by Lis Wiehl
Gabe stared up. But he had no idea who the man was looking down at him. Just that he didn’t look surprised.
Gabe realized he should have been ready. Tried to do something. Maybe he could have head-butted this guy. But instead he was just looking up at a short, slender Chinese man. Gabe could tell that he was taller than the man, and with his new physique, he had many pounds on him. Still, this guy was clearly a man, not a boy.
The man’s face was hard. Expressionless. He wore a black eye patch, but it didn’t look funny at all, not with the red divot running down his forehead and then disappearing under the patch. Gabe didn’t want to know what was—or wasn’t—under that eye patch. For a second he remembered the pirate party his mom had put on for his sixth birthday. The guests had all gotten foam swords and eye patches. Gabe had worn a pirate’s hat, and they had followed clues to find a pirate’s hoard of gold-foil-wrapped chocolate coins. Found them right here in the garage he was in now. The garage at his house. Because now he recognized where he was.
Behind the man was a white van with Jade Kitchen written on it. Why had they taken Gabe here?
He was still wondering when the man grabbed the handle of the garbage can and tilted it. Suddenly it went over. Hard. Gabe reflexively jerked his hands, trying to protect his head, but the back of his skull bounced off the side of the can as it hit the floor. While he was still lying there, stunned, the man put his hands under Gabe’s arms and hauled him out. Gabe tried to get his feet underneath him, but his legs were boneless and numb. He lay like a fish on the deck of a boat, his back arched awkwardly over his cuffed hands. He could only watch as the man slipped off Gabe’s Vans, toed off his own shoes, and slipped his feet in Gabe’s.
The man reached out one latex-gloved hand and ripped the tape from Gabe’s mouth. It should have been a relief, and it was, at least physically. He sucked in greedy gulps of air, knowing the man would only have done it if he had no worries about anyone hearing Gabe.
“Who are you?” Gabe said. “What do you want?” He wanted to sound strong, like a man, but his voice came out weak and hoarse. Were there other men here? Or was it just this one man?
“That does not matter. All that matters is that you caused a big mess and now I have to clean it up.”
“Just let me go and I won’t tell anyone what happened.” The man didn’t even bother to answer Gabe’s plea. He tried another tack. “Whatever you do, you shouldn’t try to kill me.”
One side of the other man’s mouth lifted at that. “And why not?”
“Because my mom is a King County prosecutor and her friend is a homicide detective. If you kill me, they won’t rest until you’re on death row.”
“Oh, I know your mother, Gabe. Her name is Mia Quinn.”
To hear his name in the other man’s mouth made him flinch. And why wasn’t this guy wearing a mask as well as those translucent latex gloves? Gabe could easily identify him. Especially with that eye patch.
At least he could if he were alive.
“Your mother has become a thorn in my side. That is what they say in America, right? She will not stop asking questions. Each time she takes away a little piece of information. Maybe the tiniest crumb. But she keeps coming back. Well, we have another saying in China. ‘An ant may well destroy a whole dam.’ ” His mouth twisted. “So who else lives here? And do not lie to me, or it will go very badly for them.”
Unable to work out if a lie was better, Gabe went with the truth. “Besides my mother, there’s my little sister, Brooke. She’s four. And my friend Eldon and his mom.” What was going to happen to them? He prayed that none of them came home now. Because he realized they couldn’t save him. And he couldn’t save them.
“And where are they all now?”
“My mom’s at work. My sister is at daycare. And Eldon and his mom are at the doctor’s.”
“How long until they are back?”
He still couldn’t see any point in lying. “An hour or too. Maybe less.” But not Brooke, he realized with relief. Because Gabe wouldn’t come to pick her up.
The man put his foot on Gabe’s hip and pushed him to one side. He leaned down and plucked Gabe’s phone from the back pocket of his jeans.
“What do you have on here?” He swiped sideways, looking at all of Gabe’s apps. “Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. And what kind of texts do you send?” He scrolled up and down. “Very good. Fully spelled-out words. I dislike the way Americans always have to have shortcuts.”
