White Ginger (35 page)

Bai looked at Robert. “Or maybe he found himself squeezed for capital. With real estate prices plummeting, he may have needed the cash to shore up his holdings. The reason doesn't really matter anymore, at least not to Benny. Now that we know who, why doesn't really matter.”

“So what do we do now?” asked Lee.

A plan was forming in her mind, but she wanted more time to think about the repercussions of what she considered. “I'd like to sleep on it.” She looked from Lee to Robert. “In the meantime, Robert, do you have someplace other than home where you can stay?”

“I don't know.” Robert looked flustered. “Do you think I'm in danger?”

“At this point, I'm not sure. I think it's better to be safe than sorry.”

“I don't really have anyone, now that Benny's gone,” he said, sounding a little lost.

“How about staying with Lee?” she said. “A few days will be all I'll need. By then, this mess should be cleared up. You'll be safer here, in this building, than anywhere else I can think of.”

Lee looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. She ignored him.

Robert didn't look reassured, but he nodded reluctantly. “If you feel that's best.”

“Lee will take you downstairs and get you settled into his guest room. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Thank you,” he replied, getting to his feet tiredly.

Lee accepted the inevitable with his usual graciousness. He smiled encouragingly at Robert and led the way toward the entry hall with the dazed and slightly drunk lawyer in tow.

She went to the kitchen to make drinks and wait for Lee to return. When he came back, the two settled on the couch to talk.

He speculated as he sipped iced vodka. “Do we kill them all?”

“That's a lot of killing,” she observed dryly.

“They deserve it. They killed Benny and Park. Jia was nearly beaten to death. They definitely deserve it—an eye for an eye.”

“That's very Catholic of you.”

“They're evil men.”

“‘Crows everywhere are equally black.'”

“Your point being?”

“If I put a bullet in every greedy and selfish person I come across, I'll run out of bullets long before I run out of jerks.”

Lee let his exasperation show. “So how do you want to handle it?”

“I'm not sure yet. That's why I'm thinking.”

She placed her index finger against her temple and tapped.

“I thought I smelled something burning.” Standing, he waved his glass in her direction. “I need a refill. Do you want another?”

Bai shook her head to let him know she'd had enough. She continued to dwell on the problem while she listened to the icemaker grinding out fresh cubes. By the time he returned, she had a rough idea about how she wanted to proceed. There was only one problem.

“Jason's back in town,” she stated.

He looked surprised to hear of Jason's return. “When did that happen?”

“When I opened my eyes two hours ago and found him sitting on the edge of my tub.”

He looked alarmed. “Does he know about today? I mean . . . you know, the bomb, Benny, the FBI?”

“He let me know we'd bought the wrong car. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he knows what color underwear we have on.”

“That's somehow disturbing and at the same time scintillating.” He appeared worried. “But I understand exactly what you're saying. If he knows everything we know, what we think doesn't really matter. He'll take matters into his own hands regardless of what we decide.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Unless I can convince him otherwise.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

She stared at Lee blankly as her mind went over the different tactics she might use on Jason. One by one, she mentally discarded them. He wasn't like most men. She couldn't lie to him. And using sex was no longer an option unless she was willing to swallow her pride and whore herself, which she wasn't.

“There's really only one possible way to sway him.”

“And what's that?”

“I'm going to have to beg,” Bai replied sadly, acknowledging her fate, “like a dog.”

 

Jason picked up on the first ring.

“I have the information you want,” Bai informed him.

He got straight to the point. “What did you find out?”

“I'd rather we didn't have this conversation over the phone. Why don't you come over, and I'll show you everything I have?”

“That sounds deliciously promising,” he replied. “Even though I've already seen everything you have, it's always good to get a refresher.”

“Don't get too excited. The only thing you'll see tonight is paperwork.”

She waited for him to respond.

When he spoke, his voice sounded distrustful. “Two hours ago, you threw me out of your house. Now you're inviting me back. You're up to something.”

“I can't believe you'd say something like that to the mother of your child,” she said and hung up the phone.

She was playing a delicate game. Guilt, as a weapon, has a sharp edge. Used too often, it will dull. She got up from the couch and went into the bathroom to run water over her face. She looked into the mirror at her reflection. Her own steely gaze stared back at her; she had a hard glint in her eyes that hadn't been there before. The woman in the mirror, she realized, could kill when angered.

“Congratulations. You're a killer.” Her voice echoed her disgust.

She wandered to the back of the flat and found herself sitting in Dan's room. Her daughter's stuffed animals littered the canopied bed. She picked up Dan's favorite teddy bear and hugged it. Her eyes filled, but she fought back the tears. Her daughter would be home soon. The nightmare was coming to an end.

When she walked back to the living room, Jason was sitting on the couch reading the documents left on the coffee table.

“Don't you ever knock?”

“I didn't want to disturb you.”

He continued to examine the documents.

“Would you like a drink?”

He held up a glass. It was nearly empty. She took a seat across from him to watch as he read. His eyes flashed across the pages.

She leaned forward to get his attention. “I want you to do me a favor.”

His face remained inscrutable. He stopped reading and looked up. “Is that why you guilted me?” His expression was wary. “It seemed out of character for you. You must be desperate.”

