Simone comes in the door with groceries. She likes to shop late at night because of her disdain for queues. According to her, life is too short to wait around for people to rummage through their personal belongings for cash, credit cards, and coupons. She has more important things to do with her spare time. Like fill me in about the goings-on of the world.
“Brazuca was at the meeting tonight,” she tells me. I nod and wait for her to continue. Which she does, as I help her pack away the groceries.
“He did not look good. I told him what you asked me to. That you’re gone and to forget about you.” She catches my look of relief. “I’m not sure it was the right thing to do, Nora. It’s supposed to be for his safety, but that man cares about you. He’s hurting.”
“At least he’s alive.”
“If he comes to me again, I’m not going to be able to lie. It felt awful to do it this time.”
She hands me a candy cane. I give it back. She shrugs, unwraps it, and pops an end into her mouth.
“Did you share? At the meeting?”
“Nope. But I went for coffee with Angela afterward. You don’t know her, she’s new. Just got through her first month sober.”
I nod. It’s an accomplishment we both understand.
We make dinner in silence. Simone gets through half the candy cane and tosses the rest into the trash. Her stint at rehab went well, she said. At the facility they had cooking workshops and she’s developed a love for tortilla soup. We make some more now, even though we haven’t finished the last batch Simone started on, before I showed up at her door. One of us will get tired of this soup eventually, I’m sure, but it won’t be today.
“Any luck on your end?” she asks. “With your guy?”
“Not yet. But I have high hopes for tonight.”
She sighs. “One day, having high hopes for a guy tonight is going to mean something different for you and I’ll be so proud.”
A laugh escapes me. “You sound like Leo.”
“Your dog sitter seems like a sensible person.”
She notices the look that crosses my face at the mention of my dog and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring Whisper up. I know how much you miss her. You’ll see her when this is over. And Bonnie, too. Dao can’t hide forever, and I’m shocked that he’s made it this far. Everyone is looking for him. I’m still monitoring all the news outlets and social media. The forums are lit with speculation about him. I’m going to know as soon as the fucker turns up. I’ve got that Fugitive Task Force number on speed dial.”
“Thank you.”
“What are friends for?”
Ever since she found me standing at her door with my wrists bandaged from the zip-tie abuse, she has been gentle with me. I explained that I didn’t try to kill myself and, after a while, she believed me. Her hair, nails, and lips are as brightly colored as ever, and she seems alright. Not great, but alright. She’s getting more vibrant by the day, which means rehab gave her back some of her spark. She has spent hours in her office catching up on her work contracts and monitoring the net. Like me, Simone prefers to be alone, but she leaves her door slightly ajar to let me know she’s there for me.
I want to ask about Brazuca, to have her describe him. I can’t think about him without picturing what he looked like bleeding in his car. Which reminds me of the car, and what happened.
Sitting there in the darkness with my wrists bloody and raw, it took me a split second to realize the man in the basement with me wasn’t Brazuca. It wasn’t Dao, either.
“I waited as long as I could,” Edison Lam’s man said. “Had to make sure no one else was in here. Had to make sure, also, that no one was going to show up anytime soon.”
He led me up the stairs and to a sliding door out back. I stumbled to the car and climbed into the rear seat. I put my hand over my heart to slow it down. I was nothing but a heartbeat in a rigid skeleton. If it wasn’t for that thump threatening to pound right out of my chest, I would have thought I was dead.
“I don’t think you were honest with us, Ms. Watts, when Mr. Lam asked you about his son’s death,” the bodyguard said, from behind the wheel.
“How did you find me?”
“I followed you to the apartment. Saw them take you. Then followed you from there.”
Of course that’s how it happened.
“They had me for a long fucking time!”
I caught his nod in the rearview mirror. “Yes, well. I wanted to see how it played out. Thought maybe David Tao would show up, but I realized the house was empty. There are cameras, but they’re not hooked up, and though there’s a security company sign on the lawn, there was no alarm.”
“Yes,” I said. “This is a property Nguyen owns, but he doesn’t live here.” Then I asked him about what’s been on my mind since I got taken. “What happened to Brazuca?”
“My colleague stayed behind to make sure he got to the hospital. He did. He’ll make it.” He glanced at me in the mirror. “There’s a bottle of water beside you.”
I drank the whole thing. The bodyguard who was now so obviously more than a bodyguard said nothing. We were on what appeared to be a dark country road with houses scattered at intervals. “I guess we’re going to see your boss,” I said.
Looking back, I’m not sure if a smile crossed his face or if I simply imagined it.
We didn’t go see his boss, Edison Lam. We went to the building where Leo was crashing, but he wasn’t there. So he took me to Simone’s place. In that car ride I told him everything I knew about Dao. He explained that Brazuca tipped him to the biker connection and that since the video of Bernard Lam’s murder had surfaced, Mr. Lam had been cooperating with the authorities.
“But they don’t know about your private investigation,” I said.
He shook his head.
I must have told him what I did because I was too tired to raise my normal defenses. There was no need to keep up with the innocent girlfriend act, which didn’t come naturally to me anyway. Plus, it’s easier to share your secrets with a stranger. I never asked him what his name was and he didn’t bother to tell me.
“Do you know where Dao is?” I asked.
“David Tao is likely in British Columbia, but we don’t know where. Van Nguyen is a new angle.”
“Is it safe to assume that Mr. Lam is continuing to investigate this privately? He’s not going to sit back and let the authorities in on this, is he?”
He didn’t answer, which was answer enough. “We’ll be in touch,” he said, before I got out of the car.
I’m guessing he wasn’t using the royal we. He’s not the queen. He was letting me know that he and Edison Lam will be wanting answers to their questions, but not that day. Out of deference to the time of night, my obvious state of distress, or for some other mysterious reason of his own.