by Anne R. Tan
“There’s not much to say. She threw herself off the balcony in the 1920s when she was jilted at the altar. After that, the house went through several owners, each of them owning the place for a year or two. That’s how we got this house at a bargain price in the mid-sixties.”
“I don’t feel any disturbance here.” Joley pulled out the Chinese compass and watched the whirling magnetic needle. “But something is not quite right. Let’s go upstairs.”
“What were you doing at Uncle Martin’s house after eleven o’clock the evening before his death?” Raina asked, cutting in before the three of them headed upstairs. Forget the plan. Might as well get the confrontation over with.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joley said. Ralf glanced at her, but she ignored him.
“An eyewitness places you at the scene of the crime. Tall, thin, Chinese woman driving a Mini Cooper,” Raina said.
“Could be an unreliable witness. I was nowhere near the Richmond District.”
Po Po’s head swiveled between Raina and Joley during the entire conversation like a Ping-Pong ball bouncing across the net. “Who is your source?”
Raina shrugged. “This person would have told the police about Joley’s appearance at the townhouse by now.” She gave the feng shui master a pointed look. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, but you can expect a visit from the police sometime soon.”
Ralf glanced at Joley. “We have nothing to hide.”
“Then why were you watching me at the restaurant?” Raina asked.
Ralf glanced at Po Po. “Ah…”
“I hired him to keep an eye on you,” her grandma said. “With the Nine Dragons popping up, I thought it was a good idea.”
Fine job he did, Raina thought. She returned her attention to the PI. “Well?”
Joley glanced at Ralf, narrowing her eyes. “Fine. I was there, but it was not what you think. I don’t like talking about my client’s business with other people.”
Raina’s eyes widened. Martin wouldn’t have hired Joley for feng shui because he could take care of it himself. “To do some PI work? Who did he ask you to tail?”
Joley studied her. “You’re too sharp to be wasting your time as a history grad student. Martin was worried about the family business. I’ve been keeping tabs on Hudson for him. Once a week, I came by to give him an update. It was usually late in the evening so there was little chance I would run into his nephew.”
“What do you mean by keeping tabs on Hudson?”
“Exactly that. Following people as they go about their business is part of my business.”
“What did you found out?”
“It was just as Martin suspected. Business is in the toilet because there aren’t that many Chinese families who would trust someone who is half Chinese. It didn’t help that Hudson lived in LA for the last twenty years when he could have used the time to become part of the community.”
“Isn’t that discrimination?” Po Po asked.
“When you’re in the business of dealing with faith and superstition, everything counts. Race, lucky underwear—doesn’t matter. Martin Eng was good enough because he had been in Chinatown for the last forty years. When he retired, his regulars didn’t trust his nephew.” Joley hesitated, glancing at Ralf. “Many of them became my clients, but I didn’t have to solicit their business.”
“Does Hudson have any money?” Raina asked. She hated sounding like Cassie, but if he had no money of his own then he might want an older wealthy woman to take care of him…like her mom.
Except, no one outside the family knew that she was broke, having gone through her trust fund before she was forty. Without Po Po’s generosity, Mom wouldn’t be able to prance around town like she was still a socialite. If not for the money Ah Gong had already set aside for her brother, Raina had no idea how they would pay for his college education.
“What are you trying to say, Rainy? That Hudson killed Martin for his money?” Po Po shook her head. “The idea is just outrageous.”
“This question had to be asked. Just because he’s my mom’s boyfriend doesn’t automatically rule him out,” Raina said. Although she couldn’t see how he could physically murder Martin when he was with her mother the entire evening. She shook the image of the two of them making out at the dining room table in the wee hours of the morning from her mind.
Po Po glared at Raina. “I don’t like where these questions are headed. The boy grew up around my children like he was one of my own. If he had a tendency for violence, I would have known it.”
“Do you have any proof?” Raina blabbered, knowing full well her grandma would think she was being rude to her guest.
