“Veronica, this is my cousin, Sunny,” Daniel said.
Sunny shook Veronica’s hand with a smile. Veronica liked the look of her immediately—not just her style, which was made her think of the old movies she loved, but the warmth in her gaze.
“Hey Daniel oppa,” Sunny said to Daniel, giving him a quick hug. “Haven’t seen you in like, three months.”
Daniel nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got to make it over here more often.”
Sunny arched an eyebrow and Daniel grinned—some secret understanding passed between them.
“Is Jae here?” Daniel asked. Veronica remembered that Jae was his other cousin, Sunny’s brother.
“Not yet,” Sunny said.
“Did you bring a boyfriend?” Daniel asked.
“Dude, no. I’m not going to start dating someone just because you asked me to.”
Veronica smirked. “Did he tell you to bring someone so I wouldn’t feel awkward?” Her own boldness surprised her, but Sunny made her feel comfortable somehow.
“Ronnie, you have no reason to feel awkward,” Daniel said.
“Danny, please,” Sunny said. She grinned at Veronica. “The answer is yes he did, and I told him he was nuts to bring you on game night, with all of us here, like a pack of hyenas. But Danny never listens to me.”
“Does everyone in your family call you Danny?” Veronica asked him.
“Everyone but my mom. She calls me Dan-Dan.”
“Nice,” Veronica said, smirking some more.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s not my favorite.”
“Maybe if you keep calling me Ronnie I’ll start calling you Dan-Dan.”
Daniel arched his eyebrows. “If you’re sure you want me associating you with my mother…”
“Ew,” Sunny said.
“Sunny, come here,” Eun Hee called from the kitchen.
“She’s making kimchi and dwenjang jjigae,” Sunny said as she went. “Your mom is bringing KFC.”
“Figures,” Daniel said. He turned to Veronica. “So far so good, right?”
Veronica watched Sunny’s back disappear into the kitchen. “I like her.”
“I knew you would. You guys should talk movies. You’ll be at it for hours.”
Veronica smiled.
The sound of a car brought Jung-Hwa from wherever he had gone to the front door. He swung it open as a couple near his age mounted the steps. The man had a full head of hair, and was taller than Jung-Hwa, but Veronica saw the family resemblance in the shape of their faces. It also struck her how much the woman looked like Daniel. She had the same diamond-shaped face and graceful eyebrows. She must be his mother. She wore a smart tweed suit and her hair in a French twist.
“Anhyonghaseyo, Omma, anhyonghaseyo, Appa,” Daniel said, stepping towards them as he grabbed Veronica’s hand. Her heart, which had settled down when she met Sunny, began racing again. She stuck out her hand.
Daniel’s father shifted the tub of fried chicken he carried so he could shake her hand. Daniel’s mother took her hand next, shaking it in a firm grip. Jung-Hwa said a quick burst of Korean to his brother and took the tub of chicken.
“Please,” Jung-Hwa continued in English, “come in. Please make yourselves comfortable.” He gestured to the four of them to sit on the couch.
Once settled, Daniel said, “Veronica teaches French at Eleanor Roosevelt High.”
“French? Beautiful language,” his mother said, settling herself and smoothing her skirt.
Veronica gave her a nervous smile. She realized that Daniel hadn’t introduced his parents by name. Should she just call them Mr. and Mrs. Seong? And how then would she differentiate from his uncle and aunt? Could she politely avoid ever using their names?
“High school students,” Daniel’s father said. He clicked his tongue.
“Yeah, they can be tough,” Veronica agreed.
“Danny was a monster,” his father said, giving his son a grimace.
Veronica raised her eyebrows and looked at Daniel. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, mouthing “lies.”
“It’s true,” his father said, catching this. “Did he ever tell you about the car?”
“Oh no, Appa. Please,” Daniel said, his eyes widening.
“Danny stole a car,” his father said, peering at Veronica.
“I did not steal a car!”
“To be fair, it was his father’s car,” Daniel’s mother said. She crossed her legs at the ankles and leaned back against the couch, looking elegant and distant. Veronica admired her but her sense of intimidation did not abate.
