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Authors: Josi S. Kilpack

Tags: #Cozy Mystery

Banana Split (21 page)

BOOK: Banana Split
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“Would you be surprised, then, if the reports were to come back showing she hadn’t used drugs that night?”

 

“Is that what the police concluded?” Pastor Darryl said, leaning forward slightly and sounding genuinely surprised.

 

“No, the reports will take several weeks. I’m just curious.”

 

“Well,” he said, taking a thoughtful breath. After a moment he nodded and leaned back again. “It would be surprising to me to learn that drugs weren’t a factor. She was really struggling.” He paused. “Sometimes the trials we face are of our own making, poor choices that bounce back on us—Noelani had many of those in her life. Other times our trials come out of the blue and are something we truly don’t deserve to experience. And yet, we have to cope with both types of
he mau pilikia, hihia
. Are you a woman of faith?”

 

“I am,” Sadie said, though it had felt thin of late.

 

“Then you know there is only One who can heal us, only one Great Physician who can succor our souls, regardless of which type of trial we face.”

 

Sadie nodded, but had to look away. His faith was hard to look at, like staring at the sun. And Sadie wasn’t sure she was ready to discuss her feelings on the subject of faith and God’s healing. She brought the subject back around to her purpose. “You don’t have any idea who Noelani could have been with that night?”

 

He shook his head. “Creating a new social group is key for recovery, and it’s one of the things our fellowship gave to her. Those were the only associates of hers that I knew.”

 

“How did she find your congregation?” Sadie asked. “I understand she was a fairly recent resident of Kaua’i.”

 

“Our fellowship supports an outreach program in Lihue, and Bets and I conduct weekly meetings of faith with music and scripture.”

 

“Outreach?” Sadie said. “Is that like rehab?”

 

“It’s a place of transition from rehabilitation to independence. Noelani moved there after finishing her inpatient program in Waimea. Bets and I met her when she began coming to the meetings we hold at the outreach. She was quiet at first; it takes time for an addict to trust anyone, let alone a God they can’t see. When she was ready to leave the outreach program, we helped her find a new life.” His expression grew sad, and he looked at the ground for a moment, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. “How grateful I am to know of a plan that extends beyond this one. I firmly believe that we were able to help prepare her for whatever she may be experiencing now. That she knew God before she met Him is a remarkable gift. I don’t judge her for what may have happened that cut her earthly existence short,” he said, sounding sincere. “She’ll be missed either way, and we’ll always be grateful to have known her.”

 

“Hey, there, sweetie.”

 

They both looked up as Bets perched on the arm of Pastor Darryl’s cream-colored vinyl lawn chair and draped an arm over his shoulders before leaning in for a kiss. She was lovely up close, but Sadie could see the lines around her eyes and the texture of her skin that gave away her age—mid-forties, probably about the same as the good pastor. When Bets lifted her head from kissing her husband, she smiled at Sadie.

 

“Aloha,” she said, nodding slightly. “I’m Bets Earlhart.”

 

“Sadie Hoffmiller.” She reached out to shake Bets’s long tapered fingers. No acrylic nails, no manicure, just beautifully natural.

 

Bets barely pressed Sadie’s fingers before withdrawing her hand.

 

“We’ve been talking about Noelani,” Pastor Darryl said.

 

Something flashed behind Bets’s eyes, so quick and so subtle that a less keen observer wouldn’t have noticed it. But despite being out of practice, Sadie
was
a keen observer and she
did
notice. Bets’s smile faded appropriately in proportion to the sad topic, but she also stiffened a little bit. Defensive, maybe? Nervous?

 

“I understand you and your husband helped her a great deal,” Sadie said. “Were the two of you friends?”

 

“Absolutely,” Bets said, her face perfectly polite. “Sisters really, in Christ.”

 

Sadie had a hard time believing her.

 

Green Bean Bow Tie Salad

 

3 Roma tomatoes, diced (the riper the better)

 

11/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

 

11/2 tablespoons olive oil

 

2 teaspoons dried basil

 

1 teaspoon sea salt

 

3 cups dry bow tie pasta

 

2 cups fresh green beans, ends removed and broken into 1-inch pieces

 

Combine diced tomatoes, vinegar, olive oil, basil, and sea salt in a bowl. Set aside. In a large pan, heat 1 quart of salted water to boiling. Add pasta, stirring to separate as it cooks. Boil pasta for 5 minutes. Add green beans and boil 6 more minutes, or until pasta is tender. Drain pasta and beans in a colander and return to cooking pot. Add tomato-vinegar mixture while pasta and beans are still hot. Stir together. Adjust seasoning as needed. Transfer salad to serving bowl. Serve warm or at room temperature. Chill leftovers.

 

Note: To spice it up, add 1/2 cup diced red onion and/or black olives to the tomato-vinegar mixture. Also, 1/2 cup crisp bacon, diced, makes the salad even more fabulous.

 

Chapter 23

 

 

It must have been very difficult when you learned of her death,” Sadie said, watching Bets closely.

 

“It was awful,” Bets said, her voice low. She fiddled with the collar of her husband’s shirt, smoothing it down and not meeting Sadie’s eyes. “But I find peace in knowing that she was saved through grace.”

 

“Yes, that is a powerful balm,” Sadie said.

 

“To make the wounded whole,” Pastor Darryl added. “‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.’”

 

“P.D.,” someone called out, causing all three of them to turn toward the volleyball game. “Jana had to go home, and we’re short a member. Come help us out, brah. We’re three points from winning this thing!”

