Birds in Paradise (2 page)

Daisy, a small but tough, oriental woman who couldn’t have been much older than me, was the first to greet me when I stepped off the bus. She followed me as I wandered a short way down a narrow alleyway where a group of ladies were standing around, waiting for men to find them.

Okay, Daisy hadn’t exactly greeted me. She’d growled and displayed her pretty row of white teeth, save for one that had been chipped during a violent encounter her first time on the streets.

“Did Mamma Jo finally kick you out of your cushy nest?” she asked me.

“Maybe she’s working for the police now,” a dark eyed beauty I didn’t recognize said. The girl sounded scared. Several of the other girls started to crowd around.

An election was coming up, and that meant the police would be put under extra pressure to clean up these back streets. I didn’t blame the politicians, the police, or the women peddling their bodies for that matter. They were all doing what they thought was necessary. I blamed the men who paid for the women. Heck, I wouldn’t mind seeing any of them hung up by their—

But I’m straying from the main thrust of the story
.

Brandi, a plump bleached blonde who had to be close to fifty, pushed a brochure into my hand. “It’s not too late,” she said quietly. “There is help for you. All you have to do is ask.”

I glanced down at the paper she’d handed me. It was a flier from a local church.

“You’ve been saved?” I asked her, somewhat surprised. Brandi had been a fixture out here. The young ones thought of her as ‘the original hooker’.

“I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been all these years.” She puffed on a cigarette. “These girls, they don’t have to make the same mistakes I have. There are other options.”

“I know. I was lucky to find one early on,” I said, and handed her back the brochure.

She blew out a stream of smoke and shook her head. “Then what’cha you doing here?”

I held up my hands and gave her a wan smile. “I’m just looking to talk.”

“Talk. Right. And those are your talkin’ clothes?”

I rooted around in my purse for the photo of Tina that her sister had provided. “They sure are, if you’re willing to talk about her,” I said after pushing the picture into her hands.

Brandi scrunched up her nose and made a face.

“She belonged in the tourist areas. This street ain’t a pretty place. Not a place for beginners. I told her to repent. To save her soul. But she told me she couldn’t. Not until she got enough money. Like money is more important than salvation.” Brandi shook her head. “Poor stupid kid.”

“We all start out that way,” I pointed out.

“What you whispering about over here?” Daisy pushed me out of the way and snatched the photo from Brandi. “Who’s that?”

“Tina,” I said. “Her sister told me that she was working in this area a few nights ago. She’s gone missing.”

Daisy turned the photo on its side and squinted. “Why you care?”

“Because she can’t be much older than eighteen, and she can’t survive out here alone.”

“I was doing fine on my own ever since I was fourteen,” Daisy said. A couple of men were heading in their direction. “And I’ve got money to make.”

Taking a gamble that Daisy did know Tina, I grabbed her arm. “I’ll give you $50 to stay and talk with me for a half-hour.”

I had to pay up front. And the two men were greeted by a couple of other girls. Daisy shrugged and turned her gaze back to the photo.

“I told her to go work in Waikiki. But she said she’d heard about the police and didn’t want to risk getting caught. Most of the business has gone inside nowadays, anyhow. It’s slow out here.”

“So she stayed?”

Daisy grimaced. “We didn’t make her welcome.”

“I gave her a brochure. She needed guidance,” Brandi said, her voice rising. “You all need guidance.” She raced over to where the two men were talking with the girls. “Repent. Turn away from your evil ways.”

The men took off running. Alone.

I bit back a cheer. Good for Brandi and her new goal in life! The girls who’d just lost business didn’t share my enthusiasm. They started cursing up a blue streak.

Daisy laughed. “Between Brandi, the police, and the indoor establishments with their influx of young Vietnamese imports, I’m wasting my time out here. We all are.”

“So why don’t you look for something better?”

Daisy shrugged. “I suppose I will sooner or later.”

“Do you remember if Tina had any luck finding a man to...um...hook up with the other night?”

Daisy closed her eyes. After a long silence she said, “I don’t know. I want to say no. I don’t remember seeing her walk off with any of the guys. It would have caused an outburst, you know, with the other girls. But I don’t remember her hanging around all night, either. Perhaps she found somewhere else to work?”

