Severed Threads (17 page)

Bo veered left toward the small parking lot behind Gordy’s Pawn Shop. She continued to trail after him, maintaining a safe distance. He finally came to a screeching halt under the O’Neill Street sign. His quick glance around sent her lunging for cover between two dumpsters.

"Over here," Bo called out in a loud whisper. The sound of heavy footsteps left her crouching behind the smelly mountain of trash. She waited with baited breath. After a few seconds, she ventured a peek. A man dressed in a light gray suit stood beside Bo, his square jaw vaguely familiar. When his deep-rooted chuckle reached her ears, Rachel knew without a doubt who Bo was meeting.
Detective Brennan.
The cop had been a close friend of her father's for more than ten years.

From her vantage point, it was impossible to hear their guarded conversation – an exchange that might have come in handy at some point. But what she did witness scarred her memories and made an indelible impression.

Brennan reached out a hand and accepted a stuffed envelope from Bo with the precision of a practiced crook. He slipped it inside his breast pocket, shook hands, then one after the other they parted ways in a casual manner, avoiding any implication of criminal mischief. The thirty-second incident erased any doubt in her mind and told her more than any words she might’ve overheard. Gabe Pollero had her brother squirreled away and the police in his pocket, just as he had claimed.

Fifteen

Rachel stood before the cottage’s picture window, transfixed by the flickering lights in the harbor. She tossed back her wine glass, draining its contents along with all her remaining hope in humanity. Like a Hollywood horror flick, evil had crept out of the deep, wrapping greed around the hearts of everyone in her life. She closed her eyes, longing for a tranquil world – a place where corruption and deception were non-existent. Where threats didn’t multiply by the hour.

The doorbell rang, jarring her upright.

Now what?
She crossed the room and peered through the peephole. The local florist was waiting on the front porch with an enormous bouquet in her hands. Rachel paused briefly before opening the door. “You sure you didn’t make a mistake?”

“
Says your name right here on the envelope. Either you have a secret admirer or a love interest is trying to make points.” The rotund, curly blond grinned from ear to ear. She’d been a close acquaintance of Rachel’s throughout high school, before their lives veered off in different directions. Now years later, while Rachel filled her days with Starbuck lattés, gym memberships and foundation business, her friend was raising five boys, running a flower shop, caring for a sick mother and presiding over the local rotary club.

“
Care to come in?” Rachel asked. “I have a bottle of wine open.”

“
Wish I could but I have two more stops before I pick up the boys at school, attend basketball practice and take the youngest to a dentist appointment. What I wouldn’t give for a day of leisure or a man with a sizeable checkbook.”

They both giggled.

“
Can I get a rain check?” her friend asked.

“
Absolutely.”

“
Then I’ll be back to collect in 20 years.”

The florist snickered as she hurried across the wet pavement to her waiting delivery van. As soon as she was gone, Rachel kicked the door shut behind her and set the heavy glass vase down on the dining room table. She tore the tissue free and leaned down to inhale the heady fragrance emanating from three dozen, perfect lavender roses.

Beautiful.
She extracted the envelope from its plastic stand and smiled, anticipating a thank you note from Chase. It seemed he was more considerate than she originally believed.

My heart has no defense for itself. My mind, no escape from the constant

desire to think of you. Without trying…without thought…I would give

myself for you. That’s why I know it’s true love. Why my eyes fill with

tears when I let myself think of all you are to me. I am truly smitten. My

whole being captured by all that you are. With your strengths…and what

you perceive as weaknesses. I will protect you with my life. With all I am.

Love,

Tom

Tom Nash?
“Unbelievable!” Rachel stared down at the note, reading it a second time. Apparently her boss was more enamored than she originally thought. Although sweet in his intent, his obsession had become disturbing. How could she ever face him again knowing the scope of his feelings?

A knock at the door sounded, setting her teeth on edge. She peered through the peek hole, dreading the possibility of Tom Nash making a personal appearance.

Fortunately, that wasn’t the case.

Dr. Ying’s assistant stood in the rain – her shoulders hunched more than usual. Without hesitation, Rachel opened the door and encouraged the frail woman’s advance.

"It’s nice to see you,” Rachel said. “I had no idea you knew where I lived.”

Eleanor tapped the dampness from her closed umbrella and leaned it against the entry. When she lifted her head, worrisome bags darkened her spectacles. “I’m sorry, Miss Lyons. I just need a few minutes of your time. Would that be all right?”

“
Of course. Please make yourself at home.”

Eleanor wandered inside. Still clutching a manila folder, she lowered herself onto the living room’s orange overstuffed chair.

"I stopped by the hospital to check on Dr. Ying this afternoon,” Rachel volunteered. “But no one would give me any information regarding his condition."

Eleanor’s hands were shaking. "Are you alone?"

“
Yes. What is it? Did something happen to Dr. Ying?" The woman appeared dazed and confused, adding angst to Rachel’s contentious mood.

