The Kennedy Half-Dollar

by Mahree Moyle

Overview

After high school graduation, Seely is forced to move out on her own. She reluctantly decides to move to Hawaii and stay with her sister until she can find a place of her own. She is offered a job with a well-known nightclub in Waikiki serving cocktails. There, she is introduced to the dark side of life.

One evening on her shift, she hears ominous words directed at Mark, the assistant manager. When she turns to see who said these words–no one is there. Then the next morning tragedy strikes. Mark is found in a cane field shot to death. Seely suspects the Hawaiian Mafia is involved, but has no solid proof.

When the Mafia starts coming after her, believing Seely knows of the murder, she finds herself plunged into a nightmare. Why are they targeting her? Could she have seen or heard something that she was unaware of? Seely knows her life is in grave danger and decides to leave Hawaii, hoping to escape their clutches–except they are informed of her moves. After many years of trying to figure out her connection with Mark’s murder, Seely faces the truth.

From the glistening sands of Hawaii to the white mountains of Alaska, The Kennedy Half-Dollar delivers an eclectic and unconventional true crime memoir of nonstop action and suspense–with background music to set the mood.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781475989809
Publisher:	iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date:	05/21/2013
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	282
File size:	881 KB

Read an Excerpt

The Kennedy Half-Dollar

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By Mahree Moyle

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2013 Mahree Moyle
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-8978-6

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CHAPTER 1

That Phrase Was Coined

"Everyone, please be seated and fasten your seat belts. We will be starting down the runway in approximately eight minutes. Extinguish all cigarettes, and bring your seats to their upright position. TWA flight 852 will be arriving at the Aloha Airport in Honolulu at approximately 7:46 p.m. The weather is clear, and we expect a headwind of twelve miles per hour. Our cruising speed will be approximately 527 miles per hour, and our cruising altitude around forty-thousand feet. For you 007 fans, Live and Let Die is our scheduled feature this evening; earphones will be handed out when we reach our cruising altitude. Enjoy your flight, and thank you for flying TWA."

Seely was in the second-to-the last row of a new Boeing 747. Her mind was amiss as she watched the last passengers board and prepare for the flight. She could see from a distance a man in a panic trying to get by the flight attendant. With urgency, he squeezed by the late boarders who were trying to get their carry-ons in the overhead compartments. He was a short, round man with rosy cheeks and curly hair on the sides of his balding head. Desperation consumed his glare as he surveyed each row. As he got closer, Seely heard him call her name.

[??] "Lucky Ladybug," [??] sung by Billy and Lillie

Why is he calling my name? Maybe Mom and Dad want me to stay. Maybe they changed their minds. I need to get off the plane.

Seely quickly waved her hand and called to him. As he made his way toward her, she could feel the tension peaking within. They want me to stay.

Her face smoldered with anxiety, and her heart was beating erratically. Suddenly a loud thump echoed in her ears, so loud and so final that she gasped for a breath. Her heart raced even faster as she heard the doors being secured. She could hear the flight attendant tell the round man to return to his seat and felt a desperate urge to yell, "Wait!"—but, like so many dreams, the words could not escape.

"Seely, your father asked me to give this to you," he said hurriedly as he reached her. He held a silver Kennedy half-dollar in his hand and smiled as he presented it to her.

You've got to be kidding me! A half-dollar? "Stop the plane! I want to give my daughter a half-dollar!"

She felt the disappointment rush through her and quickly jumped up to thank him before the negative thoughts took over. Damn, I can't let him think I'm disappointed. Look what he went through to get it to me. He could have put it in his pocket, but he didn't. Should have. He didn't. He acts like it's rare or something. I can't let him think that I'm an ungrateful little brat. I am. Shouldn't be.

Seely put her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much! That was very kind of you to find me."

He smiled with pleasure and passed on the words that came with this small token of love. "Your parents said to tell you that they love you and that hopefully this half-dollar will keep you safe and bring you good luck."

