White Ginger (8 page)

“I'm looking forward to meeting you, Miss Jiang.”

She closed her phone to end the call. Both Lee and Jason stared at her. “Dan's fine. She beat up a boy.”

Lee looked concerned. Jason smiled.

Bai had never named Dan's father. All you had to do was look at Dan and Jason to see the resemblance. She'd inherited his handsome features and, obviously, her quick temper.

“The principal wants to see me.” Her words sounded ludicrous after the events of the last hour.

Jason looked aside to smile at her. “Weren't you about Dan's age when you first beat me up?”

She couldn't help but return his smile at the memory. “You deserved it. You pulled my ponytail.”

“I couldn't help myself,” Jason said in his own defense. “I was in love.”

The look he bestowed on her said he still was.

Lee and Jason bracketed Bai as she entered Darryl Hopkins. Arched double doors opened onto an entry hall in the red-brick, deco-styled building. A security desk fanned around the narrow corridor to corral unsuspecting visitors. The only way past the kiosk was through a metal detector.

Two uniformed guards waited behind the desk. They scrutinized Bai and her entourage as she approached. The inspection seemed professional. The faces of the men showed practiced detachment.

“My name is Bai Jiang. I'm here for my daughter.”

One of the guards took a small step back, and his hand lifted to rest on the holstered pistol at his side. The other guard smiled tightly and picked up a clipboard off the counter. The guards moved with a precision that indicated training, probably military. Her opinion of them bumped up a notch.

The guard in front pushed the visitor registration sheet across the desk in her direction. “If you'll sign in please, Ms. Jiang. And these gentlemen are . . . ?”

The guard left the question hanging as he eyed Lee and Jason.

She glanced back before answering. “They're my security.”

Parents at Darryl Hopkins included diplomats, politicians, the rich, and the very rich. Many of them maintained their own security. Jason and Lee looked the part.

The guard nodded his head in acceptance of her claim. “No weapons are permitted beyond this point.” The guard spoke as he turned to open a gun safe at his back. “Any weapons you're carrying will be returned when you leave.”

He held his hand out, palm up, and waited.

Lee pulled his Tomcat from his shoulder holster and handed it over. Jason lifted a 9mm from the small of his back, a snubnosed .38 off his ankle, and a throwing knife off of each wrist. The guard eyed the knives speculatively as he deposited them in the weapons case.

Bai removed the blade from her wrist sheath and reluctantly handed it to the guard, who, for the first time, showed surprise. He recovered quickly to issue directions. “If you'll step through the metal detector, Mr. Ketchum and our head of security are waiting for you in the administration offices. The door is down the hallway on your right.”

They passed through the plastic stanchions of the metal detector without incident and continued down the empty corridor. The black and white marble on the floor showed wear. The paneling on the walls displayed a patina wood only acquires with age. The building dated from the thirties and had originally served as a fashionable apartment complex before being converted to a private school.

Black lettering on a glass-paneled door informed Bai she'd arrived at the administration offices. She opened the door to find a deserted lobby. The room was spartan. Four backless couches on a polished cement floor hugged the walls. An institutional odor, a combination of stale coffee, ink toner, and moldy building, permeated the air.

Loud voices issued from an inner office. She stopped to listen while Jason and Lee stood in the open doorway at her back. A disembodied voice yelled, “You can't pretend the video doesn't exist.”

The reply was conciliatory. “And what would you have me do? This school can't afford a lawsuit.”

“I won't allow it, Ketchum. I'm still the head of security at this school and I'm not destroying evidence just to make your job easier. This recording proves the girl is innocent.”

“You know that child's background as well as I do. Innocence and guilt are a matter of perception. You just need to do what you're told and let me run this school.”

Bai walked over to the door with “PROVOST” lettered in gold on frosted glass. She twisted the knob to fling the door open. Arms held rigidly at her sides, she surveyed the office as a strained hush fell over the room. Two men stood behind a large desk, their expressions frozen in surprise.

A muscle in Bai's cheek twitched. Her nails dug into the palms of her fisted hands. “It's important to remember, gentlemen,” she said with venom in her voice, “‘there are always ears on the other side of the wall.' And, since you're well aware of my daughter's background, I'm sure you're also mindful I'm not the kind of mother you want to fuck with.”

The threat wasn't subtle. The two men facing her stood in stunned silence. Lee and Jason stepped into the room to stand at her side.

Recovering first, the younger of the two men stepped around the desk to greet her with his hand extended. “Miss Jiang, my name's John Race, head of security here at Hopkins. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is Walter Ketchum, our provost.”

He introduced the older gentleman, who nodded at her and muttered a brief, “Pleasure,” before seating himself behind his desk. He looked as if he'd bitten into something bitter. Bai hoped it was cyanide. She ignored Race's outstretched hand and turned her full attention on the provost.

“Tell me about the recording.”

Her eyes bored holes into Walter Ketchum.

