Legacy of Fear

by Ryshia Kennie

  “But what if he didn’t know whether she was here, maybe he’s just guessing. Or maybe this was the last place he saw her. Or maybe he was sure of nothing until after Fu died.” She laid her fork down. “Or maybe Fu knew before she died. She sent her sworn sister to Beijing—why?”

  “I suggest we stop speculating and get back to the hotel so you can make that call in private.” Max dug in his pocket for money. “I’ll get it.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait outside.”

  He nodded, and a few minutes later stepped outside to join her. He saw Andra immediately at the corner of the building, but it was her worried look that had him hurrying over to her.

  “What’s going on?” He scanned the street even as he asked.

  “I think I’m being watched, Max.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She moved her head slightly, indicating her right. “I’ve seen that man before. Rather tall, thin, maybe thirtyish. Doesn’t look fully Asian—maybe a touch of European, Caucasian of some sort anyway. Do you see him?”

  “I do, a quarter of a block away. And he just turned his head, but before that he was looking this way.”

  “I can’t tell you where I’ve seen him but the last few minutes he’s been paying undue attention to me.”

  Max stayed Andra with his hands on her shoulders. His breath was hot and seductive on her ear and for a moment she allowed herself to sway back.

  “Work with me,” he whispered. “C’mon. Take my hand and look at me like I’m the most breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen.”

  “Thing?” She smiled. “Max. You’re not good at this but I see where you’re going.” Purposefully her hip played easily against his and her hand slipped into his. “C’mon, Max, if we’re going to do this let’s do it good.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Do you have a plan?”

  “Still working on it,” he whispered back and kissed her. He bent her over his arm, his eyes shifting over her head watching for trouble.

  When he straightened, he saw a cab out of the corner of his eye as bemused pedestrians skirted around them. But the man was still there, standing and watching for a long tense moment before he turned and walked away.

  “He’s gone,” he said, but his hand still kept a grip on Andra’s elbow.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No more sure than you on whether or not he was watching us in the first place.”

  “Let’s walk and see what happens,” she suggested. She glanced over her shoulder and prodded him with an elbow. “Don’t look back but he’s there about a quarter of a block behind us.”

  A feeling of unease slipped over Max. “We should get back to the hotel.”

  “And possibly have him follow us there?”

  They walked slowly, as if time meant nothing, until they rounded a vegetable stand. With the bins of vegetables standing between them and the street, they were temporarily screened.

  “We’ve got to keep moving.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I know it,” she whispered.

  “Don’t look back and keep walking.”

  “I have an idea.” Andra pushed hard against the bin beside her and it toppled over, vegetables rolling everywhere. The shopkeeper began to shout and pedestrians stopped to gawk at the ensuing commotion. Andra yanked Max around the corner, where they flagged a cab.

  “Good move. I just hope we didn’t injure any of his produce,” Max said as they slipped inside and gave hurried instructions to the driver.

  He looked behind as the cab pulled away from the curb. “It’s clear.”

  The cab swerved and Max grabbed the headrest as the cab veered tightly around the corner. “Good God.” His body leaned into Andra and it took an effort to keep from losing his balance and toppling completely into her. Around them horns blared.

  Andra straightened up abruptly and her shoulder bumped Max.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” She leaned forward and spoke to the driver in Cantonese. The conversation was short-lived, as the driver returned his attention back to the road and basically told Andra to let him do the driving.

  “That wasn’t productive.”

  “You’re not kidding,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Apparently it was just his way of avoiding an accident. She looked behind her as the cab slowed and they turned off the busy intersection and into the drive that fronted the hotel.

  In their room Andra flopped down on the bed while Max sank into an oversize chair.

  “Unbelievable.” Andra pushed herself up on an elbow. “My heart is still pounding. I don’t know what that guy was about but . . . he shouldn’t have scared me like that. Not considering everything else we’ve encountered. Except I can’t quit thinking about what he might have wanted. Was he after Fu’s secret or . . .”

  “Maybe it was our imagination,” Max suggested. “There’s a possibility he really wasn’t following us.”

  “You think?”

  “No.” A furrow appeared between his brows and he rubbed his temple as if that would provide inspiration. “I think we need to find new accommodations.”

  “I think you’re right. What about Le?”

  “I presume he’ll have no trouble finding us. Any more than he did before.”

  “You may be frighteningly right. The man is resourceful.”

  Outside a shadow flitted across the window as pigeons flew from the ledge.

  The room phone rang and they both stared at it. The phone rang twice, then three times before Max picked it up.

  “I understand,” he said. “We’d considered . . . No.” There was silence as Max only listened. “Look, how did you find . . .” He gripped the phone, staring at the receiver in frustration. “The bastard hung up.”

  “Le?” Andra asked without surprise.

  “He wants us to change hotels immediately. He’s already made the arrangements.”

  “I bet he’s bugged this place.”

  “It’s the only explanation short of divine intervention.”

  Andra shuddered. “I think we’d better get going.” She stood up. “But first we have to make that phone call and see if we’ve found our lost girl.”

