White Ginger (26 page)

Her words seemed to mollify him. He looked at her, a pained expression on his face. “I'm pretty sure this is the worst day of my life, Bai. And it seems as if it'll never end.”

He had tears in his eyes. She put her hand on his arm to steady him.

“‘A day of sorrow is longer than a month of joy,'” she acknowledged.

He looked at her with a pitiable expression on his face. Then he started to cry. She had to stop herself from joining him.

“Why don't you wait downstairs, Robert? We'll be down as soon as we're finished here.”

He nodded curtly in reply and walked shakily down the hall to let himself out of the flat. Lee came from the kitchen with his handkerchief in his hand. He'd obviously been wiping his prints.

“I want to take a minute to look around,” she said.

“What are we looking for?”

“I don't know. Anything that'll shed some light on what's going on, I suppose.”

She walked back into the bedroom. Park's red eyes seemed to follow her as she made her way across the room. Lee shadowed her to lend his handkerchief. She used it to open drawers and rummage through Park's things. He busied himself in a small closet, flipping open shoe boxes with a shoehorn he'd found.

“This is something,” Lee said, turning to her.

She walked over to see what he referred to. An open shoe box, sitting on the floor, was filled with neatly stacked gambling markers. The piles were held together with rubber bands.

“Her entire life in a shoe box,” Bai observed. “It looks like she had more than one addiction.”

She looked around the shabby room and shook her head. “From all appearances, Park lived a sad and lonely life.”

He pushed at the bundles of IOUs with the shoehorn. “I wonder if this has anything to do with that.” He gestured to the body lying on the bed. “She let someone into her life and into her apartment, someone she trusted. It's dreadfully apparent she wasn't any good at picking a winner.”

“Let's finish up. Just being here depresses me.”

They hurriedly went through the rest of the apartment but found nothing of consequence.

As they left, Lee opened the entry door and closed it again with his handkerchief. When they returned to the street, they found Robert waiting for them on the sidewalk. He leaned with his back against the car. His face looked pale.

“Are you going to be all right?” Bai asked.

“I guess so,” he replied. “Did you find anything?”

“We found gambling markers in a shoe box in the closet. Does she have any family?”

Robert paused and seemed to give thought to his answer. “I don't know.” He looked at her sadly. “I should know, but I don't. I feel terrible.”

He started to cry again. She put a hand on his shoulder to console him. She felt helpless. She always felt that way when faced with death.

 

Tires squealed in protest until the Clubman came bumper to bumper with the same black sedan that had blocked the alley earlier. Bai's heart thumped in her chest as she stared, wide-eyed, through the windshield.

The driver of the black sedan, a triad soldier, stared back. His jaw hung slack in shock. He then scowled while he shook his index finger at her in silent reprimand. She showed him one of her fingers in return. His scowl deepened before he slammed his car into reverse and backed the sedan down the alley to clear the way. She pushed the button on the garage door opener and gunned the engine to slip under the lifting door.

“You'd think that idiot would put his car someplace where I wouldn't run into it.”

Her anger was disproportionate to the situation. The sudden hostility she felt didn't make sense, but she couldn't seem to bring her emotions under control. She looked aside at Lee to see if he shared her indignation.

“I don't think a car blocking the alley is the source of your anger,” he replied quietly without turning to look at her. “Stress is making you nuts. You're letting fear and anger rule your emotions. I'd shake my finger at you, too, but I've already seen where that leads.”

His words made her pause and reflect.

“So you're saying I'm being a jerk?”

The words came out louder and more strident than she'd intended. She bit down on her lip to stop herself from venting further.

He turned to study her. “That would be putting it kindly.”

She clamped her lips together before letting up on the clutch to steer the car into its parking slot. She set the emergency brake and turned off the engine, her movements slow and calculated. It seemed important to at least appear as if she had everything under control.

She was angry. She was angry with Lee. She was angry with the world. And she was angry with herself for being angry. Her head dropped against the steering wheel as she closed her eyes and felt the cold, hard plastic press into her forehead.

When she spoke, she was close to tears. “I can't believe I pay you to insult me.”

Lee took a deep breath. “You don't pay me to insult you. You pay me to run interference for your business and organize your life. The insults are complimentary, as is the witty banter.”

He turned in his seat to give her privacy and waited for her to pull herself together.

“If you're in charge of organizing my life, why is it such a mess?” she blurted. “I've started to seriously think about what I want from life. I need to make changes. I'm not getting any younger, you know.”

“Time is a greased pig, fast and slippery,” he noted. “But if you don't get your head on straight, you won't have to worry about getting old. Need I remind you? Somebody wants you dead.”

Her hands held the steering wheel in a death grip as she let Lee's warning sink in. She knew he was right, but knowing he was right didn't really help.

“I'm a mess. I know that. My life has been on hold for a decade. I've never had a plan. And as depressing as it might be to face middle age, I'd like to live to see it. Is that asking too much?”

