Then I turned to Lei Sun who still had his hands raised, “Snow was worried about you. I guess she should have been,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ve been a bad boy.” But I don’t think he knew what I was saying. He looked confused.
I turned to the two men in Karate gear. They still had their hands up.
“Jump,” I said. There was a fire inside me, burning. And I had to put it out.
They stared at me.
“Jump into the fucking water!” I said. Was I taking it out on them? The fact that I was angry about Maxie? Probably. They didn’t move.
“Jump!” I said, “or that man up there will shoot you!” pointing at Huck.
And they stared over the hull and down into the sea, the water boiling against the pontoon supports and waves throwing the Canyon around like a toy in a bathtub. And there was the rain, and the fog.
“Jump!” I screamed again. One man shook his head.
I nodded at Huck, and the two men stared at the man who was shot, whose blood was running with the water across the deck, and they looked up at Huck who motioned with his alligator gun, and I guess they figured they had a better chance jumping than sticking around with us. So, the man nearest the hull hoisted pulled himself up on the wall, looked down for a few moments and leaped out over the sea, feet first, and he blew out his breath as he did and I watched him hit the water and disappear. I didn’t see him come up again.
The second man, hesitated, then looked at me. I nodded at Huck. Then he did the same. But this guy let out a yell, like he was on a roller coaster. And I watched him hit, and he disappeared into the foam around the pontoons. And already I felt better. Two overboard. One dead.
“Kill the helicopter,” I told Richie and Louise. “I don’t want those clowns climbing the ladder and taking off in this damn thing—if they survive.” The two of them disabled the helicopter, shooting out the tail blades. I figured that Wong would want to check out the product while it was still on board the rig.
“You got any cuffs?” I said to Louise, after she and Richie had wasted the tail of the copter.
“You bet,” she said. “Always.” She pulled out some Tuff-Ties—they’re light, compact and sturdy, made of braided nylon.
“We’re going to deliver them to Uncle Wong,” I said. I was fed up with Wong’s niece.
“What do you wanna do with this guy?” Richie said, staring at the body on the deck.
“Throw him overboard,” I said. “There’s a lot of fish out there and they’re hungry.”
And that’s just what they did.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
The Interview in the Rain
“Let’s get down to the boat,” I said, on the chance that one of the two who went overboard found their way to the Canyon. Huck hurried ahead of us, just in case. Richie and Louise followed him, keeping Li Lang between them. I pushed Lei Sun down ahead of me.
And the rain kept right on, like it would never stop. And the fog—it was denser than before. It must have taken ten minutes or more to navigate the ladder, but finally we boarded. No sign of the two jumpers. No sign of the dead man.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. Then Huck, who had the motors idling, opened the throttle and the three Yamahas churned the water like a giant egg-beater, spinning the boat toward open water. And the Canyon, like a funny car on a thousand-foot run, raced into the rain and mist that was blanketing the Florida Straits.
It was late afternoon, but dark, the nasty weather casting a pall over the water and my mood. After the rig disappeared in the fog, Louise and I took Li Lang and Snow’s boyfriend below. Richie stayed topside with Huck. I had some questions I wanted answered.
We sat together, Louise and I, on one side of the cabin on a wide berth I was able to convert to a couch by pulling down a backrest. Li Lang and Lei Sun were opposite us, Lei Sun sitting on the head—it was covered with a blue leather pillow. Li Lang sat against the hull under a TV attached to the wall above her. It should have been hot in the cabin but a cold front had blown in from Canada—they hate being blamed for our bad weather—bringing temperatures in the low fifties.
Li Lang was sulking.
“Hey,” I said. “Tell me about Jack Hayward.”
“Who?” she said, looking up at me, puzzled. Then she muttered something in Chinese.
“I know you know about him,” I said. “Don’t pretend you don’t.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with his death,” she said in perfect English, continuing to sulk. I looked over at Lei Sun.
