by Amy Shojai
“You got frens, do you? Talked to someone?” Boss mocked the girl’s patois. “What’d you tell them?” Boss backed away, steps slow and careful, but stared with hard eyes at Karma all the while.
The direct eye contact increased Karma’s resolve. She’d meet his challenge, and didn’t need Lia to tell her. She stalked forward, growls continuing to bubble nonstop. She signaled her intent, and waited for Boss to show deference and turn away, or face the consequences.
“You’re not worth saving. You’re a dime a dozen, I’ll find another wahine nani to satisfy my client. Don’t know what he sees in you island girls.” Boss turned and strode back through the weeds to the road. “Should’ve done you the same as Vicki.” He spat on the ground.
Karma relaxed, and glanced over her shoulder at Mele. The wind gusted the water smell, and the stub of her tail wriggled. She told herself good-dog for facing down the scary Boss. She preferred hearing Lia say the words.
“No-no-no!” Mele turned, and ran. “Īlio, run! Run fast!”
Karma whirled, on alert to see what so frightened the girl. But Boss stood too far away to be a threat. He lit one of the smoke-sticks some people liked. He blew three long puffs of white before flicking it away in the weeds.
Karma didn’t know what that meant but it scared the girl. So she dashed after Mele, and the pair raced away across the field. Karma’s thirst and unerring nose guided the girl toward the water that beckoned.
Chapter 39
September disconnected the phone call from Combs. “Mom, I’ve got to go. I’ll be late.” She hurried upstairs to collect the tracking gear from her room. Shadow raced up the stairs behind her. Once he saw her pull out tracking boots, he danced and vocalized his excitement. It had been weeks since they’d worked a trail. They both needed this.
Macy trilled and wound about her feet, nearly tripping September as she gathered work clothes. She dumped the heavy gear on the bed while Shadow jittered in front of the door, impatient to be on their way. Macy immediately hopped onto the bed and curled up on top of the pile.
She shed her shorts and pulled on heavy jeans. “Macy, move. I need that shirt.” Meowing his aggravation, the Maine Coon allowed himself to be dumped, but clung for a moment to the fabric. He wanted her to tow him across the bed, one of his favorite games. “Sorry, kitty, another time.”
September shrugged the heavy long-sleeved shirt on over her tank top. She sat on the bed to pull heavy socks up over the bottom of her jeans cuffs, and secured the fabric with tape before shoving feet into the leather tracking boots. She would spray bug repellent on top of the clothing once she got outside to add an additional protection from ticks and the diseases they carried. Both Shadow and Macy got monthly preventative medication. Long sleeves offered a shield from sunburn, but would add to the debilitating heat. At least the sun was going down.
Mom had followed her upstairs. She stood in the doorway, lips pursed with disapproval. Mom stood with arms folded tight across her chest. “Are you meeting with the contractors again? I don’t understand what takes so long.”
“Not the contractors this time. Apparently it’s an emergency.” Otherwise, Combs wouldn’t have called so soon after their disagreement.
“Can’t it wait? Your father planned to take us all out to dinner tonight. He’ll be home anytime.”
“Sorry. I’ll make it up to him—to you both.” September pulled the gimme cap onto her head, squinting out the window. She gathered her tack bag with gloves, treats, water bottle and first aid kit. Shadow’s harness and tracking line were in the car.
“Oh. A tracking job. Really?” Mom shook her head and prissed back into the spotless living room—or rather, parlor, as she called it. “Somebody loses his precious pet, and calls you to fix the problem. Heavens, September, how can you stand tromping around getting bug bit for no reason?”
“Plenty of reason, Mom. It’s part of a police case.” She gave Macy a fisted hand signal, and he sat on cue. She owed the cat some quality time. As she shut the pet gate that kept Macy confined in her bedroom, she promised herself they’d spend tomorrow playing laser tag. Shadow raced ahead of the women down the stairs. She asked him to sit at the door, using the same hand signal, and he contained his delight with effort.