Gabe didn’t say anything. How could he get his hands on his phone? If he had it, he could try to dial it behind his back or press buttons with his nose. He was sure if he tried hard enough he would succeed.
“I think first we shall have you send a message to your mother.” The man spoke aloud as he continued to type. “ ‘Mom come home right away. Something bad happened.’ ” He hesitated. “No, if it ends there she might call the police when you do not answer your phone. So we shall make it”—he started typing again—“ ‘Something bad happened that I need to tell you about.’ Perfect. Just enough to make her curious. To make her hurry. To make her think it is something she will want to keep private.” He tapped the bottom of the screen, pressing the Send button.
“What are you going to do to her when she comes home?” Because the man was right, Gabe knew. His mom would hurry home. She would be distracted. Worried. What would she be imagining? That he had been suspended at school? That he had taken some kind of bad drug?
“It is a sad story, really. A story about a boy who becomes addicted to steroids. You know what steroids make people do? They can make them get angry. Very angry. And so one day this boy snaps. He lies in wait and kills his family members one by one as they come home. And finally he turns the gun on himself.
“Then I will go to all your applications. What shall I say? ‘I can’t take it anymore’? ‘It’s all over’? ‘They are better off now’? ‘I’m so sorry for what I have done’? Or maybe something that sounds more angry or crazy. Perhaps—‘I am the angel of death’? With a photo of your mother’s body?” He gave Gabe a cold smile, as if pleased with his cleverness.
“They will never figure out where you got the gun, but kids have a way of finding the things they really want, do they not? Just like you figured out how to get steroids even though they are illegal.” He stuck out one Vans-shod foot and regarded it. “And in case I go tracking blood, I am wearing your shoes. The story without words has to match the story I will use your phone to write. That is why you must die last. In case they can tell the order things happened in.”
He picked up a roll of duct tape. Before Gabe could react, the man duct-taped his legs together at the calf. Then he tore off two new strips, which he slapped against Gabe’s mouth.
With dawning horror, Gabe realized that it would work. Even if anyone tried to run, even if they fought back, even if they tried to hide—they would do all those things whether they were running from Gabe or Kenny. The evidence wouldn’t change.
His mom was going to die today. Maybe Eldon and Kali. And of course Gabe himself. And it would all be his fault.
But at least Brooke would be safe. His mom would think Gabe had already picked her up and she wouldn’t go by the daycare. So his little sister wouldn’t die today. He tried to hold on to that thought as the man turned off the light, closed the door, and left Gabe alone on the garage floor.
CHAPTER 48
Mia sat in the hospital waiting room with Charlie and Eli. As soon as the operation to repair the damage to Jiao’s throat was finished, the surgeon was supposed to come out and give them an update on her condition.
At the sound of a tinny chime, she started. It was her phone dinging, signaling a text. She pulled it from her purse.
MOM COME HOME RIGHT AWAY. SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED THAT I NEED TO TELL YOU ABOUT.
What little adrenaline Mia had left flared up. What kind of trouble had her son gotten himself in now? She took a deep breath and tried to tell herself it couldn’t be that bad. A
t least he wasn’t calling her from the police station. Or a hospital. The front of her suit jacket was still stiff with blood from when she had placed her hands on Jiao’s neck, tried to stop the girl from dying.
She must have made a sound because Charlie lifted his head from an old issue of Entertainment Weekly. “What’s wrong?”
She handed over her phone. Charlie read the message and grunted, then handed it back. “Something bad? He’s a teenager. It could mean that he asked a girl out and she said no.”
Eli was looking back and forth between the two of them. She knew he wouldn’t judge her, not after the troubles he had had with Rachel smoking pot. She handed the phone to him.
“Gabe just sent me this.”
Eli read it and then handed back the phone with a quizzical look.
“Things with Gabe have been kind of fraught in the last couple of days,” she explained. “Right now he’s grounded, big-time. Because on Saturday”—part of her still could not believe what she was about to say was true—“I found steroids in his backpack.”
