Part 27 (2/2)
Jack walked through the door; Shawn shook his head. He stood up straight as Jack walked closer. ”She hasn't called or nothing.”
”No one has?” Jack put both hands on the counter as Replacement swung over to his left side.
Shawn gestured to the group and then shrugged. ”n.o.body has seen her. Total radio silence. I'm starting to get a little freaked out.”
Kiku stepped forward. ”Perhaps you can be of some a.s.sistance to me, then.”
Shawn looked her up and down, gulped and then shrugged. ”Sure. How?”
”I do not plan to return to j.a.pan in the foreseeable future but want to add to my Irezumi.” Kiku pulled down the shoulder of her s.h.i.+rt to reveal part of an elaborate tattoo.
Shawn's mouth made a popping sound as it fell open. His hand shot out and hovered just above the skin.
”Is that Tebori? Real Tebori?”
Kiku smiled. ”You know your craft. It is.”
The men at the table moved to get a look at whatever Shawn was so excited about, but Kiku pulled her s.h.i.+rt back up.
”They use bamboo, right?” Shawn's voice rose.
Kiku grinned. ”Sometimes. Mine was done with steel. Do you have a moment to hear my proposition and see?”
”See?” Shawn almost danced from one foot to the other. ”Can I see the whole thing?”
Kiku nodded and looked around.
Shawn hurried over to the curtain to the back rooms and held it open. As Kiku sauntered by him, he looked desperately back at Jack. ”Can you just...tell people I'll be back?”
Jack nodded.
d.a.m.n, she's good.
Replacement leaned over to him and whispered, ”I think he's more excited about seeing her tattoo than seeing her naked.”
Jack followed Kiku with his eyes. ”He's an idiot.”
Replacement stepped on his foot.
Jack winced.
”Oops.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kiku pulled aside the curtain and walked out. Shawn hurried after her, hovering just behind.
”Marisa is the only one who could touch that tat. Seriously.” His shoulders went down, he bent his knees slightly, and his hands went up. ”That's just...wow. I've never seen...that was freakin' unbelievable.”
Kiku nodded. ”Thank you.” She looked at Jack and tilted her head toward the door.
Jack walked over to the exit. ”If she calls, you call me.”
Shawn was already moving toward the guys hanging out at the tables. ”I will. I'll call.” He turned around to his friends. ”She has a real freakin' Tebori. They did it with steel. That's one tough chick but her skin was so perfect...”
Jack headed to the car and grabbed the door for Replacement. She jumped in and turned around to talk to Kiku. ”Nothing?” Replacement frowned.
Kiku shook her head. ”He is very nice but not bright. I doubt he had anything to do with it.”
Jack started the car. He was glad they had ruled out Shawn but, still, it left another place Marisa was not.
Where is she? Who has her?
Replacement, who was still kneeling, put her head down on the seat. ”Are you sure? Just because he's stupid doesn't mean he's a good guy.”
”He is very excitable and went on and on about wanting to start his own tattoo parlor. It was not even his idea. It was his girlfriend's. Marisa gave him a raise last month, and he has practically given up the idea already anyway. It's a dead end.”
Jack gripped the steering wheel.
Poor choice of words.
It could have been worse Jack paced back and forth across the living room floor, regretting ever letting Kiku and Replacement go for some takeout. He stomped into the bedroom and looked at the clock: 6:15 p.m.
Where the h.e.l.l are they?
He plodded back into the living room and dialed Replacement's number. Again, there was no answer; her voicemail kicked on.
They said half an hour.
”When you headed out, you said you were coming right back,” Jack barked into the phone. ”With all the c.r.a.p going on, you'd think you'd give me a flippin' call back.”
Jack almost heaved the phone out the window; instead, the police scanner he left on 24/7 clicked on.
”Car 63?” the dispatcher's voice crackled over the radio.
”Copy,” a man's voice responded.
”We got a 10-70 in progress at 18 Winston.”
”10-4.” CLICK.
Jack stood in the middle of the floor as he gawked at the scanner. He shook his head, angling his ear so it was pointed directly at it, but the scanner was now silent.
10-70. No. There's no way they called a 10-70 at 18 Winston.
As Jack turned to head out the front door, it flew open. Replacement raced through and headed straight for the bathroom. He turned to hurry after her.
”Hey,” he called out.
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