Dark Vengeance Kristi Belcamino (read me a book .txt) 📖

came over, and I asked her if she spoke English. She gave me a blank look, so I pointed at the items I wanted. As I paid, I asked about X. Even though she didn’t seem to speak English, I repeated his name several times and watched closely for any reaction to his name. She didn’t react at all and continued bagging my purchases.

“Do you know him?”

She didn’t look up at me, instead avoiding my eyes, but I did see a small frown cross her face. She went into a back room before I walked out the front door.

Outside, there was an old man sitting on a bench. He wore baggy trousers, stained tan work boots, and, despite the morning heat, a flannel shirt.

He looked up at me and smiled so I stopped and asked him.

“I’m looking for X. Do you know where he lives?”

The man spit his chewing tobacco on the ground and scowled.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

He fluffed out a newspaper and put it in front of his face. Conversation over, I guessed.

I walked over to the garage. The roll-up door was open, and I could see the legs of a mechanic sticking out from under an old Chrysler.

“Excuse me?” I said.

The man scooted out. “Good morning,” he said back in English.

He looked to be in his thirties. He had cropped auburn hair, beefy hands, and a ready smile. He wiped his hands on a rag and then on his jeans.

I smiled back. I gestured to the bags in my hands and said, “I’m looking for a ride back to the surf camp north of here. Do you have taxis or anything around here?”

I figured I’d lead with the innocuous questions first.

“Not anymore. We did have a company but after all the taxis were stolen, he decided to find a new job.”

“All of them? Do they know who took them?”

The man scratched his head. “Well, I have my suspicions, but …”

“Let me guess … he who shall not be named?”

The guy laughed. “Yeah. That guy.”

Then he frowned. “You been asking around about him?”

“Yeah. I want to find out where he lives, but if I bring up his name, everybody acts like they are deaf. You going to do that, too?”

He stared at me for a second and then jammed his fists into the front pockets of his jeans and sighed. “It’s just that the last person who came around asking ended up strung from a tree outside town.”

He looked down and cleared his throat before continuing. “We heard his wife and daughters back in the states were raped.”

Holy fuck. I nearly spoke the words out loud.

“Just for asking, huh?”

“He might’ve done more than that. I think he was digging around, had something on X that ended up being his death sentence. The owner of the taxi company made the mistake of taking this guy to X’s house.”

“Who was this guy? The one digging around?”

The man shrugged. “Not sure, but the rumor was some type of private investigator.”

I thought about that for a second.

Like everyone else on the island, X was here hiding from something. Something worth killing for.

“I think he has something to do with my daughter disappearing. I need to find him.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you. I got a wife and baby at home.” He looked around outside the garage. “I’m probably being stupid even talking to you. You don’t have a car for me to work on and we’ve been talking a while. It’s already pretty damn suspicious.”

“Like I said, I need some wheels. Can you sell me some?” I said, looking around the garage. There was another car with a car cover over it.

He saw my gaze. “Storing that for someone. Sorry. But I have an idea.”

He walked out of the dark garage. I followed him. He headed around the back. There was a woodpile and a small shed. He unlocked the shed.

“Hold on,” he said. He disappeared inside and then emerged, wheeling a small motorcycle. It wouldn’t hold a candle to my old bike in San Francisco. It probably wouldn’t outrun a cow. But it was better than walking.

“I could have her running in an hour if you can wait around.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred dollars.”

“Deal.”

He smiled. “Good. Gives me a good reason to be talking to you.”

After he wheeled the bike into the garage, I headed toward a small hill on the main street and sat in the grass. I pulled out what I’d bought at the market—beef satay sticks, a vegetable and coconut salad, and some rice wrapped in banana leaves—and had a small picnic. As I chewed, I tried to figure out a way to get the mechanic to tell me where X lived.

Later, when I paid him and picked up the bike, he turned to me and said, “You know if you ride this straight over to X’s house, they are going to assume I told you where he lived. You might as well put a target on my back.”

“I don’t know where he lives.”

“There might be a piece of paper taped to the inside of the seat once you lift it. I’m not sure how it got there,” he said with a smile. “But I’m going to need about forty-eight hours for suspicion to not fall on me.”

“That’s a long time.”

He shrugged. “No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.”

“I’ll wait. Unless I know my daughter’s life is in danger and then I’m sorry. But if it goes as I plan, he won’t be able to hurt anyone else ever again.”

“Your kid, huh? You don’t look much older than her.”

“I’m the closest thing she has to a mother—or parent of any type.”

He looked down and then turned away. “The less I know the better.”

“Probably right.”

I started the bike and hopped on. It purred under me. I was so excited to have transportation again.

I waited until I was out of town and then pulled over to the side of the road. I checked under the seat and found the paper