They cleared the worst of the traffic surrounding LAX and took the ramp onto the 105. They would switch to the 110 before getting on to the 10 freeway that would take them all the way out to Arcadia.
Ty was driving but they had elected to take Lock’s car. A pearl grey Audi RS7 was a better match for a job that demanded a low profile than Ty’s tricked-out purple 1966 Lincoln Continental, with its leopard-spot suede interior and the sound system that Lock was convinced Ty had bought from a dance club. Ty had many great qualities, but keeping a low profile was not one of them.
As Ty wove through traffic, Lock did his best to gather what intel he could on the man who wanted their help. The information available online did not suggest a man who’d find himself in the middle of a double abduction.
The unwillingness to involve law enforcement worried Lock. The first hours after a kidnap or abduction were the most crucial. Whether they were local, state or federal, law enforcement possessed expertise and resources that no one else could come close to offering.
It suggested that more was going on. Maybe something illegal or straight-up criminal. That was the usual reason for people who didn’t wish to involve the cops when a crime was committed.
Of course, there was another factor. One that Lock couldn’t ignore. Immigrants and immigrant communities often had a built-in reluctance to involve law enforcement, especially when they came from a country where institutions were either corrupt or incompetent.
Lock wasn’t sure how much either of those charges would apply in China. It was such a vast nation that he imagined there were places where the cops were on the ball and fairly straight up, and others where they weren’t. He’d have to explain to their new potential client that the cops here could be trusted, and did a good, often exceptional, job.
“So what you got on this guy?” Ty asked, piloting the Audi across two lanes to make the transition to the 10.
“Not a whole lot,” said Lock, scrolling down his phone.
“Twenty-nine years old. Chinese national. Moved to the States to study for his MBA. Was already working for a heavy business hitter back home who paid his fees. Now he manages the guy’s property and business interests out here on the west coast, and his kids by the look of it.”
“Man, I hope he’s doing a better job with the real estate.”
“We don’t know what’s happened to them yet. Maybe they’re out partying and he’s jumped to the wrong conclusion. There’s no ransom note and no contact from any kidnapper.”
“False alarm?” said Ty.
“It’s a possibility.”
“That might explain why he wanted us to check it out first, rather than call the cops and get them all up in his business.”
“It might,” agreed Lock. “Or he’s panicked and thinks he can deal with it himself without his boss back home finding out.”
“We have any steer on who’s missing?” asked Ty.
“One male, one female. Both family members of his boss, but he didn’t say how they’re related. They’re both over eighteen, but he was asked to keep an eye on them while they’re studying over here.”
Ty made a low whistling noise. “Boss’s family. Best not be asking for a raise anytime soon. Li told his boss yet?”
“No idea.”
“So, we have a couple of kids who may or may not be missing,” said Ty, summarizing. “May or may not have been kidnapped. No motive if they have been or idea who took them. No one wants to call the cops, and no one knows if their family’s been told. Sounds like a complete mess.”
“In other words, just our kind of gig,” said Lock.
Lock’s phone beeped. He had texted Li Yeng and asked for the names of the two missing individuals. There was no point waiting until they got there for the information. He opened the reply.
“What he say?”
“Will discuss when you get here,” said Lock, reading the text to Ty.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” said Ty.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Hard to work with someone who won’t give up any information.”
Lock’s cell rang. It was Li Yeng.
“Ryan Lock.”
“Mr. Lock, I apologize. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that this information is very sensitive, and I never fully trust electronic communication.”
That made some kind of sense to Lock. It was easy to forget that paranoia wasn’t really paranoia when you grew up in a country where people disappeared if they said something that someone in power deemed out of turn. He was prepared to cut the guy some slack. “Okay, well, listen, we’re about twenty minutes out. You can bring us up to speed when we meet.”
“I appreciate your understanding. I’ll see you at the house.”
The call completed, Lock turned to Ty.
“I heard,” said Ty.
“There’s something else that’s bothering me about this,” said Lock.
“Listen, about the airport, if I’d known Carmen was collecting you . . .”
“Not that. You guys will just have to fight it out for my affections. No, what I’m wondering is, why us? If this is a missing persons or a kidnap for ransom there’s a bunch of people he could have called. LA County is crawling with ex cops doing PI work.”
“Maybe it’s that cop thing again,” offered Ty. “If the guy won’t even share names over the phone, why would he involve someone who might just go straight to law enforcement?”
“And he thinks we won’t?” said Lock.
“Given our recent record . . .” said Ty. He didn’t need to finish. A few weeks ago both of them had been in cuffs, and one of the charges Ty was facing involved locking a member of the Long Beach Police Department in the trunk of his own patrol car.
“I hear you,” said Lock.