Chapter Nineteen“It doesn't look like anyone's inside,” Linda stated with a creased brow.
Rey and I murmured agreement as we sat in the Jeep before Bizz Waxx's large nondescript Halawa studio, just off Iwaena. A narrow bin-filled laneway curved around the right and a shoddy-looking real estate office with broken signage was situated ten yards to the left. Dim lighting lent a film noir milieu to the closed shops and businesses stretching along a street devoid of people and traffic.
“Maybe he's got an exhibit,” Rey suggested.
“He'd said he had one in two weeks, which would make it this coming weekend,” Linda clarified. “But he may be attending one.”
“Or he could be out with buddies,” I submitted.
Rey leaned so far forward, she was halfway between Linda and me. “It's weird that he hasn't
