“I’ve been watching you for years now. I know you’ve been struggling.” She flicked away some ashes before patting my leg. “But you’re a good girl, so I won’t give you a sermon.”
“Thanks.” I sipped the coffee she’d handed me. It was rich and filled with flavors. “Kona coffee,” I said, impressed that she’d spend her money on me.
“Only the best,” she said as she stared out over the ocean. “It’s beautiful here. Paradise. People come from all over the world with high expectations, don’t they?”
I nodded. I’d stayed in Oahu, despite my empty pockets, because I’d fallen in love with the land, the people, and their relaxed pace. Both my parents were overachievers. Type A plus-plus personalities with a shot of espresso added into the mix. They strove to be the best at everything. And since I was their daughter, I was expected to be the best by default. Between the soccer, the girl scouts, the softball, the basketball, the knitting, the theater, the swim team, the debate team, piano lessons, and academic perfection—my childhood had been exhausting.
But my childhood had taught me one thing—never to give up.
“What do you think is happening to these women, Brandi?”
She shrugged and tightened her lips. “I hate to think about it. They’re lost souls, each one of them.”
“Do you think they’re alive?”
Brandi shrugged again.
“I visited Mr. Fu yesterday,” I said, trying to learn something, anything new. “He refused to see me. Have you heard anything about him lately?”
She chewed on her bottom lip.
“What?” I pressed.
“I—I don’t know.” She was lying of course. And I needed to know what she knew. It could be important. Even if it wasn’t important, I still needed to know. Or else I’d keep thinking about it, wondering about it, and I’d be distracted from finding the missing women.
“Just between you and me, Brandi. You know I can be trusted with a secret.”
“It’s nothing,” she said and waved her hand in the air. “Some of the girls say he’s been acting strangely, that’s all.”
“How so?”
She leaned forward and whispered, “He’s been interviewing some of the new ones.”
“For what?”
“Who knows? He hasn’t been able to enjoy a woman for several years now. I was one of his last. And even back then nothing happened.”
“Did he interview the missing girls?”
“I don’t know.” She drew a quick breath. “I’m sure it’s not related.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but to be on the safe side, I’d like to talk to one of the girls he’s interviewed lately. Can you give me a name?”
“No,” she said too quickly.
“Come on, Brandi. I won’t make trouble for you. I’ll be subtle.”
“No one is supposed to talk about the interviews. I shouldn’t know about them, and neither should you. The girls could get into trouble if Mr. Fu found out that one of them was talking when she should be keeping her mouth shut. And you don’t want to cross Mr. Fu.”
I’d always assumed that Mr. Fu’s reputation was far worse than what everyone said. Fear gave him power, and I’d witnessed firsthand his compassion. He wasn’t a violent man.
But what if he was behind the kidnappings?
“This is important, Brandi. I need a name.”
She shook her head.
“Those women could die,” I pressed. “They might already be dead. We need to stop whoever’s taking them.”
Brandi rose. She looked nervous. “Find Sally Porter. She might talk.”
IT WAS WELL AFTER MIDNIGHT and I was still searching for Sally Porter—a woman none of the prostitutes seemed to know—when I noticed that my shadow had returned. Not wanting anyone to witness my meeting with this mysterious Sally Porter—I was still confident I could find her—I gave my shadow the slip at the Ala Wai Canal by climbing into a thick growth of mangrove trees on the bank of the canal. Their web-like roots and limbs swallowed me into their darkness, making me as invisible as the native plants the alien mangrove trees were displacing.
My shadow poked around the area for a while and then continued down the main road without me. Feeling extremely clever, I climbed out of the tree and brushed mud from my arms and legs. Not only had I outsmarted my mystery man, crouching up in that tree had given me time to think. And that’s where it had hit me. Of course I hadn’t been able to find Sally Porter. I’d been running around like a headless chicken all day and hadn’t been looking in any of the right places.
