Page 14 of Wild Temple (Tyson Wild Thriller #84)

" J ack Donovan!" Rex exclaimed as we stepped into Whisky Tango Foxtrot.

We approached the counter, and the two shook hands.

"Still raising hell?" Rex asked.

"And then some," JD replied with a grin.

"I gotta be honest. I never expected to see the two of you standing in my bar.”

Jack smiled. "Living proof that dreams do come true."

Rex scoffed. “More like nightmares.” His eyes fell upon Brooke. She was hard not to look at. "And to whom do I have the pleasure?" he said, extending his hand, instantly smitten.

I made introductions.

"She's welcome anytime." Rex's eyes flicked between the two of us. "The jury is out on you two. ”

We laughed. He wasn't entirely joking.

"I'm afraid I’ve got more bad news," I said.

Rex grimaced. He was at his limit of bad news from me.

I filled him in on Brooke’s situation. A solemn frown tugged Rex's face. "I'm really sorry to hear that."

"I sure am hoping you've got something helpful to tell me.”

Rex frowned again and shook his head. "I wish I had something to tell you. I reached out to my contacts, but everyone's being tight-lipped. These aren’t the kind of people you want angry at you. I'll keep trying to find something out. But I’ve got to be careful.”

I thanked him for the effort, though I'm not sure how much effort he applied.

It was clear Rex didn't want to have a damn thing to do with this.

I could understand. As a businessman, he'd put down roots here.

This wasn't the kind of place where you wanted to piss off the local syndicate or the cops. They had six ways from Sunday to make your life miserable. If you weren’t careful, you might find your bar burned to the ground—and that's if you were lucky.

People who buck the system around here often ended up in a shallow grave in the jungle.

A set of bones could go undiscovered for centuries in a place like this.

When I knew Rex, he wasn't scared of anything. He was always the first one into the fray. But he couldn't hide the fear in his eyes now. He knew something more than he was letting on .

He offered us a drink, and we took a seat at the bar. We sipped fine whiskey and talked about the good old days. We relived old missions and talked about guys in the unit, mourning those we lost. Rex was happy to talk about anything else but human trafficking.

Rex plied us with liquor. The early afternoon slipped into the late afternoon. By that time, we'd all indulged a little more than we should have. But it was good to catch up. I think Rex took a liking to Brooke. Who wouldn't? Maybe he'd be more inclined to help.

"If you run into Bayu or Putu, let me know,” I said.

Rex laughed. "You know how many guys on this island share that same name? Good luck.”

He had a point.

I tried to pay for the drinks, but he wouldn't take the money.

We said our goodbyes and stepped out onto the sidewalk, the amber sun plunging toward the horizon. We started the trek back toward the Bamboo Lofts, weaving through tourists who were just setting out for the evening to catch dinner and hit clubs later.

We'd all worked up a bit of an appetite and figured we ought to get some food in our bellies. JD and I planned on hitting the bars and clubs in the evening, hoping to bump into the two kidnappers or someone who knew them. If they were operating out of this area, someone would recognize them.

I looked at my watch. In a few hours from now, the sketch artist would be on shift at the department. Hopefully, with a phone call or videoconference, we could hammer out a sketch of the perps .

We grabbed dinner at Gecko and started with the firecracker shrimp—grilled shrimp with a chili-lime sauce. It was a breezy, upscale place with a view of the ocean and a large outdoor terrace. A great place to kick back in the evening with a cocktail and a meal.

I ordered the pad thai, and Jack went with the volcano burger.

Brooke opted for the braised pork ribs with coconut curry and sticky rice.

We filled our bellies, tossed around theories, and made plans of action.

At this point, we were just stabbing in the dark, hoping to blindly stumble across a lead.

After dinner, we staggered back to the hotel and caught a quick power nap before hitting the bars. I figured Nomad would be as good a place as any to start the hunt. But Bayu would have to be pretty stupid to go back there.