"Thank you! Really." Seely waved as he rushed to his seat.

She held the half-dollar in her hand as she stared out the window, imagining California fading into the horizon. The powerful influence of her tears fought to come out while the weakness of her heart struggled to hold them back.

Maybe they just can't say they love me in person. I never had a good-luck charm, so this will be my first. They could have run out of the airport yelling, "Party!" but they didn't. Maybe they did. They didn't. That means something. I will keep it with me always. Dad was probably serious when he used to tell me, "If you didn't have bad luck, Seel, you would have no luck at all." Was he being amusing, or did he see my life as pure calamity?

She dug through her purse for her wallet and slid the coin in the compartment behind her license. I just have strange luck, that's all. I miss my room.

* * *

It had only been a week since her high school graduation. Seely had just turned seventeen and was so excited to be out of school. She looked proud as she walked up to receive her diploma. Her long blonde hair was streaked from months in the sun and held by a comb that bulged from its thickness. She had worn glasses since the age of five, and without them, she was nearly blind. She had endured countless jokes—"Hey, Coke bottle bottoms, let me borrow your glasses to start a fire"—and her blue eyes expressed an extra sparkle of joy through the magnification of her thick lenses at their finale. Her teeth were crooked, but that never stopped her from smiling and exposing the dimples that captured her cheeks from within as if they were anchored. Optimism was one of her best qualities, and what added to that optimistic view of life was her ability to make light of any situation with a joke of its irony or a song that fit the moment. Music carried her emotions. Seely's world was perfectly imperfect, and she liked it that way. Some may have thought of her as just plain borderline flibbertigibbet. Although her dedication to school had only been halfhearted, she walked away content, holding her diploma close to her heart.

Her parents left right after the ceremony. They told Seely to head home also, even though she had made plans to meet up with her friends at the beach to celebrate. As she ran through the front door, there in the middle of the living room was a beautiful set of plum Tourister luggage: one large suitcase, one medium suitcase, and one cosmetic case, a delicate pink silk lining in each. Plum was her favorite color, but luggage suggested movement. She remembered they had bought her sister Monet a small electric organ for Christmas one year, and her sister laughed and asked what she was supposed to do with it. They looked hurt, and Seely didn't want to hurt their feelings, even though she wondered the same thing. She remarked how pretty they were and opened each one to examine the inside, trying to look impressed by the typical simplicity used to design the interior of luggage.

"So where will you be going, Seel?" her father asked. He often called her Seel for short, as did many of her friends. Both her parents were sitting at the kitchen table watching her look through the emptiness of the new luggage.

Seely was stunned and didn't have an answer. She didn't know she was going anywhere. The room went into a slow spin of disorientation and awkwardness, iced with panic that she possessed no plan. She scrambled for any fragment of an answer and mumbled in a shaky voice the first place that came to mind. "Hawaii?" Her sister Rena lived in Hawaii.

"Well, that sounds like a great place to go," her father said in agreement. "Do you have any offers on your car?"

Seriously? Where was I when we had this conversation? None of this sounds even remotely familiar. Sell my car? I would never sell it.

She loved her car and knew she would have remembered discussing selling it. She tried hard to compose herself, but they had to have seen her confusion.

[??]"Shop Around," [??] made famous by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles

Seely had a 1966 silver Chevy Impala, just inches from the ground in the back, with Astro Supreme wheels and Bellflower pipes. "Shop Around," the title of one of Seely's favorite songs by Smokey Robinson, was written on the backside windows. The backseat had been removed and replaced with thick padding and carpeted with shag all the way to the front. She had spent many nights with her friends cruising the boulevards. Under each overpass, the gear was slipped into neutral, and the engine was revved to maximum capacity, displaying a tremulous gamut, which inevitably gave Seely goose bumps. The music would be blaring all her Motown favorites: Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, Aretha ...

