Hogtied: Mingo McCloud, #7

by AJ Llewellyn

  Behind the three businesses was a huge complex filled with more restaurants, a dentist’s office, massage parlor, kung fu studio, and a plethora of parked cars.

  We parked on the street in a loading zone and walked through the parking lot searching for Leilani’s red Volkswagen Beetle. She’d bought it only a few weeks ago and had it custom painted. No sign of Leilani, Debbie, or what Leilani called her “cherry bomb.”

  Francois checked his cell phone tracker. “Her phone’s still here.” He frowned. I hated when he frowned. He had a black bag in his grip, the kind doctors use. Although I always thought of him as Mary Poppins and her magic carpet bag because he could produce all kinds of electronic gizmos from it as if by osmosis.

  As we covered the entire lot on foot, he held his cell phone with his free hand. I glanced around his arm and saw a glowing red dot on his screen. Francois, who was a security expert, had all kinds of gadgets and tools at his disposal. He glanced at me.

  “Are you still using Find My Friends?” I asked.

  “Yes. Find My Friends puts her at this location. She doesn’t appear to have moved, but I don’t have anything more definitive than this street address.” He retrieved a small black remote control from his bag. He pressed some keys into the unit and waited.

  “That thing you’re holding…does it give you a precise location?”

  A small, secretive smile. “Oh, yes. I developed this app myself.” He wiggled his brows then suddenly turned on his heel. I followed, trotting to keep up with him. We moved past rows of parked cars to a small alleyway tucked into the side of the sushi bar. Delivery trucks loitered, one of them obscuring a vehicle behind it. Francois ran, and there was the red VW, parked under a tree. I looked around. I couldn’t see any security cameras anywhere. Ah. There was one outside the bar. I hoped it had a view of the area where we stood.

  “She must have left the car there to give Debbie some shade while she shopped.” I panted with the effort of keeping pace with my long-legged lover.

  “Dear God. The dog is still in there.” Francois raced to the vehicle. All the windows were closed. I tried all the door handles as Francois reached into his bag of tricks again.

  Debbie was huddled on the floor. Francois’s expression turned grim. “Leilani would never have done this unless she was forced to leave her in there.” He used a “Slim Jim” to pop the lock on the backdoor. Debbie raised her head. Her mouth hung open and she panted hard but seemed okay.

  “Tongue’s still pink,” I muttered. “Thank God.”

  As he popped open the door, she tumbled out of the vehicle, and into Francois’s arms, her body moist and hot. People came running. I spotted Benny’s cousin, Vitoria, who owned Hissy Fit. She had a bottle of water in her hands. Debbie’s tongue lolled out of her mouth. I was thankful that the weather had been cool enough that Debbie had survived. Vitoria handed me a plastic cup and I held it as she poured water into it. Debbie lapped at the liquid; her expression agonized. She drank and coughed, then drank some more. I poured a little bit of the water onto her fur to cool her down.

  Somebody else had the same idea. A man soaked her feet with water. “If her feet are cool, she’ll stay cool,” he told me.

  “Good to know. Thanks.” I smiled at him but as Debbie’s breath came in short, harsh bursts, I worried about Leilani. Where was she?

  Francois nudged me. “Her phone’s here. It was under the front seat. She would never leave it behind.” He gave me a significant look. We both knew what he wasn’t going to say in front of all these strangers. Unless she was forced to leave it behind.

  He stared at me. “She recorded some of the conversation. Some guy offered her a donut, and she took it. Something went wrong. She threw it out of the window.” He looked around. “It has to be here somewhere. The footage gets weird after that. A lot of teeth and shoes.”

  “There’s a camera up on the sushi bar’s wall,” I said.

  “Gotcha.” He wiped his brow. It was starting to get hot now. So much for winter weather on Oahu. We’d found Debbie just in time.

  “Why you leave ‘um in car?” A woman brandished a fearsome looking fist at me.

  “I didn’t. It’s our friend’s dog. And our friend is missing.”

  “Amma call da cops!” somebody else shouted.

