Not a short interview, Bai mused.
Agent Carrey touched her elbow, and Bai did an about-face to follow her out of the office. Rivers followed to walk off in the opposite direction. McKay had issued marching orders. Everyone shuffled to do his bidding, which suggested that McKay was, in fact, special, and Bai just couldn’t see his special-ness.
Carrey escorted her down a hallway to a ladies room that also served as a locker room for female agents. Bai gladly exchanged her wet clothes and soggy trainers for a pair of clean sweats, adorned with the FBI logo, and a pair of heavy cotton socks. Forsaking underwear, she decided to go commando rather than sit around in soggy briefs. She stuffed her identification and credit cards into her baggy pockets. Carrey provided a plastic garbage bag for the cast-offs, which Bai carried with her back to McKay’s office.
Carrey ushered her into a seat directly across from McKay. He hadn’t bothered to rise when they’d entered and seemed absorbed in paperwork. A large ledger sat on his desk. Carrey handed Bai a paper cup containing coffee, while McKay continued to ignore them both. He appeared to be deep in thought.
“You seem to have made some enemies, Ms. Jiang,” he observed. He lifted his eyes from the ledger to pick up a stained coffee mug. His elbows rested on his desk. While sipping, he regarded her with interest. “Just exactly what were you and Agent Ranse doing in Folsom this morning?”
“Ranse? So that’s his name.” She mulled the name over. “Is his first name John?”
She’d avoided the question with a question. She could see from the exasperated look on his face McKay wasn’t fooled by the evasion.
“John Ranse is the man you know as John Race. But getting back to my question, what were you doing out there?”
She took a sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair. “You make a good cup of coffee here. It reminds me of Starbucks. The Bureau isn’t working with them, are they? I’ve had my suspicions for some time now that, contrary to popular opinion, Starbucks harbors a subversive agenda.”
He smiled tightly but played along. “Although their prices may seem exorbitant, I don’t believe they could be considered un-American. But you haven’t answered my question about Golden Heights.”
“That’s another thing,” Bai shook her head with concern. “Why would someone name a land development in what is, essentially, a valley, ‘Golden Heights’? That’s like buying a strawberry surprise only to find out the surprise is there aren’t any strawberries.”
Special Agent McKay didn’t appear to be amused. “This interview can go on for as long as you’d like, Ms. Jiang,” he said wearily. “How much time do you feel like spending here?”
She stopped to think. “I would assume the reason for our trip to Sacramento would be in Agent Ranse’s report.”
She stalled, trying to determine how much to tell him. She didn’t want to divulge any more than she had to, but she didn’t want to piss him off either. He could tie her up for a long time if he wanted.
Smiling, he nodded his head. “I need to hear it in your own words, if you’d be kind enough to indulge me.” The tenor of his voice said she wasn’t going anywhere until she told him what he wanted to hear.
“Perhaps an exchange of information is called for?” she asked.
He frowned. “You’re hardly in a position to barter.”
“And you have no reason to hold me. Your own agent will clear me of any wrongdoing. You’re on a fishing expedition and we both know it. Have you ever heard it said, ‘Dogs have so many friends because they wag their tails, not their tongues’?”
His face clouded over. “I can hold you indefinitely on suspicion of terrorist acts. That was a car bomb that went off in Folsom this morning, and it was loaded with enough explosives to take down a building. Do you have an explanation for that?”
He was bluffing. There was no way he could pin the bomb on her.
“You’ll find the bomb was aimed at me. The car, in all likelihood, had my good friend and attorney inside. I don’t make a habit of killing my friends. And if you have any illusions about holding me here, let me give you some advice. I can turn this incident into a case of racial profiling, and sue both you and this agency for false imprisonment. I really don’t think you want to go there.”
He sat back in his chair to stare at her, a sigh escaping from between his lips. He dismissed her threat with a flick of his hand. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. We’re on the same side here. Is it asking too much for a little cooperation?”
