Startled, Bobby pressed the muzzled against Chih’s thigh and pulled the trigger. The shot was louder than he expected, and burned right through Chih’s fat. The bullet came out and lodged into a cabinet. Chih howled, and Bobby slammed the butt of the gun into Chih’s face. “Don’t ever mention my brother again. How do you find Jake?”
“Mail drop. Don’t shoot,” he cried, covering his face.
“Address.”
“In my book! On the counter! Under ‘J’!” He began drooling. Bobby opened the book and found Jake’s name with an address on University Avenue. “He lives here?”
“No. Just a mail store. Give the kid a note or send it by mail. All you need is the box number. Jake will pick it up.” He wheezed. “Ah, fuck. I need a hospital.”
Bobby suddenly realized he was in a jewelry store. He looked around. Chih grew quiet.
Then, an alarm began shrieking all over the store. Bobby jumped. He glanced down at Chih and saw that he had a small remote in his hand, like a car alarm keychain. Bobby grabbed the remote and tried to shut it off, but couldn’t understand the symbols. He threw it at Chih. “Turn the fucking thing off!”
“Can’t. Only the police can.”
“Motherfucker!”
He looked wildly around him. The police. He bent towards Chih and aimed the gun at his head. He said, “Too bad. Say hi to my bro.” Chih’s eyes widened, and he started to yell something but Bobby pulled the trigger and shot him through the temple. Chih’s head kicked to one side. Bobby then leaped to the cash register and stopped. Fingerprints. He pressed the buttons with the gun, the tray popped open, and he grabbed all the cash he could. He then unlocked and opened the door, and wiped off his fingerprints. He remembered the light switch and wiped it clean as well. The alarm was still screaming in his ears. He pocketed the money, shoved the gun into the back of his pants, and walked out. The gun was hot, and felt like it belonged there, against the small of his back. He saw a couple across the street watching him. He turned away and hurried around the block. The wad of cash in his pocket dug into his leg. He had Chih’s address book in his hand, and looked through it as he casually crossed the street, heading for the underground bus station.
19
Jake visited his brother at work. This, it seemed, was a mistake, because as soon as he told the receptionist who he was, and Eugene hurried down the hall, Jake sensed something was wrong. Eugene already looked harried and it was only noon. His tie askew, his hair mussed, Eugene blinked rapidly as he took in the sight of Jake standing there. Jake waved. “Hey.”
“What’s up? Something at the apartment?” Eugene asked.
“No. I just dropped by to see if you wanted to get some lunch.”
Eugene paused. “Lunch?”
“Don’t you eat?”
“How’d you know where the office is?”
“Your business cards are all over the apartment. Should I leave?” He looked around. ManageSoft took up half the third floor of this office building in the Financial District, a couple of blocks away from the pier and down the street from Chinatown. Jake had found a bus that dropped him off across the street. He was standing in the main reception area, surrounded by stencilled glass and ultra-modern black furniture; the receptionist with a headset watched both Jake and his brother.
Eugene motioned him over. “I can show you around, but I don’t think I have time for lunch.”
Jake followed him down a narrow carpeted hallway, a few office doors closed, and Eugene waved him into a small office, the view from the window of a larger, grey office building. Eugene checked something on his computer, clicked his mouse, then turned his attention to Jake.
“No lunch?” Jake asked.
“No time. Hey, about last night—”
“Forget it. It’s none of my business.”
“Just that we might have been a little loud.”
“I fell asleep.”
Eugene studied him. “No, you didn’t, but that’s okay. As you heard, it was a stupid fight.”
“Common?”
“Oh, very common.”
Jake glanced at the bookshelves filled with computer manuals. “Nice office.”
“This is where it all happens, where I lose the big bucks.”
“You look tired.”
“I’ve been here since six. My day’s just started.”
“I can go pick up something to eat and bring it—”
A knock at the door and an Asian woman poked her head in, long wavy black hair falling over her eyes. She stopped and looked at Jake. “Oops. Sorry—”
“No, it’s all right,” Eugene said. “Caroline, meet my brother Jake.” Caroline stepped inside and pushed her hair back. Small-framed and wearing a navy blue skirt and jacket, Caroline held out her hand and shook Jake’s. “Hello! I heard you were visiting.” She smiled broadly, and Jake was startled by her friendliness. Was this the one who liked Eugene?
“The houseguest from hell,” Jake said. Her grip was strong, and when she laughed her nose wrinkled. She let go of his hand and leaned against the door. A strand of stray hair fell onto her shoulder. He stared at her legs, then covered this up by kicking imaginary lint off his shoe.
“Aw, shucks, he’s shy,” Caroline said.
Jake smiled, met her eyes. “I’ve never seen any of Eugene’s co-workers.”
“Never?”
“He never visited me before at work,” Eugene said. “This is unusual.”
“Well, here I am,” she said, opening her arms. “The first co-worker. Honored by your presence.”
“I should have visited you a long time ago, Eugene,” Jake said, though he was still smiling at Caroline.
She blushed, and turned to Eugene. “You wanted to see me?”
“Later. Maybe this afternoon.”