Ketchum remained silent as he turned his head to look at Race. Bai watched the interplay with interest. Race shook his head discreetly in denial, a gesture that in turn elicited an angry glare from Ketchum. Red crept slowly up the provost's neck until it covered his face like a bad rash. He continued to stare malevolently at Race until finally, he tossed up his hands. “I was hasty in calling you, Miss Jiang,” he blurted out. “We hadn't reviewed the digital recordings before I made the call. It's now evident your daughter was not at fault. She was acting in self-defense. The video clearly shows a case of bullies getting exactly what they deserved.”

“I want my daughter brought to me immediately, and I want to see the recording.”

A shadow seemed to drop over Ketchum's face. His features became unreadable. He then looked at her in cold evaluation before turning to Race. “If you'll escort Dan to my office, I think that would be best.”

She turned to look at Lee and nodded. He understood and turned on his heel to follow Race.

“My security will accompany Mr. Race,” she said to Ketchum.

He started to object, but the sound died in his throat when he met Bai's gaze. “Certainly.”

The rejoinder seeped out of him as his shoulders slumped. He seemed to deflate as he leaned back into his chair.

She looked around the room. “Where are the boys who were involved?”

Ketchum answered sullenly. “They've been sent home. One required stitches to the inside of his mouth. The other boy was simply shaken by the incident. In hindsight, I suspect he was more frightened of the truth coming to light.” He placed a hand over his brow and drew it down his face. “I'm truly sorry for any distress this incident has caused you and your daughter.”

Given the circumstances, Bai viewed the apology as a hollow gesture. “Sorry enough to destroy evidence and conceal the truth?”

Her response silenced the provost.

When Dan entered the office, Lee held her hand. Dan smiled when she saw her mother and ran over to hug her. She then stepped around Bai to give Jason a hug. Jason turned his daughter around and put his hands on her shoulders protectively.

Dan was twelve, tall for her age and already a beauty. Long black hair framed a heart-shaped face set off by almond-brown eyes. Every time she looked at her daughter, Bai was reminded of how precious the girl was.

Bai kept her voice light. “We were about to watch a video of your fight with the two boys. Perhaps you could help us understand what happened.”

“Sure.” Dan seemed outwardly unfazed by the altercation. “But it wasn't much of a fight.”

Race swiveled the monitor on Ketchum's desk so they could view the digital recording. The picture on the video was crystal clear. The school obviously employed high-resolution cameras that had captured the scene in full color and graphic detail.

Dan stood in the corridor. Two boys approached. Words were exchanged.

Race paused the recording and turned to Dan. “What are they saying to you, Dan?”

“They kept talking about how I didn't belong here, something about mud people.”

Bai intervened. “We'll talk about that later.”

She felt it would be better to discuss racial hatred in the privacy of their home where she'd have the time to deal with the delicate subject. Dan was a curious girl and full of questions. Bai wasn't looking forward to the conversation.

Race started the recording again with a pained expression on his face. Words escalated to shoving as the two boys pushed at Dan, one on each side of her. For a moment, all Bai saw was red, her anger so intense she felt the heat of it on her face.

She turned to Jason, who held Dan securely from behind. When she met his gaze, her own anger evaporated out of dread.

Bai turned quickly back to watch the monitor.

One of the boys drew back a fist to strike Dan, who surprised him by stepping inside his swing to use the flat of her palm to strike him under the chin while placing a leg behind his, a maneuver that slammed the boy to the checkered floor. The second boy took a wild swing at her back but met her foot as he stepped forward. The back kick caught him squarely in the mouth.

“Nice form,” Lee said, taking pride in her textbook-perfect moves. He was her teacher, her
shifu
.

“Thank you,” Dan replied, with a shy smile.

Race offered her more praise. “Nice form, indeed.”

“So, we have a hate crime.” Bai made the statement as the video played out, her tone matter-of-fact.

Ketchum took offense at the remark. “These are just children, Miss Jiang. I think ‘hate crime' is a bit too harsh for what took place.”

She looked from Ketchum to Race. “Two boys assaulted my daughter at her school while verbally abusing her with racial slurs. I'm not sure what you'd call it if not a hate crime. If there aren't any consequences for their actions, who's to say they won't do it again? Has a police report been filed?”

Ketchum blustered, “We didn't think it was necessary.”

Bai stared at Race. “Who is ‘we'?”

He shook his head in denial, and Ketchum backtracked. “Let me amend that. I didn't think it was necessary.”

She pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her jacket to call the police. She reported the incident, provided an address for the school, and asked for an officer to respond.

Ketchum stared at her, his expression resigned but oddly defiant. “I should warn you. The instigator of this fight is Anthony Romano, John Romano's son. I hope you know with whom you're dealing, Miss Jiang.”

John Romano was a prominent San Francisco attorney with ties to big money. He'd been courted as a conservative candidate for State Attorney General, who professed to be “tough on crime.”

Bai shrugged. “John Romano might be an important man with powerful friends,” she turned to look at Jason as she continued in a conversational tone, “but I'm fairly certain the same laws that protect Mr. Romano also protect my daughter. For now, let's put our faith in the justice system and wait to see what happens.”

Jason met her gaze steadily for several long moments before slowly nodding once in reluctant agreement. His response elicited a sigh of relief that involuntarily escaped her, a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.