“Danny wanted to borrow the car,” his father said, leaning with his elbows on his knees. “I was restoring it.”
“It was such a cherry,” Daniel said. “A 1972 Monte Carlo. Gulf green. Hedmann long tube headers—it sounded amazing. How could you expect a sixteen-year-old to resist that kind of temptation?”
“And there was a girl,” his mother added.
“Her boyfriend had a Trans Am. I had to show her what a real car looked like,” Daniel said, putting his palms out in a pleading gesture aimed more at his father than Veronica. “I did ask before I took it.”
“You asked and I said no,” his father scoffed. “So the next day when I go out to put a new vintage set of rims on it, what do I find? No car in my garage.”
“My mistake was doing it on a day you didn’t have to work,” Daniel said.
Veronica leaned in a bit, taken with the story. “So what did you do?” she asked Daniel’s father.
“I went to my neighbor. He drove me to the school.”
Daniel groaned and closed his eyes.
“I found my car in the student lot—can you imagine parking my beautiful car in a student lot?” his father said. “He is only alive today because I got there before some stupid kid dinged it.”
“It would have been fine…” Daniel muttered.
“And I had a second set of keys. So I drove it and parked at a friend’s house. My friend drove me back to the school so we could watch Danny when he went out to the lot.”
Veronica gasped. “You must have panicked,” she said to Daniel.
He groaned and nodded.
His father laughed. “You should have seen him! I think he turned four shades of green!”
“I was this close to puking my guts out,” Daniel agreed. “I thought it was stolen! I thought I’d have to tell my father his car got stolen out of the school parking lot! Oh, that was a bad day.”
“My friend drove me home. I let Danny walk.”
Veronica laughed a little and glanced at Daniel, who shot her a mock scowl.
“Boy, was he relieved when I told him what really happened,” his father said.
“I bet,” Veronica said.
Jung-Hwa entered from the kitchen. “Turn on the TV,” he said to no one in particular. “The game is on in five minutes.”
“Is Jae coming tonight?” Daniel asked him. “I need someone else around so I don’t take so much heat.”
“He should be here already, but you know Jae,” Jung-Hwa said.
Sure enough, after a few moments, which were mostly occupied by Jung-Hwa, Daniel and Daniel’s father struggling to program the DVR to record the game, the front door opened and a man about Daniel’s age entered, followed by a woman with long blonde hair.
“Jae, this is Veronica,” Daniel introduced them. “And Veronica, this is his girlfriend, Olivia.” Veronica shook hands with everyone, and began to relax as Jae and Olivia engaged Daniel’s parents in conversation. “See?” Daniel whispered to her. “Told you it would be fine.”
~~~
Later that evening, as the others watched the game, Daniel and Veronica helped clear the coffee table of dishes.
“I wanted to tell you,” Daniel said. “I have some news.”
“Is it Leinani?” Veronica asked, turning to meet his eyes as she leaned over the dishwasher.
“What?”
“Leinani Hekili. Lola’s sister? I saw th
at the cops picked her up with Paul Carver. I’ve been worried about her.”
“Oh, yeah. I did call about that, but at this point it’s pretty much out of my hands, and the arson people are pissed I stepped on their investigation with having Paul arrested anyway, so I don’t know how much I can do.”
Veronica groaned and placed a plate in the washer. “I just want that poor little girl to finally be safe.”
Daniel pressed his lips together and nodded.
“She’s lost her mother and her step-father… and he was no prize, but then Paul got a hold of her and who knows what he did to her.”
“It’d be great, actually, if you could figure out a way to give me more info about that,” Daniel said. “The SFD still likes Lola for the arson and I don’t have much to hold him on.”
Veronica stared at him. “You aren’t going to let him go, are you?”
“It’s just a matter of time. He’s going to get a public defender and despite what the movies say, not all of those guys are hacks. It’s not going to take much to get him cut loose.”