  “He’s a cop.” I pointed to Francois. He wasn’t, but he oozed the kind of authority that made people shut up and take notice. He hadn’t served his country in various branches of the military for nothing. People calmed down as he looked at each of them in turn.

  “It’s okay, folks, the dog is safe. Did anyone see this lady?” He brandished his cell phone, and everyone took a good, hard look at the photo of our lovely friend that he’d pulled up from her Facebook page. Nobody had seen Leilani.

  “I’ll share it on Facebook and Instagram!” people started saying. Francois handed out his business card and people shouted and shoved to get a look at Leilani. He forwarded her photo to many cell phone numbers—people finally moving on, tapping away at their phones.

  “The new style of policing,” Francois said as Vitoria knelt beside Debbie, who now lay on her back wanting a belly rub.

  “Yeah.” It was an amazing thing how social media had become a useful tool for cops. I took Vitoria aside and asked, “I see that the sushi bar has security cameras. Do you have cameras facing this alleyway?”

  “No. But theirs should cover it.”

  Francois gave her an odd look but didn’t say anything.

  Vitoria brushed a strand of hair from her face. “What do you think happened to your friend?” Vitoria was a pretty, glossy-haired, Brazilian woman who had been adopted at birth by Benny’s favorite aunt but had grown up on the mainland. Since she’d moved to Honolulu with her husband and son, Benny had turned into super-cousin. He’d funded her bakery, helped her pick out the name and oh, lordy, the scent of freshly baked cake wafted on the breeze toward me.

  “Do you know this guy?” Francois thrust Leilani’s cell phone toward her.

  “No,” she said, but Vitoria seemed nervous and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Francois called my mom. He turned away from Vitoria and spoke fast. I couldn’t hear him, which annoyed me. I had a pathological dislike of being left out of the loop on anything. He turned back to me. “Right, Mingo, we’ve got work to do.”

  “What about Debbie?”

  “I just let Mom and Mele know she’s okay. Debbie can hang out with us.”

  Debbie seemed to understand. She rolled to her feet and stood, looking better than she had a few minutes ago. Guide dogs, even the worst ones, were a hardy breed of animal. Francois reached into the VW and grabbed her leash. Clipping it to her collar, he strode forward, Debbie’s tail wagging in her typical, joyful way as we passed Vitoria and moved toward the sushi bar.

  Vitoria followed us. “What about your wedding cake? It’s still here.”

  “We’ll stick it in the trunk,” Francois told her. “Just give us a few minutes, okay?”

  “In the trunk?” Her face turned ashen. “That’s my best wedding cake.”

  “We’ve got a cargo hold. Huge,” Francois said.

  “You are not putting it in a trunk. And it’s not going in the car with that dog.” She pointed to a panting Debbie.

  Francois and I looked at each other. His face took on a dangerous shade of red. I feared he was having a heart attack. I’d never seen him so unglued. I put a hand to his chest and found his heartbeat racing like crazy.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “Please. Take a deep breath.”

  Vitoria turned when voices called out to her. “I’ll be in the shop,” she said over her shoulder. “Do not bring the dog with you.”

  Poor Debbie cowered, leaning into my legs for support. I stroked her flank, surprised by how hard she shook. Whether it was Vitoria’s words or her tone that affected her, Vitoria had upset her. Badly.

  “I don’t believe Leilani never made it inside. I bet she went in with the dog and Vi
toria threw her out.” Francois had never looked so angry. “Something happened in there. She left. Then the donut guy showed up.” He frowned at his cell phone screen and punched in some keys. “I’ve left messages for the owners of the sushi bar telling them we need access to their security footage. Wish they’d call me back.”

  “How do you know their number?” I was always surprised by who and what Francois knew.

  “They’re my clients. That’s my camera up on their wall.”

  “Do you have access to their footage? You know, maybe in cloud storage?”

  He looked at me in total shock. “Mingo. I love you. Sometimes you surprise me.” He started muttering to himself. “Maybe it’s not entirely legal, but it’s an emergency.” He rifled through his phone and his secret little remote, then sprang toward me and dropped a swift kiss on my lips, making Debbie bark. Francois stepped back again. “You too,” he said, bending toward the dog, who gave him a loving lick from chin to nose tip.

