Of course, working at it probably didn't include spending more time with him. Well, she'd start working on it tomorrow. Her weary sigh drew his attention.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"Just thinking."
"You do that too much." He shifted, putting his right hand along the back of her seat.
"What are you doing?"
"Passing the time."
She scooted to the edge of her seat. "We can't do that here.”
"I think we can."
"This car is way too small," she protested, just before his hand crept around the back of her neck and pulled her toward him.
"It's perfect. You're perfect," he muttered.
He sealed the words with a lingering, tender, playful kiss that wasn't really meant to start anything. Just the same she felt her body responding with passion and intensity that went far beyond his intention. He seemed able to light her up without even trying.
Riley must have read her mood, because the kisses suddenly changed, deepened, intensified. Or maybe he was just feeling what she was feeling.
When they broke apart, there were no smiles, no teasing jokes, nothing to ease the tension between them.
"Dammit, Paige."
"What?"
"I shouldn't have done that."
"And you're blaming me."
"Yes, because you're irresistible. Every time I kiss you it's better than the last time. I keep telling myself that can't possibly be true, but it is."
His look of bemusement made her like him even more. "I feel the same way," she confessed. "I keep thinking it will burn itself out."
"We might have to make that happen."
"You mean, get each other out of our systems?"
"It's an idea."
She couldn't help smiling as she shook her head. "Another bad one. You're full of them tonight."
Before he could reply, their attention was drawn to the street where her grandfather's car pulled out of the drive. They could see two people in the back, the driver in the front.
"Looks like it's show time," Riley murmured. "Ready?"
"Yes." Because right now she had a feeling her grandfather's rooms were far less dangerous than this car.
* * *
Alyssa spotted her grandfather through the blinds of the Plum Rose Café. He was seated at the second booth, the newspaper in front of him. it was probably the racing form, she thought. When he wasn't playing mah jong or pai gow he went to the track at Golden Gate Fields and watched the horse races from around the country. She knew this was her best opportunity to speak to him alone. Tomorrow was New Year's Eve and the entire family would gather together for a huge feast of Chinese specialties that her grandmother and a half dozen cousins were working on even now. Of course she hadn't been invited to help prepare the food. Just another slight to make her remember that she didn't quite belong.
She shook the thought from her head. She had more important things to worry about right now than fitting into the family. Since Mr. Fong had suggested the possibility that the connection between the dragons and the box might mimic a connection between the various owners of those three pieces, she couldn't stop thinking about the connection between the three grandfathers. If Riley's grandfather had a dragon, then it made sense that one of the other two men might also have one. But probably not her grandfather. He'd simply worked in the stockroom at Hathaway's. He hadn't been in a position of power.
Still... there was something about the dragon that bothered her grandparents, and she had to find out what that something was.
"Alyssa?"
She turned her head to see Ben crossing the street. "What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise, feeling her heart skip a beat at the sight of him.
He smiled at her. "Trying to catch up to you. I saw you as I was leaving my friend's apartment." He pointed to a building down the street. "I couldn't believe you were actually making another trip to Chinatown."
"I want to talk to my grandfather. He's in the café."
"I can see that. He's eating alone. Hiding out from the family?"
"Avoiding the New Year's Eve preparations, I'm sure."
"You're going to ask him about the dragon?"
"I thought I might ask him about Wallace Hathaway instead, see if I can find another way into the conversation."
"Want some company?"
"I don't think so. Although he did always like you."
"What's not to like?" Ben asked teasingly. "Wait, forget I asked. You probably have a list somewhere."
"I left it at home."
Ben glanced toward the window of the café. "He's having pie. Looks like dinner is almost over. If you're planning to go, you better do it now."
"All right. Would you wait for me out here? Unless you have other plans or something. You probably do have other plans. I don't know what I'm thinking. Forget I asked."
"You are one crazy woman," Ben told her. "You argue both sides before anyone has a chance to say anything."
"I know. I should have been a lawyer. But I wanted to make money now, not in three years. I couldn't wait any longer to be independent. And I want to get this issue with the dragon resolved so I can go back to my own life." Her words erased the smile from his face, the light from his eyes.
"I'm sure you must be eager to get away from here," he said. "I actually have something to do. I'll see you around."
"Ben, wait."
"What?"
"I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I'm grateful for all the help you've given me, and especially for your friendship, which I don't deserve."
He walked back to her with deliberate, purposeful steps that made her want to step back, but she couldn't move. Because this was Ben, and she suddenly wanted very much to hear what he had to say.
"You deserve everything you want, Alyssa. And I hope you get it all."
"I wish you wouldn't be so nice."
"That's my problem. I'm the nice guy, the one who doesn't get the girl."
"It's not you, it's me," she whispered. "Until I figure out who I am, I don't feel as if I have anything to offer."
"I already know who you are. I've known for a long time. When you figure it out, give me a call." He put his hand under her chin, tipping up her face so he could look into her eyes. "Just don't wait too long."