“It’s that Detective called you, isn’t it? The one made you cry today. I saw you, I’m not blind.” Her voice dripped with disapproval. “He’s divorced, and a disgraced cop. You can do so much better.” She perched on the futon, and stared up at September with deep disappointment.
“He was exonerated!” With exasperation, September dropped the old argument. “My relationships are my business. Besides, this has nothing to do with Combs.”
“Don’t the police have their own dogs?” Mom waved her hands to encompass the “all this” aspect of September’s work. “At least giving behavior advice through your website avoids all the sweat and bugs.” She shuddered.
September didn’t answer. The consults had picked up since the February crises. Being famous—or notorious, as Mom called it—had benefits.
“At least tell me where you’ll be. Do you have your phone?” She stood to follow September and Shadow toward the door. “You’re still my daughter, however independent you get. I worry, you know.”
Shoulders scrunching, September braced herself. “I’m tracking a K9 in training, she’s gone AWOL. They want me to meet the investigative team out at Corazon Stables.”
Mom gasped, her blue eyes widened. “At the ranch? What happened, is Cornelia all right?” She grabbed September’s wrist to stop her from leaving.
Mom had offered no clue about the two sisters’ estrangement, but clearly feelings for family survived even if they’d not spoken in years. “Not your sister, no. It has something to do with the dog’s trainer, Lia Corazon. Her granddaughter. Guess she’s my cousin?”
“Apikalia?” Her face darkened. “No, you can’t go out there. September, I forbid it! You’ll ruin everything, and destroy that poor child. I forbid it!”
Shadow offered a low whine as September twisted her wrist free. “It’s a job. They’re counting on me to help. Give me a good reason to stay away . . .” She waited a moment, until Mom bit her lip. “Like I said, we’ll be late. C’mon, Shadow.” September hurried from the house with the dog in tow.
It took more than forty minutes to reach the entrance to the Corazon estate. Her shoulders relaxed when she didn’t see Combs anywhere around. Detective Gonzales came to her car and she rolled down the window.
“Park your car out here, we need to hike in. The family has some big gala starting soon, and you’ll get blocked any nearer the house,” he told her.
She nodded, found a spot beneath a giant live oak, and let Shadow out of the back. “Settle, Shadow. You’ll wear yourself out before we get started.” September gave him a drink of water, peering overhead at what looked like darkening clouds. She wrinkled her nose. “Smoke?”
Gonzales nodded. Small of stature but powerfully built, he had to look up to meet her eyes. “It’s that time of year.” He wiped sweat from his brow and smoothed his neat mustache before striking a brisk pace toward the house. Once they came abreast, they cut across the pasture and stable. A narrow path circled up a low hill into trees and disappeared. “Over there.” He pointed, and explained along the way what he needed.
Shadow wore no collar, a calculated decision because of his former neck injury. White fur traced the scars on his brow and neck, reminders of his bravery during the February tornado events. It had also weakened his trachea, so collar pressure could impede his breathing.
The harness signaled him to track. So they’d wait until they reached the place where the child witness had run away to don the tracking gear. She kept a leash handy, but didn’t need it. Shadow hadn’t willingly left her side since their last separation.
“Combs said Lia sent Karma after the girl. Quick thinking on her part. As long as the Rottie pup stays with her, Shadow can find them. The trail’s dry and fres
h. Easy-peasy.”
“I hoped you’d say that.” He grinned. “We need to avoid the immediate area. It’s still a crime scene, and they’ve not finished processing yet.”
“Okay. I’ll have Shadow track ahead of the origination. He should pick up the trail pretty quick.” She grinned. “Then we’re off and running.” She thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose you have anything scented with the dog? A toy or something?” She sniffed the air again. The smoke had grown thicker. They better start soon, or she’d need to call it off. She wouldn’t risk Shadow again.
“Lia left behind one of the dog’s toys. A Frisbee, I think. It’s up at the site.”
They trudged into the stand of trees, and September wiped her brow. Even though near sunset, the shade dropped the temperature by a significant amount. She offered Shadow another drink, but he refused, too excited by the anticipated track. She took a drink herself to wash away the taste of smoke making her tongue feel gritty and dry.