She looked at him, unmoved by his appeal. “Have you read my file?”
He looked ill at ease. “I have.”
“Did you bother to count the number of interviews I’ve had with the FBI over the past fifteen years?”
He shifted awkwardly in his chair. “You’re a known associate of criminals.”
“My only offense was being born, Agent McKay. I’ve been persecuted by this organization you happen to work for my entire life because of who my parents were. I don’t owe you anything.”
“Just let me ask, then, who’s behind this attempt on your life, if that’s what it is?”
She threw up her hands. “If I knew that, would I be sitting here?”
“Then let me ask again. What were you doing in Folsom today?”
She gave him what was already public record. “We were looking at property my lawyer had recently purchased on my behalf.”
“And that would be the same lawyer in the car that exploded this morning?”
“That’s correct.”
“And his name?”
“Benny, Benjamin Chin.”
“Do you have any idea why someone would want to kill your lawyer, Miss Jiang?”
“No.” She looked up defiantly. “Benjamin Chin was a nice man, a sweet man. There was no reason to kill him.”
When she spoke the words, she meant them. There’d been no reason to kill Benny. It’d been a spiteful and malicious act.
He studied her from across the desk, his mood softening a little. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”
She looked at him and shook her head. “I really don’t know what’s going on. My lawyer purchased some real estate. As a result, he’s dead. I’m assuming his death has something to do with the property, but I don’t have any firsthand knowledge to back that up. Right now, your guess is as good as mine. Did you find a shooter on the ridge? Race, er, Ranse said he’d seen someone on the ridge.”
He stared at her mutely a moment. “We found a body. It hasn’t been identified yet.”
“I see.”
It was pretty obvious he wasn’t giving away information, or maybe he just didn’t have anything to give. The FBI had a dead shooter, and sooner or later they’d identify him. It seemed unlikely they’d share that information with her.
He interrupted her thoughts. “What you’ve told me pretty much substantiates what Agent Ranse put in his reports. I can’t make you confide in me, but I’d caution you about looking into this on your own.”
“Why?” she asked while staring at him coldly.
“I’d hate to see you come to any harm.”
The look he gave her might have been construed as a threat. Then again, maybe he was just trying to talk sense. It didn’t matter. Her friend was dead, and she was going to find out who killed him.
“Is there anything more you’d like to tell me?” she asked.
“I believe that’s my line, Ms. Jiang,” McKay said affably.
She shrugged off his clumsy attempt at chumminess. “Am I done here?”
“That’s all we need for the time being. Agent Carrey will see that you’re comfortable until your associate is ready to join you. Have a good day, Miss Jiang.”
She blinked. The dismissal came as a surprise. She’d expected endless hours of grilling. She stood, and Agent Carrey showed her out of the room and down the hall to an interview room where she was left with her coffee cup and her garbage bag for company. When she tried the door, it was locke
d.
Two hours later, the door opened and Lee came into the room wearing FBI sweats and a plastic cast on his arm. He carried his clothes in a plastic bag identical to Bai’s. His smile said he was happy. Behind him came Agent Carrey. She looked considerably less happy.
Bai nodded a curt greeting at the female agent then turned her attention to Lee.
“How bad is it?” she asked while gesturing at his arm.
“I feel great. I can’t remember the last time I felt this good.”
She looked at his eyes. They were dilated. He was stoned.
Carrey interrupted. “You’re both free to leave. I’ll escort you out.”
The offer was delivered tersely, her expression sour. Obviously, questioning Lee had proved futile. From the look of him, Bai was pretty sure it had been entertaining.
The agent walked with them to the security desk where their weapons and phones were returned. She stuffed her gun back into its holster then tucked it into the waistband of her sweatpants. Her knife went into the plastic bag, wrapped up in her wet jeans. She flipped her phone open to find she didn’t have a signal inside the building.
