Zero Island (Blessid Trauma Crime Scene Cleaners Book 2) by Chris Bauer (i want to read a book TXT) 📕

She had access to, and existed mostly because of, men like Wally, who appreciated the finer female form matched with the finer aspects of pugilism in all its forms: chickens, dogs, vipers, hogs, men, women. Plucked from among the between-rounds ring walkers at legitimate boxing venues, Shiko was one of the hot chicks in the hot pants who held up the placards announcing the next round number—when she was younger. What Wally remembered of her twenty years later, from past encounters, was she could still fill out an outfit.

“No cocks, no dogs, no snakes, Wally. Straight bareknuckles, mano a mano. I’m right on your tail, so now’s good, sweetie. Find a place to stop and I’ll join you in your limo.” She ended the call with a kissy noise.

Wally’s driver found a restaurant parking lot. Shiko exited her car from the passenger side, slid into Wally’s back seat. Heels, wide jeans to accommodate her significant hips, tight top that almost didn’t accommodate her bosom. Shiny black hair in a bun. Intoxicating cherry blossom fragrance. Sakura, by Dior, Wally recalled.

“Nice Escalade, Wally dear. Good to see you.” Her kissy lips brushed against Wally’s right cheek. “My driver will follow us.”

“I thought you were dead, Shiko,” Wally said.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” She smoothed out a crease in her buttoned-up, high-neck blouse.

“Because I thought I killed you.”

“Oh. That. At that last cockfight. Yeah, that was brutal, wasn’t it? No, my gamecock Orca died, so did my deadbeat ex-husband, but your bullets missed me. Then you went to prison. The Feds, right?”

“Right.”

“Anyway, good to see you. So here’s the deal…”

“No deal, because I have no interest, Shiko. Who’s your friend?”

“’Course you will, Wally, after I give you the details…”

“And how did you find me?”

“And we’re back to talking about ‘my friend.’” She air-quoted. “It was him. He knows where and how to find you. But I can’t tell you about ‘my friend’ because I don’t actually know who he is. He pops up from time to time on my phone. Him and his money. Not even sure it’s a guy. Anywho, he, they, whoever, has a fighter he’s showcasing, is looking for some action. I’ll get to meet him if I can get you interested. And since you’re back in town…”

“Only temporarily.” Wally reached over and grabbed her purse.

“Is that really necessary, Wally?”

He tossed the purse to Magpie. “Find her phone.”

Magpie found a phone in the bag, started keying it. “Needs a password, boss.”

“Shiko?” Wally said to her expectantly. “Give it up.”

“Wasting your time, Wally, but sure. It’s ‘sayonara.’ Back to the fight…”

Magpie nodded, the password was good, kept keying, searching.

“No fight, Shiko. If you’re not willing to share any info with me, get out.”

“Why not? Big money, and he’ll make it a local venue. You could even take me. I could be your date. Like old times.”

Wally eyed Magpie, looking for good news about the phone number search, friend search, email search, phone info dump, anything useful that Magpie might be able to glean from her contact info. “A new phone, boss. A burner. She chatted with Uber, that’s all.”

“Like I said,” she said, “you’re wasting your time. I don’t have my personal phone with me. You’re really being a dick here, Wally.”

“Shut the fuck up. Here’s what I’m gonna do. Magpie, give her the burner back. What’s your phone number, Shiko?”

“Ha, sure, my personal phone number. Right.”

“Never mind. I’ve got the number for the burner.” Wally added it in his contact list.

“I’m sending you something, Shiko. A text with a photo and a name. There. If your friend can locate this woman for me—she could be anywhere—I’ll think about participating in a fight he promotes. For the fight to be worth my while, the purse would need to be, let’s say, three hundred thousand, nothing less. But I need a solid lead on this woman or no fucking deal. Got that?”

“Who is she to you again, Wally, this…” Shiko read the name from the text. “Kaipo Mawpaw? Your wife? A girlfriend? Who?”

“No more info, Shiko. Do as I say, maybe we can cut a deal. Now, back to my original request…” Wally reached across her lap, opened the door. “… that you get the fuck out. Get back to me if you learn something about this woman.”

With their guest gone, the limo returned to the road. Magpie spoke up. “Boss, I think that was a bad move.”

“What was a bad move?”

“Telling her your agenda, giving her that picture of Kaipo. Too much info. You don’t need any more players. We’ve got a network. We’ll find her.”

“You’re taking too long, Magpie. I… we need her back now. No one leaves Ka Hui unless I say so. No one.”

“It gives someone else too much leverage, Wally. Who knows what they’ll do if they find her first—”

Worse yet, Wally now opined, who knew what he’d do if he never found her.

He choked it all back, didn’t, couldn’t comment. His plans for her. His needs. What could have been, all of it going unrealized.

Scorched earth was where he was. All or nothing. If he couldn’t have her…

No, he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t let anyone do that. He loved her.

14

Kaipo was in mother-hen mode. An Uber picked her up at Vena’s place early a.m., Vena hungover from switching to hard lemonade somewhere between seven and eight the prior p.m. With Vena sleeping in, Kaipo had some recon to do, meeting as many acquaintances who’d relocated to Kauai from homesteads on Miakamii as she could find, to spread the word. Destination number one, a suggestion from Vena, the Kauai Ultimate Off-Road Ranch Tour at the Kipu Ranch. Her recommended first contact was Toggle Monapalui, mid-twenties, younger brother to Troy Monapalui, a high-school friend of Kaipo and Vena until an on-the-job accident in the off-road tourism business took Troy’s life.

She set aside three hours for this adventure-slash-counseling session. Helmet, safety goggles, seat belt, 4WD ATV, check. Unpaved trails that climbed eight hundred feet above sea level, and