Page 28 of Wild Temple
He gave me a curious look, trying to place my face. It took him a moment, then he smiled. “Yes, yes. Rafi is good. How are you, boss?”
"I’d be doing better if I found my friend," I said.
Rafi’s lecherous eyes flicked to Brooke. "It seems you’ve found a new friend.”
"I have. Sadly, my old friend is still missing."
Rafi frowned. "One must be very careful around here. Lots of hidden dangers."
“How about we go for a drive, Rafi? You can show us all the hot spots.”
The cabby hesitated. “I’m supposed to pick up someone from Nomad.” He paused. “But you are a good customer.” With a smile, he said, “Get in.”
He flicked his cigarette away. It bounced across the sidewalk, and the glowing cherry fell away.
We piled into the back of the van and pulled the doors shut. Rafi climbed behind the wheel and cranked up the engine. He waited for traffic to clear, then pulled onto the roadway. His eyes found me in the rearview. “What are you in the mood for?”
“If I were looking for American girls, where would I go?”
“Nomad is great. Sly Fox. Drift. Have you been to Carousel?”
“Why leave it to chance, Rafi? I want a sure thing.”
Rafi shifted, and his discomfort showed in his eyes. “Nothing in life is guaranteed, my friend.”
The guy was backtracking.
In a stern voice, I said, “You know exactly what I’m looking for, and I want you to take me there now.”
Rafi smiled. “My friend, I think you misunderstand. I?—“
“I understand perfectly,” I said, pulling out my pistol. I was tired of his nonsense.
Brooke gasped.
Rafi’s eyes rounded in the mirror.
“I want you to tell me who’s trafficking girls and where I can find them.” I glared at him.
Rafi smiled in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “That is not necessary, my friend. I will take you where you want to go. Relax.”
“I am relaxed. You’re the one who looks a little nervous.”
Sweat misted Rafi’s brow. His concerned eyes kept flicking to me in the mirror. “Who doesn’t get nervous around guns? You know, the penalties for carrying something like that are?—“
“Save it, Rafi. And don’t get any funny ideas about making a report.”
“Rafi is no snitch. Besides, I won’t have to make a report. You’ll be lucky to survive the night if you keep going down the path you’re headed.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked, amused.
“Oh, no. I threaten no one. But the people you are after… very dangerous. It’s not too late to turn back. We can pretend this never happened.”
“There is no turning back, Rafi. Not until I have what I want.”
Rafi drove us to a nondescript, two-story concrete building. He pulled to the curb and hovered by the narrow alley between another brick building. “There is a black door halfway down the alley. Knock four times. Pause. Then knock twice more. If you’re lucky, they will let you in. There is a onetime membership fee. It’s a private club.”
Rafi listed the ballpark prices in American dollars. For a few hundred, plus the membership, plus the fee for the private room, you could have your pick of girls for a few hours. More for the night. “Americans command a premium. People come to Black Opal from all over the world.” He paused. “If your friend is still on the island, there’s a good chance she is upstairs at the Black Opal.”