“You’ll have cell access in the lobby,” Carrey informed her as she gestured toward the elevator, a pointed indication it was time for them to leave.
The agent followed them into the elevator.
“We can see ourselves out,” Bai suggested.
“My orders are to escort you to the lobby.”
They rode in silence to the ground floor. Agent Carrey waited until they’d stepped out of the elevator to punch the button for her return trip. She stared at them wordlessly as the doors slowly closed.
“Nice woman,” Lee remarked. “I think she might have a thing for me.”
“That ‘thing’ is probably an arrest warrant.”
She flipped open her phone and was grateful to see it had a signal. She called a cab, providing their location to the dispatcher as she walked toward the glass doors in the front of the lobby. While they waited for the cab to arrive, she dug her muddy leather jacket out of her bag and used her tee-shirt to clean it off.
She slipped the jacket on and transferred her identification and credit cards into pockets, surreptitiously sliding her knife back into the sleeve sheath.
“What’s the stuff in ditches that makes them smell?” she asked, sniffing diffidently at the sleeve of her jacket.
He looked at her and grinned.
“They gave you more meds in the emergency room, didn’t they?” she guessed, looking at his happy face.
“Yes, they did,” he replied triumphantly. “But to answer your question, the technical term for the stinky stuff is muck. Muck, muck, muck, muck . . . muck. I really like the sound of that word.”
“So what’s in muck?”
“You really don’t want to know the specifics. Suffice it to say, everything on God’s green earth poops, even slimy things that live in mud.”
“That’s a little disturbing. And you’re right. I really didn’t want to know.”
A cab pulled to the curb in front of the building. She took off her heavy socks and ran barefoot out the door to clamber into the backseat of the taxi. Lee piled in on top of her, laughing as he tossed his bag of dirty clothes on the floor and sat with his legs crossed, Indian-style, on the seat.
The cabbie’s grizzled face turned around at the commotion with a surprised look. In a strong Southern accent he asked, “Y’all FBI?”
She lied. “Yes, we are. We’re special agents on assignment. Take us to the nearest BMW dealership. We need to requisition a car. And step on it. We’re in a hurry.”
She dismissed the man with an imperious wave of her hand. It seemed like the kind of thing a Fed would do.
“Why?” Lee’s query caused the cabbie to turn around again, a witness to their conversation.
“Two reasons,” she replied, looking back to glare at the cabbie. He ignored her as she slipped her socks back on her cold feet. “One, we need a car, and two, I don’t want to have to explain to Elizabeth what happened to her BMW. Would you like to be the one to tell her how it got blown up while I was inside the car?”
The cabbie’s face continued to show surprise. “Y’all’s car got blown up?”
Lee lost focus and looked at the cabbie. “Who are you?”
She looked at the cabbie in exasperation. “If you don’t turn around and drive I’m going to run you for warrants. What do you want to bet I don’t get a hit?”
The cabbie turned around and hit the gas. The momentum jerked her back into the seat as he accelerated around the corner. She could see his eyes nervously checking the rearview mirror and decided it was kind of fun being a special agent.
When she turned back to Lee, he was sound asleep, his head pillowed against the glass of the side window.
“That can’t be comfortable.” She grabbed him by the shoulder of his sweatshirt to pull him toward her and let his head settle in her lap.
It took fifteen minutes to reach the dealership. They stopped under a large portico where customers dropped off cars for service. She paid the cabbie and woke a reluctant Lee, who seemed disoriented by the drugs. She pushed him out of the car and grabbed their garbage bags before following him. It was cold outside as evening approached. The rain had subsided, but the wind had picked up to bite at exposed flesh. She herded Lee through the service door entrance to get out of the wind.
She stopped to stand just inside the doorway of the dealership to get her bearings. They stood, wearing soiled socks and blue sweats with their plastic bags full of smelly clothes. She looked at Lee and laughed. He laughed too, though she suspected he didn’t know why he was laughing, an assumption that made her laugh even more.