Before she could reply, he brushed her lips with his, a brief, teasing kiss that made her want more. He was halfway down the street before she got her breath back. Turning toward the café, she forced herself to move, up the steps, through the door, and into the seat across from her grandfather.
"Alyssa," he said with surprise.
"I saw you through the window," she said. "Did you play the races today?" She tipped her head toward the racing form that was marked up with numbers and circles.
"I won a few dollars. I don't bet much, you know that. Your grandmother counts every penny. Do you want something to eat?"
"No, thanks. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."
He grimaced. "Not the dragon, please."
"About your work at Hathaway's."
His gaze dropped to his empty plate. "I worked in the stockroom. Nothing more."
"Did you get to know Wallace Hathaway?"
"He was a big man. I was a small man."
She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't say more. Instead, he picked up his empty coffee cup and waved the waitress over. He remained quiet while his cup was refilled. Even after the waitress left, he still didn't speak.
"Can you tell me anything more about him?" Alyssa prodded. "Or about the fire? I know you stopped working there after the fire."
"I can still see those flames in my mind, jumping up the walls like angry snapping snakes." He shook his head as if to dislodge the memory. "It was the end of everything."
"The end of what?" she asked.
His gaze sharpened. "The end of my job."
She had a feeling that wasn't what he'd been thinking at all.
"Why do
you ask these questions—because of the dragon that your mother can't forget?"
"Partly. But also because I want to know more about the Hathaway family."
His lips formed a tight line. "Do not speak of it, Alyssa."
And just like that she knew that he knew—about David and her mother and herself. She had been brought up not to ask questions, especially of her grandparents, and she had always respected that policy... until now. There was a need to know burning inside of her.
"Just tell me one thing—did my mother's affair with David Hathaway have anything to do with your relationship, whatever it was, with Wallace Hathaway?" she asked. "I know why my mother wanted David, but I don't know why he wanted her. And I can't help thinking, that maybe getting my mother was some sort of revenge or payback or a way of getting in someone's face, maybe even yours."
Her grandfather's face tightened. "You talk crazy. He pulled out his wallet and tossed some money on the table.
"I'm sorry if I upset you," she said as he got to his feet.
"You go home, work hard, forget about this. It was over a long time ago."
That was the problem. It wasn't over, not by a long shot.
* * *
"What do you think are the odds that we're actually going to find something in here?" Paige asked as she and Riley entered her grandfather's study. She turned on the small lamp over his desk. "I've been here before. In fact, I was here yesterday. And I didn't see a dragon or anything else suspicious."
"He wouldn't have it sitting out on his desk," Riley replied, glancing around the room. "This is nice. A man's room." He nodded approvingly at the dark wood, the heavy furniture. "Is this where your grandfather spends his time?"
"Yes. He considers these rooms his private sanctuary. Which is why we shouldn't be doing this. We have no right to be in here."
"Paige, get a grip. We're not stealing anything. We're just looking. You know your grandfather is hiding something. Asking him straight out didn't get you anywhere."
"That's true," she conceded.
"Don't forget, this missing dragon almost sent your father to the morgue."
Riley had a way of cutting to the chase that was really effective. "All right. You've convinced me. But be careful. I don't want him to know anyone was here." She glanced around the neat room. "Where do we start?"
"You check out the desk. I'll look through the filing cabinet."
Paige did as he asked, and for a few moments there was nothing but quiet rustling in the room. The desk revealed common business items, stationery, paper clips, pens. Everything was organized, nothing out of place. She closed the desk and waited for Riley to finish with the filing cabinet.
"Nothing," he said. "Where would your grandfather hide something incriminating?"
"I don't think he has anything incriminating." She couldn't stop the automatic defense. It was second nature to protect the family name.
"Let's go into his bedroom," he said, ignoring that comment. He walked through an adjoining door. She hastily followed. If there was anything to find, she wanted to be with him when he found it. She stood in the middle of the room as Riley went through the drawers of the bureau with a quiet efficiency that scared her. He looked very at home in this role of burglar. It reminded her of how different they were, where they'd come from, the lives that they'd led up until this point.
Maybe Riley was right. Maybe they were too different to belong together. Her head told her he might have a point. Her heart told her the differences didn't matter. And weren't those differences in the past? They were together in this. She might be hesitating, but if she were really honest with herself, she'd have to admit that he hadn't dragged her into it. She wanted to find the answers as much as he did. She was just letting him be the one to do it.
Wasn't that cowardly? As if not helping in the search made her actual participation seem less. But it wasn't less. They were a team, a partnership. And she'd come into this room with her eyes open. She couldn't pretend Riley was making her do it. He wasn't.