Brandi had told me that Mr. Fu had been interviewing women who were new to the streets. Very few women chose prostitution as a fulltime career. Instead, it was a tempting hell that one slipped into...slowly. First, like Tina, a woman might tell herself that she’d do it for just one night to pay the bills. To make ends meet. But the bills would pile up again. And then one night becomes two nights. Two becomes a week. Soon, she’s depending on the money she can make from peddling her flesh.
Sally Porter, like Tina, was new to the streets. Which meant she was probably still holding out hope of landing a decent job that could pay for food, clothes...rent. If I had any chance of finding her, I needed to visit some of the same shelters I’d used when I was homeless.
I shivered at the thought of returning to the very places I had firmly vowed to leave in my near-starving past. But for the missing girls, I would have to do this.
At first, my efforts gave me nothing, and I was beginning to wonder if I was wasting my time. Perhaps Brandi had given me bad information. Perhaps there was no Sally Porter. No one had heard of her at the local YMCA or the women’s shelter. An older woman, who was the night manager at a rundown old hotel that made Mamma Jo’s place look like the Ritz, thought she knew the name. But she was pretty sure Sally was no longer a registered guest. She suggested I try the park.
Just across the canal from Waikiki there’s an oceanfront park that spans several blocks. At night, the grassy areas under the protective canopy of the coconut, banyan and monkey pod trees served as home to those who couldn’t afford even the seediest dive. I know, I’d slept there myself often enough.
It was nearing midnight by the time I reached the spidery, fern-like leaves of the monkey pod trees in the park. A spring concert was wrapping up, and the homeless were moving to the far reaches of the park, mostly under the banyan trees, where the vine-like roots hung down from the long branches like curtains, while the tourists and locals headed to their comfortable beds.
Bed. My sleep-deprived body was crying out for my bed, which brought tears to my eyes. Like Sally Porter and girls like her, I had no place to call my own. Not anymore. Not unless I wanted to face Pete and explain to him why I’d been lying to him...and why I’d let him sleep with me under false pretenses.
Perhaps sleeping under the stars wouldn’t be such a bad thing. The weather was warm and the moon bright in the sky. The gentle sound of waves lapping at the shore soothed my tired bones. As I made my way through the park, striking up conversations with whoever would talk to me, I searched for a safe, comfortable place of my own.
Not that I’d use it. But a wise girl always knew her options.
My mother had drilled that sentiment into my head from a very young age. A wise girl always knows all her options. No matter how farfetched. Perhaps that’s why I’m pretty damn good at this detective thing.
I was thinking about how I should call Mom to thank her for guiding me to Hawaii and my calling in life when I found Sally.
“You’re really Sally Porter?” I asked for the third time. I giggled from delight and from that punch-drunk high only exhaustion could bring.
I’d found her! Finally, I’d found her! And she was going to help me solve the case. After gaining her confidence—by pushing some of that cash Pete had given me into her hands—I led her away from the group of college students she’d hooked up with for the night and over to a bench next to a pond where a couple of homeless men wer
e doing a little night fishing for the sleek keiki-kine who lived in the waters. The men nodded in our direction and returned to their quiet conversation. All in all, everyone pretty much minded their own business.
“I-I really shouldn’t be talking about any of this,” Sally said, but pocketed the money I’d handed her.
“I won’t go blabbing what you tell me to anyone. You can trust me on that.”
“I don’t even know you.” She was a small woman. Her hair was as black as the night with eyes that matched. She was wearing a touristy T-shirt with a smiling surfer on the front and a map of the islands on the back. Her denim shorts were a couple of inches too short, but clean. And she looked well fed. I was betting Mr. Fu had paid her handsomely for her time, the old softy.
“You’re right, you don’t know me. But I know you,” I said, leaning in close and lowering my voice. “You have a stash of money hidden away, and yet you didn’t spend any of it on a room for the night. You won’t, not until you find a steady job.”
“How do you know?”