  • • •

  Bao had been more cunning than Le expected. He had thought, planned even, that Bao would be dead long before this. He looked at his wrist, where his latest acquisition, an eighteen-caret, rose-gold Cartier watch, gleamed with molten decadence. It had cost more than many people made in a year but it was only the time that he was interested in.

  His thoughts shifted and his hand brushed the revolver, his index finger stroking its smooth surface. Bao had to be stopped and the only way he saw possible was death. It was either Bao or his daughter, and given that option there was no choice.

  He pulled out a stick of gum, unwrapped it and popped the stick in his mouth. He folded the tinfoil neatly before putting both the gum pack and the tinfoil into his pocket. It was time to break one of his promises to Fu. He would have to kill someone she had once loved.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “She’ll meet us,” Andra said as she put the cell phone down.

  “Fu’s daughter.” Max shook his head. “Despite everything it seems so improbable that posting the doll on Twitter worked.”

  “And so quickly.”

  They had agreed before she made the call that the anonymity of Beijing’s Summer Palace amid a backwash of tourists would be a safe place for a lone woman to meet them. She wouldn’t feel threatened with people around and yet there would be space for them to talk privately.

  “How do we check her foot? The tattoo is our only confirmation of her identity.”

  “I don’t know. I suppose we’ll have to set up a second meeting. It’s almost a given that we won’t get the evidence we need at the Summer Palace. She probably won’t be taking off her shoes in the middle of a public place or at first meeting,” Andra said.

  “No, but maybe she’s not who we want and th
ere won’t be any need for her to verify anything.”

  “Maybe. She says she was given up as a child and that doll was what was left behind at the orphanage.” She paused and met Max’s eyes with heart-wrenching sincerity. “I think she’s genuine. Whether she’s the woman we’re looking for or not, I don’t think she’s playing games. I know that’s hard to tell from the phone but I had a good feeling speaking to her.”

  Max stood up. “What time have you arranged this meeting for?”

  “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “We have plenty of time to strategize, find ourselves a place for the second meeting, should it come to that.”

  “I think it will, Max. Ana’s tech emailed again and said they’ve received thousands of additional hits on that picture. But only a few people bothered to contact him. Other than a couple of kids he was easily able to screen out, so far she’s the only one that has any validity.” She pressed her finger to her chin, causing the small cleft there to deepen. “It’s not like we offered anything.”

  “The beauty of the whole plan—offer nothing, evidence in itself that she may be genuine. The picture you posted is intriguing but really just an old doll . . .”

  “So I’m guessing she’s on the up and up. Shall we get this changing hotels thing under way?” Andra asked as she threw her few clothes into the suitcase and collected her scattered toiletries from the bathroom. “We need to get out of here unnoticed as Le suggested, but the fire escape is rather a shaky proposition.”

  “What are you saying? It’s unusable?”

  She bent down and kissed him, and the warm scent of strawberries and something light yet rich that was distinctly her drifted around him.

  “Usable.”

  “So how do we do this? Do we take the fire escape from here?”

  “Nope. We’re going straight through the hotel lobby.”

  “Are you out of your mind? I thought we were sliding out of here unnoticed.”

  “Completely unexpected. Thus casting no suspicion, in case we are being watched.”

  “Makes sense.” He picked up the suitcase. “Except . . .”

  She arched a brow at him.

  “How are we going to slide through the lobby as if we’re just going out for the evening carrying this?”

  “That’s where the fire escape comes in handy.”

  “Now you’ve lost me.”

  “We take the elevator to the second floor,” Andra said patiently, “and drop everything on the fire escape.” She held up her hand to stop Max’s obvious question. “From there we go straight down through the main lobby and then around to the back. I propped the fire escape door open.”

  “When did you do that?”

  “When I went to the ice machine.”

  “You ran fourteen flights of stairs?”

  “And back.”

  He motioned with his hand in a half-assed salute. “After you, my dear Andra.”

  As she swept past him he could only utter, “Amazing.”

  “I’d kiss you for that if we weren’t in a rush.”

  The elevator was empty and despite its aged rattling, they arrived quickly on the second floor, where they emerged into the quiet hallway. A short walk to the end of the hall and Andra opened the fire escape, placing the suitcase carefully against the concrete wall. Then they hurried back to the elevator. It was a quick ride to the lobby and a nod at the desk clerk before they emerged outside, where day was already fading into dusk.

  Max climbed the stairs to the second floor to retrieve the suitcase and Andra closed the fire exit door quietly behind him.

  And then they took one of the most convoluted cab rides of his life, involving three cabs and a tour of much of Beijing. The vignettes of life seemed a repetition of previous days: the woman peddling on the old-fashioned woman’s bike in business dress with her old-fashioned briefcase in the basket, obviously heading home after a day at the office; the old woman pushing her trinket-laden trolley home after a long day; and through it all the luxury cars that swept around the small imports, the transports and buses that lumbered heavily through the traffic, all of it maneuvering around the never-ending bikes.

