Dirty Laundry

by Rhys Ford

  He must have had the knife in his pocket. Only a few inches long, it was a wide, strong steel, easily cutting through my soaked shirt and into my side. Grinning up at me with a maniacal smirk, he dug his elbow into the ground and twisted the blade, catching its tip on my ribs. The pain was intense, and I doubled over, nearly puking from the ache coiling around my abdomen. I rolled off, taking the blade with me. Clutching at the hilt, I was trying to pull it free when I heard a gun blast echo through the courtyard.

  Tensed, I curled up onto myself, quickly working through the numbness and pains I already had. A moment later, Bobby’s hand yanked my sliced shirt up and pressed against the deep, bleeding cut on my side. A few feet away, James Bahn lay still and pale. There was no mistaking the stippling of gunpowder on his skin. At some point during our fight, Bobby’d found the gun and fired it, nearly point-blank, into James’s neck.

  “Is he dead?” I coughed, and my wound leaked, the flaps of skin gulping like a dying goldfish.

  “Don’t know,” Bobby grunted at me, pressing harder on the cut. “Don’t care. Probably. Now shut up. I’ve got to get you to stop bleeding.”

  To tell the truth, he didn’t look much better than James. The cold had set its hooks in deep, and I was pretty sure we’d lose a toe or two from frostbite. Bobby hooked his arm under me and dragged me out of the landscaping. Not stopping until we were in the relative safety of the dry stairwell, he gripped my shoulders and stared me down.

  “What the fuck is it with you and crazies? It’s like you’re not happy unless someone insane is chasing you down.” He wrung his shirt out as much as he could and used it to staunch my wound. The hit he’d taken from James’s gun looked like it’d taken a chunk of meat out of his arm, and it began to bleed freely now that we were out of the deluge. “Think you can stay out of trouble long enough for me to go get my phone and call 911?”

  “Out of trouble, sure.” I grinned up at him, probably looking stupid from the pain. “Hey! One good thing—”

  “What the fuck could be good about this?” Bobby growled, grabbed my hand, and put it firmly on the damp shirt to hold it in place. “You tell me, Princess… what the fucking hell can be good about this shit?”

  Pointing at the knife wound in my side, I replied, “At least I didn’t get shot this time.”

  Chapter 22

  BY THE end of the next afternoon, I was sucking down handfuls of ibuprofen and wishing I’d taken the doctor’s offer of painkillers. Hearing me hiss in anguish for the twentieth time that day, Claudia gave me the evil eye over her granny glasses and pursed her mouth.

  “You’re going to kill your liver there, boy.” Mo looked up at her, and she shooed him back to his studying. “Not you, the idiot over here.”

  “I’m fine. Really,” I lied.

  It ached a little bit, but I wasn’t going to let the slight pain bother me. Or so I told my manly self. The knife went in a bit sideways, and other than a bone nick and minor muscle damage, it was mostly okay. I’d had worse. Hell, I’d have taken worse if it meant Bobby escaped unscathed, but I didn’t and he hadn’t. From the way he’d bitched at the emergency room when they’d begin poking him a local sedative, someone would have thought he’d been gutted by a Tyrannosaurus rex instead of getting a 9 mm slug into the meat of his upper arm.

  Three hours of his complaining, and when the doctor announcing the inevitable overnight stay to watch his vitals turned it into a full-blown typhoon of rage, I played the coward and let Claudia take a verbal strap to his ass.

  “Besides—” I smirked back at her, rocking back in my office chair. “Why do you keep coming in when the doctor told you not to? You got shot, you know.”

  “Boy—” Claudia inhaled hard, and I braced myself. Mo stepped in to save my ass, once more reminding me that one did not poke a simmering dragon with a look that clearly assessed me for mental stability and found me wanting.

  “Nana, it’s time to go. We’ve got to get going if we’re making dinner at Uncle Mace’s.” His backpack was already bulging with electronics and books. She huffed, and I slipped him a twenty, mouthing a thank you behind Claudia’s broad back. He palmed it like a pro, tucking it into his jeans pocket while I handed Claudia her cane.

  Then dodged when she tried to hit me with it.

  “Hah!” I almost stuck my tongue out, but she caught me with her backswing, smacking my calf. “Shit!”

  “Don’t think I can’t beat you down, Cole McGinnis.” Claudia shook her cane head at my nose. “Mo, help me down the stairs before I stay here and knock some sense into this man.”

  Detective Dexter Wong was climbing the steps when I opened the door for Claudia. He was sporting a new haircut, shorn nearly down to his scalp on the sides with a pouf of chunky spikes on top. It looked a little silly on him, but by the way he strutted up the stairs and gave Claudia a jaunty wave, I figured I couldn’t really give him shit about it. The gray polyester jacket, however, was fair game.

  “Man, you’re dressed like a bad seventies cop.” I followed him back into the office, dogging his steps. “Where’d you hide the Gran Torino?”

  “Fuck you, McGinnis.” His rejoinder lacked bite, especially compared to Claudia’s skilled cuts, but I wasn’t going to point that out either. “Sit down. I’m here to figure out what the hell you did yesterday.”

  I got Wong a soda from the fridge and handed it to him over the desk. Slumping down into my chair, I popped open my Diet Coke and sipped at the froth bubbling up over the tab. “What’s there to say you didn’t hear last night at the hospital?”

  “You were in the ER for what? Five minutes before Jae dragged you out of there? How much could I ask you?”

  “I wasn’t that hurt. He was happy to see me whole and hearty. Very happy. He even showed me how happy he was in the parking lot.”

  “I didn’t need that image in my head,” he moaned. “Also, I’m hiding from O’Byrne. She thinks I let you run all over this case and didn’t do anything to stop you.”