"He’s resting comfortably at the moment,” she divulged, “but I'm actually here for another reason.”

Rachel held her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“
There’s something I desperately need to share with you – something that Lao's kept hidden for years." She peeled the folder away from her body and held it out before Rachel.

“
What’s this?” Rachel glanced at the brown elasticized folder and back at the woman’s cinched brow.

“
It’s…rather complicated. I’m not sure where to begin.”

Rachel looked at her wine glass and considered filling it to the brim. The world was getting bleaker by the minute. “Would you like me to make you some hot tea and you can–”

“
No, I’d rather you didn’t, dear. I need to get back to the hospital as soon as possible. I’d like to be there when Lao wakes up.”

“
Oh, sure. I understand.” But she didn’t. Not really.

Eleanor remained fixed on the edge of her seat, a timid bird teetering on despair. Emotion stole her voice, leaving it tight and uneven. "Lao told me he wanted to be left alone. That he had private matters to attend to. I returned to my desk and finished filing his papers. Then a policeman called to report a horrible incident involving his twin brother. After he hung up, I knocked on the professor's door but he didn't answer. When I opened it, I found him stumped over his desk, clutching his chest. Complaining of terrible pains. I dialed 9-1-1 and while we waited for the ambulance to arrive, he told me it was most urgent that I give you that file. He said to tell you his time is running out."

For what?
Rachel unstrapped the file, freeing its contents. She flipped through scrawled notes, postmarked envelopes, and aged newspaper clippings. Memorabilia providing more questions than answers. On closer inspection, she realized they were funeral announcements – printed and handwritten accounts involving the mysterious deaths of various members of the Ying family. A chronological history of tragedy spanning more than two hundred years.

“
I don't understand,” Rachel professed. “What does all this mean?"

"It's the curse," Eleanor answered. "A terrible plague against the captain of the
Wanli II
. Four hundred years ago, he stole a Chinese concubine’s gift intended for her lover. Lao's convinced the gods sought their revenge by driving the ship and everyone aboard under the sea."

"But what does any of that have to do with Dr. Ying and his family?"

"Lao is a direct descendent of Captain Zao Qing. As it turns out, the captain died aboard his ship at the age of sixty-nine, an omniscience number according to the professor. Since his death, none of the men in Lao’s family have outlived him. With the professor’s sixty-ninth birthday only one week away and his twin brother’s sudden death, he's convinced he’ll be next.”

“
But I don’t understand. What can
I
do? ”

“
There’s only one solution,” Eleanor replied. “The heart of the dragon. Lao said that if it’s found and returned to the rightful owner, the gods would be appeased. All will be forgiven and his grandsons will have the opportunity to live a long life."

Why the big secret?

Eleanor answered, as if reading her mind. “The professor had intended to tell you himself. But with this being a private matter, he didn’t want to overwhelm you. Especially after all the information he’d already provided.”

Rachel nodded her head thoughtfully. “I understand.”

She pulled a hand-scripted note from the file. The writing was instantly familiar.

Lao,

Chase and I agreed to help you believing we would all benefit in the end. But lately I’ve been having second thoughts. I wake up in cold sweats. I’ve been seeing strange visions under the ocean and even aboard my ship. Half the time I don’t know if I’m losing my mind or if we’re all cursed in this unholy mission. But wherever the truth lies, I need you to promise me one thing. If for some reason I don’t return next week, you’ll watch out for Rachel and make sure she’s happy and safe. She’ll always be my proudest accomplishment…all I care about in this world. Nothing, not even the dragon, is worth losing her.

Sam

Rachel held her breath for an endless moment. What was he afraid of? How did he know he was going to die? She could feel the pressure of unshed tears behind her eyes.

Why couldn’t he just tell her the truth? If only she’d known…

“
I know this is difficult,” Eleanor explained. “I wrote dozens of letters for the professor asking for assistance from exploration groups all over the world. As we expected, they all declined. Everyone except Mr. Cohen, that is. When he returned to San Palo, Lao’s hopes were resurrected along with this project. I felt it important to assure you, dear, there’s
no one
he trusts more than you.”

Rachel gathered the papers and clippings. She set her father's note on top.
Prophecy foretold a lion would save the heart of the dragon
. That’s what Dr. Ying had said. Perhaps in his own way, he'd alluded to the fact that the old dragon she'd been asked to rescue was none other than the professor himself.

She closed the file and took a weighted breath. "Tell Dr. Ying I’ll do whatever I can to help him.”

Eleanor smiled and ardently nodded. “You’re a remarkable person for doing this,” she said. After walking to the door and collecting her umbrella, she turned back around. “Oh, there’s one more thing I really should mention. It’s about the dragon’s heart, dear. You might notice a few letters in the file from a psychic in China. According to him, Mai Le’s ghost still guards her treasure. The mere sight of her can stop a man’s heart.”