“Rain—”
Joley held out her cell phone. “It’s okay, Wong Po Po. Here are the emails we’ve been trading back and forth.”
Raina didn’t even glance at the display. If the ghost whisperer wasn’t lying, then her mom’s future fiancé was as broke as she was. Good grief.
“Martin was afraid his nephew would run the family business to the ground—which is a matter of time. Why do you think Hudson has so much free time to spend with your mom, Raina?” Joley asked.
Good question, but one Raina didn’t have an answer to. Now it looked like she had to add busting up her mom’s relationship on her to-do list.
Her cell phone dinged, indicating a new text message. She pulled it out from her pocket. It was from Smith and he wanted to meet in two hours.
16
Ninja Attack
Joley and Ralf left after doing their magic upstairs, promising to come back if Po Po still felt Weeping May’s presence. While Raina put little stock in the “exorcism,” the guest bathroom was less drafty.
Growing up with her entire community worshiping ancestors and various deities depending on the situation, she had a healthy respect for the supernatural. If nothing else, it never hurt to tread lightly on other people's beliefs.
Raina wanted to ask for advice on how to handle the situation with Hudson and her mom, but Po Po avoided the topic by fiddling with her cell phone. While her grandma was gung ho on every other aspect of her life, she preferred avoidance when it came to familial discord.
They returned to the kitchen to scavenge for lunch. The last person to go grocery shopping was Raina earlier in the week. She sighed at the bare shelves and the limp lettuce.
“Smith wants to meet at the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park,” Raina said, pulling deli lunch meat from the refrigerator. Maybe they should go out for food.
“Why there?” Po Po asked.
“No idea. Maybe he's on duty and it would be less likely for someone to see him inside a paid venue.”
Po Po handed her a keychain with a ball on a string. “Attach it to your keys, Rainy. It might come in handy someday.”
“Is this a good luck charm?”
“No, it’s a weapon of mass destruction.”
Raina eyed the keychain, but attached it to her keys as directed. Granted the string was a heavy corded lanyard and the wrapped ball appeared to have weight to it, but weapon of mass destruction?
“Allow me to demonstrate,” Po Po said, pulling her keys from her pocket. “Give me yours so you can see the two of them working in tandem.”
She handed over her keys.
Po Po got into a self-defense stance, arms up with keys in each hand, the ball keychain dangling at the end. “Now stand back. I don’t want to knock you out by mistake.”
Her grandma took a deep breath. “En garde, you rogue.” She swept her arms from side to side, the balls flying at an alarming angle. She inched forward like she was fencing.
“Careful,” Raina called out, afraid the balls would ricochet against the wall and hit her grandma in the face.
Now Po Po really got into her act, alternating between jabs and punches. The balls bounced in the air like toy nunchucks.
A ball slammed into the lucky cat clock, smashing in the plastic display. It slid off the wall and crashed onto
the tile floor, scattering plastic pieces all over the kitchen. Her grandma tried to stop, but the momentum of her other arm knocked a hole in the drywall where the clock once hung. The silence after the crash could have done a librarian proud.
“Well, I never liked the clock,” Po Po said. “It was from Ah Gong after we got into an argument about tie clips.”
She gave her grandma a sideways glance. “So what is this weapon of mass destruction called?”
“Monkey Fist,” Po Po announced proudly. “It’s to keep my dates from getting too frisky.”
Raina plugged her fingers into her ears. “La-la-la.” She didn’t want to hear about her seventy-five-year-old grandma getting frisky. “Let’s roll. We can grab lunch on the way to the meeting spot.”
As she drove, Raina wondered if she’d embraced the idea of Hudson being a charlatan because she secretly didn’t want her mother’s relationship to work out. As the only girl and baby of the family, her mom could be a tad selfish at times. While Raina’s dad was alive, she kept that side of her under control because of his expectation for a partner in the marriage.