No one approached. Several people stared. They continued to wait while minutes passed. Bai’s merriment eventually turned to anger. She folded her arms across her chest and tightened her jaw. Lee rocked in place, fighting sleep.
A young woman wearing a tailored suit and stilettos minced across the showroom with a look of obvious disdain.
“Are you lost?” she asked.
Bai took a fast step toward the woman, who correctly read the anger on her face and immediately retreated. The young woman took three quicksteps back, high heels clacking noisily against the tiled floor as she fought for balance. Nearly complete silence blanketed the large vaulted room as everyone watched—some with interest, some with shock, and one with amusement.
“I’m here to buy a car!” Bai made the declaration loud enough for everyone in the showroom to hear. She turned away from the frightened saleswoman to the man who smiled at her from across the room. “I think I’ll buy it from him.”
She grabbed Lee’s arm and walked swiftly across the room. He waved his index finger in the saleswoman’s face to mock her as he was dragged away.
The smiling man, a middle-aged gentleman with graying hair, stood at their approach. He wore a gray suit, worn open to show a sizable paunch. He put out his hand and smiled. “I see you’ve met Charlotte. My name’s Doug Hathaway. How may I be of service?”
She took his hand, her fury melting away as quickly as it had taken shape. “My name’s Bai,” she said, “and this is my friend Lee.” She steered Lee into a seat in front of Doug’s desk. “He broke his arm today, but he doesn’t care because he’s full of codeine and I don’t know what else. The story is, Doug, we need a fully loaded five-series four-door, in black with a black interior. Do you have one on the lot? We’re in a hurry.”
He seemed a little taken aback by her request but recovered quickly. “Let me take a look in inventory. I’m sure we have something to suit you.”
He sat and turned to his computer console while motioning her to take a seat next to Lee. He punched some numbers and looked up. “We have eight black sedans in stock in the five series—a 528i, 535i, and a 550i. Which are you interested in?”
She looked at Lee. He stared back, but she could see his eyes didn’t focus.
She turne
d back to Doug. “Could you bring one of each up front for me to see? I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it.”
He looked at her, chewing his lower lip while he studied her. “I know it’s terribly rude, but before I start pulling cars from inventory, I need to know that you have the means to pay for a seventy-thousand-dollar luxury automobile.”
“I understand,” she replied. She took her American Express Black Card out of her pocket along with her identification and handed it over the desk.
He studied the card, his eyebrows raised in appreciation, before looking at her picture ID. “We don’t see many of these,” he said, handing her back her card and identification. “Now let’s get those cars up here for you to look over.”
He picked up his phone and started ordering cars to be brought to the front. In less than ten minutes, three cars were lined up under the portico for inspection.
To Bai, they all looked pretty much the same. She finally decided the most likely candidate was the 535i. “I’ll take this one, Doug. Have them fill the tank while we’re doing the paperwork.”
“You don’t want to barter on the price?”
“I’m in a hurry. I want to be back in San Francisco as quickly as possible. How fast can you get us out of here?”
He thought about it for a moment. “I’ll do everything I can to get you out of here in thirty minutes, Bai.” He was starting to get into the spirit of things. “And I’ll knock five thousand off the sticker as a sign of good faith. I’d like your return business.”
She walked inside to sit at his desk while he ran her card and the people in finance worked on registering and licensing the car. Charlotte brought coffee and cookies. The treats brought a smile to Lee’s face. Bai glanced at Doug; she was surprised that a saleswoman would be drafted to serve refreshments.
Hurrying to finish up the paperwork on the new car, Doug responded to her unasked question without looking up. “Charlotte’s doing penance.” A smile appeared on his face. “I saw how she treated you when you came in the door. Besides selling cars, I also manage this store.” He looked up and met Bai’s gaze. “She’s learning it pays to be nice to everybody.”
White Ginger Page 23