One of the uniform officers came forward and handed her the dog toy. Smiling her thanks, September knelt beside Shadow and offered him the toy to sniff-explore. She removed the short lead looped over his neck. “Shadow, wait.” He whined as she uncoiled the long tracking line from over her shoulder, and jittered forward out of reach. “Shadow, wait, good-dog. I know you’re anxious, but let’s get hooked up first. Wait.”
The wind shifted. Smoke clogged the breeze, making her eyes water. September jumped up to reach Shadow, but he stutter-walked another few steps, testing the air.
With a barely heard woof, Shadow whirled and raced off toward the fire, leaving September behind holding the empty harness.
Chapter 40
Combs dreaded leaving the AC in his car, and ran his hand through hair already wet with sweat. He stared at his cell phone with frustration. September’s anguished recriminations still echoed in his ear. She blamed him, and rightly so. She’d never forgive him if something happened to Shadow. Hell, he’d never forgive himself if the big black shepherd got hurt. What was he thinking, involving her? With their relationship turned rocky, anything could tip the balance in the wrong direction. Combs loved her, but trouble followed September in everything she did.
His attention shifted to the petite police officer waiting outside on the road. Officer Pilikia Teves intrigued him. Her square face boasted a natural tan. A few freckles on her bare arms matched the soot-colored curly hair that framed her strong features. Tiny gold turtle earrings offered the single nod to fashion. Slim jeans and a tank top hugged her compact 5’4” athletic build. She cultivated a hard-as-nails attitude, but he sensed she hid something more fragile underneath. None of that mattered to him at the moment. She was here to consult on the missing Hawaiian girls.
She crossed to Combs when he climbed out of the car. “News?” Her oval, slightly tilted hazel eyes gave her an exotic look.
“A complication. The tracking dog we sent after Karma—that’s the Corazon girl’s Rottweiler pup—just spooked and took off. Now I got two pissed off handlers, two dogs and an abused kid in the wind.” At least Gonzales had managed to keep September from going after Shadow, although he didn’t know how.
“A dog named Karma? Hope it’s not the bad kind. I’ve had enough of that.” She offered a tight smile. “Pilikia is Hawaiian for trouble.”
“You’re here to help, but you follow my orders, understand? I don’t need more trouble, Officer Teves.” He wasn’t in the mood for eager beaver banter. A sudden gust blew so hard he nearly lost his hat. At least it kept mosquitos at bay. Mostly. He slapped his neck. Despite sundown, triple-digit temps elevated tempers and boosted bugs. The intermittent wind made his eyes water and feel gritty.
“Understood, Detective Combs.”
“Just call me Combs.”
She nodded. “Back in Chicago they call me Tee. I only cause trouble for bad guys.” She dimpled again, and then turned serious. “I’m here to learn, and help any way I can, yeah?”
They needed a breakthrough on the case, and Combs would take it any way he could, even from someone as green as this officer. “I got a tentative ID on the body. She’s Vicki Kala, seventeen years old but with a long history of arrests for solicitation. The vice guys say she was a bottom girl used to recruit and train the newbies.”
Tee sucked in a breath. “She’s a minor, too. Using kids like that, making them sell themselves. There’s a special hell for pimps.” Her nostrils flared. “Let me guess. Vicki paid for the rooms and delivered the girls to get a little extra something from her pimp?”
Combs could tell the subject struck a nerve. Made him want to punch a wall, too. His daughter was a only a few years younger than Vicki. “Yep, bottom girls put a layer between the pimp and prosecution. He’s got deniability while she goes to prison.”
A lot of underage girls fell into the life as runaways from foster care. Someone rescued them with a place to crash, food to eat, maybe even drugs. Shortly thereafter, the kid finds out it’s payback time. She figures, why not get paid for what she used to give away to a stepdad or mom’s latest boyfriend.
He shook his head with disgust. “The system’s broke. We’re supposed to help these kids, but CPS can only do so much with the funding cuts. Once they age out of the Child Protective Services system or just disappear on the streets, they’re easy pickings for the vultures. Time ran out for Vicki. With her last arrest, she would’ve pulled some real time.”