“I used to be you. Well, not exactly you...” I’d never sold my body, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. She didn’t need to feel as if I was judging her. I’d simply made different decisions. Different bad decisions. I’m betting she would never pick the pockets of newlywed couples. I did...until I got caught. “Like you, I was just as careful with every penny I could get my hands on.”
“But life got better?”
“Things aren’t perfect, but you could say I’ve hit a patch of good luck.”
“I’m glad,” she whispered, shaking her head to fight off the tears that glistened in the moonlight. “I’m really glad to hear it.” She was thinking of herself, of course. And of her own future. That was something I could use to my advantage.
“Let me help you get to a stable place in your own life,” I urged, figuring I was about to get myself a roommate. “Tell me about this meeting you had with Mr. Fu.”
“Meeting...?” She tilted her head back and stared at the sky. “He didn’t want me to talk about it, but I don’t know why. It wasn’t as if he’d told me anything shocking or had asked me to do anything illegal. It was odd. He didn’t exactly come out and say it but I got the impression that he wanted me to—”
I didn’t get to hear the rest. Someone slammed into me—hard—and suddenly I was on the ground. Sally screamed as she fled...with my money...leaving me alone to fend for myself.
“Hey!” I protested. I didn’t have the time to fight off yet another horny drunk. I needed to find out what Sally knew. It could help me save Tina’s life. “I was having a conversation here!”
“Conversation over,” my mysterious shadow in white growled, his face inches from mine. I’d been so careful to lose him, and still, he’d found me. “Keep out of Mr. Fu’s business,” he said, and plunged a knife into my gut.
Getting shot in the shoulder last year had felt like someone had taken a hot poker, stuck me with it, and then had used that same searing hot poker to keep me pinned to the ground. It had been the worst pain I could ever imagine.
Until now.
I’d doubled over, hugging my middle, trying to hold my spilling blood inside me. I needed that blood. Without it...
I was dying. I was sure of it. And Pete still thought I was selling my body.
I should have told him the truth.
I should have...
I should...
“Pete...”
Chapter 4
“KOKAMI, KYRA! WHAT THE HELL were you thinking going anywhere alone in the middle of the night? Especially to that park?” Pete demanded. I don’t think he expected an answer. In fact, I don’t think he realized I was conscious.
I hadn’t died. Though at the moment, I wished I had. Not from the pain. Oh no, I’d been pumped so full of painkillers I couldn’t even feel the bed beneath me. I was floating in a cloud of medicated bliss. But I’d also been listening to Pete swear at me for the past ten minutes. He dredged his fingers through his hair and started pacing again.
“What the hell were you doing out there?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Officer Blakely said as he entered the private room. His slender black shoes squeaked as he walked across the highly polished linoleum floor. “She was selling her body again, only this time she met up with the wrong Joe.”
Pete’s face turned a strange color. Sort of a greenish-gray. He looked as if he needed to sit down. “She wasn’t selling her body,” he said. His voice sounded odd...raspy. “What are you doing here, Kevin?”
Blakely calmly picked at his nails. “The captain wants me to take her statement.”
“It’ll have to wait. She’s not awake yet.”
“Yes, she is.”
“She’s—?” Pete turned to me. “You’re awake? For how long?”
I tried to give him a disarming smile. I don’t think I pulled it off. It wasn’t as if I could feel my lips. And since neither man smiled back, I was sure I had to be doing something wrong.
Instead of expressing gratitude at this being-alive miracle I’d managed to pull off, Pete launched into a lengthy lecture regarding personal safety. I must have dozed off halfway through. Not that it mattered. He’d recited the same chapter and verse shortly after I had jumped in front of the bullet that had been meant for him. When I opened my eyes again, I was alone. Which was good. I needed the time to think.
I still couldn’t believe that Mr. Fu had hired someone to kill me just because I’d been questioning Sally Porter. That didn’t make sense. From what Sally had been able to tell me, it didn’t sound as if she knew what Mr. Fu was up to. And Mr. Fu wouldn’t want me dead. I’d saved him from being taken from his home—a home he never leaves—to be locked away in a jailhouse. He’d been grateful. Tears had filled his eyes, and he’d vowed that he owed me a debt that could never be repaid.