“He doesn’t understand English,” she said. “Why are you doing this?” Angry.
“Well let’s see…Drugs for starters. Then there is the illegal drilling from the rig in—“
“I don’t have anything to do with that rig—“
“Uh-huh. But your go-fast boat is running drugs back and forth to that rig.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Then there’s the invasion of my home—the Black Lotus...and don’t tell me you had nothing to do with that. You warning me?”
“I—” She stopped.
“You are the head of the Tong,” I said.
She tried to say something.
I stopped her. “Oh yeah. That’s what you are. So don’t tell me—”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she said. “You have no authority to—” and she stopped herself.
“No? But I do have you. And the coke from the Zhi Zhu Nu. And your uncle, who’s waiting to talk with you.”
She began to speak but again stopped herself.
“You don’t need a lawyer,” I said. “I’m not a cop.”
She looked at Louise.
“She’s off duty,” I said.
Louise smiled. “But I bet you’re going to wind up in my jail,” she said, pausing and looking over at Lei Sun who was still sitting on the head, fidgeting, “you and your boyfriend—“
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh. So, you’re screwing your sister’s boyfriend.”
She turned red but didn’t say anything.
“I guess I nailed it,” said Louise, nodding at me.
“And then there are the shootings. Your boys shot at us several times. Why?” I asked, but before Li Lang could answer, I continued, “On one of those occasions they shot my client, Cynthia Hayward. You know the name. Your boys killed her father,” and before she could reply, I hurried on. “That’s why I’m here. No other reason. So, if you hadn’t done that, you’d be home free.”
“But—“
“Uh-huh. But what? Because he had taken some pictures of something he shouldn’t have? Because maybe he found out about the cocaine? Or maybe it was about the drilling? The fracking? In the Everglades of all places? Is that why you killed him?”
She shot back, “But I—“
“What? Didn’t do any of those things?”
Lei Sun looked confused as he watched—and worried—and he shifted on the toilet seat. Too hot, I guess.
“Well, tell you what—you’ll get time to explain all this to your uncle, Cleveland Wong, in just a little while.
And as I was saying that, Richie opened the hatch and yelled down. “The Coast Guard cutter. We’re there, bozos.”
Chapter One Hundred
Cleveland Wong and the Spider Woman
Huck maneuvered us in close to the stern, where the lower deck was about twelve feet from the water. Boarding was not easy. The seas were choppy and the rain made the transfer slick and dangerous. Four Guardsmen, whose arms were larger than my legs, tossed a rope ladder over the side. I pushed Li Lang up first. She slid over the gunnels into the arms of one of the Guardsmen. Then Lei Sun scaled the ladder—easily. Louise followed him, then Richie, slipping on several rungs but keeping his cool, and last, I climbed up the ladder and over the hull and onto the deck. Huck hung the bumpers over the side then tied off the Canyon, tossing the lines to the deck hands. Then he climbed the ladder like he could do it in his sleep.
We stood around on the deck, looking at each other, soaked and shivering—the temperature must have been in the high forties—and we watched the Guardsmen pull up the ladder.
“I thought I was goin’ in!” Richie whispered to me, staring out at the Straits. “Fuckin’ water.”
Then suddenly the Guardsmen came to attention as someone yelled, “Officer on deck,” and Commander Sykes came down the ladder from the main deck with Deputy Secretary Cleveland Wong.
“Welcome back,” said Sykes, holding out a hand and smiling. “Well done.”
“How about the bad guys in the fast boat?” I said.
“Still out there. The copter spotted them and radioed the chase boat. I told the pilot to disable the boat if they didn’t stop.”
“Nice work, Coop,” Wong said.
“There’s a ton more on the rig,” I said, “they can fill you in,” nodding to Li Lang and Lei Sun.
Wong had been eyeing the two the whole time. He started toward them, looking like he wanted to get this thing over. Two Guardsman were standing on either side of the prisoners. Li Lang’s eyes, filled with anger and rebellion, were focused on Wong as he came toward her.