“Instead, she’s dead from—?”
“Probable OD. Blue fingernails and purple mouth point to fentanyl spiked with something else.” He slapped at another bug, and eyed the threatening orange glow on the horizon.
Grass fires to the south and west continued to plague North Texas this time of year and the fire department, including volunteers, was stretched thin. He could taste the ash, and his eyes watered from smoke blown from miles away.
“Vicki agreed to testify for a reduced sentence.” He pulled out a stick of gum, offered her one, but she declined. “Before it got tied up all neat with a bow, somebody bailed her out.”
“Let me guess. Her pimp?” Tee rubbed the inside of her arms, tracing the pale scars that marked her olive skin.
“Or someone higher up. This wasn’t a typical local yokel running a couple of neighborhood girls for extra bucks. I’m ashamed to say Texas has one of the biggest sex trafficking problems in the country.”
“Illegals? They’d be vulnerable.” She crossed her arms, eyes narrowed, uncomfortable but playing the stoic cop card.
Combs appreciated that. It took time for new officers to earn the thick skin that allowed them to function yet remain human. She’d been a police officer for eighteen months, just reassigned from Hilo, Hawaii to Chicago. Had to be a culture shock. She aspired to become a detective. “Some of it has to do with illegals, sure. They do what they’re told to keep from being turned in to ICE.” He rubbed his eyes, and cracked his knuckles.
She stuck one hand in her pocket, perhaps to stop the fidgeting. “Maybe they get trapped in a situation they never asked for. The damage done to kids is permanent. Some never get over it.” Tee looked haunted, as if she had a personal stake in the situation. “They targeting Island girls?”
He nodded. “If that’s what a client wants, yes. Special requests command higher fees for those willing to take the chance, especially for underage girls. Penalties skyrocket with kids. The Hawaiian angle might be coincidence. No offense, but I hope it’s part of the profile. That sort of detail could nail the head of the snake, whoever’s calling the shots.”
“Yeah, well I’m still pissed I got grounded at Dallas airport. Supposed to go visit my Auntie Isabella.”
He snorted. “No accounting for air travel these days, especially at DFW. Turned out lucky for us, when you contacted Dallas PD.”
She smiled. “While I’m here, figured a quick tour would add to my education. I’m working on my bachelors in Criminal Justice. So, I make one call and the next thing I know, I’m in a squad car screaming
its way to the Oklahoma border. Sorry I had no time to change into something more appropriate.” In addition to her vacation attire, she wore spanking new cowboy boots.
“They wear those in Chicago?” He smiled.
“Gift shop at the airport. They’re for Auntie Isabella, sort of an apology for delaying our visit. Funny, she seemed excited for me to be in Texas. Said I shouldn’t argue with karma, and it’s where I need to be.” She dimpled again. “Anyway, hard to argue with Auntie. Happy to help.” Tee motioned with her own phone. “I already sent the picture of your body, Vicki Kala, with a close up of the plumeria heart earrings to colleagues back in Hilo. Good call on that.”
“Yeah, I’m not much on jewelry. Lia Corazon, who discovered the body, she recognized the design. Lia said the runner wore a matching pendant.”
“Right. Very popular in the Islands. Why would a Texas prostitute, two of them, wear Hawaiian jewelry? Gift from a client? Or a link to her heritage?” She paused when her phone rang. “I got to take this.”
Combs needed to make some calls, too. First to September, he owed her that. Then to Lia. She’d insisted she could help, and maybe the two dog ladies could partner. He got the feeling Lia held back information, and that irked him.
Before he could dial, the radio broadcast the code for fire. Damn. Mele’s risk just increased tenfold. Combs climbed back into the car, cranked up the AC and used the dashboard laptop to find the online site that tracked grass fires in the area.
“Hey Detective, you’re not going to believe this.” Tee’s grim expression told him the news wasn’t good. “My guys recognized your victim. Vicki was her nickname on the Island, too. Wikolia Pa’akaula disappeared five years ago during a vacation with her family in San Antonio.”