Sin and Tonic

by Rhys Ford

  Susan Wong-Lee carried herself the exact same way as Kiki Morgan, leaving Kane with no doubt as to her place in the world and the influence she wielded.

  “Your mother could take her,” Kel whispered behind Kane. “It would be ugly, but Brigid could take her down.”

  Kane pretended not to hear his friend and instead took a few steps toward the woman and held his hand out. “I’m Senior Inspector Kane Morgan and this is my partner, Inspector Kel Sanchez. We are very happy you could take the time out to meet with us.”

  “Let me be perfectly clear before we get started. I wasn’t going to bother until there was a warrant or court order, but my lawyer advised me to be cooperative if contacted.” She glanced down at Kane’s hand, then back up at his face. “He believes that since I have nothing to hide, I should try to minimize my involvement with the police and assist in any way I can, on the assumption that once I’ve told you everything I know about the situation with my brother, that you will go away and leave my family alone.”

  “Ma’am, I cannot promise you that we will go away,” Kane countered. “But I can promise you that if you are up front with us, this will go easier and smoother than if you are not. At this time we do not suspect you of being involved with the recent incidents your brother appears to have orchestrated, but we do have a few questions. We hope not to take up too much of your time.”

  “I hope not. I am a very busy woman, and there is still a lot for me to do today.” Wong-Lee paused as her majordomo returned to the room carrying a tray with coffee cups and a carafe. Turning to her servant, she motioned toward the coffee table next to Kel. “You could put that down there, but I don’t imagine these gentlemen will be here long enough to drink an entire cup. We will make this quick so I can go back to my life and they can go back to doing whatever it is they need to do. Inspectors, please make yourself comfortable.”

  The look Kel gave him was a telling one, and Kane didn’t need to say anything to know his partner felt the same visceral response to Susan Wong-Lee as he did. Kel’s eyebrows flicked up, a silent question if he and Kane were going to follow the game plan they’d set in the car, so Kane nodded, assuring him they should continue.

  Kel sat, then thanked the servant for his coffee, refusing cream and sugar, then waited patiently as Kane was served. Wong-Lee took her coffee the same as Kel, cradling her cup as she dismissed her majordomo. She took a deliberate sip, her control over the situation in conversation firmly in her grasp. Kane let his cup rest on the table, leaning forward to minimize the space between them.

  He wasn’t doing it to establish intimacy or build a connection. While useful behaviors to have for interviewing, they wouldn’t work on Wong-Lee. She’d been studying their body language probably from the moment they’d gotten off the elevator, more than likely hearing their exchange in the foyer. She was combative in her attitude. Kane knew they wouldn’t be able to get around it, so instead he was going to have to dig for the slender threads of vulnerability hidden behind the hard carapace she’d built up over the years.

  “When was the last time you spoke with your brother?” Kane asked as Kel began to take notes. “Either in person or on the phone? Perhaps even email?”

  “My brother has been incarcerated for over twenty-five years.” Her laugh was bitter and short. “Technology is beyond him. He wouldn’t know how to send email. And to answer your question, the last time I spoke with him was when he contacted me after being released. He told me he was dying of cancer and that he had a few things he wanted to clear up before he passed.”

  Kane studied her briefly, then asked, “Can you elaborate?”

  “He wanted to apologize for trying to have me killed.” Her reply was tight and terse, her lips flattening. “I am assuming that the DEA is like most federal agencies and has not shared everything about my brother or what he had done.”

  “We do know that you were placed into federal protection and then you refused to stay in,” Kel said. “You are not bound by any agreement with the feds, so if there is anything you would like to share with us, we would be more than happy to listen.”

  “Inspector Sanchez and I suspect that you were unwilling to let your son become a target.” Kane shifted back on the cushion, opening up the space between them. “You knew that if your brother tried to kill you, he would go after Adam next. Just like he is going after the son of a woman who used to work for him. What we are trying to figure out is what is driving this murder spree he is on and what we can do to stop it. We’re not going to play games with you. We all know you are aware of what is happening in Chinatown, and while we can only speculate about how involved your brother is, you probably are very much attuned to how he fits into this. Our sole focus is to prevent him from killing any more innocent people.”

  She leaned back in her chair, and for the first time Kane saw a glimmer of humanity in her cold, hard eyes. Cocking her head, she studied them, her gaze flicking back and forth, and something must have convinced her of their sincerity, because when she leaned forward, the brittle mask she’d worn fell off. Her face changed, a subtle peeling away of ice and draconian haughtiness. What remained was a woman who wore a few hard years on her body and battled to shape her world.

  “I knew he went after one of the prostitutes who used to work for him,” she admitted softly. “It didn’t make sense until one of my employees decided working for my brother was more preferable than working for me. Danny still has a few men who are loyal to him, but they are older and not as sharp as they used to be.”

  “Was one of those men Rodney Chin?” Kane asked.

  “Yes. Rodney abandoned his position to fall in with Danny. And look at what happened to him.” She tilted her chin, the angles of her face sharpening as the light played across her features. “Danny is like a spoiled child, and instead of taking the time he has left to him and living well, he is rolling in hatred and revenge. I left federal protection because of my son. I knew if I did not raise out of myself, he would turn out exactly like my brother. As it is, I have to keep a very tight control over how our family does business so we do not fall into the same trap as Danny, thinking we are invincible and above the law.”

