Another One Bites the Dust (26 page)

“This is stellar work, Miles. Probably your best ever, considering the deadline pressure. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Forget that idea we talked about earlier. I can nail Pengfei with a bolt, no problem.”

“Are you kidding? I’m on a roll, Jaz. I’ll have that sucker ready for you by dusk!” Scary light in his eyes now. Kinda fanatical, like Dale Spitzer and the
Others
Suck crew. Scarier still that I could relate. The work did it, man. It seeped right into your marrow if you let it or, in our case, if you courted and sweet-talked and sometimes pleaded with it.

I hesitated. “Okay, but I’m warning you. We can’t play outside anymore. Cassandra’s got to do her half of the Pengfei disguise.
And I need to figure out how to get back onboard the
Constance Malloy.
Come on, Wu, grow a set and give me a call!

A couple of hours later he did just that. Good thing too, because I’d just finished doing eenie meenie minie mo to decide which of my crew I should strangle first, and the future looked bleak for Bergman.

The biggest problem was that four grown adults weren’t meant to hang together in such a small space with so much at stake. Playing euchre, fine. Making preparations to assassinate two vampires who could easily turn their rig into kindling—nuh-uh.

Nobody found Cole’s antics amusing, which made him want to grab his toys and go play somewhere else. He disappeared into the bathroom for a while. Nobody even wanted to guess what he was up to in there. Then he ended up in the driver’s seat, flipping through radio stations so fast Cassandra finally yelled at him to either settle on one or put in a damn CD. Yes, she said “damn.” She was really starting to sweat.

I blamed part of it on the steam rising from the big pot bubbling over the stove. I don’t know why she felt she had to lean her entire face over it every time she stirred the contents, but there you go. I guess some spell casters are very hands-on that way.

Part of the problem was Bergman.

“These instruments are very sensitive to temperature,” he’d announce to the room at large. Then he’d subside. Five minutes later, “The metal is perspiring. How am I supposed to do intricate work like this with a metal that’s perspiring?”

Cassandra strode out of the kitchen and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later she returned and slammed a stick of deodorant on Bergman’s table. “Try that on your damn metal!” she snapped as she went back to her work.

He raised his eyebrows at me like,
What’s gotten into her?
I pointed directly at him. Then I pressed my lips together, made a zipping motion across them, acted as if I was turning a lock at their center, and threw the imaginary key out the window.

I managed to keep them from open warfare, but Wu definitely heard the relief in my voice when I answered his call.

“I am sorry I have not phone before,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “There was much work to be done before I can break free.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m impressed that you’re willing to give us a chance.”

“I am willing to talk,” he hedged.

Dammit, I don’t have
time
for negotiations!
But one way or another I had to get hold of a Pengfei outfit. And a fan. And maybe some of her makeup and hair doodads. No sense in pushing this spell so hard it burst at the seams. Plus it would be nice to separate her from Lung to start with. Our plan would sail so much smoother if I could kill and become her before Lung even saw her this evening. If I could get into her room, maybe I could find a clue as to where to find her.
My job would be so much easier if I just knew where you two stiffs holed up during the day.

“Miss Robinson?”

“Sorry, Xia Wu, my mind was wandering there for a second. Um, yes, talking would be great. Can I meet you onboard?”

“Certainly. As cover, please bring with you the dry-cleaning from J-Pards on Twenty-sixth and Elm. I neglected to retrieve it while in town as an excuse to have it brought to me.”

“Very clever,” I said.
Dry-cleaning! Argh!
Pengfei had left an outfit here on land, ripe for the picking, and I hadn’t even considered the possibility.

“My brother, Shao, have the ticket. He makes sure you get it within the hour. Please to be here before five.”