“You should not look at me, niece,” Wong said and when she continued to do so, he slapped her across the face, so hard it sent her reeling to catch her balance—which she couldn’t do because of the cuffs. So, she lay sprawled out on the floor, looking up for help. None came.
Wong turned to Lei Sun who had witnessed what was in store for him. He spoke to the boyfriend in Chinese, in low tones, angry. Lei Sun said something back, got in Wong’s face, and then pushed him away with his head. One of the Guardsmen hit him in the back of the head with the butt of his M4A1 carbine. The blow knocked him to the floor. He wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
His face scarlet with anger, Wong turned to Li Lang. “You have disgraced your family,” pausing, “and your country!” as if the first was not enough. “You are criminals and you will pay…” He stopped. As though at a loss for what else to say. Li Lang did not move.
It was foggy on deck and still raining, and I felt bad for Wong as I watched him trying to keep his anger below the surface.
“Take them below,” he ordered, as if there was nothing more to do, “and lock them up.”
He was furious, but it didn’t show in his demeanor. It was in the way he held himself, the tenseness in his hands, the straightness of his back, his eyes forward. And he wouldn’t look at them when he talked. He stared through them, or past them, as if they didn’t exist to him.
And, after a few moments, he broke the silence, “I’m turning these two over to you, Detective Delgado,” he said, disgust riding his words like he was turning over vermin to a pest control person.
And as the Guardsmen began to lead them below, Li Lang looked over at Louise and Louise smiled and nodded. I told you so, she mouthed.
“You will confine them in your jail until Homeland Security decides where they should be held,” Wong added, his mouth tight against his teeth.
He turned to the four of us, his face glacial, yet the sadness, hidden deep in his culture, leaked through. “You guys should all get medals,” he said, “but...”
“Yeah, I know. This thing never happened,” I assured him.
“I’m afraid so. But I know what you did today,” he said, “and I will never forget it. Never.”
I knew he wouldn’t because of how his niece had screwed up her life, disgraced the family—for which there is no forgiveness—and shamed him on a day that he should be celebrating.
“And now, Cooper, call Jillie!” Wong urged, almost as if he had forgotten everything for the moment and moved the mountain of family treachery aside. “She’s called DeFelice several times. She upset. Let’s find a private place for you,” and he led me up the ladder to the upper deck. “This way,” he said as he pointed to a hatch off to my left under the wheelhouse. I followed him below into a lounge area where a few Guardsmen were sitting at tables, drinking and talking. They stood and saluted when they saw Wong. They sat back down when he passed.
“You need privacy,” Wong said, taking my arm and leading me toward one of the cabins off the lounge. It was a small room with a bunk, a chair, and a desk.
“Just a minute,” he said, and headed quickly back to the lounge. When he returned, he had a glass with ice floating in an amber liquid. “Here,” he said. “Drink this.” Then he gave me his SAT phone and headed for the door. “Call,” he said, as he closed the door.
Chapter One Hundred One
The Phone Call
She picked up on the first ring. “Coop?”
“Yeah?” I said. “You called.” And I was uneasy because I could feel the tension in that single word, Coop. “Is everything okay?”
She doesn’t call generally, except lately—about her new friend. And the urgency... Had somebody died?
“I’ve got some news.”
“Okay,” I said. “Good or bad?” Now I was nervous.
“It’s about Maxie...” and for a moment I thought I must have misheard what she was saying.
Someone opened the hatch and looked in. It was Louise. You okay? she mouthed, looking worried. As it turns out—yeah, she should have been.
I nodded, shrugged, and then mouthed, I think.
She nodded and closed the hatch.
I jammed the phone against my mouth, excited and edgy at the same time. “Go ahead. You were saying? Something about Maxie?” I asked, the words tumbling out of my mouth like marbles in free fall.
