by Anne R. Tan
It was from Smith.
You got yourself a deal.
Raina fist pumped the air. Hot diggity dog. Finally some good news.
She flew into the guest bedroom—throwing on clothes with wild abandon. This was it. Her chance to redeem herself to her grandma. She thanked her ancestors and even whistled when she left the house.
The drive to the Japanese Tea Garden didn’t take any longer than the last time, but it felt like forever with the bumper-to-bumper traffic across town and winding along Martin Luther King Jr Drive. Why couldn’t Smith choose someplace less popular with the tourists? She didn’t know what Smith’s fascination was with the place, but the bared cherry and wisteria trees were depressing to look at in the damp and fog. Maybe she could ask him about it.
Her footsteps thudded on the wooden floor planks as she climbed Drum Bridge to where Smith waited for her at the highest point on the arch. She stood next to him, pulling up the collar of her jacket. He towered over her by a mere two inches. If she huffed and puffed at his blond hair she might deflate it enough so they would be the same height.
He continued to stare at the jostling fishes in the pond even though she knew he was aware of her presence. His tapered hands looked frail as they hung over the rails on the bridge. “I proposed to my fiancée on this bridge the day before she died.”
Raina tucked her hands into her armpits and stiffened to keep the shivering from showing. This feud between Smith and Sonny ran deep. She didn’t know whether to be worried for the detective or the triad leader. Or maybe it would be smarter to worry about herself. The sacrificial lamb between Titans always got pulverized in the battle.
“If you lie to me, I will crush you.” His hands curled into fists. “I will reach into the little small town of yours and squeeze the life out of you even if I take an entire lifetime to do it.”
A bolt of fear settled on her chest, but she managed to wheeze out, “Understood. The information is good. And for the record, I have no ties with the Nine Dragons.”
He glanced up, studying her eyes. “Good. I would hate to take down a nice girl like you.” He pulled out the journal from a pocket inside his jacket and held out his other hand.
Raina dug in her purse for the yellow crêpe paper Sonny had given her a few nights ago. She unfolded it so the Nine Dragons chop’s red ink sparkled in the light. “Just like in the olden days. The stamp is from a Chinese chop, probably carved into a block of jade or obsidian. I wonder if only the Dai Lo has this chop or if the other levels of the organization—”
“No wonder you’re an academic. Do you know how many people died from one of these orders?”
Raina flushed at his assessment of her personality. He was right because she hadn't thought about all the people Sonny Kwan maimed or killed with one swift stamp of his chop. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I blather when I’m scared.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m afraid my ignorance will get me killed.”
His hatchet face tightened, but his lips curled into a mirthless smile. “I’m glad you have a brain in that head of yours.”
They exchanged the journal and yellow paper. He studied the Chinese writing with an intense look on his face like he was trying to puzzle out the combination on a locked safe.
Raina shifted from foot to foot, unsure if she should take off with the book. When she couldn’t bear it any longer, she blurted out, “Do you need me to translate it for you?”
“Eleven fifteen at the Port of Oakland.”
Her eyebrows rose, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. In his obsession, he would have learned the language so he could overhear information to take the triad down. “Okay, I’m going to leave now.”
She strolled off the bridge with a casualness she didn’t feel. At the foot, she glanced up the arch, but he had turned away from her. His shoulders shook, and he appeared shrunken. If he were anyone else, she would say he was crying.
She jogged the rest of the way back to her car. Inside the vehicle, she hit the locks and breathed deeply for the first time.
Raina clutched the journal in her hands. In less than twenty-four hours Sonny Kwan would come for this. She would need to move fast if she were to get the information she needed from this little book before it disappeared again. She pulled out her cell phone to text at the number Sonny had given her earlier.
Hook, line, and sinker. Good luck.
Maybe a little devil whispered in ear, but she added a second message.
You never told me what happened to your clothes.
His cell phone would probably get thrown in the trash after receiving her text. She didn’t know why she’d added the second message, but curiosity had made her do dumb things before.
Her phone dinged. The message was from Sonny.
I got blood all on mine. The clothes came from a Laundromat.
She shivered at the text. They were bound by their grandfathers’ shared history, but she hoped never to encounter Sonny Kwan again in this lifetime.
* * *
Raina raced through the traffic-clogged streets and made it back to the Victorian in record time— half an hour. She ran up the stairs and into her brother’s bedroom to use his computer and scanner. She hadn’t bothered to bring her laptop to San Francisco because she’d thought she would only stay for a few days when she’d packed.
The laptop and scanner powered on and she was in business. Each page took an eternity while the machine whirred and screeched. She didn’t dare to slow down by reading the pages. There would be plenty of time to peruse the book after she was done. By her estimation she had until tomorrow morning before Sonny Kwan would come to collect the journal.
Her cell phone rang, and she picked up. “Hello?”
“…Napa Valley Recovery Center…called…Rice…”
“You’re breaking up.” She glanced down at the network indicator on her phone. There were no bars. “I’ll call you back on the house phone.”