After his death, when she moved the family back into her childhood home, she’d relied on the grandparents to be the parents to the Sun children. And after a decade of book and wine clubs, shopping, and charity events, she’d finally fallen in love again.
If Raina found evidence of Hudson’s financial inaptitude, she would burst this little bubble of happiness. Or maybe it was love, and the lack of money from either party wasn’t an issue. And dan tats could fly.
It was obvious her grandma wanted nothing to do with this drama. A worm on a sidewalk after a rainstorm was more comfortable than the position Raina was in.
They ate in the car and got to the tea garden ten minutes early. For a weekend, the place wasn’t crowded. They could talk to each other without feeling like they had to speak over the person behind them. They had Drum Bridge to themselves for the moment. The high arch wood bridge belonged to a Japanese village in the early 1900s.
Po Po pointed to a bonsai tree next to the five-story pagoda across the pond. “I will be there. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching you the whole time.”
“Okay,” Raina said, dragging the word out. “Or you can just stay here.”
“No, I don’t want Smith to notice me. He might ask me questions. Besides, I can use my binoculars and block my face with a magazine over there.” Po Po strolled off. “Ta-ta,” she called over her shoulder.
Raina snorted in amusement. Yes, hiding behind a magazine with a backpack the size of a small country in purple camo was definitely less noticeable. And where was her grandma buying these camo outfits?
She squinted against the glare bouncing off the water and peeled off her jacket. It felt like a spring day rather than the middle of winter. The koi fishes flashed around the pond, rushing to every shadow with opened mouths.
Footsteps thudded against the floor planks and she turned to see Smith at the foot of the bridge. He could be considered handsome, but he had the demeanor of a tiny man who needed to strut like a puffed rooster. His polo shirt and jeans were tight as ever and his blonde hair just as big.
“I’m glad you gave my proposition some thought,” Smith said. “I can give you an endorsement for your private investigator license.” Since she stood at the top of the arch, he met her eye to eye.
“I have no plans on becoming a PI,” Raina said. And when did a cop’s endorsement matter?
“Isn’t this why you called me? So you can tag along on the investigation for Martin Eng’s murder?”
“No. I want my grandfather’s journal, and I know you have it. I’m here to trade information for it.”
Smith studied her like she was a bimbolina. If Raina cared, she would be insulted. As it was, she found it amusing he would dismiss her. “I’m not sure your information is of any value to me.”
“How about the date and time of the shipment to bring in your fiancée’s murderer—Sonny Kwan.”
Smith’s expression didn’t change, but the vein on the side of his neck throbbed. “Ah, I see. Aiding and abetting a known felon could get you thrown in prison. Tell me everything you know about the Nine Dragons, and I could get you off on probation.”
If Raina’s eyebrows could go any higher, they would touch her hairline. Was he trying to scare her into becoming a police informant? “What are you talking about?”
“Your grandfather had ties to the triad. The arrangement is probably passed to someone in your family. I’m surprised this person is you. Tell me what you know, and I can help you. Getting involved with hardened criminals can ruin your life.”
Raina turned away from him, glancing down at the pond. A silver and black koi fish about the size of a log whipped water against a rock and headed toward the food tossed into the opposite bank. She didn’t even know how to answer Smith.
Pretending to be part of the organization would be idiotic. She didn’t need to be on the police radar any more than she already was. But how could she get Smith to believe her information would help him capture Sonny without being a triad snitch?
“You might have grabbed the journal, but I picked up a note.” She glanced up at him. “A man with a scar next to his mouth pushed me onto the rail at the BART station a few nights ago. It was crowded, and I stood too close to the edge. After describing the scar to the Chinese community, I found out he is Sonny Kwan, Dai Lo of the Nine Dragons.” She shuddered, which was real enough. “If I’d known who he was before, I would have run the opposite direction rather than chase him.”
Smith sighed as if she missed her boat. “A tiny little girl like you isn’t going to last long locked up with the hardened criminals. Call me when you change your mind and want to be a police informant.”