“Yes, Maxie,” she said. “He’s home.” I heard her voice break, and she began to sob, violently, and I was stunned.
“Did you say Maxie...?” And my heart almost came through my chest.
I repeated it again, “Maxie?” trying to make sure I heard it right. “He’s home?” I stared at the phone. “How...? Where...” and I stumbled around for words.
“Yes,” she finally said.
“Yes? Maxie’s home?” I wondered if my mind was playing tricks. “There? With you?” Still not believing.
“Yes, Coop. He is. He’s home.” She was crying and I wanted to hear the whole story, immediately. Where he was. How he got home. What he looked like...all of it in one minute, my heart pounding so fast I couldn’t talk, so I looked for a place to sit, and dropped on the bunk. And my head—it hurt, like a stroke was coming on—but after a few moments I settled into the quiet. And then she asked, Did I want to talk to him? I was shaking and said, Of course, and I sat, as rigid as a brick wall, waiting to hear his voice. My hand was shaking so badly I switched the phone to the other. I heard voices in the background and then, a young voice, but mature. Oh my God, I thought, he’s grown! I expected the same voice I had remembered when he was a kid. I forgot to add the years...
“Hi Dad,” just like that. All those years gone by, wondering if he was dead, and now...
And then Louise came back into the room and sat next to me—she must have been listening right outside. She looked worried. And hardly a minute later Richie and Huck came in, Richie holding out his hands, like What’s up?
“Hi Maxie!” I said, watching the shock on their faces—I mean complete and utter amazement—and Louise took my hand and squeezed it—hard.
“You’re home?” I said, still not believing it—making sure this wasn’t another dream.
“Yeah, I’m home,” he said. A small voice, not much affect.
I wanted him to tell me all about it, but didn’t want to ask: his trip home and I tried to picture it—his coming home—but I couldn’t. And I wanted to ask Where have you been? I mean, all these years? Eight. Long. Years. What happened, Maxie? You know, you were here one morning and then...? Were you hurt? Did somebody take you? Or did you just run away?—but I didn’t believe that...and yet...we didn’t know anything, Maxie, I wanted to tell him, nothing about what happened to you that morning—when the Dean told me, and I came home, and your mother...she...and we didn’t talk much after that
—except about you. We measured everything as before Maxie and after Maxie. And How have you been? I wanted to ask. What a crazy question would that be? But still, I wanted to know.
So I didn’t say anything about all that, just, How are you? And he said, Fine. And I thought on that. I heard Jillie say something to him in the background—and then there was a silence and I really wanted to ask, Where were you, but that was a deadly question, not like the one most parents ask when a kid goes missing and they search frantically for hours—with neighbors—and then he comes walking in the door, like no big deal, and they say, “Where were you?” And maybe he was at the movies, or maybe he went off with some friends into the woods, or maybe he was at a neighbor’s house watching TV, or whatever. No. With Maxie it was different. We’re talking eight years! We were almost sure he was dead. Wouldn’t anyone be? We split up over it.
And so I was afraid to ask, Where were you? Yet inside me a voice cried out, Where were you? Did he hear that? And so I did ask: “Where were you?” trying to make it sound normal, so as not to unsettle him too much, and I heard him take a very deep breath, then…
“Some men took me.” And even though the phone wasn’t on speaker, the room was so quiet that his voice filled it. I could feel the tears trying to leak from his eyes. Louise gasped and gripped my hand so tight it hurt. She had heard him. Richie and Huck had heard him. Wong had come back and was in the room, and he had heard him. I think the whole world must have heard him. And I felt guilty—before all of them. That some man came to our home and took my son and I didn’t stop him. I tried to remain calm.
“Kidnapped?” I couldn’t help it. The word slipped out. And I hoped the word would get lost on the way. Get caught up in the billions of words that go out into the universe every few seconds.
A Cold Copper Moon (The Cooper Series Book 3) Page 26