She leaned back in her chair. Her attempt to manipulate him appeared to be a total failure. She was going to be forced to resort to honesty. Framing her answer carefully, she replied, “I want you to give me two days to settle things with the Martinez brothers and Romano. Let me do things my way.”

He smirked. “I hope your way includes killing them.”

“I haven't come to a decision yet. If I can remove the threat, maybe there doesn't have to be any more killing.”

He didn't look convinced. He brushed away her request with a flick of his hand. When he spoke, his voice was brittle. “These men threatened my daughter. They tried to kill you. They need to die.”

“They threatened
our
daughter,” she leveled at him. “And I want them to pay for the crimes they've committed just as much as you do. They need to atone for the deaths of Benny and Park. I'm just asking you to give me the chance to settle this score my way. I'm the injured party here. I'm the one they're trying to kill. Don't I deserve the first shot at these creeps?”

He shook his head and looked at her, his jaw so tight the muscles in his cheeks rippled. Finally, he responded. “Two days . . . then they're mine.”

She swallowed a victory cheer and spoke, instead, in a measured voice. “Deal!”

Tossing off the last of his drink, he stood to leave. “Whatever you're up to, be careful.”

She nodded. “Thanks.” She was afraid to say more, fearing he would change his mind.

He turned to walk out of the room and disappeared with the same ease he'd demonstrated in gaining access to her home.

“I need to upgrade the security system,” she muttered to herself. The idea of his coming and going as he pleased left her more than a little disconcerted.

She leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the coffee table. The first part of her plan had succeeded. Jason had given her two days. Now she had to bring all of the actors together to play their parts. The timing would have to be perfect. Her plan left no room for error and her only leverage was the real estate; Golden Heights was going to be her golden ticket.

If Romano and the Martinez brothers wanted to hide their bank fraud, they needed to recover possession of Golden Heights. She'd sell them back the property—and her silence—for a price. But she wasn't gullible enough to hand over the property without guarantees. She fully realized nothing ensured a person's continued silence like death. The difficulty she faced was in making sure that killing her was not an option.

She picked up her phone to make some calls. A host of things needed to be put in place to make the plan work. It took a couple of hours to acquire everything she needed. The last item on her list was to get the private number of John Romano. That took a little longer than expected. An hour and a thousand-dollar bribe later, the phone number she'd asked for got e-mailed to her via a temporary Hotmail account.

Bai used her home phone, the one without a blocked ID, to dial. When Romano picked up, his voice was groggy with sleep. “Hello. Who's this?”

She spoke softly but confidently. “We haven't met, but you know who I am. Look at the caller ID.”

Silence on the other end of the line. She waited.

His voice was tense. “You must have me confused with someone else. This is an unlisted number. How did you get it?”

She ignored his question. “I have something you want, and I'm willing to return it to you and the Martinez brothers—for a price. You can buy back your property and my silence. It's as simple as that. I'd suggest you call your associates and come to a decision about how you'd like to proceed. You have until tomorrow morning. If I haven't heard from you by eight a.m., I'll go public. I don't think I can be any plainer than that. I didn't block this call, so you have my return phone number. Don't be late.”

She ended the call before he had a chance to reply.

Bai made coffee and sat down on the couch to wait. She knew they would eventually come to the same conclusion she had—they had no choice in the matter. They could either silence her with money, or they could spend several years fighting felony fraud charges in court. Regardless, with their wealth and their political connections, she doubted they'd ever spend a day in jail. But the proceedings would ruin their reputations and probably taint any business dealings they might hope to have in the future. They really couldn't afford not to pay her off.

An hour later her phone rang. The number was blocked.

She answered, keeping her voice pleasant. “Hello.”

“Miss Jiang?” It was a deep voice on the other end of the line, a voice she didn't recognize.

“Speaking.”

“I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize to you.” The voice sounded sincere. “My name is Ray Martinez, and it's my understanding my sons have caused you some inconvenience.”

The voice was raspy, that of an older man's. She was surprised the senior Martinez would involve himself in the matter. He would have been smarter to distance himself from the banking scheme. Perhaps things had gotten so far out of hand he now felt compelled to intervene. Whatever the reason, she was a little stunned to find him on the other end of the call.

“I think inconvenience is a massive understatement,” she stated emphatically. “But I appreciate your apology, Mr. Martinez.”

“Please, call me Ray.”

“As I was saying, Mr. Martinez, the death of close associates is more than a mere inconvenience.”

He didn't respond immediately.

When he did speak, his voice was just as congenial. “Yes, well, the young are sometimes overly exuberant in their attempts to succeed. I'm just glad you didn't suffer any personal long-term ill effects from their enthusiasm.”

She smiled, recognizing the opening gambit of a negotiation. “I wouldn't be so quick to say there are no long-term consequences. I've been permanently deprived of several resources I'd grown very fond of. It's true you can't put a price on some things. But, I believe, Mr. Martinez, you can put a price on most things. Wouldn't you agree?”

There was another silence on the other end of the line. Bai suspected others were in the room with the old man, very likely his sons.

When he spoke again, he got to the heart of the matter. “What, Miss Jiang, do you feel is an appropriate number?”

Smiling again, she wished she could be in the room with them when they heard her reply. “I want twenty, in cash, nonsequential hundreds. I also want apologies, in person, from Mr. Romano and your two sons. And, Mr. Martinez, none of these terms is negotiable.”