“But he burned down the building! He knocked his parents out and burned them alive!”
“You know that, and I believe that you’re right, but I have no way to prove that.”
Veronica let out a guttural cry of frustration.
“Anyway, Ronnie, that’s got nothing to do with my news.”
She blinked at him and he placed a glass in the dishwasher.
“It’s about Amani Ahmad. Or at least, her uncle Hamza and his business partner, Ghattas.”
“What about them?”
“I put some calls out a while back, you know? Well, a friend of mine in immigrations got back to me. He’s got a contact at the DEA. It seems they’re investigating Hamza for drug smuggling.”
“No,” Veronica said.
“Yes,” he said, giving her a firm nod. “So you see what I was saying about steering clear of that guy?”
Veronica shook her head. “I never thought he was a nice guy, Daniel. I just wanted to help Amani.” Something struck her. She thought about it, trying not to let her mounting excitement cloud her judgment. “That’s it.”
“What?”
“Amani can give Lola an alibi,” she said.
“What?”
“You said the fire started sometime on Thursday evening, right? Well, I saw Lola at the motel, and she ran into Amani Ahmad. I just have to get Amani to agree to make a statement, right? If she’ll say she saw Lola in Elk Grove on Thursday evening, the arson investigators will have to drop the charges and look at Paul.”
“Do you think Amani will remember Lola?” Daniel asked, holding a plate over the dishwasher.
“I bet she will. She saw that man throw Lola down. That had to have been memorable.”
Daniel gave a nod. “Yeah, that could work.”
“Will you drive me?”
“Now? Ronnie, there’s no point going now. It’s almost ten, and you said it’s in Elk Grove, so by the time we get there it would be closer to ten thirty. And no one is going to release Lola at ten thirty. You’d better avoid pissing off your witness and wait until tomorrow.”
Veronica leaned against the kitchen counter and sighed. “I guess.” She looked at him. “But I’m calling in a sub. I’m going over there first thing. Will you drive me?”
“As much as I like the implication that I’d be getting up early with you, I can’t,” he said. “Duty calls, and I can’t get a sub.”
“Well, Khalilah can,” Veronica said, pulling her phone from the pocket of her jeans.
Chapter 18
Daniel left Veronica at her door that night, giving her a kiss. Part of her wanted to invite him in—wanted to convince him he didn’t need to get a full night’s sleep before work—but another part kept worrying over Lola and Lei and wouldn’t relax. She knew that part would interfere with any attempts at intimacy.
Harry barreled in from the back yard when she opened the door and danced in circles around her as she greeted him. Soon Blossom and Binky appeared from the bedroom, yawning and stretching. She fed everyone and stroked the cats. Blossom perched on the counter and closed her eyes as Veronica ran her fingers over the cat’s soft head. Blossom always preferred affection to food. Not so with Binky.
They all went to bed and Veronica stared at the darkness for a while before going to sleep. A dream waited on the edge of her mind. She feared it might be from Terri and Owen Carver again, angry because Daniel said he would have to let Paul go soon.
“I’m doing the best I can,” she whispered.
No sense fighting sleep. They’d already shown her they could give her a waking vision, anyway. She rolled onto her side and tucked the blankets over her shoulder.
~~~
White-painted cement walls surrounded her. She lay on a cot bolted to the wall, and her roommate slept on the other, snoring faintly. Lola, then.
Her body felt tight and achy. She lay on her side, echoing the position Veronica had fallen asleep in, but her knees pulled in high towards her chest. She had an arm wrapped around them. Her cheek, nose, jaw and eye throbbed, and when she shifted, her ribs hurt, too. From the beating the night before? Or had there been another?
Lola did not move. Pain filled her, not from the outside wounds, but from within. Veronica couldn’t read her thoughts, but she could feel what she felt—the pulse of pain that traveled through her from her heart to her fingers, to her eyes, to her throat.
Her hand moved from its spot on her shin to the inside of her shirt. Her fingers touched something hard and flat there—possibly metal, although with the warmth of her body, Veronica couldn’t be sure. Her finger ran the length of it, then around the end and up again, and a slicing cut made her jerk her hand away. Metal, and sharpened.