Eli’s eyes widened. “Gabe is using steroids? Those can have some pretty serious side effects.”
Mia bit back on her impulse to snap at him. “Which is why I’m treating it seriously. As you know”—she underlined the word you with her tone of voice—“it’s impossible to police a kid twenty-four/seven.”
Deciding not to say anything more, Mia called Gabe’s phone. But there was no answer.
When it went to voice mail, she said, “Gabe—can you call me back? I need to know more about what’s going on.”
A million possibilities ran through her mind. Had he been expelled? What could be so bad he had to ask her to come home right away? And could it be that something he defined as bad was not nearly so bad after all? Had he gotten in another fight with Eldon? Her breath caught. Was it possible he had hurt Eldon? Mia called Kali, but again got nothing but voice mail. Then she remembered that Kali had had a doctor’s appointment late in the afternoon and that Eldon was going with her. She decided not to leave a message. Kali already had enough on her plate.
A new, even more terrifying thought seized her. Had something happened to Brooke? Was Gabe so young, so panicked, that he would text Mia rather than call 911? She pictured Brooke cart-wheeling down the stairs. Lying unmoving at the bottom. She knew she was assuming the worst, that she was conjuring nightmares from fifteen simple words. Then again, earlier today she had watched a girl try to kill herself with a pen.
Before she hit the speed dial for Rocking Horse Preschool, she relived what had happened. It still confused her. Jiao and Kwong had been talking fast, their words running over each other. The thing was, Mia had thought she heard Jiao say two words she knew. Kenny Zhong.
But she had checked with both Eli and Charlie afterward. They hadn’t heard it. And surely Charlie would have picked up on it.
Kwong/Kenny Zhong—said fast, one could sound like the other. Or Jiao could have said something else entirely.
“What did she say to you?” she had demanded of Kwong after the ambulance had taken Jiao away. “Right before she did it?”
Kwong was trembling. Blood freckled her broad face. She had screamed, “Sorry!” over and over as they scrambled to save Jiao’s life. She was still clutching the bloody pen she had plucked from the girl’s throat.
“She was saying that she was afraid and she did not want to testify. She was saying she should join Dandan.”
“And she did not say anything about Kenny Zhong?”
“Who?” Kwong’s expression didn’t change.
“Kenny Zhong.”
Kwong’s flat eyes met her gaze without wavering. “No. Who is that?”
Mia answered her question with a question. “Then what were you telling her?”
“That there was hope. That life was worth living.” The other woman sighed heavily. “That’s when she pulled the pen from my hand.”
Mia still wasn’t certain she believed her. But the conversation between Kwong and Jiao hadn’t been recorded by the jail because any conversation that involved Jiao’s lawyer was privileged. And she and Charlie hadn’t recorded it because they were trying to keep Jiao safe. They only had Kwong’s word for what had been said in the interview room. And maybe Jiao’s, once she regained consciousness.
Now she pressed the Call button beside the name of the preschool.
“Rocking Horse. This is Sarah.”
“Hey, this is Mia Quinn. I was just wondering if you were there earlier when Gabe picked up Brooke?” She would ask about his demeanor. If he had said anything.
“Actually, he hasn’t yet. He said he was going to be running late today and that he wouldn’t pick her up until close to close.” Sarah added pointedly, “Which is, like, only seventeen minutes from now.”
Rocking Horse charged a dollar a minute for any parent who was later than six. It didn’t matter if traffic was terrible or the car had broken down. The staff had heard all the excuses before. You could still say them, but sooner or later you would also be opening your wallet.
Why had Gabe said he would pick Brooke up late? And why hadn’t he? Stomach churning, Mia called his phone again. And left another message. “I guess I’m going to have to pick up your sister. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Please call me back and let me know what’s going on.” She hesitated and then said in a rush, “I’m really worried, Gabe.”
“Let me go with you,” Charlie said after she pressed the button to disconnect and started to put on her coat. Eli held the back of the collar so she could slip her arms into the sleeves.
