Page 5 of Wild Temple (Tyson Wild Thriller #84)

“ I heard another girl went missing last week,” Jen said.

“From here?” I asked.

“I think she was staying down the block at the Nest. It’s another place for nomads with co-working spaces and nice amenities.”

“Did you know her?”

“No. I’ve just seen the flyers around. We met her boyfriend one night. Poor guy. He’s been looking everywhere for her.”

“Do you recall her name?”

Jen exchanged a look with her companions. “Tatum, I think.”

“What was her boyfriend’s name?” Amy asked.

Jen squinted as she thought about it. “Cory?”

“No,” Alyssa said. “Cody.”

“That’s it,” Jen replied .

“It’s kind of freaky,” Alyssa said. “That’s two blondes in a week. I guess we should be careful,” she said, half joking.

“You all ought to be,” I cautioned.

They didn’t like the sound of that.

“We will,” Jen assured with a flirty smile.

I moved on and found two more lovely ladies to chat with by the pool—teeny bikinis, smooth skin, glistening with oil, flat stomachs. Heavenly.

“I hate to interrupt, but have you seen this woman?” I asked, displaying a photo of Isabella.

The two girls studied the image.

“She looks kind of familiar,” the blonde said. She had a fresh, wholesome face, crystal eyes, pouty lips, and elegant features. She shared a glance with her compatriot.

Her friend said, “No. I don’t recognize her.”

She had wavy chocolate hair that tickled her shoulders, hazel eyes, and golden skin.

“Are you sure about that?”

“We just got in last night,” she replied. “We really haven’t had time to socialize.”

"I'm Tyson, by the way," I said, extending a hand.

The blonde smiled and shook mine. "I'm Brooke. This is Hannah.”

We exchanged pleasantries.

"Where are you from? ”

"Austin,” Brooke said. “What about you?”

"Coconut Key.”

"What's up with your friend?”

"I think she's missing.”

Brooke’s face wrinkled with sadness. "Oh, no!”

"Nobody’s seen her in a week,” I said.

"That’s before our time here," Brooke said. "But I hope you find her.”

"Thank you. What brings you to Tanjung Sur?”

The two girls shared a look.

Then Brooke answered in a cryptic tone. “You know. Just looking for adventure.”

"Well, I think you’ve come to the right place. Just be careful.”

They both surveyed me with cautious eyes.

Hannah asked, "Is it really that dangerous here?”

I shrugged. "Apparently, another girl went missing last week.”

The girls’ faces went long.

"Could be nothing,” I said. “Somebody wanders off and gets lost. Someone decides to go home early. Who knows? But I wouldn’t let your guard down.”

“Good advice," Brooke said.

I handed them both a card and told them to get in touch if they heard anything. "Enjoy your stay in Jatala. ”

"You too,” Brooke said with a smile. “I'm sure we'll see you around.”

I left the hotel and headed over to Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. From the Bamboo Lofts, Rex’s bar was several blocks down Sunset Row.

I figured the walk would do me good. I’d been cooped up on that plane for damn near 24 hours and was ready to move around. It would give me a sense of the local flavor.

The avenue bustled with activity. Cars and mopeds whizzed by, and the smell of exhaust swirled.

The delightful aroma of grilled food wafted.

Everything you needed was within walking distance from the hotels and hostels in the area.

There were American chain coffee shops as well as local eclectic offerings.

Restaurants and bars lined the boulevard, along with clothing boutiques, gyms, yoga studios, Internet cafes, grocery markets, and spas.

Street vendors hustled food, local art, knickknacks, and other trinkets. There were a few buskers, filling the air with music. I stumbled across more than a few hustling Mata Vaya— Water of the Divine .

“Eternal life!” the vendor said. “A small price to pay.”

For roughly $5 USD, the dirty yellow water in the mason jar wouldn’t do anything but extend your time on the toilet. This wasn’t the kind of place where you wanted to drink tap water or eat local ice. Not if you didn’t want to set off World War III in your small intestines.

