Ginny dialed the number for Tammy Jean’s Cajun Cafe in Oakland. Her parents had opened Tammy Jean’s—named for Ginny’s paternal grandmother, her favorite granny, who’d been killed in Hurricane Katrina—shortly after they’d settled in California. At first, Dad had done most of the cooking, and Mom had managed the staff. The restaurant had been a success, and they opened another one, then bought a couple of other fledgling restaurants and made successes of them. Neither of Ginny’s parents had worked in the restaurants in years. They’d spent their time managing them and, in Dad’s case, serving on some committees for non-profits, doing overseas traveling for business—what business, she had no idea—and playing golf.
It had never occurred to Ginny before her dad’s death, but it did seem odd that a handful of restaurants could make enough money to afford her family the lifestyle they’d lived.
She checked her watch. Two o’clock on the East Coast meant eleven a.m. in California. The phone rang three times before a breathless woman answered. “Tammy Jean’s.”
“Britt, is that you?”
A pause, then, “Ginny? Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe it.” Ginny could picture the pretty server. “How are you?”
Such a loaded question, but Britt didn’t need to know all the details of Ginny’s life. “I’m fine. Is Wang Lei around?”
A little gasp. “Your mom didn’t tell you?”
Ginny didn’t have time for Britt’s dramatic streak right now. “Tell me what?”
Britt lowered her voice to nearly a whisper. “He was murdered.”
Ginny’s stomach looped. “Oh no. When?”
“It’s been a while. Last fall, maybe September? It was right before your mom sold the place.”
“She sold it?”
There was a beat of silence. “You didn’t know?”
“We don’t… I moved away. I don’t talk to her much.”
“Still, though, that’s totally weird that she wouldn’t tell you.”
Britt didn’t know the half of it.
“Can I speak to the new manager?”
“The owner’s here. Hold on a sec. And hey, when you’re in town, stop by. I’d love to see you again.”
Not that Ginny would ever go back to the San Francisco area, but she said, “That’d be great.”
While she waited, Ginny opened a new document on her laptop and typed Wang Lei, murdered, September. Business sold right after.
Finally, a man came on the line. “This is Ted.”
“Hi Ted. This is Ginny Lamont, Darlene’s daughter. I was wondering—”
“Look, Ginny, is it?”
“I—”
“I bought this business with cash.” His voice was loud enough that Ginny pulled the phone away from her ear. “Sunk everything I own into it, and I’m not going to let your people wrench it away from me.”
“Wait, I’m just trying—”
“We’re legitimate now, got it? Don’t call here again. And don’t come in. I’ll have the cops on you so fast your head’ll spin.”
The phone slammed in its cradle, and Ginny winced at the sound.
What in the world?
She typed the gist of the conversation into a document, her hands shaking. It wasn’t often she got yelled at by perfect strangers. And had them threaten to call the cops on her, as if she were a criminal.
When she’d noted what he said, she pushed back from the kitchen table and got a glass of water.
It was okay. She could do this.
There were plenty of other businesses to call, other people to ask. Somebody would give her the information she needed. Somebody had to know what kinds of people her parents had been involved with.
She returned to the computer and her phone and dialed her parents’ second largest restaurant, another Cajun place, this one in Richmond.
But the manager had quit, and nobody knew where he’d gone.
The restaurant had been sold, and the new owner refused to speak to her.
When she called the third restaurant on the list, there was no answer. A quick Google search told her the place had closed its doors.
More calls, no answers. All the restaurants her parents had owned had been sold or closed, the managers gone.
Ginny finished typing a final note, then pushed back from the table. She moved into the living room and paced. Those restaurants had been her mother’s largest source of income. Why would she sell them?
Why would somebody want Wang Lei dead?
She knew her parents were into something illegal. The restaurants must have been involved. She’d only hoped to ask the managers if they knew anything. Having worked so closely with her parents all those years, she thought maybe they’d picked up on something or knew if her parents had had enemies. But now… The managers had been in on it, whatever it was. Or at least somebody thought they had.
But what?
She felt like the answer was so obvious, it was staring her in the face.
“Think, Ginny.” But she didn’t have enough information.
Back at the table, she took a deep, calming breath, and dialed the club.
Most of the time, she didn’t allow herself to dwell on the fact that her parents owned a place like Pretty Little Things.
She’d heard her parents discussing “pretty things,” but hadn’t known what they were talking about, and when she asked, they just waved it and her away. Just one of our businesses. Not your concern.
And of course, she hadn’t investigated, too wrapped up in her own life to care.
But then she’d seen the name on her dad’s desk, and she’d looked up the address.
Not exactly the classiest area of town. The next time she’d gone downtown, she’d driven by it, thinking she’d go in, maybe introduce herself to the manager, see what kind of place it was. Pretty Little Things—she’d imagined a gift store.
