House of the Hanging Jade (28 page)

“Marcus, you have to understand something—” Liko began.

“I understand everything! Kailani stole my dad and you stole my mom and now the whole family is ruined because of you two!”

“Marcus, there's more to it than that,” I said, searching for something to say that would help explain the very grown-up problems that he was facing.

He shook his head vehemently. “No, there isn't. My parents are getting divorced because of you two.”

“Marcus, they were getting divorced no matter what,” Liko said in a quiet voice.

“Oh yeah? I'll just bet. What I don't understand is how either of them could fall for either of you. Kailani, you're just a
cook
.” He said it like the word was poison. “And you're not even smart enough to get a job as a teacher,” he hissed at Liko.

“You're misunderstanding some things,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice.

“It's pretty simple to me.”

“Can we just get your mom and dad and have them explain things to you?”

“I'll kill you both if you call for anyone,” Marcus warned, jerking the gun toward us.

I swallowed hard. There seemed to be no way out of this. We had to talk Marcus into dropping the gun.

“Where did you get the gun, Marcus?”

“From James's house.”

“Killing us won't solve any problems. Your parents will still get divorced.”

“Maybe not.”

“Yes, they will. Their marriage wasn't happy for a long time, long before either Liko or I came to this house.” Marcus didn't respond.

“Marcus? I think you know that. You know they moved from California to try to be happy again, but it just didn't work out. Someday you'll see that this is the right step for them. For both of them to be happy again.”

He blinked. Were those tears?

“I
liked
you guys!” Marcus said through gritted teeth.

“Marcus, I'm sorry,” Liko said quietly. “I didn't mean to hurt you or your sister.”

“What about Dad?”

“I didn't want to hurt him, either.”

“But you did it anyway.”

Liko was silent. What could he say to that?

“And you,” Marcus said, facing me and gesturing toward me with the gun in his hand. “You pretended everything was normal. That you were just the chef. When all the time you and my dad were . . . were . . .”

“No, Marcus. That's not true. Your dad and I wanted to wait until the divorce was final to get to know each other better. We discussed it together. We agreed it wasn't right to put you and Justine through anything else just now.”

“Yeah, right,” he sneered.

“Marcus, I'm telling you the truth. Please believe me. Your dad loves you and Justine and doesn't want to hurt you.”

“But I heard you talking in his office those times!” So his had been the footsteps I'd heard.

“But we only talked. We didn't do anything.” He studied me silently, and for just a moment I thought I saw a flicker of belief in his eyes.

Liko took a tiny step forward. “Marcus, will you give me the gun?”

To my surprise, Marcus slid down the wall and sat on the floor, his hands covering his face. He was crying. He let the gun fall beside him. Liko moved quickly to kick the gun out of the way; it skittered across the kitchen floor just as Lars appeared in the doorway, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“What's going on in here? Why is there a gun in the house? Whose is it?” he demanded.

In two steps I was at Marcus's side, kneeling next to him on the floor. I held him as he cried, speaking unintelligibly through a torrent of tears. I glanced at Lars quickly and saw the alarm in his eyes.

“Marcus? What's the matter? Are you hurt?” he asked, quickly joining his son on the floor.

Marcus shook his head, rocking forward and backward, his body trembling with sobs. Liko stood nearby, motionless.

“Marcus, tell me what's wrong. Nothing can be this bad,” Lars said.

“Yes it can, Dad,” he cried. He tried speaking again, but he started to choke. Lars patted his back gently while he waited for Marcus to gain some composure.

We sat there on the floor for a long time, the three of us. Liko left the room briefly to retrieve the gun from the floor in the hallway. Gradually, Marcus's breathing steadied and his tears slowed.

“Where's Justine?” he finally asked.

Lars looked at me. I shrugged. “I don't know,” he said. “Probably in her room.”

“I don't want her to hear,” Marcus whispered.

“Hear what?” asked Lars, leaning in close.

Marcus mumbled something. “I can't hear you, Marcus,” Lars said.

Marcus repeated himself. I thought I caught one or two words and my breath stuck in my throat. Lars stared at his son and then shot me a worried glance.

“Marcus, you need to take a few deep breaths. I don't think you know what you're saying.”

Marcus shook his head violently. “Dad, listen. I know what I'm saying.”

“But . . . but how is that possible?” Lars's voice was hollow.

“I didn't mean to kill him, Dad—I swear,” Marcus gulped, the tears coursing again. Liko looked at me in alarm. I shook my head.

“How did it happen?” Lars asked.