Okay, now I had two reasons not to like this guy, maybe three. One, he wasn’t going to jump right in line from the start. Two, he didn’t have a problem involving his brother. Though with a family to support, Shao could not afford to stand this close to the kind of danger Lung represented. And maybe three, isolated by the telephone, the timbre of Wu’s voice led me to suspect the People’s Liberation Army had been recruiting
others
. And I didn’t think Wu’s particular brand cared much for mine. In fact, I thought he just might be a reaver.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

My first instinct was to get the Xia clan the hell out of town. Stash them somewhere safe until Pengfei, Lung, and Wu were no longer threats. But then it might be obvious they had American allies and that could be even worse for them than what they faced now. Plus I could be wrong about Wu. So, though I would deeply regret it later, I decided the best course of action would be none at all.

However I had to get that dry-cleaning tag, and the Xias had been seen around our camp way too often. “Cole, you look bored.”

He rotated his chair to face me where I stood between Mary-Kate and Ashley, still holding the phone. At the moment he was making faces. By that, I mean he’d pinched his eyebrows between the thumbs and forefingers of each hand and was rearranging his expression in time to the song on the radio, which happened to be that timeless classic “Help Me, Rhonda” by the Beach Boys.

I pocketed my phone. “Are you what happens to little boys when they grow up without ever having gotten to play with Mr. Potato Head?”

He pulled his eyebrows into a frowny face. “I’ll have you know my lack of PlaySkool toys from ages seven to nine has scarred me for life. Did you know one Christmas I actually had to settle for a deluxe double upside-down loop racing set from Tyco?”

“I’m amazed you haven’t blown up an entire chain of toy stores by now. Come on, let’s get outta here.”

“You’re leaving?” Cassandra and Bergman chorused, their soprano (him) and tenor (her) combining to provide our listening ears with a lovely harmony of trepidation and outright alarm.

“Yes,” I said, “although I prefer to think of it as escaping. If you two kill each other before we get back, make sure you leave written—and by that I mean printed, not cursive—directions on how to use your gadgets.”

I didn’t actually run out the door, but it was definitely one of my quicker exits. Caught by surprise, Cole couldn’t keep up with me and was forced to dodge a barrage of demands and requests before finally rejoining me on the outside.

“I like those two,” Cole offered, “but only when they’re apart.”

“I agree.”

“Together they’re like spilled oil and Alaskan sea creatures.”

“Well, for our sakes I hope they find a way to mesh. Otherwise, I think, eventually, one of them will have to go.”

Cole put his fingers to the corners of his lips and pulled them down.

“Would you cut that out!”

He shrugged, as if at a loss as to understand my lack of humor. “So where are
we
going?”

“To find the Xias.” At this time of day we should have been able to catch them at home, since Shao was between shows and, I kinda thought, they were expecting us.

We wandered the area, smiling at the people we saw, hoping we’d find the Xias before we had to stop somebody and ask for them by name. Then I had an inspiration. I grabbed Cole by the hand and dragged him back toward the path, where a row of game booths had just opened up for business.

“You played baseball as a kid, right?” I asked him.

“Of course.”

“And your dad coached the team?”

“Yeah,” he said with a curious, how-on-earth-did-you-know tone. Did I really look that stupid?

“So you were the pitcher.”

“I was the only kid who could get it across the plate without bouncing it first.” Slight defensive tone now.

I pushed him up to the counter of a place designed to look like a dugout. At the back, bowling pins had been set up on four different tables. The more you knocked down, the cooler the prize. I directed Cole’s attention to a little brown bear sitting on a shelf. Cost—ten pins. “That’s the one I want.”

The proprietor of the establishment, a fifty-something gentleman missing at least four teeth whose greasy brown hair framed his sad, skeletal face came forward to take my five bucks. I held on to my end, forcing him to meet my eyes.

“Tell you what,” I said. “I’m a cop, but I’m here to have a good time. So I don’t really want to check to make sure you’re running a straight game. What do you say you take a stroll to the back there and do that for me before we begin?” I let my eyes tell him exactly what I’d do to him if I discovered he was trying to cheat me, and he released that bill like I’d coated it with ricin. He kept his back to us as he fiddled with the middle game table. I saw his hands go to the mini apron tied around his bony hips; then he turned and looked at Cole.