  But when they stepped out of the cab twenty minutes later, the sights of Hong Kong were immediately forgotten as they saw that Le was waiting for them.

  “You have found her,” he said but didn’t move from where he lounged with predatory ease against the glossy edge of the limousine. He held the back door open.

  “No,” Max began to refuse the invitation.

  Le’s easy expression didn’t change but the outline of the handgun at his hip was clear. “It wasn’t a request. Get in.”

  And in the space of a second the gun was no longer an indirect threat. Instead it prodded Max’s back. He was shoved unceremoniously inside and landed with a crack of his elbow against the opposite door. Andra scrambled in behind him and Le slid in and sat on the opposite seat.

  “You have found our daughter,” Le said. He tucked the gun beneath his jacket and then held up his hand, palm facing them and staying anything they might say. “Yes, I know of her but I learned of her too late.”

  “And you chose now to reveal your paternity?” Max asked dryly. What did Le want? Was he just protecting them to better help Fu or was there something darker?

  “I choose what I want when I want.” Le looked at Andra. “You have found her?”

  “Possibly,” Andra replied. “Fu is gone but what about her husband? He was the child’s father, was he not?”

  “Andra?” Max put a hand on her thigh.

  “Not biologically but . . .”

  “He was never her father,” Le said with ice in his voice. He stared ahead as silence settled deep and troubled between them. Despite the heavy Beijing traffic, they were buffered and it seemed like it was only the three of them, static in time and space. “Despite what he did to our child, I think I would have let Fu’s husband live if he had shown some mercy with her.” He raised his hands, palms up. “When I learned that he had disposed of our daughter, despite what I knew Fu’s wishes would be, there was no choice. And when I heard that he had abused Fu, I could not allow him to die by any hand but mine.” His eyes met Max’s, diamond hard, almost cruel. “You will keep silent of this.”

  “Murder?” Andra whispered.

  “We won’t tell the authorities.” Max looked at Andra and she solemnly nodded. “You have my word.”

  Le snorted softly. “The authorities? I have no fear of them.” The tight planes of his face seemed more pronounced in the dim interior. He pulled a pack of gum from his pocket and took out a stick. “I will have your back when you meet her.” His dark eyes narrowed. “She will know nothing of me, on this you must give your word.”

  “So you will tell us what you know?” Max asked.

  “I will tell you what you need to know.”

  “And who determines that?”

  “I do,” Le said bluntly. He held up his hand. “There will be no word to our daughter of my existence. I am dead to her.” He began to unwrap the gum, his eyes never leaving theirs. “I will wait to hear all she has to say and what you might need to secure her inheritance.” He tapped on the amber-tinted glass that divided the backseat from the front. “At the hotel, use the name L. Robbins.”

  He opened the door for them to exit and the noise and exhaust filtered into the vehicle. Max hurriedly followed Andra out. They needed no encouragement to leave the dark aura that seemed to surround the man. It was as if the ground had shifted beneath them and the playing field had flipped upside down. He wasn’t sure if they could stray any further off the path they had once called normal—or if they even wanted to.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  That evening Max and Andra were sitting in a crowded restaurant around the corner from their hotel. It was a plain establishment, not unlike the one they had breakfasted in that morning, and busy despite that.

  “We definitely don’t stand out,” Max said grimly as h
e glanced over at tables filled with budget-dressed travelers and then down at his own slightly worn attire.

  Their table was wedged near the kitchen, where servers dodged back and forth. The noise level seemed amplified as cutlery clattered and plates clinked. It was an odd mixture of locals and travelers but the benefit they had both agreed on was that the mix and the high traffic would ensure their anonymity.

  “I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted,” Andra began. “Emotionally more than anything.”

  “I wish I could change that.”

  “I know.” Her attention shifted as a table screeched across the tiled floor as waiters rearranged two tables to accommodate a bigger party.

  “Lacking a touch of ambiance, isn’t it?” He grimaced as a server set down a stack of plates with what seemed like more than a necessary amount of clattering. “I don’t know if this theory of yours about loud, noisy and crowded is that good of a cover. Doesn’t it raise the potential for being seen by someone who knows what we’re about?”

  “And what are we about, Max?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You know darn well what we’re about.” He lowered his voice. “Slipping under the wire.”

  From the kitchen something crashed and raised voices filtered into the dining area. A door slammed. Other diners looked up bewildered—despite the noise of the many diners and the confusion of the large restaurant, this superseded it all.

  Something cracked and echoed through the room.

  Andra lurched from her seat. “What was that?”

  A woman screamed and a waiter dropped the tray of drinks he was carrying. A river of coke mixed with beer, ice and broken glass crept across the carpet.

  Another crack, almost a bang, was followed by another scream.

  “Gunshot?” Max was on his feet even as Andra froze.

  “Impossible.” Andra shivered as the word echoed, and she took in a breath filled with doubt and tinged with dread. They were in way over their heads, and for the first time she considered running far from this place, ditching it all, leaving Asia and waiting for it all to blow over.