She turned and deliberately opened the door to her grandfather's walk-in closet. It was lined with suits on one side, shirts and pants on another, everything from formal to casual wear, dozens of shoes on racks, ties, hats, sweaters. It was the closet of a very rich man. She looked to the shelves that ran around the top of the closet. Her gaze caught on a square plastic container in which there appeared to be several books. She looked around for a step stool but couldn't find one.
"Anything in here?" Riley asked, moving into the closet.
"I don't know yet. But that plastic container looks interesting."
Riley reached up and pulled it off the shelf, setting it on the ground between them. She squatted down, putting her hand on the lid, but she stopped when Riley covered her hand with his. She met his eyes. "What?"
"You don't have to do this. At least, you don't have to do this with me here."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"If I find anything to incriminate your grandfather, I'll use it," he said with his usual brutal honesty.
She drew in a tight, worried breath. Maybe she should be doing this alone. But she didn't want to do it alone. She wanted to do it with him. Gazing into his passionate blue eyes, she knew she could no more send him out of the room than she could send herself. They'd already crossed that line, and there was no turning back.
"We're in this together," she murmured. "And if I find anything incriminating against your grandfather, I'll use it, too."
"Then we know where we stand."
"Not really. But let's at least open this box and find out if it's anything at all."
She pulled off the lid and realized the box was indeed something. There were three photo albums inside and a manila envelope. She grabbed one album. Riley took another. Her album showed her grandfather's childhood, black-and-white photographs of her grandfather and his parents. She flipped through it, wishing she had more time to really think about where her grandfather had come from, what kind of life he had lived as a young man.
"What did you get?" she asked Riley.
"Your grandparents' wedding pictures. Your grandmother was a beautiful woman. Looks a little like you in the eyes."
"Yes," she murmured, gazing at the page he had turned. "I wish I could have met her. Anything else?"
"Doesn't look like it."
Paige reached for the third album, wondering where this book would take them. The first page of photographs sent goose bumps down her arm. "Hathaway's," she muttered. "Look, this is the store way back when."
"In the 1920s?" Riley guessed, coming around so he could sit next to her on the floor.
"It looks that way. My great-great-grandfather started the store in the late 1800s. The Hathaways were part of the gold rush, only we weren't digging for gold; we were outfitting the miners and selling dry goods."
"When did the focus turn to antiques and art?"
"After World War Two when my grandfather took over," she said, wondering if there was any significance to that. "I remember him saying that his own father never had much vision, but after he'd seen the world, he realized that bringing the rest of the world to San Francisco would be a gold mine."
"It certainly was," Riley agreed.
Paige flipped through several more pages, noting the mix of photographs and yellowed newspaper clippings. There were a few pages devoted solely to the 1906 earthquake that had flattened the city and the fires that followed. Hathaway's had moved to Union Square with the rebuilding of the square after the quake. The clippings from the next few decades showed the Hathaways gaining importance as city leaders.
"This is amazing," she murmured, seeing her family history unfold before her. "I wonder why this has been hidden away. I would have loved to see it."
"Your family was really something. It looks like they built half the city."
She turned another page and stopped, the headline turning her blood cold: Wallace Hathaway Missing In Action. "Oh, my God. What's this?" She skimmed through
the article, knowing Riley was keeping pace along with her. "My grandfather's plane was shot down over mainland China," she exclaimed.
Riley met her gaze with an excited gleam in his eyes. "We just hit pay dirt. Turn the page."
She was almost afraid to do that. Her grandfather had never mentioned being shot down over China during the war. In fact, she only vaguely knew that he'd been in the war, but that was it. No one had ever spoken about that time in his life.
Riley grew impatient and turned the page for her. "Damn," he said. "Would you look at that."
It was a newspaper photograph of two men dressed in ragged uniforms, their arms around each other: Hometown Heroes Found Alive
"Our grandfathers," Paige said in amazement, recognizing both men.
"Two of San Francisco's finest, shot down over China almost three months ago, were found alive," Riley read. "They credit their survival to a young Chinese man named Lee Chen, who gave them food and shelter and kept them hidden from the enemy."
"Lee Chen?" Paige could hardly believe it. "The same Lee Chen who is Alyssa's grandfather?"
"The third connection," Riley said, meeting her gaze. "This is amazing, Paige. It's all coming together. Our grandfathers flew together in the war. Wallace must have been the Wally my grandfather talked about."
"And Alyssa's grandfather was the one who saved their lives in China."
"When they returned from the war, they all went to work at Hathaway's with a new focus, Asian art. Imagine that," Riley continued.
"The three of them worked together until a fire destroyed the store," she continued. "They went their separate ways, nothing connecting them to each other until now."
"Until a dragon statue in my grandfather's possession came to light."
"The dragon set that was lost in China during the war."
They both came to the same conclusion at the same time.
"You think they brought it back from China?" she asked.
"It sure looks that way to me."
"But that would mean they stole it. Not just my grandfather, Riley, but yours, too. Is that what you're saying?"
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Someone stole it. I'm just not sure who."
Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1 Page 61