During the day, Seely and her friends journeyed down Pacific Coast Highway to their favorite beach. The windows were down, and their hair blew in the hot, salty air. Her car was littered with beach towels, suntan lotion, and sandals for a day of bodysurfing and perfecting their dark cocoa-butter tans. The genre was rock, and the speakers blasted Tull, Zeppelin, Cocker, Santana, and Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. They enjoyed the attention from the young men passing and would make a few extra trips down PCH before parking.

* * *

Is this really happening?

Her mind was occupied with countless thoughts and questions. She tried to secure her feet on the floor while the room continued to sway. Desperately, she searched for the answers she didn't have—the answers she didn't know she should have.

Do they really think I made plans? They have a way of doing that. They're tricky that way. They know I don't have plans. But should I have known I had to leave? My sisters left after they graduated. Did they get suitcases? Did they know they had to leave? I should have paid more attention. They could have warned me. I don't want to go. Should I ask if I can stay? When do I have to leave? Should I know that too? They will make me think I should know. They probably were going to pack for me but didn't have time. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. That's what they want to say. Don't call us; we'll call you. Yep, I know what they're thinking.

She felt as if a tornado had touched down and tossed her life around like a helpless piece of straw. Her mind was in disarray, shifting from one thought to another, not fully grasping any of them.

Get a grip. Think of something good in this. There has to be something. Think. The suitcases! The suitcases are my favorite color. They could have bought an ugly brown or red set, but they found them in my favorite color. They spent time looking for just the right luggage. That means something. I have to stop acting like a baby and face the fact that it's time to go. That's all—it's time to go. That's how it is. I think? You graduate and move out—way out, in my case. Do you have to leave the state when you move out? My sisters did. Why do you have to leave the state? Isn't there some book on graduation and moving out? Why don't I know these things? It's too late to read a book now. My suitcases are in the middle of the living room. "Here's your hat and coat. What's your hurry?" I've heard them say that many times, jokingly. Maybe they weren't joking. They were. Maybe they weren't. Oh, who cares? Move on.

With her uncanny ability to put herself into the now of life and follow the flow of its mysterious beckoning, she forced herself to compose her emotions. She timidly braced the dawn of a new adventure within her view. Life oddly appeared to her as a book that was hard to put down. She was amused by the ups and downs of a day alone. What will happen next? she would wonder. She was fascinated by the emotions felt in each incident, however large or small. The surprise of tomorrow carried her into each new day with a curiosity of its ending. The wildest of imaginations could never determine each twist and turn. All she could predict was that it would be unpredictable. She knew the bad times would end just as the good times had their end. The key was to move on to the next page of life, bringing the happy moments and leaving the wounded behind. She noticed from a young age that within the bad times, somewhere in the future they held a meaning. What had been hidden by grief or despair eventually emerged with its purpose to make peace with a long-forgotten chapter once discarded for its undesirable contents.

The idea of selling her car made her stomach curdle. "How much should sell it for?" She had paid $700 two years earlier and put a lot of money into it. Everyone loved it, especially her.

Her father thought for a moment and then replied, "Ask $1,200 and then go down. That sounds fair." Her mother hadn't said anything.

I think Mom is happy I'm going. Maybe she's happy to have only Chet at home.

There were four girls in Seely's family. Char was the oldest, then Rena, Monet, and Seely. Chet was the youngest and the only boy, which made him very special.

Will they buy Chet suitcases when he graduates? Maybe I should warn him so he isn't as shocked as I am.

"How much money will you have to take with you?" her father asked, expressing some concern.

Enough to hang out at the beach today. Then we were all going to the mall to find something to wear to the Tull concert next week. Damn it. She hadn't paid much attention to money and quickly threw a few numbers together. "I have almost $400 in the bank." I think. "The money from my car." That makes me want to hurl. "My last check from work." Good thinking.

Her father handed her an envelope. Inside was a check for $478.32 that had been set aside for her graduation day.

