Birds in Paradise

Part 16

"Are you crazy?" Brandi demanded. I'd been wallowing in my misery over what had happened between Pete and me when I had, literally, bumped into her in downtown Waikiki. She had taken one look at me and dragged me to the closest restaurant, an outside café overlooking the Pacific, to buy me lunch. A light breeze was blowing off the water. It was another perfect day in paradise.

If she had been a man, I would have been suspicious. First coffee and now a hot lunch. And she seemed to pop up whenever I was at my lowest. I mentioned that to her and she turned her head heavenward and called it divine intervention. I wasn't sure about that, but I did appreciate her willingness to listen.

"It doesn't seem like a good idea. I can't imagine that you've thought this through, Kyra."

"I won't be throwing her to the wolves. I'll be there with her," I argued even though she was right, I hadn't thought it through. In fact, I was telling her my plan as it was taking shape. "Tina's sister, Anna, is young and beautiful. I think she would work as the perfect lure."

"What about the police? Blakely has been arresting pretty much everyone you've interviewed, you know."

I didn't know that, but it didn't surprise me. I wouldn't put it past him to follow me around, hoping I would lead him to the kidnapper. He never was known for doing his own work. I remember several incidences when he worked with Pete, where he'd tried to steal all the credit. Pete never let him get away with it. Instead, he would laugh off Blakely's efforts to discredit him. I never understood their relationship. If it were me, I wouldn't have been as forgiving.

"If Blakely sees you with Anna, she'll end up in jail," Brandi warned.

"I'll be careful. I won't let him see her."

"And will you let her sell her body?"

"Of course not."

Brandi sat back and gave me an indulgent smile. "Then how will you identify the kidnapper? Do you think he sees a prostitute he likes and, risking exposure, drags her off the street right then and there."

"No, of course he—"

"He would employ her for the night and take her back to his place. So, how are you going to decide which big bad wolf to let this sweet little Anna of yours go home with?"

"I-I—" I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I need a different plan, I suppose." I shook my head trying to organize my cluttered thoughts. "I was poisoned, you know. I think it's muddled my brain."

Brandi bit her lower lip and smiled indulgently.

Okay. What did I have to work with? I was smart and clever. I should have been able to puzzle this out.

"Mr. Fu was interviewing new prostitutes, looking for a mother for his future child," I said, thinking aloud. "One of those women has gone missing. But not all of them. So that's not the common thread. The girls were all new to the street, though."

Brandi nodded.

"The women are getting stress from all sides. New imported Asian girls are flooding the indoor establishments. The police are harassing the girls working the streets, especially Blakely." Blakely with the thousand dollar shoes. "I should have asked Pete if he gave Blakely those shoes."

"What shoes?" Brandi asked.

"Nothing. I'm sure it's not related. Mr. Fu has to be wrong about that."

"Mr. Fu is never wrong," Brandi said, echoing the same thought I'd already had. "He might not leave that house of his, but he knows what's going on in this city more than anyone else."

"Perhaps not anymore. He looked bad, Brandi."

Brandi shrugged and then tapped her carton of cigarettes on the bench. "Hell, I'm down to my last one. I get these from an importer who used to be one of my regular customers. We're friends now, and he still supplies me with the best handmade cigarettes out of Vietnam. But because I'm no longer giving out, he's no longer saving cartons for me. So he runs out. He won't make another import run until he's filled his boat with goods that he exports to Vietnam."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, annoyed that she was interrupting my train of thought.

"It means I'm out of good cigarettes after I smoke this one."

"You should give it up. It's an unhealthy habit, anyhow," I scolded.

"What? Are you preaching to me now?" She chuckled.

What a strange world I lived in. Brandi was worried about imported cigarettes from Asia while the other girls were fighting mad about the new imported prostitutes coming in from Asia.

"What does he export?" I asked her.

"I don't know. I'm sure whatever he's doing, it's not legal. I've been telling him that he needs to change his ways. But if he did, he'd have to stop bringing me my cigs."

"I wonder," I said tapping my finger against the wooden slat on the bench as some of the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. "What if you're right, Brandi? What if Mr. Fu is never wrong?"

I told her what I was thinking, expecting her to laugh and call me crazy.

Her eyes grew wide with concern, not laughter. She reached over the table and gave my arm a gentle squeeze. "I think I might be able to help you out."