“He was standing by the pool and I was so mad at him because I knew what he and Mom were doing and I just sneaked up behind him and hit him with a shovel that one of the gardeners left by the pool.” Marcus sobbed. “I just wanted to hurt him. I didn't mean to kill him!” His voice had reached a keening pitch.

A strangled gasp came from behind us. Marcus looked up and Lars and I whirled around.

Barbie stood in the doorway, staring at Marcus in horror. “You killed him?” she asked quietly.

Marcus nodded in silence, the tears leaving wet pathways on his downy cheeks. He looked so young, so vulnerable.

“How could you?” her voice rose.

“I didn't mean to,” he answered, his voice dull.

“Lars, what are we going to do?” she asked shrilly.

“Nothing at the moment,” he answered. “Marcus needs sleep. We need time to think.”

Barbie was breathing heavily. I thought she was going to faint, so I scrambled up and hurried over to her, but she waved me away. “I'm okay,” she insisted. “Just in shock.” She rested her hands on her stomach and looked around wildly. “What are we going to do?” she repeated.

“Barbie, I think you should let me handle this for now,” Lars cautioned. “Please go upstairs and I'll be up to talk to you in a little while.” He turned to Marcus as Barbie left.

“You need to sleep.”

“I can't sleep.”

“Can you at least try? Please?”

Marcus shook his head. “I can't, Dad. I don't think I'll ever sleep again.”

“You will. Kailani, would you please go upstairs and ask Barbie for something to help Marcus sleep?”

I hurried upstairs, returning a few minutes later with two tablets that Barbie had said would help Marcus sleep deeply all night long. I was thankful to be in a hurry so I didn't have to discuss this development with her.

Back in the kitchen, I poured a glass of water for Marcus and handed Lars the glass and the pills. We watched as Marcus took the medicine, then Lars helped him to his feet. “I'm staying with you until you're sound asleep,” he said. The two of them walked slowly down the length of the lanai toward Marcus's room.

I finally turned to Liko. “I can't believe it,” he said.

I could only shake my head. I knew I wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.

A
t dawn, I was still sitting on the lanai, staring out over the waves of the Pacific. Lars had never come out of Marcus's room. I was sure he hadn't slept, either. Justine wandered out in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes. “Where's Marcus?” She obviously had no idea what had happened the previous night.

“Still asleep, I guess.”

“Can I have breakfast?”

Her words lifted me out of my bleak thoughts. “Of course.” I fixed a bowl of granola with honey and yogurt, crowned with lots of fresh berries.

“I wonder why Marcus isn't up yet,” she mused. “Maybe he's sick.”

I shrugged noncommittally. When she was done with her breakfast she hurried to get ready for school, then I watched her trot down the long driveway toward the bus stop. What a relief that we didn't have to worry about Geoffrey anymore.

But now there was a new worry. Lars and Marcus shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later. Marcus looked at me out of dark, hooded eyes. Lars seemed to have aged overnight. They helped themselves to bowls of cereal while I busied myself making coffee and washing more berries.

Barbie appeared in the kitchen doorway as father and son stood against the kitchen counters, eating their breakfast. She appeared to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for her.

“Lars, you have to do something,” she said finally.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don't know.”

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Marcus sounded so normal, so ordinary. He left the room and returned several minutes later. “I'm going to get dressed.”

“Go with him,” Barbie urged Lars.

“He can get dressed by himself.”

“But what if he runs away?”

Lars answered her with a long shake of his head. He set his coffee cup in the sink and informed us that he too was going to get dressed.

Barbie and I weren't alone in the kitchen for long. Liko came in shortly, poured himself a cup of coffee, and turned to us. “Now what?” he asked.

“I'm going to talk to Lars,” Barbie announced. “He's got to do something. He can't let Marcus go to jail.” She turned and left the room without a backward glance. Liko and I stood in silence.

There was a knock at the front door. Detective Alana stood there.

“May I come in?”

Unsure of why he was there, I moved aside and motioned him indoors. He cleared his throat. “I received a call from Marcus,” he began.

But he didn't have to finish.

“Here I am,” said a voice behind me. I spun around and there stood Marcus, facing the officer, his eyes like stone.

Lars came clattering up the stairs from the family room. “What's going on here?” he demanded.

“I called the police, Dad. I know what you're thinking. You're going to take the blame for me and Mom wants you to. But you can't. Someone has to take care of Justine.”

Barbie was racing downstairs as Marcus finished speaking.

“Don't say another word until I call our lawyer,” she commanded.