Raina ran downstairs and snatched the kitchen phone off its cradle. She wanted to make sure there would be no static when she heard what Brandi had to say about Hudson’s finances. As she punched in the phone number for the rehab center, the front door clicked open. She was pressing the key combination to get a live person when Mom sailed into the kitchen, heading straight for the refrigerator.
The receptionist picked up the phone. “Napa Valley Recovery Center.”
She gave her mom a sideways glance. Now what? She didn’t want her mother to listen in on the conversation. “This is Raina Sun. You called me a few seconds ago.”
“Sorry, we called several people. What is this regarding?”
“I asked the nurse to check in on a friend this morning.”
“Who’s the friend?”
“Um…”
The receptionist sighed. “Could you hold, please?” Elevator music came on.
“Is Eden all right?” Mom mouthed.
Raina gave her mother the okay sign with her hand, and Mom wandered out of the room and headed upstairs. This was close. Nothing worse than to hear bad news about your fiancé from eavesdropping on a conversation.
“Hello, ma’am? Are you still here?” said the voice in the phone line.
“Yes,” Raina answered eagerly. “I called earlier about Brandi Rice. Did one of the nurses check on her?”
“How come you didn’t say so earlier?” the receptionist said, a hint of irritation in her voice.
“Sorry. Her mother was in the room with me and I didn’t want her to overhear our conversation. You know how mothers are. She’s already worried enough as it is about Brandi.” The lie rolled smoothly out of her mouth.
There was the sound of flipping pages. “Here it is. This is odd. She had a visitor early this morning, checked herself out, and left with him.”
Mom came back down the stairs and poked her head into the kitchen. When she saw Raina was still on the phone, she tiptoed in and handed her a note. The front door slammed, and she was gone. Ty
pical.
Raina tucked the paper into her jeans pocket. “What do you mean she checked out? Who was the visitor? Don’t you have procedures to keep something like this from happening?”
“This is a recovery center, not a jail. Our patients are here voluntarily, and they can leave anytime.”
She took a deep breath to steady her voice. This wasn’t the receptionist's fault. “Brandi is hiding from an abusive boyfriend. She wants to end the relationship. She asked my family for help, and we thought the recovery center would be a safe haven since it’s outside the City. Who was her visitor? Was he the boyfriend?”
“Let me call you back. I need to check the log book and talk to the director. I’m not supposed to give out confidential information about our patients.” The receptionist hung up with a brisk click.
Raina slammed the phone back on the cradle. Her grandma was right—there was something satisfying in smacking the receiver down.
She couldn’t believe Brandi Rice would walk away without contacting someone. Wasn’t the recovery center supposed to be the safest place for her? Everyone knew drug addicts didn’t always make the best decisions. What if her deadbeat boyfriend was the one who came to get her?
She shoved her hands into her pockets in frustration. Her fingers curled around the note Mom had given her. She pulled it out and opened it. Her heart stopped beating. This had to be a mistake.
“Taking journal to Martin’s for séance to find his killer.”
With shaking hands, Raina grabbed the kitchen phone again and dialed her mother’s cell phone number. “Pick up, Mom. Pick up.”
The call went straight to voicemail, and she cursed her luck, but left a message for her mother to call her back. She called Hudson and got voicemail again. They must have had their phones off for the ceremony.
What kind of incompetent fool would have a séance on Chinese New Year? She couldn’t believe her mother went along with the scheme. Geez, no wonder business for his feng shui consultation was down the toilet. If Raina didn’t stop them, her mom would deal with spirits, and angry ones at that, during the Year of the Monkey.
To drive across town again, get the journal, and come back to the Victorian would take at least three hours, cutting into the time she had left before Sonny Kwan came for the journal. Why was her mother doing this to her?
The kitchen phone rang, and she snatched up the receiver. “Hello? Mom?”
“This is Tina, calling you back from the Napa Valley Recovery Center,” said the receptionist.
“Did you find out who Brandi left with?” Raina asked.
“Yes, ma’am, it was her brother—Hudson Rice.”
19
Storming the Castle
Raina thanked the receptionist and hung up. Did Hudson get his sister for the séance? The idiot probably thought it was all fine and dandy to bring the whole family together to contact Martin on the other side.
She still had no idea who killed Martin. Joley Mok had no motive and turned out to work for Martin. And Sonny Kwan didn’t seem the type to not take credit for the hit. With these two suspects eliminated, this left one of the Rice siblings, but which one? Martin was worth more to them when he was alive than dead. Hudson needed his help to keep the family business going, and Brandi could have gotten back into his good graces with time. It made no sense. And her mother was in the middle of it all.
Tangling with murderers wasn't something she took lightly. She could call Smith if she had an ounce of proof, which she didn't other than her hunch. How could she explain that her Chinese intuition was zinging like a metal detector over rusted soda cans? Besides, he was probably busy setting up for the sting operation to capture Sonny this evening.
She slammed a fist on the counter. Geez, why did she always have to save her mom? If she could just drive back to Gold Springs and the safe cocoon she'd built for herself there.