  Francois began tapping away at his cell phone again. I stood, waiting.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to see the cake at least?” I asked. We’d worked so hard on designing it, and we’d spent a lot of time taste-testing Vitoria’s samples. Not to mention the whopping two grand we’d spent on the finished product.

  “We could take turns,” he suggested, and we moved toward the store. I held Debbie’s leash while Francois went inside. A crowd had gathered around something, and I almost choked when Francois pushed his way through the throng. People parted like the Red Sea, and Debbie and I sidled right up to the window. My mouth fell open and I stared at our beautiful wedding cake. I knew it was ours because we’d created it. Both of us being island men, we wanted a real representation of our lives and love. A huge volcano made of white champagne cake and filled with liliko’i curd featured champagne meringue icing dusted with dark raspberry sauce running down the sides. It really looked like a volcanic explosion.

  Colorful flowers, birds, cats, and maile lei all made of sugar decorated the rest of the three-tiered cake. The bottom tier beside the volcano was also made of white cake, layered with Chantilly cream and slathered with coconut buttercream icing.

  The second tier’s orange blossom cake was filled with lemon curd and topped with tangerine buttercream icing. The orange tint was pale and soothing. The top tier took my breath away. Made of chocolate hazelnut cake, it was layered with pineapple cream and topped with a pineapple buttercream icing whipped into peaks of red and deep orange. We had asked for the raspberry “explosion” to run from the volcano to the base of the three tiers.

  Out of the top of the brightly hued icing peaks stood two plastic men. One black, one white. They held hands and looked so happy; I knew I would keep those cake toppers for the rest of my life. Vitoria had outdone herself. I’d seen the cake under construction, and she’d sent us photos of the completed project, but nothing did justice to what I saw before me.

  My cell phone rang. A text from Francois. She won’t let us have the cake.

  I texted back, What?

  She said she can’t sell it to us.

  But we already paid her for it, I reminded him.

  She says she’ll give us a refund. Get the car. Now.

  I turned on my heel and headed toward our SUV. Cripes. Where was the damned thing? I fumbled through my phone with my free hand. I didn’t have the Find My Friends app. I was so stressed out I couldn’t even find my own car!

  My key ring had an alarm on it. I could use it to track the vehicle. I pressed the red button and the car beeped back. Ah. There it is. In the loading zone on the street. No parking ticket. Phew. I stuck Debbie in the passenger seat beside me and careened toward the shop. Several cars were parked in the angled stalls right out front of the bakery. I zoomed into the free handicapped space, hoping I wouldn’t get a ticket or a kick in the head from a genuinely disabled person.

  Seconds later, Francois and two other guys came running out with our cake. Man, it looked heavy. I popped the lock on the cargo hold, and they shoved it inside.

  “Thanks!” Francois yelped, and the guys waved back. I recognized one of them. From where? He was a client. I remembered now. I’d saved his bacon and his ass. A happy customer. I should have him bronzed. Francois slammed the back window shut, and I winced when I saw white icing smeared on the glass.

  Francois ran to the passenger seat, and I glimpsed a bunch of people trying to hold back Vitoria at the shop entrance. Francois saw Debbie and pointed to the backseat. She hopped right over, and Francois got in beside me.

  Vitoria came toward us yelling something, and Francois screamed, “Drive!”

  I put the SUV into gear, and it lurched forward. People jumped out of the way and I reversed the hell out of there as Francois asked, “What is Debbie eating?”

  ***

  “Why is your beautiful cake all smooshed?” Mom asked when we got home.

  “Cyclone Debbie,” I muttered.

  “You should have called me. I would have come and picked her up.” Mom inspected the cake. “Oh, Mingo, it’s lovely.” A beat. “In parts.” Her face glowed. Mele staggered outside and made a wobbly beeline for us.

  “What’s the matter with her, Mom?”

  “That’s what ten milligrams of Valium will do to you. Actually, twenty. She wouldn’t stop blubbering, so I gave her a second dose.”

  “My God! That’s enough Valium to tranquilize a horse.” I gaped at Mele as she stopped beside Mom, a bewildered expression on her face.