 

Immediate protests rose from the opposing team, but Pastor Darryl—or P.D.—was all smiles as he unwound himself from his wife and stood, raising his hands above his head as though already claiming victory. “‘And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’”

 

He stopped by Sadie’s chair and placed his hand on her arm again. He was a very touchy-feely man. “Will you stay so we can visit some more after I show these kids who’s the
kahuna
?”

 

“Sure,” Sadie said with a smile. Even though he made her a little uncomfortable, he was really quite charming. He gave her a thumbs-up and headed into the fray. Sadie watched Bets watch her husband for a few seconds until she turned back to Sadie, not looking as comfortable without her husband there.

 

“Well, I better get to work on serving the dessert.”

 

Sadie instantly got to her feet. “Can I help? I’ve been known to be rather handy in the kitchen.”

 

“Oh, uh, sure,” Bets said in a tone that clearly said she’d rather do it herself. Sadie took it at face value. “If you’ll just follow me.”

 

Sadie followed her through the back door of the church, which opened into a small foyer with two chairs on one side and a phone on the wall between them. At the end of the foyer was a hallway that stretched in both directions. Bets turned left, and Sadie followed her through the first door on the left and into a utilitarian kitchen with gold-sparkle-embedded Formica countertops and a worn linoleum floor. It smelled like chocolate, and Sadie felt her mouth begin to water.

 

On the wall across from the door was a scripture written in elegant lettering: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” It wasn’t the King James translation, but Sadie recognized it as one of the beatitudes given by Jesus during the Sermon on the Mount. The design of the lettering, full of wispy curls and elegant flourishes, only amplified the beautiful meaning of the words. The border done with scrollwork and flowers further enhanced the good news of the scriptural passage.

 

“This is lovely,” Sadie said, approaching the words that took up most of the wall. She’d assumed it was the vinyl lettering so popular back in Colorado, but when she got close, she realized it was paint. “Someone hand painted this?”

 

Bets didn’t answer, and Sadie looked at her in time to catch the humble smile.

 

“You did this?”

 

Bets shrugged.

 

“You’re a woman of many talents,” Sadie said, moving toward the stainless steel island in the center of the room. “I already sampled your cooking, and you’re an artist as well.” She waved toward the wall. “It’s extraordinary.”

 

“Thank you,” Bets said, inclining her head. She retrieved an ice cream scoop from a drawer, and though Sadie wasn’t done admiring the mural, she could tell Bets was uncomfortable with the attention so she let it go.

 

Bets opened the fridge and pulled out a jar of maraschino cherries and a three-pack of canned whipping cream. She set everything on the counter and lifted the lid of a slow cooker, increasing the smell of chocolate that Sadie had noted upon entering the room.

 

“What’s for dessert?” Sadie asked.

 

“Banana splits. It’s a congregational favorite.”

 

“You made the hot fudge from scratch?”

 

Bets shrugged as though it was no big deal. “The slow cooker keeps it warm. There’s caramel and pineapple topping too.” She waved toward two metal bowls on the counter. “I got them out of the fridge earlier so they wouldn’t be cold.”

 

“Sounds delicious,” Sadie said. “What can I help with?”

 

“I just need to get everything ready to go before we take it outside,” Bets said, unplugging the hot fudge. “Could you stir the caramel and pineapple toppings?” She pulled open a drawer and handed Sadie two spoons.

 

“Sure,” Sadie said, glad Bets was letting her do something. “So how long have you and Pastor Darryl been married?”

 

“Just over sixteen years,” Bets said, opening a cupboard beside the stove and removing a serving tray. She put the cherries and the whipping cream on the tray, then moved around the kitchen, gathering plastic spoons, bowls, and napkins from various cupboards and drawers.

 

Sadie removed the plastic wrap from the caramel—also homemade, she guessed—and began to stir it smooth. “Was he already the pastor when you two met?”

 

“He was a youth pastor,” Bets said, pulling open the freezer where two gallons of vanilla ice cream lay waiting. “I’d moved to Kalaheo and met up with him through a fellowship meeting here. When Pastor Hani moved back to the Big Island, Darryl was asked to serve in his place.” She shrugged. “We got married right here about six months after he took over the congregation, and we’ve been serving together ever since.”

 

“That’s wonderful,” Sadie said, glad that Bets seemed to be softening up a little. “I love hearing people’s stories. God is a clever matchmaker.”

 

“Yes, He certainly is,” Bets said, giving Sadie another dazzling smile. She had the longest eyelashes Sadie had ever seen, and if not for the fact that Sadie couldn’t identify any makeup on the woman, she’d have been sure they were fake. But nothing about Bets seemed phony in any way. She had natural fingernails, wore no jewelry except a simple wedding band, and yet there was an unease with herself that Sadie couldn’t figure out.

 

“Do you have children?” Sadie asked by way of keeping the conversation going. She deemed the caramel smooth as silk and moved on to the pineapple.

 

An instant veil descended over Bets’s face, and Sadie mentally kicked herself. Of all people, Sadie knew the cutting edge of that question, having been asked it a thousand times herself and having felt the sting over and over again. She hurried to undo the damage before Bets had to come up with a polite reply. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s none of my business.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Bets said, but it was forced, and she was suddenly busy organizing all the toppings onto the tray. She grabbed a bowl of chopped nuts from the fridge. “We haven’t been blessed with children of our own, but caring for so many of God’s children in ways that He cannot eases the longing.”

BOOK: Banana Split
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