“It was nice meeting you,” she said to Jake. “Are you here to see the office?”
“I was trying to take him out to lunch, but no dice.”
“Eugene’s on a diet,” she said.
“I am?” Eugene asked.
“The stress and headache diet,” Caroline said. “Very funny,” Eugene said.
“Eugene can’t, but do you care to join me?” Jake asked Caroline. “Something nearby?”
She hesitated, then grinned. “Oh, really. Lunch? With you?”
“Uh, actually,” Eugene said. “Caroline and I should probably do that meeting now.”
She turned to him, puzzled. “Now?”
Jake looked at her left hand. No ring. Jake shrugged and said to his brother. “All right. I’ll get going. Maybe we can all have lunch some day.”
“That’d be nice,” Caroline said. She turned to Eugene. “I’ll be in my office. Come get me when you want to talk.” She smiled at Jake and left.
Eugene closed the door behind her and said to Jake, “What are you doing?”
“What?”
“Were you hitting on her?”
“Yeah.”
“You can’t hit on my co-workers.”
“Why not?”
“Because…because it’d look bad for me.”
“Is she married? She’s pretty cute.”
“No, she’s not.”
“Not cute?”
He sighed. “Not married. Look, that was very inappropriate.”
Jake studied his brother, and laughed. “Are you jealous?”
“Of course not. It’s just not appropriate to do that kind of thing—”
“Wait a minute. Is this the one who has a crush on you?”
Eugene’s mouth opened, then shut. He stuttered, “What?”
“The one who has the hots for you.”
“What…Where did you…What are you talking about?” He glanced at the closed door, then back at Jake. After a moment he raised his head in understanding. “Ah. Rachel. Have you been talking to Rachel?”
“She mentioned someone had a crush on you.”
“She was kidding. It’s a running joke. Look, I have to get back to work. Maybe later this week—”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” Jake opened the door. “Sorry for the interruption.”
“It’s just that I have a lot going on…”
Jake held up his hand and slipped out. As he shut the door he remembered that graph his brother had made of their father’s moods, and wanted to ask him about it. He opened the door again, and saw Eugene sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. Eugene looked up, embarrassed. “Yes?”
“Sorry,” Jake said. “Just wanted to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
Jake closed the door. He thought he heard his brother sighing. He hurried down the hall. This whole place reeked of zombies.
20
Jake and Bobby Null sat in the stolen car on the street adjacent to the Chuns’ cul-de-sac. It was Sunday. They had just watched Mr. Chun engage the alarm, then drive his wife and teenage son to church. Jake had followed them last week to check Bobby’s claims, and it seemed that everything he had said was correct. The Chuns drove to a Korean church in Bellevue, and stayed for over three hours. Bobby claimed that the second time he had followed them they hadn’t returned home until eight o’clock that evening. Today Jake and Bobby waited for fifteen minutes to make sure the Chuns didn’t return unexpectedly.
“Look at that fucking car,” Bobby had muttered as they drove by in their Lexus.
It was too sunny. Jake didn’t like having to do this without any cover. The only time day-hits were better were in large apartment complexes when everyone was at work and no one knew or cared if a maintenance man was in the building. Jake wasn’t even bothering with a uniform. No one worked Sundays. He’d just have to slip into the backyard and see what happened.
Jake strapped on his waist pack with his tools and two-way radio. After fifteen minutes, he said to Bobby, “Turn on the scanner. You better keep me posted. And it looks like someone’s home in the place next door. Stay alert.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll do it.”
Jake left the car, moving casually towards the house. He didn’t have to rush, but he wanted to get in and out as soon as possible. He hoped there wasn’t a safe. That would complicate everything. Bobby had seen the Chuns leaving their jewelry store with a portable strongbox, and was counting on this as the only defense.
He quickly hopped over the low, wooden backyard fence and began climbing the cypress tree closest to the house. Up here, he was well hidden, and had a direct route to a second-floor, double-hung window. The thick foliage of this tree and the smaller pine near the corner of the yard offered him concealment from the townhouses directly behind the Chun’s house. Jake had considered coming into the back yard through the complex, but didn’t like the large patio windows facing the Chuns’ fence. He would have to walk by someone’s kitchen and hop a fence in plain view.
When he climbed up to the target window, he saw the magnetic sensor on the inside sash; it would go off if he tried to open the window by force. But this was still the easiest way since the windows downstairs had anti-breakage magnetic foil as well as sensors, and the front door was exposed to the street and heavily locked. Both the front and rear doors were alarmed.
“Everything okay?” Bobby radioed.
Jake sighed. The kid was supposed to keep quiet. He picked up the two-way and whispered, “No contact unless there’s a problem. Are you listening to the police scanner?”
“Yeah.”
A thick limb extended up about three feet from the window, ending abruptly, apparently sawed off to give this window more light. But this truncated branch gave him a good position from which to work; he sat on the sawed off portion, his feet against the shingled wall for balance. All right. Here we go. Although he had gone over this dozens of times during the planning stages last week, he wanted to make sure he wasn’t missing a simple solution, an elegant bypass. He reexamined the foil. Alarmed window. Quickest and quietest entry. Disable alarm. No other way. Get to work.