It was the curvy, cartoon women on the sign that gave it away.
And the blacked-out windows.
Her parents owned a strip club.
Fine. Whatever. She’d never known anything about it, and she didn’t want to know now. But she needed information. She found the number and dialed.
The man who answered the phone sounded bored. “Pretty Little Things. We open at four. We take cash and credit cards. No checks. We serve a full menu. Need anything else?”
“Uh… Yeah. Hi. I’m looking for the manager.”
“You got him. I’m always looking for new girls, so just come in—”
“No, no.” Her cheeks burned at the thought. “I’m not looking for a job. I’m calling because… How long have you worked there?”
“You a reporter or something?”
“No. Um…” She vacillated about telling him who she was.
“A cop?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
“Look, I know what you’re asking. It’s a bad idea for you to come. Maybe you think it’ll be fun, a lark, but trust me, you don’t want to be here. Anything else?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I’m a little discombobulated. See, I think my parents used to own that club, and I’m trying to… to learn about their business.”
“If they don’t own it anymore, then it isn’t their business.”
An excellent point. “My name is Ginny Lamont. My parents used to own your… club. I wondered if they still do.”
When the man spoke again, his voice had lowered to nearly a growl. “I bought the place last fall. Your parents’ associates have been sniffing around, trying to get in with me, but I got no desire to go to prison for a bunch of crooks. I make all the money I need. So if that’s what you’re—”
“What kind of… of work did they do? I mean…” She was struggling to articulate. “My parents were into something illegal. What do you know about that?”
There was a long pause before the man’s voice softened. “Listen. If you don’t know, then you’re lucky. Don’t dig in someone else’s graveyard. Let it go.”
&n
bsp; “I can’t. Somebody’s after me.”
The man uttered a curse word under his breath. “Then you’re as good as dead.”
As good as dead.
Ginny pushed away from the table and stood. She wasn’t going to write that in her notes. That would make it too real.
She looked around her kitchen, her dining area. Everything was the same, but dread and fear crawled at her back. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her middle.
As good as dead.
She walked into the living room, pulled in a couple of breaths, and blew them out. She was safe here. She checked the new lock on the back door, then crossed to the front. Both doors were bolted shut. The windows were barricaded.
Her gun had been lots of different places since she’d gotten it Saturday. In her night stand, in her purse, in the little drawer in her coffee table. Every spot she’d found for it either seemed too exposed or too far away to do her any good.
Right now, it was in a drawer in the kitchen. She pulled it out, set it on the counter.
She was safe.
For now.
But what would happen when the intruder came back? Would she be safe then?
As good as dead.
She didn’t want to think about her parents anymore. She needed to get out of the house.
A walk would make her feel better, but it wasn’t just raining. It was pouring, and the wind was whipping. No umbrella in the world could protect her from that.
Fine. She’d drive. She just couldn’t be alone right now. She needed people. She needed…
She grabbed her phone and dialed.
Kade answered on the second ring. “Hey.”
His voice relaxed her a little. “Working hard?”
She heard a few taps on a keyboard, then, “I think I’m ready for tomorrow.”
“Did you hear from the guy from Friday?”
“I’m still waiting. It’s killing me.”
She’d never asked a man out, but she needed a distraction badly. “I’ve been stuck in the house all day. I thought maybe, if you had time, we could, I don’t know…” Ugh, she should have thought this through. It was too late for lunch, too early for dinner, and pouring rain.
“Let’s take a drive,” he said. “It’ll kill time while I wait to hear from Sokolov.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you’re busy.”
She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
By the time she’d thrown on makeup, put on her shoes, and grabbed her things, he was pulling into her driveway. She slipped on her hooded raincoat, activated her alarm, and ran out to meet him.
She slid into his passenger seat feeling both excited and embarrassed that she’d called. “Hi.” She took off the black hood that made her look like the grim reaper.
“Hi yourself.” He faced her, and a grin spread across his face. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He looked beautiful, too. Strong and kind and protective.
“Where shall we go?” he asked.
“I don’t care. Anywhere but my house right now.”
His grin faded. “Did something happen? Something I should—”
“No more intruders, and the alarm works great. I feel very safe there.” Mostly. Except when people three thousand miles away told her she was as good as dead. “It’s just claustrophobic on a day like today. And I’ve had a rough couple of hours.”
He backed out of her driveway and headed away from town. “Doing what?”
“I called the businesses my parents used to own.”
“Used to? What happened?”
“Looks like Mom sold them.” She gave him the rundown on her phone calls. She didn’t mention that one of the businesses was a strip club. And she held back the last man’s final remark. She wanted to tell him, but… It all sounded so crazy. She didn’t want Kade to think she was being dramatic. And she knew what he’d say—that she should tell Brady what was going on. She wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not.
It would be one thing to give the duffel bag to the person who’d broken into her house. It would be entirely different to start something that might land her mother in prison.
