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Tee squinted against the single bare bulb swaying high overhead. It painted stark shadows in the smelly bathroom. She flexed achy wrists, zip-tied by the silent red-haired woman—Momma Ruth?—who had dragged her through the shabby cowboy diner and down the narrow hall, to lock her in. She suspected a back room in the building played host to cockfights, if the birds in the yard were any indication. The smell of chicken poop added to the miasma.
With quick efficiency, she searched the tiny room. In the last of the three stalls, a figure cowered, squatting between the nasty commode and the wall in an effort to be invisible. Dark hair curtained her face, making it hard to judge age. “Hey, are you hurt? Come on out.” Tee gestured with her bound hands. “We’re locked in. But not for long.” She imbued the promise with as much conviction as possible, knowing Combs and the team would find them. Without the tracking device, it would take longer, but he’d figure out her backup plan. She had to believe that, anyway.
The delicate form unfolded, and Tee helped her up. “What’s your name?”
“Alana.” A child, maybe ten or twelve at most. Scarred skin. Haunted eyes.
Tee looked away, seeing too much of herself. “Pretty name, Alana.” In Hawaiian, it meant offering. Tee wondered what sicko had made an offering of this child. “How you stay? You okay? My name is—”
Karma’s distant barking stopped her words. Alana shivered and retreated again into the stinky stall.
“It’s okay, that’s my dog, my īlio. She on our side, Alana.” Tee drew close to the locked bathroom door and pressed her ear to the panel. Muted shouts from the driver and the redheaded woman made her smile. Karma wouldn’t do their bidding.
She turned back to the child. “How long have you been here? Momma Ruth bring you here, child? You the only one? All Hawaiian girls?”
Alana shrugged. “Boys, girls, from many places. We come, then we go. Boss teach what t’do, so mens come pick ones they want. Some go ‘way, never come back. Boss say I’m for special someone.” She shuddered, knowing what that meant. Her little hands flitted like hummingbirds to smooth waist-length hair.
Tee’s stomach clenched, and for a moment, her vision tunneled. She pinched her bare thigh, and the stinky surroundings returned to focus. “Who da boss?” Couldn’t be the muscle man who drove her here. “Big man? Small man?” Hell, anyone would be big from this girl’s viewpoint. “He haole, or maybe Hawaiian? What he like?” She fell into pidgin to better connect with Alana.
But Alana’s lips pressed tight. “I no tell, or Boss gi’ me to Tony.” She shuddered.
“Tony, he work fo’ Boss?” Must be the driver. “What about Momma Ruth, she treat you good?”
Alana burst into tears.
Tee moved to hug the child, despite her hobbled hands. But Alana shrank away, leery of any touch.
She’d pressed too much. Alana knew few details anyway, no more than Mele had known. But this place looked deserted. Boss must be planning to move on soon, if only a single child remained in their sick inventory. Why, then, had they taken the bait she’d set up with Momma Ruth?
Momma Ruth had answers. And so did the mysterious Boss. They’d be more willing to gloat and share incriminating info in front of her, the merchandise. Play the part, and meet the Boss.
Tee returned to the locked door and banged so hard on it the plywood cracked. Given time, she could break through the shabby patched barrier. For now, though, everything she did should prime her captors to talk. Momma Ruth drew a hard line about revealing details, and only agreed to get Tee inside to find out firsthand. Tee wanted the Boss and everyone else involved put away for good. Combs and his team needed to hang back so nobody ran too soon, before she got the info needed to put them all away.
She banged on the door again. “Hey! Let me outta here. You got no right t’keep me. Hey! You talk t’me, what you doin’ here. An’ leave īlio—my dog alone. Hey there, hear me? Hey! Hey! What you doin’ here anyways?” She banged again and again until her fist bruised. She’d wear them down. They had to answer eventually.
***
Outside, beneath the porch of the tacky building, Karma lay in the dirt. She chewed the rope tether that kept her confined. She heard Tee’s muffled voice, a clarion call for a good-dog to protect. She’d been trained to serve those she loved and respected, and Tee was chosen family. Her girl was in danger! Karma whined, and redoubled her efforts, pulling against the strong rope to test progress.
A strident mewling made her ears twitch, and she twisted around to look. Something stirred in the far reaches of the makeshift shelter. Despite the crazy rooster crowing that hurt a good-dog’s ears, and dusty-feather smells of stale nests and dead critters, this life-affirming sound made Karma’s stubby tail wiggle despite other worries.
She stretched her broad neck as far as she could reach, and whined low, low in her throat to keep from scaring the creature. Karma wrinkled her muzzle in the effort to sift scents and find this one’s signature odor amid the multitude of smells. She whined again, detecting the unmistakable stink of decay. Others hadn’t survived.
But this baby toddled closer, questing with tiny pink nose, mouth agape with ever more strident cries. With a low woof, Karma scooted nearer until able to grasp it by its blond scruff. She settled the three-week-old baby next to her tummy beside lamb-toy, and set about washing it nose to tail. She stiffened with surprise when it purred and latched onto her nipple, and then she relaxed. For a moment, as the kitten nursed, Karma sank into a peaceful doze.
Then a mechanical sound, something no human ear could detect, vibrated deep inside lamb-toy. Karma paused, tipping her head, and nudged the stuffed toy with one paw.
“Hello? Hello? Where the hell are you, Tee, and what have you done with my dog?”