“Don't, Mom. I already told the detective that I killed Dr. Doug. I told him it was a mistake. I called him when I said I was going to the bathroom.”

“Wait a minute. Let's all calm down,” Lars said. “Detective, he's just a boy. He doesn't know what he's talking about.”

“Yes, I do.”

Detective Alana held up his hand. “Let's go talk about this at the station.” He opened the door and took Marcus gently by the arm, helping him into the backseat of the police car that was in the driveway. Barbie and Lars followed them in Barbie's car.

Liko and I were left alone again in the house. Neither of us felt much like talking, so we went our separate ways, me to my bedroom and Liko to the guesthouse. It was hours before Lars and Barbie returned. Marcus was not with them. Barbie was crying.

“He confessed,” Lars told me. “He's being transferred to a juvenile facility in Kona.”

“What's going to happen?” I asked.

He sighed. “We don't know. He'll be charged with Doug's death, but there are a couple things in his favor. For one, he's a kid. For another, the fact that Doug was sleeping with Barbie will probably be considered a mitigating circumstance,” he said, with a dark glance at her. “It doesn't justify killing Doug, of course, but it goes a long way toward explaining why Marcus felt like he couldn't take it anymore.”

“What about Dr. Rutledge?” I asked.

“I asked Marcus about him last night. He swears he had nothing to do with it and I believe him. I think Dr. Rutledge's death was really an accident.” Barbie nodded her agreement. “The lawyer met us at the station and the police were prevented from asking Marcus about Dr. Rutledge. Unfortunately, Marcus had already confessed to Doug's killing when he talked to the police on the phone.”

There was nothing left to say. Lars and Barbie would have to sit down with Justine after school and tell her what had happened.

When Justine found out, she was inconsolable. Lars took her to visit Marcus the following day because she begged to see him, but she wasn't any better when they returned to the house.

So began a long, emotional period of waiting to find out what Marcus's fate would be. We visited him often, usually with gifts of homemade food. He derived a small measure of happiness from our visits, but leaving the facility and driving home without him was always heart-wrenching, especially for Justine. As the days dragged by, she became more and more despondent. Her only pleasure lay in getting out of the house: going to school, where she could be with her friends, away from the mournful atmosphere at home.

During that time, Barbie's belly continued to swell and Liko, not having to help Justine much with schoolwork, returned to Punalu'u to look for another job. He left without telling Lars about his relationship with Barbie, though I asked him several times to consider it. I suspect he was too embarrassed, too afraid of Lars's reaction, to confess to what he had done.

It wasn't as much fun cooking without Marcus in the house, even when I was making goodies to take to him, and the palpable tension over his fate pervaded every meal, every conversation. Lars and I talked at length and decided to continue waiting for our relationship to move forward while Marcus's future was in limbo.

But as sad as it was to know Marcus was behind the murder of Dr. Doug, it gave me a sense of relief knowing the search for the doctor's killer was over. There would be no more worrying about intruders, no more wondering whether the perpetrator would ever be caught. And perhaps most importantly, no more anxiety about Lars being tried for murder.

It was the birth of Barbie's baby girl that finally brought Justine back to life. Callie was born on a sunny day when the sapphire waters of the Pacific were gentle and calm. Lars took Justine to see the baby, but declined to go into the maternity ward himself. Justine came out with a big smile. She already loved her little sister. She chattered all the way home from the hospital, saying she couldn't wait for Marcus to meet the baby. It was the first time she had mentioned her brother's name without a hint of despair. “Callie's got such dark hair and dark skin!” she exclaimed as we drove through Hawi. “Not like me or Marcus.”

I glanced over at Lars, who was driving. His fists clenched the steering wheel a little tighter. When we got home, Justine went to call her best friend to tell her about the new baby.

Lars went straight to his office, but later found me in the kitchen. “How long have you known?” he asked.

I knew exactly what he meant. “A while.”

“Why didn't you tell me Liko was the baby's father?”

“I just couldn't do that to you. I'm so sorry.”

“I don't blame you,” he said with a sigh. “You were in a very tough spot.”

“I just kept hoping Liko wasn't the father, even though Barbie said she was sure. And I kept hoping Liko would tell you himself. I asked him to, but in the end I think he was too afraid to face you.”

He nodded slightly. “I understand. It wasn't your job to tell me. Liko should have been man enough to tell me. Or Barbie should have said something.”

He gathered me in his arms and held me for a long time. Justine came into the kitchen softly and put her arms around both of us. “Everything's going to be okay,” she told us.