Birds in Paradise Read Online Free Page A

the pavement, I could probably win a few paying clients for my private investigator service by the end of the week. No more Ms. Nice Girl. All new clients would have to be able to pay. Up front.
    Which brought me back to the missing Tina. Anna, her sister, had no way to pay me, but I couldn’t give up on either of them. Even though all my efforts had so far led to dead ends, I couldn’t help feel that I was getting close to uncovering the truth. Go ahead. Call me an eternal optimist. Delusional, even. I don’t mind. My gut was humming like it always did right before I stumbled on some important clue. I slapped my cheeks. I needed to be alert and ready for anything. Clues rarely dropped from the sky. A person could run in circles in a forest for days and never find her way out. It took careful observation and planning to find whatever was out there waiting to be found.
    I sat down on a bench and gazed out over the bright blue ocean. A breeze played in the palms all around me while dolphins danced in the waves. Seeing them, I relaxed and started to sort through what I’d learned so far.
    Four women missing. All prostitutes. All young. All new. The prostitutes on the street were scared. And business was slow. The police were tightening their fist and, according to the women I’d talked to, were arresting dozens a night.
    Add to that, Mr. Fu’s strange behavior. He’d refused to see me. Why? My instincts prickling, I couldn’t help but think that there had to be a connection. But what?
    “You look as if you haven’t slept in a week,” a friendly voice said, and pushed a cup of coffee into my hand.
    “Hello Brandi,” I said, as the bleached blonde settled down on the bench beside me and lit a cigarette. “My soul doesn’t need saving, at least not this morning.”
    Brandi laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound. Sexy. I could see why she’d been popular among her clients. “I assure you that you’re wrong. Your soul is crying out for someone to find you. Unlike the girls peddling their bodies, you’re much more complex and troubled.”
    “Wow, Brandi, you can see all that just by looking at me?” I forced a bitter laugh. She was getting too personal. And after what happened between Pete and me this morning, I wasn’t feeling strong enough to do any deep soul-searching. So I struck out at her instead. “No wonder you spent more time on your back than walking the streets.”
    “I’ve been watching you for years now. I know you’ve been struggling.” She flicked away some ashes before patting my leg. “But you’re a good girl, so I won’t give you a sermon.”
    “Thanks.” I sipped the coffee she’d handed me. It was rich and filled with flavors. “Kona coffee,” I said, impressed that she’d spend her money on me.
    “Only the best,” she said as she stared out over the ocean. “It’s beautiful here. Paradise. People come from all over the world with high expectations, don’t they?”
    I nodded. I’d stayed in Oahu, despite my empty pockets, because I’d fallen in love with the land, the people, and their relaxed pace. Both my parents were overachievers. Type A plus-plus personalities with a shot of espresso added into the mix. They strove to be the best at everything. And since I was their daughter, I was expected to be the best by default. Between the soccer, the girl scouts, the softball, the basketball, the knitting, the theater, the swim team, the debate team, piano lessons, and academic perfection—my childhood had been exhausting.
    But my childhood had taught me one thing—never to give up.
    “What do you think is happening to these women, Brandi?”
    She shrugged and tightened her lips. “I hate to think about it. They’re lost souls, each one of them.”
    “Do you think they’re alive?”
    Brandi shrugged again.
    “I visited Mr. Fu yesterday,” I said, trying to learn something, anything new. “He refused to see me. Have you heard anything about him lately?”
    She chewed on