“Ready to play?”

Cole smirked. “Always.”

Three throws later I had my bear and we were headed back to trailer city. We only had to stop a couple of people and explain that a baby whose parents were acrobats had left the bear in our tent during our show the night before. One guy couldn’t speak English. The other pointed us straight to the Xias’ trailer.

Shao answered the door. He wore a white T-shirt and loose black pants that tied at the waist. His hair stood on end, as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. His eyes were puffy and red.
Oh God, Ge’s left him
.

But she came to the door next, laying her hand on his shoulder. The cords in his neck and shoulders immediately relaxed.
Whew!
I didn’t realize how badly I wanted their family to stay together. It was because of the little dude I could see in the background, sitting in his high chair, banging on his plate with a plastic spoon, future drummer for the Cheerios Crushers.

I held out the bear. “Your baby left this in our tent last night. We wanted to return it because we thought he might have a hard time sleeping without it.” I smiled, hoping they’d catch on. They did. All too quickly.

Shao bowed deeply. “Thank you. Thank you. Please to come in?”

I glanced at Cole. “Sure, I guess we have a minute.”

I’d describe the design scheme for the Xias’ camper as Early Toddler. Otherwise a clean, dust-free environment, the place was artfully strewn with balls, rattles, Sesame Street puppets, and teething rings. Ge went to clean up the interior decorator while Shao showed us to a rust-colored love seat that sank nearly to the floor when we sat on it. As soon as I managed to remove my knees from my throat I said, “I spoke to your brother just now.”

Shao’s face puckered. He dropped into a chair next to us. “My brother is no more.”

Aha.
“What do you mean?”

He put his elbows on his knees and dropped his forehead into his hands. For a while he just sat that way; then he ran his fingers through his crazed hair and looked up. “He was fine when he got off the plane. Himself, yes?”

I nodded, as if I’d recognize Wu anywhere.

“We say hello. We hug. He must stop at the bathroom. So I wait for him. When he come out . . .” Shao shook his head.

You never expect to find the bogeyman in the bathroom. But it’s a favorite hangout. He seems to lurk in the stall markedOUT OF ORDER , waiting until your pants have fallen around your ankles and the other patrons have left. “Did you see anyone go in or come out right after him? Anyone, you know, funny-looking?”

Shao shook his head.

“I know you were distracted by Wu’s behavior and your suspicions, but think back to that moment. You’re standing, where, by the men’s room door?”

He nodded. “Leaning against the wall. Wu’s bags are at my feet.”

“Wait, go back a couple of steps. Wu puts his bags down. Does he do anything before he goes into the bathroom?”

Shao squeezed his eyes shut. “He pinching my cheeks. Saying I still cute as little bunny rabbit. Makes me want to put him in headlock like when we kids. When he turn to open bathroom door he nearly run into old man.”

I leaned forward. “Describe him,” I demanded.

“White hair like this.” Shao held his own hair straight up and down. “Eyes, ah . . .” He got up, went into the kitchen, and grabbed a pan. Pointing to its silver exterior, he said, “Like this color only a little bit blue. Also covered with hair.” Shao made quick circular motions with his hands crisscrossing his face. “Just everywhere. And in his ear a sparkly ring.”

I would bet a year’s pay Xia Wu had encountered the reaver Desmond Yale.

Shao returned to his chair as he went on. “When Wu come out of the bathroom, there is someone new behind his eyes.” He shook his head. “This is no good way to describe it. Also there is a feeling.” He touched his fingers to his chest several times, said something in Chinese, and looked at Ge for help.

Though Lai gabbed and gurgled as if he had important things to say, she kept her eyes glued to her husband as she carried their son into the room. “I think the word is ‘evil,’” she whispered.