I would have asked him to try a little harder to repay that debt if I’d known he was going to forget all about how I’d helped him and hire someone to kill me. Hell, Mr. Fu probably paid a small fortune to the man who’d stabbed me.
I really needed to get on the ball and start demanding my clients pay me what I’m worth. Oh, I enjoyed my work, I really did, but that wasn’t a good reason to be working for peanuts. No one was giving me housing or food for free. Like everyone else in the world, I have expenses. I need to make a living. I needed to get a backbone.
But Anna, although she couldn’t pay me, I wasn’t going to give up on looking for her sister. And I wasn’t going to give up on Sally Porter, either.
Who was I kidding? Nothing was going to change.
“I spoke with Brandi shortly after they brought you in last night,” Pete said, startling me out of my skin. I’d thought I was alone in the room. How long had he been leaning against the far wall, watching me? “She told me you were back to your old tricks, that you’ve reopened your illegal P.I. service.”
Reopened wasn’t quite the right word. My service had never closed—I’d simply become more...um...careful. But I wasn’t about to correct him. Instead, I reached down and gingerly touched the thick bandage plastered to my middle.
“How much damage did he do?” I asked.
“He?” Pete asked, raising a brow. He stayed in the corner, looking too damned calm. Personally, I was a mess. There was so much ground we needed to cover—my P.I. business, the mysterious shadow who’d tried to kill me, the missing girls, that night we spent together...in my bed. And the future of our friendship.
I didn’t want to talk about any of it.
“What have the doctors been saying? Are all my internal parts intact?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. He knew me well enough to recognize a stalling technique. I’m sure he would have called me on it if I hadn’t recently been stabbed in the gut. Instead, he just shook his head. “You must have twisted away at just the right moment. It seems you have good instincts for those kinds of things. Unfortunately, you’re sorely lacking when it comes to...” He tu
rned to stare out the tiny window into the silvery predawn light.
“So, I’m going to live.” I should have felt happier about it. “There was so much blood, I was sure that I was headed to the big luau in the sky without getting the chance to let you know that...that I’d never... I—I’m glad I didn’t die.”
“I’m surprised to hear that, Kyra, especially considering how you treat your life so carelessly.”
He was wrong about that, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. Doing so would only open up that can of worms I was trying so hard to avoid.
“When will I get to go home?” I asked, trying not to let his angry words hurt me.
“Home, Kyra? You have no home. You have the charity Mamma Jo gives you. Nothing more.”
Pain sliced through my middle, making me want to curl up into a ball. But I couldn’t. Not in front of Pete. Not unless I wanted him to figure out how in-over-my-head-over-heels I was in love with him.
“You know what I mean, Pete. And if you don’t stop being mean to me, I’m going to be sure everyone at HPD gets a good look of that picture I have of you...in full native garb.”
His eyes flashed in my direction. “You wouldn’t.”
“Trust me, I would.”
His lips twisted. Could my charming Aloha Pete be fighting a smile? “You must not value your life much.”
“As you’ve already determined. When will I get to move back into my room at Mamma Jo’s?”
“You won’t be. I’ve moved your belongings to my house. You’re going be living with me.”
“With you?” I felt suddenly pinned to the bed. “No, Pete. I won’t. I can’t.”
OKAY, I KNOW WHAT you’re thinking. I was being handed my dream man—my dream life—on a golden platter. Was I insane? Was I an idiot? How could I turn down his offer and not end up kicking myself for the rest of my life?
I suppose I could blame it on the painkillers. They were spectacular. But I knew the truth. It all came down to one thing, the one thing many believe foreign to someone like me...someone who was a step away from living on the street again. Despite everything, I had a strong sense of right and wrong. I wasn’t going to allow myself to be bullied into doing anything for the wrong reasons.
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