  “Where’s my wife?” Mele sniffled, swaying like a bandana in the wind. Had she been wearing pearls, I’m sure she would have been clutching them.

  “We’re going to find her,” Francois promised. He and Ferric carried the cake into the kitchen. As they moved forward, every cat in the house darted in front of them. They almost dropped it twice.

  Once they were safely inside, I let Debbie out of the car.

  “Hi, baby.” Mele smiled at Debbie who pranced around with abandoned joy. She threw herself at Mele who fell on her knees, wrapping herself around Debbie.

  Mele lifted a tear-stained face up to me. “That’s one baby back, where’s my other one?”

  I winced. “I don’t know.”

  “Where did you find Debs?”

  “Um. Ah. In your car.”

  “And where’s the car?”

  “Outside the bakery.”

  Mele frowned. “But Vitoria said Leilani never made it there.”

  Francois came back outside, fuming. “Vitoria lied. I almost have proof. But don’t you worry. Like I said, we’ll find our girl.” He flicked a glance at me. “There are bite marks all over our volcano.”

  I was indignant. “Don’t look at me.”

  Francois shook his head. “No, darling. It was her.” He gave a withering glance at Debbie who was the only being in the world that wasn’t afraid of Francois. She looked up at him all cute and smiley. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she crawled to him on all fours and flopped over on her back awaiting a belly rub. I wondered if it would work for me if I tried that trick.

  “What a ham.” Francois chuckled in spite of himself. He knelt to pet the dog who wriggled around with pleasure. I knew just how she felt. Francois had that affect on me, too.

  Mele let out a sigh. “I feel bad about the cake. I can smooth over the icing, so nobody would ever know.”

  “I’m not worried,” Mom said, waving a bread knife around. “We’ll just tell people it’s a representation of Kilauea Volcano after its recent eruption.”

  I stared at her. “Brilliant!”

  Francois glanced up at her, and she went on. “Dogs’ saliva is actually not harmful, but I’m sure your guests would prefer not to know that she took a chomp out of it.” When neither of us responded, she said, with an air of desperation, “I won’t say anything if you don’t.”

  “Okay,” I said. The tension between her and Francois was killing me.

  His cell phone rang, and he checked the screen. “
We gotta go.” He got to his feet. “Mele, don’t let anybody from the bakery in. Especially Vitoria.”

  Mele looked stricken. “Isn’t she on the guest list?”

  Francois glowered. “Not anymore. She tried to hold on to our cake. And we’ve paid for it!”

  “Oh, no.” Mele’s eyes widened. “Wait. You think Leilani went there and she refused to give it to her?”

  Boy, she’s sharp.

  “I’ll know in two minutes. In the meantime, Mingo and I are heading back out there. One of us will bring your car back.”

  “And Leilani, too, right?” Mele looked pale.

  “And her, too.” Francois sounded so confident, it lifted my spirits.

  We took off, Debbie barking at us. She hated being left out of anything. Just like me. Must have been the guide dog instinct. Maybe I’d missed my true calling. Debbie’s barking grew more frantic. If one of us had been her charge, she would have accompanied us even to the mailbox. Francois and I got back in the SUV, which now smelled delicious.

  “It’s the champagne buttercream frosting,” Francois said, after an appreciative sniff. He reached back and swiped a little from the window and licked his fingertips.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “What did you find out?”

  He started the engine and pulled a face. “I was able to override the code to the sushi bar’s footage. I set up their surveillance system and it comes with a six-month free personal protection service from me.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “So, I can access their footage. We’re going to have to go through their video for the last six hours. Vitoria has the service too. Benny paid for it. She’s never activated the free protection service and I hope she hasn’t wiped it since we left the bakery.”

  “Would she be that smart? And that…sneaky?”

  “I don’t know. I’m wondering why she wanted to back out of giving us our wedding cake. It can’t be because we’re gay. She’s always known it. Besides, Benny’s gay, too. And he’s bringing his boyfriend to the wedding.”

  I thought for a moment. “Can I access the sushi bar’s video while you’re driving?”