Before leaving, I questioned the other girls. None of them were as helpful as Daisy. With nothing better to work with, I visited a few other spots in the downtown that night, talking with the women, trying to find out if Daisy was right. Did Tina try and find another place to work?

By sunrise, I felt as if I’d been down every street in Honolulu, and no one other than Daisy and her friends had recognized Tina’s photo.

Exhausted and feeling more than a little discouraged, I went home and collapsed in my bed. Less than a half-hour passed before the sound of someone trying to break down my door woke me up with a jolt.

As soon as I unlatched the lock, the door swung open and bounced violently off the wall. A wild-eyed Aloha Pete thundered into the room. He grabbed my arm with bruising strength.

“I thought we were friends,” he shouted as he took in every scanty inch of the street-wear I hadn’t bothered to remove. “More than friends.”

My heart stuttered. Had he come to the same conclusion I had ages ago? And had he found being apart from me for even a moment longer unbearable? Was he truly expressing an interest in making our relationship more personal? More intimate?

“Y-yes?” I said, my mouth going dry as my hopes soared.

His voice deepened. “You’re my ‘ohana. My family.”

“Oh,” I said and rubbed my blurry and, suddenly, teary eyes. “Family. Like a sister.”

He nodded.

I huffed and tried to pull out of his bruising hold.

“For God’s sake,” he said, and tightened his grip on me. “Put on some decent clothes so I can take you out to breakfast.” Very brotherly sounding, I was forced to admit to my breaking heart.

“Let go of me, then.” I batted at his muscular arm. “I can’t get dressed with you swinging me about like a broom.”

“No, I suppose you can’t,” he conceded, and backed himself into the hallway. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

A little less than an hour later, I’d changed into a pair of worn jeans shorts and a faded gray T-shirt. With my hair in a simple ponytail, I found myself sitting across from Pete at his favorite 24-hour diner in Waikiki.

Even after downing two mugs of coffee and a healthy serving of eggs, he was still scowling.

“I wish you had come to me first.” He pushed a wad of cash over toward me.

I stared at the money, not sure what to say.

“Go on, take it.” He sighed. “It’s not going to bite you, and it doesn’t come with any expectations.”

By now I was thoroughly confused. “I don’t want your money.” Okay, that was a lie. I desperately needed to pay some bills, and that wad of cash would make my life a helluva lot easier, especially considering I was spending the bulk of my time on a non-paying client.

But why was Pete so angry with me? And why was he showering me with money? When I continued to stare at the pile of bills on the table, Pete growled at me and shoved the cash into my hand, forcibly curling my fingers around it.

“I know what you did last night.” His voice tightened. “I heard it from a beat cop who picked up several so-called ladies.”

I stiffened. I had to be cautious. I remembered only too clearly his promise to lock me away if he discovered I was still private detecting without a license.

“What
exactly
did you hear I was doing?”

His tan cheeks turned a funny shade of pink and he whispered, “Don’t make me say it.”

“If you want me to accept this money, you’re going to have to tell me what you heard about me.” I wasn’t worried only about my detective business. I was genuinely curious what people out on the street were saying about me. And I suppose I was too tired to figure it out for myself.

He swallowed hard. “I heard you sold your body.”

I started to deny it—

“If you’re in trouble, come to me. I want to help you.” His hand closed over mine. “Let me help you.”

All I could do was nod. A lump had landed in my throat. I was touched, truly touched by the thought that Pete cared. God, I had to tell him the truth. He was worried about me.
Me!
I couldn’t let him think that I had...

“You saved my life. Took a bullet for me. I owe you, Kyra.”

“Right. You owed me a debt.” I pushed away from the table and stuffed the money into my pocket. “Consider it paid.”

LAST NIGHT ANOTHER GIRL WENT MISSING.
When I heard about it, my determination to find Tina kicked up a notch.

About an hour before sunset, I strolled down the palm-lined boulevards of Waikiki, across the canal, and toward the downtown of Honolulu. Tucked in the middle of an industrial area is a small house with a paper sign on the window that simply reads, “Mr. Fu.”