  “What revenge is he looking for?” Kane had a feeling he knew the answer, but he needed to hear Wong-Lee confirm it. “And why would he—or anyone else—kill Rodney Chin?”

  “It is very simple if you know all the pieces of the game.” Her smile was nearly reptilian, but with a glimmer of warmth. “Danny wants to get to the man who put him in jail. There is someone who got away with what he did back then, and now that Danny is out and causing trouble, it threatens him. Rodney Chin was killed to tell Danny to back off, but there are a couple of men from back then who would go that far. Danny doesn’t care, but I do, because if he does not stop and these men feel as if what he’s doing will bring them down, they could turn their attention to me and my son. That is something I cannot have. I have not come this far only to have my idiotic brother get me killed.”

  Kane took a second, then asked, “Who is the man Danny feels is responsible for him going to prison?”

  “It was one of the DEA agents on the case, the one Danny gave one of the Thai whores to. He was the one closest to Danny, and my brother knew that is who betrayed him. I have no quarrel with that man. My brother is a monster and he likes nothing better than to play with people before he kills them. He needed to be stopped. But there were quite a few people on the police force who made a lot of money covering for Danny.” Her fingernails clicked against her cup as she reached for it, a nervous chittering across the painted porcelain curve. “I don’t know which one it would be, but I’m guessing the man who killed Rodney Chin was a cop who used to work for Danny. That’s who is afraid Danny will get to the agent and expose him.”

  “We have a few details of the case, but I’d like to hear who you think it is Danny is trying to kill. There were several men who Danny paid special attention to. I cannot rule out any of them as being his target.” Kane
handed her a napkin, not commenting on the dribble of liquid she’d gotten on her fingers when she picked up her cup. “It will go a long way toward knowing who we have to focus on. And the sooner we can get your brother contained, the safer your family will be.”

  “That is the only reason I agreed to speak with you,” she admitted, her voice breaking, and she looked away, her mask sliding back into place. “There was a man Danny admired. He was hard and controlled, everything Danny wanted to be. Said he reminded him of an assassin or an international spy, that is how Danny saw him. We should’ve known he was a DEA agent, but he was too rough around the edges, too much of everything a man should be. He refused to say that he worked for Danny, calling himself a partner. He challenged Danny at nearly every turn, but everything always went how he said it would go, so Danny began to trust him more and more. Of course, now we know the DEA was manipulating things so he would gain Danny’s trust.”

  “You give a man that kind of trust and he betrays you, that would anger most men,” Kel said. “So your brother nursed this anger for over two and a half decades, and now that he is out, he wants to hurt this man as much as he was hurt.”

  “If there’s one thing Danny hates, it is looking like a fool, and this man made him look like the biggest of fools,” she replied. “Danny’s power began to unravel once he went into prison, but he got one of his cops to do one last job for him, and that was to kill the whore he’d given to the agent. You see, he left before he found out his woman was pregnant, and it might have taken Danny a couple of years to get it done, but he had her murdered. I always assumed her child died as well, but as we both know, that was not the case. So if my brother cannot get to Agent Liam Stewart, he will kill his son instead—and hopefully before either the cancer or one of those cops gets him first.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Miki, whispering: So I just light the fu—candle?

  Kane, chuckling: Yes. And I appreciate you not swearing. I’d have to answer to that priest over there. He’s eyeing us.

  Miki: Of course I’m not going to swear. It’s a da—church.

  Kane: And now he’s heading over here.

  Miki: Jesus, why? They’re like the fucking cops. It’s like a goddamned soul-trap in this place.

  Kane, with a heavy sigh: Well, at least you tried. Light the candle and, if you want to, say a prayer for your mom. In your head. And just so you know, Father Ignacio told me a long time ago that God doesn’t care if you swear in your prayers.

  Miki: God gets what He fucking gets. I just want those bastards up there to take care of my mom.

  —St. Patrick’s, San Francisco

  MIKI OPENED the door before the knock. It wasn’t that he knew instinctively she’d arrived. No, he knew she’d come because he heard her heels on the cement sidewalk outside, a full circle of percussion raps he’d first experienced years ago. This time he was ready for her. This time he knew her fiery personality and brash attitude were weapons she would use to defend him rather than hurt him. Miki now saw the bits of her she gave Kane, just like he recognized Donal in him. So this time, when a pair of red stilettos beat on the floor like the drums of war, they were summoning the heavens to come protect him—a son she found rather than a son she’d borne.

  She’d come cloaked in motherhood and strength, a few years on her face, lines earned from laughter and worry, but her dark green eyes, so much like Quinn’s, were crystal clear and bright. Despite her diminutive stature, there was no denying she’d descended from warriors. It was a warm day, so she’d dressed casually, a pair of worn blue jeans and a beat-up Crossroads Gin shirt he’d given her from the first package Edie sent them, but with her shoulders thrown back and her chin tilted up to meet his gaze, she might as well have been wearing a full set of armor and carrying a flaming sword.