He pulled out his small roll of adhesive tape and, leaving a small strip hanging loosely, taped up a corner. He could’ve used a suction cup to hold the corner in place, but tape was cheaper. His surgical gloves squeaked on the glass. Using a glass cutter, he cut along the side sash in an “L,” using the wood as a guide and pausing only when the grating sound became too loud. Then, while holding the tape, he finished the third side of the triangle, and popped out the piece of glass by pulling on the tape. He left this on the sill.
He took out his mini-electric screwdriver, and began unscrewing the sensor attached to the interior sash. This part of the alarm system was simple: half of the sensor was screwed into the sash, the other half into the frame, each of them next to the other when the window was closed. If the window was opened, separating the two halves of the sensors, the magnet in the sash would no longer be holding the switch in the frame closed, thus opening the circuit and setting off the alarm. He was simply unscrewing the sensor on the interior sash, which he would then leave attached to the switch, but freeing the window.
With the screwdriver he quickly pulled out the screws, and carefully taped the sensor to the switch. Though the window was still locked, opening the butterfly sash catch was just a matter of sticking a strip of sheet metal in between the upper and lower sashes and pushing the lock free. He had done this a number of times on other houses. Most windows weren’t very secure, but second-floor windows were easy. He had even come across second-floor windows that were wide open, with no one home. Those and air-conditioners were a gift. He needed only to push the air-conditioner in, and most people rarely secured them with more than a few screws.
Unlatching the lock, Jake opened the window slowly, keeping an eye on the taped sensor. He wasn’t certain if there were any mercury switches, or how sophisticated an alarm system the Chuns had upstairs, but he knew enough of the ASA first-floor perimeter system—thanks to Chih’s specs—to guess that this was the extent of the security.
As he lifted the window high enough to slide through, he looked inside, checking for motion detectors, but, as he suspected, there was nothing. He turned up his walkie-talkie. Bobby, with the police scanner, had better contact him if there were any police dispatches sent here, just in case Jake had triggered a silent alarm.
He felt a small rush of adrenaline, and slid inside the house.
PART II
21
It was past midnight, and a line of light was still under Jake’s door. Rachel was awake. Shadows moved back and forth—Rachel going to the bathroom, the kitchen—and the TV volume was on low. He heard pages flipping. He put on his pants and walked out, squinting in the light.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” she asked.
He focused. She was curled up on the sofa in paisley silk pajamas. Her philosophy book was open, her pencil pushed behind her ear. He cleared his throat. “I was awake. What’re you up to?”
“Reading. Can’t sleep. Tomorrow’s my last day.”
“I visited Eugene at work.”
“Downtown?” She smiled. “Was little Ms. Cutie there?”
Jake laughed. “Yeah, she was. She was cute.”
Rachel drew back. “Really? Do I detect some interest?”
He said, “Who has time for that? Besides, you know you’ve always been my favorite.”
“One of your many favorites, I’m sure.”
“None like you.” He smiled.
“Oh, dear,” she said, but then her face fell.
“Did I say something? I didn’t mean—”
“No, no. It’s me,” she said. “I was just thinking how I’ve become so serious these days.”
“Must be all that reading,” he said.
“This?” She held up her book.
“What’s it about?”
She waved it away. “You wouldn’t be interested.”
“Tell me. Is that the book that’s been lying around here lately? Philosophy?”
She nodded.
“Tell me some philosophy.”
Shrugging, she flipped a fe
w pages back and read aloud, “Heraclitus postulated that the primary element was fire, making up everything in the world in its different forms through condensation and rarefaction. Fire, also a metaphor for change, reflected his view of the eternal flux occurring around him. ‘We can’t step into the same river twice,’ he wrote.”
Jake said, “Heavy.”
“It’s interesting how they kept searching for explanations, the key to everything.”
“So, this guy thought fire was everything? Even the world?”
“Possibly. I like his idea of everything always changing, fire as a metaphor.”
Jake sat down across from her and asked, “Do you do this a lot? Stay up and read?”
“Lately, yes.”
“Why?”
She said, “Did you know that our cells continually regenerate so that in seven years all of our cells are new; everything has been replaced.”
“Yeah?”
“So change is natural. It’s biological.”
“And you’re changing?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’m so transparent, aren’t I? Drug me if I start whining again.” She put down the book and asked, “Why don’t you keep in touch with Euge?”
“Not much to say.”
“If I had a brother or sister, I’d want to stay connected.”
“Maybe. Our family wasn’t close.”
“I thought when you two were younger…”
Jake said, “Yeah, but we weren’t buddies. I mean, we had to deal with our father.”
“So you move around and occasionally drop in.”
“Occasionally.”
“It must be nice.”
“What?”
“To be so free.”
Jake said, “You can do that.”
“I don’t think so.”
“All you have to do is pack a bag. Bring what you can carry. What’s stopping you?”
She shook her head slowly.
“You’re free to do what you want.”
She smirked. “Have you been reading my books?”
“Don’t need books for that. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“You are so unlike Euge. You know that?”
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