And $478.32 for eleven years of pure hell. They didn't have to give me anything for going to school. I'm being ungrateful. I don't care. Yeah, I do care. Right now I don't.

"You should have enough money to keep you going until you find a job, Seel. You should have no problem finding work. You're a hard worker," he remarked proudly.

By the time Seely and her parents had finished with all the details, she had a week to get things together.

[??]"Drift Away," [??] made famous by Dobie Gray

The beach had lost the glitter it had earlier, and she went to her room and fell back on her fur bedspread—plum, of course. It was a birthday present, and she felt saddened that it would not be making the trip with her. Who would have a fur bedspread in Hawaii? I'm going to miss my room.

She moved her arms back and forth on the soft fur and glanced in different directions around the room, noticing only the items that would have to stay. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine never sleeping in her room again. Distance was becoming apparent as she slowly separated herself from the things in her room that gave her a feeling of security.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, her father yelled from the patio. "Seel, I found a For Sale sign in the garage.

Seriously? What took you so long to find that, Dad? My God, are you sure I shouldn't leave today? I should be happy I got a week. I'm not.

Seely filled in the sign with all the details and went out to put it in the back window of her car. She climbed into the backseat, and as she was about to tape it to the window, a car drove up behind. She grabbed the sign and jumped out, holding it behind her back, and watched as a young man approached her.

"Are you selling your car?" he asked with excitement in his voice.

The thought of someone interested in buying her car so soon threw her into a panic. As she was about to shout "No!" she noticed her father out of the corner of her eye, standing on the front step. A lump swelled in her throat as she tried to hold back the tears.

"Let him take it for a spin around the block, Seel," her father yelled.

A "spin"—like we're in the 1950s. Sure, why not? Maybe I should just give it to him. That would make you happy. What happened? They're slow at everything they do, and now I can't catch up to them. They're sneaky. I'm sitting in right field. No, that's left field. Who cares? In a cow field, facedown in manure. I'm a baby.

The handsome young man in front of her lit up at the mention of a test drive. She tossed him the keys and settled into the passenger seat, where she had never sat before.

She had seen him pass the house several times in the past and look over. Funny, all this time I thought you were looking at me. All you were after was my car. Figures. Hurry up and take your "spin." This is messed up.

The week flew by, and Seely was anxiously prepared to embark on her new life. Her emotions were mixed, but she knew she had no other choice but to leave. This was a rite of passage—although she did notice that none of her friends were going anywhere.

Guess it could be worse. Hawaii will be okay. Someday I can come back, I think. I don't have to stay away forever, do I? It doesn't matter. What happens happens. Why try to figure out the future? That's crazy.

She packed her plum suitcases, not missing one tiny space. She said her good-byes, took one last sad look at her room, and walked out the door.

CHAPTER 2

A Rare Mold

So much had taken place in one short week that Seely was mentally and physically exhausted—especially since most of what went on was not her choice. The first hour of the flight was spent trying to accept the fact she was on a plane to Hawaii. If the flight attendant hadn't stopped by her row with the cart of drinks and snacks, Seely may have remained in oblivion the entire trip.

Snap out of it. Let it go. Hawaii will be great. Everyone wants to go to Hawaii.

She reached into her purse and pulled out the flyer she was handed as she made her way to the gate at the Los Angeles International Airport. A plethora of travelers in a state of turmoil swarmed the terminal. Scattered throughout in clusters of two or three were the faithful followers of the Hare Krishna. They wore long gamboge orange or white robes, and a sikha, a small tuft of hair, sat solitary upon their shaved heads. Each carried handbells that rang as they chanted, "Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna; Krishna, Krishna, Hare, Hare; Hare Rama, Hare Rama; Rama, Rama, Hare, Hare."
(Continues...)

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Excerpted from The Kennedy Half-Dollar by Mahree Moyle. Copyright © 2013 Mahree Moyle. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc..
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