Birds in Paradise

Part 2

Gad, I was uncomfortable parading down the street in my rubber flip-flops while fighting the urge to tug at my skirt. Rule number one to undercover work: blend. On the glitzy sidewalks of Waikiki in front the high-priced storefronts of Channel and Versace, where I liked to conduct my PI business, this outfit stuck out like a sunburned Midwesterner. Unfortunately, where I was headed I would look conservative.

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."