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“Don’t bullshit me, Rena,” Dee spoke on the phone while pacing in her living room, ten minutes later. “Why does Jonathan think this baby is his?”
“Dee,” she whimpered. “It’s been killing me thinking about how I betrayed you. I’m so sorry.”
“Then help me now. Be honest with me. What the hell’s going on?”
“I tried to stop him.” Rena blubbered. “He said you were his, and that he was tired of waiting for you to come to him.”
Dee closed her eyes, shivering.
“He had sex with you.” The words caught in Rena’s throat. “In front of us.”
Dee covered her mouth, churning with shame, rage and guilt.
“I got sick and had to leave.” Rena sniffled. “The others wouldn’t let me help you. They held me back.”
Dee wobbled from side to side, squealing.
“That wasn’t the only time. He’d drug your drinks and go to your room at night.”
Dee huffed and puffed, hyperventilating.
“Dee, I’m so sorry. I hate myself for letting it happen. I didn’t have the heart to tell you—”
“No!” She threw the phone across the room. “That son of a bitch!” She marched to the mantel and in one swipe, shoved the pictures and vase onto the floor. “That...ooh!” She ripped books off shelves and tossed candles. “You’re gonna pay for this, Jonathan!” She snatched the pillows off the couch and threw them. “Ah!” She kicked over the plant in the corner and ripped down the curtains. “No.” As the rage subsided, she slid to her knees, holding the curtains to her chest. “This can’t be true.” She cried into her hands. “God, no.”
****
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Pak.” Dee watched the inquisitive Korean woman who sat in the interrogation room the next morning. “You believe you have information for us?”
“It’s about my seventeen-year-old stepson, Sung.” Min-jung set her giant Gucci purse on the floor beside her feet. “I think he knows something about the Kengs murder.”
Connie sat on the table, swinging her leg. “What makes you think this?”
Min-jung took a notebook from her purse. “I found this in his room last night.”
Dee took it and looked through a list of names including the Keng family and Tommy Kim. The Kengs’ and Tommy’s names were scratched out. “What is this?”
“I was thinking a hit list perhaps,” Min-jung said.
Connie checked out the notebook. “Isn’t that an odd conclusion to jump to?”
“Sung’s been acting funny since the murder. He’s jumpy and irritable and when those other kids come around, he changes. Like he’s not even himself.”
“What kids?” Dee asked.
“His clique.” Min-jung shrugged. “I’ve always had a bad feeling about them. They act all secretive and refer to themselves as a club.”
Connie scrunched her face. “You’re not talking about the K-Town Crips, are you?”
“No.” Min-jung took a picture out her wallet. “Here’s a photo of Sung and his friends I snatched from his room.”
The teens stood in stiff, erect poses wearing green army jackets with a yellow symbol on the shoulder.
“That’s Priti Yi.” Dee pointed to Priti standing beside August and the other boys who’d been in the car with Priti when Dee and Connie first met her.
“This is Sung,” Min-jung alluded to the feminine boy who was driving Priti and the boys that day.
“What’s that say on the jackets they’re wearing?” Dee struggled to read the letters on the yellow symbol. “I can’t make it out.”
Connie squinted at the photo. “KTA I think. What’s KTA?” she asked Min-jung.
“I have no idea.”
Connie wiggled her mouth. “Maybe they’re a gang.”
Dee shrugged.
“Why would Sung have this notebook and the only ones with names scratched out are dead?” Min-jung shook her head. “None of it makes sense.”
Dee sprung from her chair. “We gotta see what these kids have been up to.”
Connie stared at the photo. “Let’s start with Priti.”
****
That evening, Dee and Connie followed Priti’s car off the highway and into the woods.
Dee turned her Malibu onto the rickety, desolate road, being careful so Priti didn’t see them.
“Easy.” Connie rocked from side to side as Dee navigated through the bumpy surface and deeper into the trees.
She leaned forward, squinting. “Where in the world is this girl going?”
“It’s creepy as hell out here.” Connie gripped the center console. “I’m not in the mood to see Jason any time soon.”
“If Jason doesn’t want to get his ass kicked he better stay wherever the hell he’s at.” Dee followed Priti to a rickety shed made of rotted planks and holes in the roof.
Connie straightened in the seat. “What the hell?”
Priti turned off the car but didn’t get out.
Dee parked behind a cluster of trees and out of sight. “Why would she be driving all the way out here to go to a damn shed?”
“Looks like a hideout.”
A black Mitsubishi banging a Drake song emerged from the wooded trail and parked by Priti’s car.
“It’s the guys,” Dee said. “What a surprise.”
Priti, August, Sung, and the other Asian boy, exited their vehicles at the same time.
Priti and Sung exchanged heated words in Korean and the others joined in.
“They’re fighting,” Connie whispered.
The men surrounded Priti as she carried on, waving her arms.
Dee sighed. “How much you wanna bet she’s telling them we spoke to her earlier?”
“Yep.” Connie crawled her fingers through her hair. “And, they don’t seem too happy.”
August got in Priti’s face while the other boy Connie and Dee couldn’t identify, pulled August away.
“Enough,” the boy said. “We got more important things to think about.”
“Then the cops giving us shit, Val?” August stood in a wide stance. “I can’t think of anything more important right now.”
“We came here to practice,” Sung said. “Save that energy for the targets, August.”
“Targets?” Dee repeated.
Sung opened the trunk of the Mitsubishi.
The boys grabbed semiautomatics while Priti got a handgun.
“Holy shit.” Connie took quick breaths.
The group examined the guns, aiming them around.
Val perched the shotgun on his shoulder. “Let’s do this.”
They slipped on goggles and protective earmuffs and walked through the trees.
Dee and Connie jumped out the car and followed.
The teens walked for a minute and stopped at a clearing.
Large, porcelain and glass animal statues stood in a circle.
Dee and Connie stooped behind a tree.
Sung shouted in Korean, and the others aimed their weapons toward the animals.
They shot, spraying the statues with bullets until they split in tiny pieces.
“Ah.” Dee covered her ears, the high-pitch popping slicing through her eardrums.
Connie gripped the sides of her head, flinching.
Priti took rhythmic shots while the boys double-handed their firearms and blasted bullets with aggression.
“My god.” Dee gaped, surprised and impressed at the group’s effortless accuracy.
The youngsters shot up the animals, not only breaking them but erasing any evidence of their existence.
“Wo-hoo!” August raised his gun after they’d massacred the statues. “That was off the chain.”
The others laughed and fist-bumped each other while Connie and Dee hightailed it back to Dee’s car.
They got in and sunk into their seats, huffing and puffing.
“Jesus Christ,” Connie said. “Dee—”
“Did you see that shooting? I know cops who’ve been on the force for years that can’t shoot like that. Someone trained the hell out of them.”
“I could definitely see them shooting up the Kengs without batting an eye.” Connie licked her lips between panting. “We need evidence besides a notebook and a hunch though.”
“We’d better get it fast.” Dee’s breathing calmed. “Before the others in that notebook end up dead.”