I walked past tourists and beggars as the sun angled toward the horizon. I figured the boulevard would get raucous after sundown. The bars typically closed around 2:00 AM, but some stayed open beyond that.

I soaked up all the details, keeping an eye out for Isabella on the random chance she was just wandering around the city.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot was an overgrown driftwood shack surrounded by a bamboo fence. It wasn’t much to look at. There were tables and chairs in the courtyard. The sound of pool balls clacking greeted me as I stepped inside.

Southern rock spilled from the jukebox, and the walls were adorned with photos of Navy ships, sailors, and bits of Americana—road signs, old license plates, and neon logos of American beer.

At this time of day, it wasn’t very crowded.

Rex poured a draft beer from behind the bar and slid it across the counter to a customer.

He was a rough and tumble kind of guy with short, reddish brown hair, a bushy beard, and bulging biceps, sleeved in tattoos.

He wore a faded black concert T-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

I hadn’t seen Rex in years, but he looked pretty much the same. Just a little older, like we all did.

I ambled up to the bar and leaned against the counter, waiting for him to catch sight of me.

“Be with you in a minute,” he said without looking.

Rex collected cash from the patron, then headed my way. It took him a second to recognize me. “Holy shit! Tyson Wild. How the hell are you?”

We clasped hands like brothers and grinned.

“I’m fantastic. You? ”

“Can’t complain.”

“Nice place you got here,” I said.

“Living the dream,” he said, stretching his arms wide. “What brings you to this part of the world?”

My face tightened. “I’m afraid it’s not good.”

His cautious eyes narrowed. “Goddamn, Wild. What kind of trouble are you bringing my way?”

“No trouble.”

“I am not going back. You hear me? I’m not doing that shit anymore. They can suck my big fat dick.”

I laughed. “Relax. It’s nothing like that.”

He leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone. “Are you still a spook?”

“No.”

“No?” he said, full of doubt. “I guess you couldn’t tell me if you were.”

“I’m out of the game. Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“I’m looking for a friend. She went missing.”

I gave him the details, then showed him a picture of Isabella. “You seen her around recently?”

“No, but she’s cute. Who is she? Girlfriend?”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed again. “So, she’s a spook? ”

“I can’t go into detail.”

Rex just shook his head. “Look, I don’t want any part of that. My life is simple right now, and I want it to stay that way. I’m done killing. I’m not a gun for hire anymore.”

“I’m not asking you to get involved. I just need a little intel, and maybe some supplies.”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know. And I don’t have the kind of contacts that can get you what you need.”

I knew better. Rex was dialed in. He was the kind of guy who could get his hands on just about anything. He hadn’t always been on the straight and narrow. For all I knew, he wasn’t.

Rex looked around to make sure none of his customers needed anything.

Then he whispered, “I’m sorry about your friend.

Girls go missing around here all the time.

They come out here with their heads up their asses, thinking they’re going to be some kind of influencer or the next tech billionaire.

But they’ve got no clue. There’s a bad element around these parts—drugs, human trafficking, you name it.

This place is a hub for the Golden Triangle.

Heroin moves through here like candy. You get on the wrong side of these people, you’re gonna get yourself unalived .

Plenty of places to dump a body around here.

A corpse could rot in the jungle for an eon before anyone found it.

And don’t bother going to the police. They’re all on the take. ”

I didn’t like what he had to say, but it didn’t come as a surprise.

“I don’t know what your friend was doing here, but if she got on someone’s bad side, she’s either dead or trafficked. She’s a good-looking woman. Granted, these traffickers like ‘em young and fresh. But your friend would command a certain value. American girls are always in demand.”

“See, you’re more helpful than you realize.”

“Where’s Jack?”

“He’s on his way.”

Rex took a breath. “I’ll ask around, see if anybody knows anything. But I don’t want to make waves. I gotta live in this town. It’s best if I don’t ruffle feathers.”

“You were always good about ruffling feathers.”

“So were you.”

I smiled. “Still am.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I hate to ask, but all this talk has made me feel unsafe,” I said in jest. “You know where I might be able to find some personal protection?”