There was only one person who could help her now. She called Po Po and got her voicemail. As she headed out the door, she left her grandma a detailed message about her rescue mission. If nothing else, her grandma could “pick up the bones” as the Chinese saying went if it all ended badly.
When Raina got to the Richmond District, she found a parking spot around the corner from the townhouse. With luck, she could approach the home undetected from the smaller street. Maybe she could even sneak in from the window on the side yard which she’d failed to do with Po Po the first time. That was as far as she got with her planning. And if Brandi had a gun, then any pre-planning on Raina’s part would be for naught anyway.
The street was busy as usual, but everyone kept their heads down and trotted with a purpose that meant they wouldn’t care if someone screamed bloody murder. The rolling fog and chill wasn’t conducive to loitering and small talk. She was half hoping to find Gigi yapping like she normally did, but no dice.
Raina let herself into the side yard. The gate swung open as if the hinges had recently been oiled. The little paved pad looked much as it did before—trash and recycle bins against the fence and smeared tomatoes in front of it. Martin never got the chance to clean up the mess Raina and Po Po made the last time they were here.
She wheeled the trash bin underneath the window, the plastic wheel rumbling on the pavers like someone who gorged too much on a Thanksgiving feast. Taking a deep breath, she climbed up on the flimsy plastic container and reached for the window. It slid up with a groan. She held her breath but continued to push the window open, one inch at a time. City dwellers were trained to ignore road and minor noises. And both Hudson and Brandi had lived in the City their entire life.
Raina stuck her head into the opening. The narrow hallway was dark and empty. Good. She threw a leg across the sill and climbed in. The drapes were drawn over the windows for the séance. She hoped no one noticed the pale light that followed her entrance.
She crept to the guest bathroom and bedroom to make sure there weren’t any surprises in them. They looked just like any other spare rooms. An old bed and storage boxes. Now what? She had a Monkey Fist, package of firecrackers, and lighter. Not exactly weapons of mass destruction or even enough to put the fear of G—
Footsteps shuffled in the hallway.
Raina took a step backwards until her legs bumped against the bed. She dropped to the ground and rolled underneath it, stirring up decades of dust on the shag carpeting. She held her breath. Don’t come in.
“What are you planning to do with her?” Brandi spat, like a wet angry cat.
“Nothing. We’re going to ‘accidentally’ burn the journal and hopefully that would be the end of all talk about Uncle Martin’s cannibalism,” Hudson said.
Raina slid her cell phone out of her pocket and tapped on the recorder app. Did the two of them conspire to kill Martin Eng for his shameful secret?
“What was that?” Brandi asked.
“What was what?”
Shoes appeared in Raina’s limited view. “I thought I saw some kind of light in the room.”
“Don’t be such a chicken butt. It’s not even a real séance,” Hudson said.
“And hence, why the family business is in trouble in the first place.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m a fraud?” He sounded indignant. “It’s not my fault Uncle Martin’s secret would have ruined the business. What was the man thinking to take up cannibalism again after all these years?”
“Are you sure no one else knows about this? And this is the only evidence? I swear, Hudson—”
“What’s taking so long?” Mom called from the hallway.
Heeled boots, which had to be Brandi’s, crossed the room. The closet door slid open. “Here’s the joss paper.”
“Come on, honey. Let’s get this show on the road. We’ll give Uncle Martin a proper sending off so his spirit can stop lingering…” Hudson’s voice faded as they went back into the living room.
Raina lay there stunned, staring at the box spring and breathing in the dusty air. She turned off the r
ecorder app and put the phone in the zipper pocket of her jacket for safekeeping. It had never crossed her mind there would be two murderers.
Especially since they both had alibis. Hudson was with her mom. She’d walked in on them in the dining room that morning. How would her mother take the news her fiancé was a murderer? And Brandi was in a domestic abuse situation with flashing cop lights and all. How could she make it to Martin’s townhouse after such a beating?
If Raina left now, pretending like she hadn’t recorded anything, and collected her mom at the front door, would the Rice siblings let the two of them go? But then she would lose the journal since the Rice siblings planned to burn it as a sacrifice to their uncle.
And she needed the journal if she was to make amends with her grandma. Without the secrets contained between its covers, her family might never find out why their former patriarch had another family waiting in the wings.
She wiggled on her stomach to get out from underneath the bed. The phone dug painfully in her side, but she couldn’t move the phone without pinning her arm in the tight space. Fabulous. She got her torso out when the notes of “Fight Song” filled the air followed by a vibration that sent a stab of fear straight from her mid-section to her heart.
She scrambled out and fumbled with the zipper on her pocket. The phone continued to buzz and sing. She turned it off. The call was from Cassie. As usual, her sister had a great sense in timing.
A shadow fell across the threshold. Raina glanced up to see Brandi tapping a baseball bat on her palm. Great. She gave the woman a weak smile. “I’m ready to have a chat with Uncle Martin.”
“Nice try. I knew there was something fishy when I saw that flash of light.” Brandi pointed to a spot in front of her. “Put your phone right there.”
Raina tossed the phone on the floor. No way was she arguing. She took a step back to put more space between them. Good thing all her data was backed up on the cloud.