Chapter 3: Not Right Now

When she came through the entrance to Zippy’s, the expression on her face told me that something had changed. Why so fast? I tell you, it was the look of ‘I realized I don’t have time for this.’ Great.

Sliding into the booth opposite me, Kathy said, “I’m sorry, David, but –”

“Hey, Kathy, no problem. If you have to go, I –”

It was her turn to cut me off. “David, I got a call from a Sergeant Kalākaua. He wants to get ahold of you. I told him I was meeting you so I’d relay the message.”

Every muscle in my body relaxed. I couldn’t believe how just a half-hour conversation with an old high-school classmate could do this to me. It wasn’t rejection, thank, God, it was work.

“Ah, that’s a big relief,” I said. Then I caught myself. I didn’t want her to see that I might be overanxious about anything. “I, uh, was hoping he’d call.”

Kathy said nothing, anticipating more information. “Kono, ah, was checking over some witness statements for me. No big deal. It can wait. What about that coffee and a burger?”

She reached across and touched my arm. “David, whatever you were expecting, it sounded serious. He said you needed to get back to him. Really urgent sounding.”

This job. I tell you. Sometimes I’d just like to toss my badge in the Ala Wai. “Okay, let me check in with him. I’ll be right back.”

I headed out into the parking lot. The department okayed the use of personal cars many moons ago, but they’d never budgeted for radios. Geez. The number of times I’d have to run around searching high and low for a phone booth to call in. Well, all that frustration was behind me. Right now, this was a new kind of frustration.

“Kono, this is David. Are you there? Over.”

Kalākaua came back immediately. “David, where are you right now?”

“I’m, uh –” I didn’t want to tell him I was at Zippy’s. I was four blocks from the station. It would be easy for Kono to say, ‘Skip on back’.

“I’m, ah, eating dinner,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. I could be at a restaurant on the North Shore. “Over.”

“Can you meet at the Blue Light? We’ve got an urgent 5-0 assignment from the Governor.”

My heart sank for a different reason. At moments like this, that come around about as often as a blue moon, I do hate my job.

“Urgent? Can’t it wait a couple of hours? Over.”

“A couple hours? Brah, you two at one 12-course Chinese dinner, or what? Can you meet us? It’s real urgent, David, over.”

That’s right. He knew Kathy had come to deliver the message. Better not make it sound like what we were doing was something serious. Which it isn’t, right? It’s just two old friends having coffee. That’s all.

It’s true, too, the Governor only calls for a 5-0 level assignment when the situation’s serious.

“When’s the meet? Over.”

“We’ll be there in half an hour. See you then. Out.”

Seriously, maybe it would be better not to have radios. I could have said that I wasn’t able to find a phone to call in. Which, of course, I’d never say.

I went back in. Kathy, probably knowing this coffee meeting wasn’t going to happen tonight, hadn’t ordered anything.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but this appears to be very urgent after all. I’m so sorry.”

Kathy smiled that great smile of hers.

“Hey, no problem,” she said. “Now that we know we’re around, we can get together anytime. We have all the time in the world, right?”

Well, who knows? I’ve seen plenty in my time that says we don’t. Anyway, that positive attitude of hers cheered me up considerably. It made the drive downtown to the Blue Light almost bearable.