  He didn’t know what to say. Thank you seemed too meek, an insipid mewl whispered over a bowl of porridge handed across a table. There had to be stronger words, but he couldn’t find them. Instead Miki stood there, staring down at Brigid Morgan with his tongue tied by complicated emotions and simple confusion.

  She took care of anything he might have fucked up saying by wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a hug so tight he could feel it envelop the broken child he sheltered inside of himself.

  His arms always seemed like they were a second too late to respond, but eventually he slung them around her, cradling the small birdlike woman into his chest. There was power in her grip, but her body was so tiny, so delicate, that he was almost afraid to hold her too tightly.

  She took care of that too.

  Threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, Brigid pulled him even closer, until his face was buried into the curve of her neck and his shoulders ached with the strain of bowing forward. Miki didn’t care if the pain in his spine crippled him, because nothing felt as wonderful as a hug from his mother.

  “I’ve got you, Miki boy,” she murmured. “No matter what you find in that package today, you will always find me here. Because you’re one of my boys.”

  Tears shouldn’t choke a man. It made no sense for a strong emotion to close off his air supply, but Miki struggled to breathe around the expanding thickness in his chest and throat. He couldn’t tell if it was sorrow or joy or if it never mattered what was stealing away his reason. All he knew was that Brigid holding him in front of the home he’d made with Kane, Damien, and Dude transformed something—no, healed something—he’d struggled to hold together for way too long.

  “I wanted to wait for you,” Miki mumbled into the shelter of her hug. Her riot of flame-hued hair smelled of berries and some kind of tea, and the earring poking into his cheek felt like a knot, its edges scratching at his skin, but he was reluctant to pull away. “Damien’s inside. So is Dude, but I don’t think he gives a shit.”

  “I’m sure the dog cares, just in his own way,” she said with a laugh. “How about if I make us a pot of tea, and you can decide if you want to open that today.”

  “It’s going to have to be today. It’s already been a lifetime,” Miki murmured, finally letting her go. He let his hands run down her arms until he found her fingers, squeezing lightly before releasing them. “I know she’s dead. Kane doesn’t want to say it, but she is. He thinks my father is still out there, but I don’t know if that really matters either. I’ve got you and Donal. What more do I need?”

  “Miki love, you don’t need anything more,” Brigid replied, her arm around his waist. “But perhaps he needs you. Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, yes? For right now, let us go meet the woman who gave you to me. I would like to know her.”

  “Suppose she’s like Forest’s mom or worse?” The words were easier to say because she was touching him, but the reality of his childhood lingered, a spreading stain on his every thought. “I’m scared to find out stuff I can’t handle.”

  There were too many possibilities—too many realities—and most of them were nightmares and tragedies embroidered by his own experiences. He wanted to romanticize the woman who’d given him life, but from what he knew about her situation and the circumstances surrounding her, there was little chance for a happy beginning. Especially since there hadn’t been a happy ending.

  “I can’t not think the worst of her,” he admitted. “The asshole who is trying to kill me now, the fucker who put this tattoo on me, probably killed her just like he killed the woman who was trying to get this package to Edie. I could have talked to her friend instead of finding out about her through a bunch of papers and photographs, but I can’t because of one fucking asshole with a small dick and a tiny brain. But there’s always the part of me that wonders if she even cared about me.”

  “Let’s see what we find, and if it is the worst you imagined, then we’ll deal with it.” Brigid rested her head against his arm as they walked through the front door. “If she was a saint, we will deal with that too. But I think you will find she was a woman who did the best that she could do, and that is
all we can ask of her now.”

  “And my father?” He held back, not wanting to drag the conversation with them to the living space where Damien sat slung across the couch. “What if he knew and didn’t give a fu—”

  She stopped him before he could go any further, tightening her grip on his arm. Miki looked away, catching Damien’s attention, and his brother frowned, about to get up off the couch when Miki shook his head no to stop him. They were close enough for D to hear them, but there was nothing he wouldn’t share with the young man who’d given him his life back.

  Still, Brigid dropped her voice to a low whisper as she cupped Miki’s face and said, “You will need to stop borrowing trouble. If any man has the gift of being your father and is not proud to be so, then he is not truly a man. Donal thanks God and the stars for Kane bringing you into our lives. You are a treasure, and I’ll not have you worry about someone who may or may not be smart enough to realize that. We’ll find what we find and go from there.”

  “Okay,” Miki murmured through the press of her hands against his cheeks. “But if he was an asshole, I’m not going to go begging after him.”

  “You wouldn’t be my Miki if you did,” Brigid said, then arched up to leave a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Now let’s go meet your mother.”

  An open bottle of Jack Daniel’s was waiting for him on the crate in front of the couch. The package he’d gotten from Edie lay next to the whiskey bottle’s cap, and Miki glanced at Brigid, unsure about what she’d say about either the alcohol or Damien putting it there.

  “Figured if there was ever a time you’d want a bottle of Jack next to you, it would be now.” Damien grabbed the neck of the bottle, then held it out for Miki. “Unless you want some of that fancy Irish shit our guys keep bringing into the house.”