“I get it, Bai. But if you're serious about changing your life, why don't you start by apologizing to the guard in the alley first. You made him soil his shorts, then you flipped him off.” He lifted the latch on the door and stepped out of the car. “Sometimes, it's not all about you.”

She got out of the car to stare at him, her jaw tight. He ignored her. She hated apologizing, as Lee was well aware.

“Shit!” she said, as she marched out of the garage and into the alley.

The enforcer in the black sedan visibly winced when he saw her coming. She marched from the garage to the parked car with her arms swinging at her sides, her fists balled, to stand beside the driver's door. She motioned, wind-milling her hand, to get him to roll down the window. He did so reluctantly.

“I'm sorry for being a jerk.” The tone of her voice implied she was less apologetic than her words suggested.

Older than she'd first thought, his face lined with age, he sat quietly as if in thought. She realized, belatedly, he was probably a retired soldier, doing a favor for the brotherhood.

He turned to look at her solemnly, his voice soft and graveled. “Your grandfather was a good man. He once said to me, ‘A bit of fragrance clings to the hand that gives flowers.' It seems a small gift, but there are no small gifts of the heart.”

Her face turned red with shame. The generosity of his words humbled her. She was speechless. Then she bowed low, giving the man the respect he was due.

“Please forgive me. I apologize for my reckless and rude behavior.” The words came out meekly.

He nodded slowly. “Your apology is accepted.”

Bai turned and quickly retreated toward the garage, her face burning. Lee had been right, as usual. She was being a jerk.

Lee waited for her just inside the garage. He didn't say anything. He fell in beside her as she walked toward the lobby.

“That was appropriately mortifying,” she said. “Feel free to be insufferably self-righteous. I deserve it.”

He didn't respond. He didn't have to. Words weren't necessary.

She stopped to close the garage door before walking to the lobby to pick up the mail. Her brass mailbox was crammed full. A large manila envelope, folded and crammed into the slot, proved difficult to extract.

When she managed to yank the envelope free, she looked at the return address with surprise. “It's from Benny, posted from Sacramento.”

She ripped open the packet to draw out site maps, a copy of a deed, and a handwritten note.

“The note's also from Benny,” she said as she tried to decipher the scrawled writing. “It says the enclosed deed is for a partially developed subdivision he purchased at auction. The property was listed as four hundred home sites with additional acreage. Sewers, electrical, gas, and roads are already in place. It says he'll probably already have talked to me before I receive this . . .” her voice trailed off as she thought about the implications of the note, “which means he expected to be back in San Francisco before now.”

Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath.

The sound of Lee's voice forced her to open her eyes.

“Don't jump to conclusions,” he warned.

She felt hollow as she tried to ignore the feeling that something really bad had happened to Benny. Lee was probably right. There was no point in assuming the worst. Still, she couldn't manage to shake off a feeling of dread.

“It looks like the development Benny purchased is in a place called Folsom,” Lee said, unfolding the site map. “I think that's near Sacramento. Folsom Prison is around there somewhere.”

“It's about fifteen miles east of Sacramento,” she informed him.

She waved the deed. “I need to look at this property. Let's drive to Folsom first thing tomorrow morning. I want to see this subdivision in daylight.”

“Sounds good to me.” He was preoccupied. His attention was on the site maps. “How much would you guess a property like this might be worth?”

“In a hot market, a property that size might bring thirty, maybe forty million. In today's market, it's probably worth a fraction of that. We'll have to hold the property until the market turns. It might be years.”

“But still a good deal for five million?”

“Sure. It looks like a great deal for five million.”

She thought about the process involved in auctioning properties like the one Benny had purchased. “This property would already have gone through foreclosure in order to be auctioned by a bank. That's standard procedure. So, if this purchase is the cause of his disappearance, we're still missing something.”

“Maybe I should take these papers over to Robert later and see what he can find out about the property,” he suggested.

“That's a good idea. Tell him to make copies of the documents. I want a set to carry with me tomorrow. And have him see what he can find out about the developers as well as the bank that foreclosed on the property. It won't do any harm to get background on the transactions, just in case something interesting turns up.”

“I'll let him know.” He looked at the watch on his wrist. “I imagine he'll be tied up at Park's place for a while yet.”

She handed Lee the handwritten note from Benny. “Give this to him, as well.”

“This note won't ease his mind.”

“Benny's his partner. He deserves to know.”

Lee eyed the note with apprehension before tucking it into a pocket inside his jacket. “Fair enough,” he said, obviously reluctant to be the bearer of bad news. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to bed. I've had about four hours sleep in the last thirty-six hours. Exhaustion is clouding my judgment. I want to be sharp tomorrow.”

“Is there anything you need tonight? Some takeout maybe?” His face showed concern.

She smiled to let him know she was all right. “No. I just want to sleep. I'll knock on your door around eight in the morning.”

She turned and pressed the button for the elevator, which opened immediately.

Lee hovered. “Call me if you need anything. I mean it.”

The door to the elevator started to close. “If you come across a nice man with a fetish for neurotic Chinese women, send him my way.”