He left without a backward glance. If he thought she was connected to the triad, then her information could misdirect the police from an actual operation. His offer to take her on as a police informant was ludicrous, except now she was back to square one.
Sonny’s plan was a long shot, but she secretly hoped it might recover her grandfather’s journal. At least now she could return her focus to investigating Martin’s murder and looking into Hudson’s finances.
She trotted to the bonsai tree, but didn’t see any purple camo. Where did her grandma go? She pulled out her cell phone, but before she could dial Po Po’s number, she heard shuffling in the shrubs behind her.
Whack! Thump!
Alarmed, she backed away and slowly circled the shrubs while the whacking and thumping continued.
“Stop! I’m not a hit man!” a man called out.
Hudson?
Raina peered through the vegetation and saw Po Po on the back of a man, her short legs wrapped around his thick waist, one arm curled under his throat, and her other hand whacking him with the Monkey Fist. The overhanging vegetation prevented her grandma from maneuvering the weapon of mass destruction with any momentum or she would have done real damage to her future son-in-law. As it was, she was like a buzzing fly that one would swat under a different circumstance.
When the man turned, Raina wanted to laugh at Hudson’s clenched teeth and raised arms, trying to ward off her grandmother without harming her. If he hadn’t second-guessed his desire to be part of the family, now would be a good time.
“It's Hudson! Po Po, stop,” Raina yelled.
Po Po slid off his back, wheezing, and bent over her knees. “Geez, I could have split your head like a watermelon. What are you doing skulking about in the bushes?”
“I was trying to do my part in the investigation. Your mother was right—it’s a carnival around you two. Why would a hit man be after you?”
“What do you expect? I was incognito and yet you still managed to sneak up on me.”
“Purple camo, pimp cane, a small backpack with a canteen. You blended with the environment. Must be my X-ray vision.”
Po Po glowered at him and addressed Raina. “How did it go? Did Smith want to trade?”
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She shook her head, both to her grandma’s antics and to answer her question. “Smith thinks I am part of the Nine Dragons. He offered me the job of being the snitch.”
“You can’t do that. The triad would hunt you down,” Hudson said, his voice full of concern. “When did you become involved with the triad? Does your mother know?”
She eyed her future stepfather. “I don’t understand how Smith got the impression I’m even remotely connected to the triad. It’s good you’re here, Hudson. There's something I've wanted to ask you. Did you call Sonny Kwan about my grandfather's journal?”
Hudson’s eyes widened, his thoughts racing across his face—from chagrin to guilt. “Yes, but I didn’t expect you to get hurt. If Win hadn’t said something, we’d never know. I can’t believe you kept being pushed onto the train tracks a secret.”
“Oh, just stop it,” Po Po said. “You’re not her father. There’s no need to get on this high horse.”
Hudson flushed in embarrassment. “You don't know what it's like to have the triad breathing down your neck for protection money. Being a small business owner isn’t fun and games—”
Raina held up her hand to stop his babbling. “Why are you with my mother?”
“Because I love her.”
“What if I tell you she has no money left in her trust fund? That she is living on the charity of her family?”
He sneaked a glance at Po Po. “I don't see how this is relevant. It’s not like we’re getting married.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Po Po cut in. “Are you trifling with her feelings? Are you telling me, young man, you have no intentions of proposing to my daughter?”
Hudson grew even redder, the flush deepening to his throat. “The two of us have an understanding. At our age, we want companionship, but no strings. We’re both on the same page about marriage.” He folded his hands over his potbelly as if to end the discussion on his love life.
Oh no. Her mom would get her heart broken by this man. Raina curled her hands and tucked them into her armpits. He was lucky they were out in public, or she might grab her grandma’s key chain and give him a whack or two herself. Now how was she to convey his message to her mother without getting shot? It was much easier to be the worm on the sidewalk than a messenger bearing bad news.