I jogged up the concrete steps and knocked on the wooden door. Almost immediately the door opened a crack. A rheumy eye peered out.

“What you want?” an ancient voice scraped.

“I need to talk with Mr. Fu.”

“He not here.” The door started to close.

I’d walked a long way and was hot and not in the mood to play games with the man’s housekeeper. I thrust my foot between the door and the jamb—a stupid move when wearing flip-flops. However painful, I stopped the door from closing.

“Tell him Kyra Grainger has come to collect on a debt,” I said through gritted teeth. My foot throbbed like the devil.

Certainly Mr. Fu would welcome me with open arms. I’d kept him out of jail about a year ago when some young street whelp was trying to frame the old man for murder. He’d paid me handsomely, but still, he’d said himself that no amount of money could repay the debt he’d owed me. Actually, Pete’s early morning visit had put the idea in my head. Mr. Fu
owed
me. And even though he never left this house, he had his finger on the pulse of the city.

“He not here,” the she-dragon said. “Move your foot or I’ll squish it.”

“What?” Mr. Fu never left his house. Never. As in never-ever. Not even for a stroll in his back yard. “Is he—? Is he still alive?”

“He alive, but won’t be seeing you, missy. Move that foot.”

My foot barely made it out of the way before Mr. Fu’s housekeeper slammed the door into the jamb with a thunderous bang.

So much for everlasting gratitude...

I turned around and saw the man who’d been following me standing across the street. He tipped his white hat and smiled.

“Hey!” I called. This wasn’t the first time I’d tried to confront my shadow. And just like all the other times, he took off running. I tried to follow him, limping on the foot that was still throbbing. By the time I’d chased him a block, he was nowhere to be found. Gone. Poof. Like a freaking phantom.

I couldn’t help but wonder if my shadow in white was the reason for Mr. Fu’s refusal to see me. But no... That would be impossible. Mr. Fu was as old as the volcanoes. And tough. Not even the devil himself would be able to scare him.

This sudden change had to do with something else. But what?

In order to find out, I would have to work my way up the Fu hierarchy. And that would take days—days the missing Tina didn’t have.

After hoofing it back to the hotel and washing a load of towels that Mamma Jo had dropped into my arms as soon as she’d spotted me, I changed into a black leather miniskirt that looked downright modest compared to last night’s spandex number and pulled on a tiny white T-shirt that hugged my generous curves. A pair of FM shoes with heels higher than the Empire State Building made up for the fact that I left off the piles of makeup tonight. I pulled my hair into a ponytail—it made me look younger—and set out for the back streets with Tina’s picture tucked into my purse.

My shadow had either found someone more interesting or was doing a better job at keeping hidden. But the damage was done. Every few steps I found myself glancing over my shoulder, watching for him.

Before I could find anyone to question, six men, all reeking of too much drink and too little finesse, encircled me and offered to show me what a real man could do. I was tempted—oh, so tempted—to ask them where they were hiding the “real man” they wanted me to meet. But I bit my tongue and pulled out the photograph of Tina instead.

Only one seemed interested and actually took a look at the photo. He then had to balls to ask for a two-for-one. I patted him on the shoulder and told him that he couldn’t handle it.

Wrong move on my part. But, in my defense, it was late, I was tired, and those creeps didn’t deserve my respect.

Before I could get two steps away from him, he grabbed my arm, spun me around with that crazy strength drunks sometimes get and slugged me. Hard.

Damn. It hurt. Tears sprang to my eyes. And I was weaving.

The jerk wasted no time putting his hands exactly where they had no business going. The collar of my tiny T-shirt ripped as he tried to strip me right there in the middle of the sidewalk. I suppose he figured I owed him a freebie.

Even if I were that kind of girl, I wouldn’t be giving it up to this creep for free. Double the fee, perhaps. No, all the money in the world wouldn’t be worth it. His breath stank like the bottom of an over-ripe trash bin.

He grabbed my ponytail and jammed his tongue into my mouth. This sucked. If this was what the women on the street had to put up with, my heart went out to them. I was grateful I didn’t have to make a living by putting up with such immature cretins. And with that happy thought, I promptly kneed him in the groin.