ch9 pg 62-64

SLICK and Mr. Ukulele exchanged looks.
"We don't want to get him in any trouble," Slick said. "First the cop came looking, then you, then the two mokes. We don't know where he is. His girlfriend ain't seen him for a couple of days. We hoped you could tell us what's going on. As in what the hell this is all about."
"Who's his girl?"
Mr. Ukulele spoke up. "Some chick who lives in Kaneohe. Her name's Cindy Kalama. She when call a couple of times looking for him. As in she don't know where he stay either."
Slicks peculiar way of expressing himself was apparently contagious. I put down my glass. "You guys gotta help me. I don't know a whole lot about what's going on. If you guys are his friends, then you of all people should know what he was into. If you came here to try and get some information from me to warn him, it's too late. You know that. He's already in trouble. The best thing you can do for him now is to tell me what he was into and to help me find him. Before the other guys do. Understand."
Slick turned to his friend and mumbled something to him. They nodded to each other and turned to face me. "You no can say who told you this, okay? As in we weren't here."
I nodded.
"You was right. Chucky was running bets. That was small time. He was also dealing. As in drugs."
I raised my eyebrows. "No kidding."
Slick shook his head. "We when try for warn him. We told him he was dealing with Feds and not the local cops. He knew that if he got caught it wasn't just jail, it was going be Federal prison. As in hard time. As in making gravel. As in no parole."
Mr. Ukulele nodded in agreement.
"He never like listen to us. He was too busy making all big shot."
Pearl Harbor was Federal land so the local police had no real jurisdiction there. If you wanted to dance on Federal property, the word Leavenworth had to be in your vocabulary. Most of us obeyed the law to a tee when hanging out on Federal property. There was no such thing as speeding on military bases.
"So who are the two mokes? Chucky making too much money?"
Mr. Ukulele shrugged his large shoulders. "He was banging bets too. Not turning them in. He was losing big time. As in thousands."
Chucky was eating bets. Instead of turning them in to the house, he was holding on to them in hopes the bets would lose. That way he collected the money. The bad part was when the bets won, you had to pay. He must have been using some of the drug money to pay off his losses, or maybe not paying them off at all. If you don't pay for drugs, people come looking for you.
"The best thing you can do for him right now is to help me find him. It sounds like he's in trouble. You better hope we find him before some other less understanding people do. As in being found in the cane fields."
They nodded to me gravely.

My room felt dark and cold as I entered. The howling wind and my windows rattling were the only sounds I heard. I sat down on my couch and watched the rain flood my lanai.
Samantha was in trouble, no doubt about that. How deep she was in, well, that would come out sooner or later. Chucky sounded like he was in so deep he would need a backhoe to dig himself out. Either that or he would have to turn.
Sakama's part in all this made no sense. For someone who had an ongoing investigation, he didn't seem to know much. Greenie was the only one who didn't have anything to worry about, and that was because he was dead.
I sat there and wondered what I had gotten myself into. Charles Royce had been a friend but even friendship has limits. How far would I have to go to get Samantha out of her jam?
I walked over to the sliding doors and looked out over the city. The lights of Waikiki were scattered by the falling rain. My poor little bonsai tree rocked and shook in the wind. I wondered if it would be able to weather the storm.

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