Did she plan to cut her roommate with it?
Lola brought her hand up in front of her face. Barely visible in the gloom, lit only by faint light from the two panes in the door. Dark blood stained her fingers. Lola looked at them, but didn’t comfort herself by putting them in her mouth. She just watched herself bleed.
~~~
Veronica opened her eyes. She still lay on her side, but her heart pounded and she dug her fingers into the bedclothes. Suicidal. Veronica was sure of it. Lola was giving up. She wouldn’t last much longer.
“Please,” Veronica whispered. “Please, tell her I’m going to get her out. Tell her Lei is safe, and I’m going to get her released.”
She didn’t know if the spirits would hear or listen if they did. She didn’t know if they could do anything. But if they could engineer it so Lola wound up at the same hotel as Amani, maybe they could do something to keep Lola from hurting herself.
~~~
“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Khalilah said the following morning as she sat down behind the wheel of her sedan and Veronica settled into the passenger seat. “I’ve been wanting to go back there, you know, and talk to her again.”
Veronica couldn’t say the same. She felt embarrassed about tracking Amani down when she’d purposefully hidden herself. If Veronica could undo her part in all of it, she would. Going back to the motel meant facing Amani again, and she didn’t relish it. But Amani could help exonerate Lola.
They drove without much conversation to the Peach Walnut. Khalilah parked and they got out together, moving purposefully. When they knocked on the door to 137, no one answered. Khalilah’s eyebrows drew together, and Veronica could tell she was worried.
“She’s just out,” Veronica said. “She can’t stay in her room all the time.”
Khalilah gazed at her. “Are you sure? Did you see something?”
Veronica shook her head, looking up and down the walkway. No one was around.
“Can you make a vision come? I can’t leave until I know she’s safe,” Khalilah said.
“I can try. It usually works,” Veronica said. She pressed her right palm to the door.
~~~
Pounding. Veronica saw the inside of t
he motel room, and felt herself cower as the pounding got louder. The room lacked light—no lamps were on, but from the dark of the window she presumed it was night. She retreated to the bathroom and locked the door.
The thundering pounding stopped.
Amani—for Veronica felt certain she saw through Amani’s eyes—waited, her ear pressed to the bathroom door. After what felt like at least fifteen minutes, she unlocked it. She yanked open a drawer on a small dresser by the wall and pulled clothes out, stuffing them into a grocery bag. As she gather a small coin purse and started putting on a pair of shoes that she had to go under the bed to find, the door to her room swung open.
It was the man from another dream—the one who spit in someone’s face.
“Amy Hamza!” Amani gasped.
The man glared at her. So this was Uncle Hamza. His thick beard obscured most of his face. “Sof taaten ma aee!” he said.
“Laa! Atrakny wahdy!” Amani cried. “Abtad any!”
He charged in, and Veronica saw for the first time another man standing in the doorway, holding a cap in his hands. He twisted it. “Amani?” he called as Hamza towered over her.
“Baba!” Amani said.
“Nazlty wehna al arad,” Hamza shouted, slapping her. The blow knocked her against the wall, and she clasped a hand to her stinging cheek. He grabbed her bicep and force-walked her out of the room, slamming the door as her father watched, his eyes wide and glistening.
~~~
Veronica pulled her hand off the door and looked around, afraid she would see Hamza standing down the way. The only person with her was Khalilah, however, and she watched her, her eyebrows drawn together in concern.
“You—you moved as if someone hit you,” Khalilah said in a low voice.
Veronica grimaced and rubbed her cheek, even though it didn’t hurt anymore.
“Oh, Khalilah,” she said. “They found her. Hamza and Jahid. They came here and got her.”
Khalilah’s face drained of color. She put a hand to her mouth and leaned against the door.
“This is very bad,” she murmured. “She may be in danger. When did this happen?”
The Fire and the Veil (Veronica Barry Book 2) Page 23