“No, that’s okay, Charlie. This is probably something he wants to stay in the family. He already felt like you were taking on too big of a role on Saturday when you talked to him about the steroids. He kept telling me afterward that you’re not his dad.”
Charlie shrugged, seeming unruffled. “Gabe’s right about that, of course. But with Scott dead, your son probably needs a bunch of dads, not none. And if something is really wrong, Mia, you’ll want someone else there.”
She did not want to think about how bad it could be. “How about this?” She looked from Charlie to Eli. “I’ll call one or both of you if I get home and think it’s something I can’t handle. And meanwhile, can you two stay here and let me know what you hear about Jiao?”
“Deal,” Charlie said, and Eli nodded.
She got to Rocking Horse a minute before close. Brooke was the last child there. Saying hello and good-bye to Sarah, buttoning Brooke’s coat, and putting her in her car seat kept a tiny bit of Mia’s anxiety at bay.
But it all came roaring back once she was in the car again, her damp hands sliding on the wheel.
CHAPTER 49
After Mia left, Eli looked over at Charlie, trying not to let his distaste show. The guy had never been a parent. He had only been a husband, and he clearly hadn’t been any good even at that, since he had also been divorced three times.
“So Mia had you talk to Gabe after she found the steroids?” Eli felt a pinch of jealousy. Was she already trying Charlie out for the role of father to her kids?
Charlie shot him a look, and Eli guessed that the other man knew exactly how he felt. “I happened to be there when she found them. So I asked if I could talk to Gabe, man to man, about how they can affect you. I figured she wouldn’t know those kinds of details, and even if she looked that stuff up on the Internet, it would be pretty awkward talking to her kid about it.” He snorted. “Hey, it was awkward for me.”
And how exactly did Charlie know these details? Was it from personal experience? Eli only said, “How did he take it?”
Charlie’s mouth twisted. “Gabe was angry. Really angry. I just hope that underneath he was listening. You know what it’s like at that age. Everything’s a big deal. Everything’s life or death. It’s all the best of times, or the lowest, and there’s nothing in between.”
That was certainly true for Rachel, and she wasn’t taking steroids. “Steroids mess with you
r emotions, don’t they?” Eli asked.
“For sure. Mostly they can make you irrationally angry. They can also make you pretty depressed. Even suicidal.”
That gave Eli pause. It sounded like Mia was right to be worried. What if Gabe had overreacted to something small that still seemed overwhelming in the moment that it happened? Teens were so impulsive. Would Gabe kill himself rather than face it—or face his mom?
The shiny silver doors to the surgical area opened automatically, and an African American woman dressed in green scrubs walked between them. She came over to them. “Are you two the cop and the lawyer?” she asked. A surgical mask dangled around her neck.
This was the surgeon, Eli realized as Charlie nodded, not the scrub nurse. How often did he only see what he expected to see?
“How’s Jiao doing?” he asked.
“We had to give her five pints of blood, but she’ll make it.” The doctor touched her own throat. “She’s going to have some pretty significant scarring on her neck. And the pen nicked her vocal cords, so her voice will probably be affected, but hopefully not too much. She might end up sounding a little husky. We’re just lucky that she’s so young and that her underlying level of health is pretty good.”
“When will we be able to talk to her?” Charlie asked.
The surgeon pursed her lips. “Not for a while. We want her not only medically stable but psychologically stable. Which means it definitely won’t be tonight. She’s still sedated and won’t be waking up from the anesthesia for several hours. We’ll need to get an interpreter in tomorrow and assess her medical state.”
“Do me a favor,” Charlie said, “and make sure you don’t use the one we did. Her name was Kwong something. She freaked out when this happened. She was pretty useless. And I don’t want her around Jiao, reminding her that she almost died.”
“I can imagine it was pretty intense,” the surgeon said. “A girl shoving a pen in her own neck—hopefully that’s something you never see in your life, or you only see once and never again. But I’ll make a note of it. No interpreter or visitor named Kwong.”