When she was done, he said, “What do you think about what you’ve learned so far?”
“My parents were criminals. That much is clear. And they were into something dangerous.”
He was nodding. “You don’t have any guesses?”
“How could I? I was just a kid, and then I went to college. I should have paid better attention. I should—”
“Don’t do that.” He took her hand. The connection with him, after everything she’d learned, stirred something in her heart. His hand was warm. His eyes were kind when he glanced at her. He knew all these ugly things about her, but he wasn’t backing off.
He braked at a stop sign and faced her. “You can’t go back in time, and it’s not as if your knowing would have changed anything. I’m glad your parents protected you at least a little.” He focused forward again, but not before she saw the way his lips tightened, pulled down at the corners.
“What? What did that look mean?”
“Just that…” He signaled, then turned onto a street she’d never traveled before. The homes were far apart, probably each on its own acre, and set far off the main road, hardly visible through the rain. Lights shone here and there, but mostly it was a dark road on a dreary, oppressive day.
She started to prompt him to finish his statement, but he squeezed her hand and continued. “I’m just trying to imagine what it would be like to have parents who hadn’t protected me. Not that we were in a lot of dangerous situations, but I always knew I could count on their support. I still can.” He glanced at her. “I’m sorry you don’t know what that’s like.”
A wave of… What was it? Affection, tenderness? It overwhelmed her, made her want to scoot closer and cuddle against his side. To feel the protection he was taking about.
Thank heavens for the center console that kept her firmly in her seat.
They’d spent the entire weekend together. He’d said their lunch Saturday was a date, yet he’d not kissed her that day or since. The few guys she’d dated in the past had been pretty eager to get to the kissing part of the relationship—and beyond. Which was why she’d never had a boyfriend for very long. She’d never trusted any of them enough to go beyond.
Now here she was with a guy she did trust, possibly too much, and he hadn’t even tried to kiss her.
Maybe he was over the idea of dating her. Maybe all her troubles made him want to run.
Of course. She had a target on her back. Why would anybody who knew the truth about her want to be near her?
And yet, here he was. Holding her hand, spending time with her.
She didn’t know what to think. She did know she liked him. A lot. Maybe too much. Maybe she was already falling in love. And falls weren’t exactly stoppable. A person didn’t get halfway into a fall and then change her mind.
Ginny felt like she’d taken a leap off a high cliff, and there was no escaping what would come next.
And she didn’t want to escape it. Because she believed in love. Even though she’d rarely witnessed it, even though she’d never seen it demonstrated in her own family, she believed in true, abiding love. She believed in soul mates and happily-ever-afters. She believed in strong families and good parents and children who felt secure. She’d never had it, but she believed in it, and she wanted it.
And right now, regardless of how Kade felt about her, she believed in him.
“I’m sorry,” Kade said. “I shouldn’t judge your family.”
Based on the tone of his voice, he’d misread her silence for offense. “With everything I’ve told you, you have every right to judge. And you’re right. They didn’t protect me. They didn’t even particularly like me. My mom didn’t, anyway. Kathryn did when we were girls, but that changed when she went to college. Dad loved me in his own
way.”
Kade said nothing, but she could tell by the way his lips were pressed together what he thought of her father’s love.
She touched the necklace her father had given her. Dad had loved her.
But Kade was right, too. A good father would never have done what hers had. She knew that. She knew what she’d received from her father was a pale imitation of true fatherly love. But it was all she knew.
“Did your mother sell the condo?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t look into that. I sort of just picture her there.”
“You really think she sent you running to safety and didn’t protect herself?”
Reluctantly, Ginny pulled her hand from Kade’s and slid her phone from her purse. She checked the real estate listing website. Her mother’s house hadn’t been listed for sale, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t sold. Kathryn’s house hadn’t been listed, either.
She went to the San Francisco County’s real estate assessor’s website and typed in the address of the condo she’d called home for much of her life.
The details of the property loaded.
“She sold it in September.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “So she sold everything.”
“Yup.”
“Maybe you should call her, see if she’ll tell you what’s going on.”
Ginny set her phone in the center console and crossed her arms against the chill.
Kade adjusted the heat. “Bad idea?”
She sighed. “It’s such a good idea, I did it on Saturday.”
He looked at her, then back at the road. “You didn’t tell me.”
“It’s… embarrassing.”
He laid his hand on her knee, palm up. An invitation she happily took as she slipped hers into it.
“Your mother’s behavior is not a reflection of you. What happened?”
“I told her about Kathryn, but she already knew.”
“I thought you said they hadn’t spoken in years.”
“We have a… a thing we’re supposed to do when we relocate. Mom told me when she sent me away. We’re supposed to call her and tell her where we are and give her the new address in case she needs it.” Ginny left out the part about always calling from a burner. That was too weird.
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