  “You didn’t.” A staple remover came flying at my shoulder, but it went wide, clattered across the floor, and came to a rest against the far wall. “She wasn’t too happy to see me when I stopped in at the hospital to see Hong Chul.”

  “Yeah, unhappy is an understatement.” Wong sighed. “James Bahn didn’t make it, you know. He was alive long enough to talk a bit to his mother and the cops but seized up on the table. They couldn’t resuscitate.”

  “Sort of figured that out on the scene. Bobby got him close range.” I’d seen too much bloodshed over the past week. Vivian’s death would haunt me, but I’d sleep better at night knowing James was dead.

  “Madame Sun’s packing up shop and heading back to Seoul. Guess Gyong-Si’s going to corner the market on fortune-telling around here.”

  “She lost her daughter and her son. Do you blame her?” I’d liked the ajumma. She seemed like a nice woman who’d been dealt a shitty hand in life.

  “No, it’s a pity, though. Bad enough her daughter was murdered, but to have her son be the killer?” He shook his head, the spikes on his head bobbing in waves.

  Thinking of Kim Hyun-Shik, I said, “I’ve seen it the other way around too. Sucks either way. Did James say anything about killing Shim?”

  “Yeah, I got to the ER when they were prepping him. He spilled his guts to his mother. Guess he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Amazing how many people find God when they’re knocking on Hell’s Gate.” Wong rested his elbows on his knees, gesturing with his soda can. “Shim popped Choi in her car and was waiting for Lee at her apartment. James paid him five thousand each for those hits. Vivian called him because she was going to be late for a dinner they were supposed to go to. So James knew where she was going to be and figured he’d take the chance to take her out.”

  “With not a damned thought about what it would do to his mother?”

  “Nope. When she told him she was going to be at that coffee shop, James drove and parked his car on the street outside the
window. Since the entrance to the place is inside the courtyard, he figured no one would connect his vehicle to what was going on. Shim met him there, sat in the passenger seat, and waited for a clear shot. Then they took off into traffic when the shit hit the fan.”

  “Shim didn’t wait for a clear shot. He lit the fucking place up,” I reminded Wong. “It was like Elmer Fudd at a bunny ranch.”

  “Darren Shim was not known for being a stable young man,” Wong drawled. “Or for being very patient. James apparently didn’t have the money on him, so Shim decided he’d go collect it in person. James denied telling Shim to come to Madame Sun’s place of business the next day. I guess Shim decided he was going to show James he was dealing with a badass and collect what was owed him.”

  “So James bashing his head in with the urn to protect his mother was real?” If I sounded skeptical, Wong’s expression bordered on intense cynicism. “Really?”

  “That’s what James told his mother,” Wong replied slowly. “She seemed happy to hear her son wasn’t a total bastard. It might have gone down the way he said. The attack on Madame Sun wasn’t planned. Shim did it on his own. James killed him defending his mother.”

  “Huh. Maybe,” I conceded. “He had a deep hate for Gyong-Si. Blamed the man for his parents’ divorce. I guess when Vivian showed up out of the blue, it pissed him off. His mother was bending over backward for the daughter. When Vivian wasn’t appreciative enough, James was done. He did say killing Gyong-Si was the ultimate goal. Hurting Gyong-Si by killing off his kids was just a bonus.”

  “We’re guessing Hong Chul’s grandfather, Bhak Bong Chol, told James all about Gyong-Si’s children. He must have let his own hatred of Gyong-Si slip out when he was having a consultation, and James pounced on it.” I’d turned over Bhak’s papers late last night, along with the notes we’d taken from them, but most of it was nonsensical.

  “No word on if James had something to do with the grandfather’s death. He was cremated, so there’s nothing to run tox on,” Wong supplied. “Captain said to let that one sit. Not worth pursuing. Well, not without causing the family a lot of unnecessary pain.”

  “Yeah, probably best. Some of his notes were kind of crazy.”

  “His daughter said Bhak was suffering from some sort of dementia. I’m surprised you guys got anything out of what he wrote down. Good job working it out, though. Even though it almost got you killed.” He made a face, mostly apologetic, but I wouldn’t put money on it. “Bobby doing good?”

  “Yeah, I picked him up this morning. Half of the guys in his little black book are fighting over each other to take care of him.” Sipping my drink, I snorted out at the carbonation tickling my nose. “Right now, his apartment probably looks like No Cover Charge Twink night at the Slip-n-Slide.”

  “Got word Abby Park’s going to be okay. Her liver’s responding to whatever meds they put her on.” Wong made a show of flipping through his notebook, crossing things off with a pen he’d stolen from Claudia’s desk. “And I got a hold of the Yis. The mother apparently broke her tooth on something and Terry took her to the dentist. That’s why they weren’t around when James showed up.”

  “Good. Honestly, I went over there to see if she knew anyone who hated Gyong-Si. I was hoping for a lead.”

  “She’s a trip.” He chuckled. “She’s the one who told Terry to get a job with Gyong-Si. Thought it would be a good way for him to get to know his father. Of course, she didn’t really believe Gyong-Si was gay. First thing she asked Terry when she found out was if Gyong-Si hit on him.”

  “God, don’t go there.” I shuddered. “Terry’s a good kid. Wonder if he and Hong Chul are going to get together now that they know they’re brothers.”

  “Don’t know. It’ll be nice for them. Brothers are good to have.”

  Even knowing Mike as well as I did, I’d want to have him around. Ichiro was easier to like, but we were still in a honeymoon stage of sorts. Or maybe it was just easier to get along with someone if you were too old to fight over the toy from a box of cereal.

  “Yeah, they’re good to have.” Nodding in agreement, I gave the chair a few squeaks. “Although mine seems not to be as good at reading because he got Lee confused with Yi.”

  “Was it in English or Korean? The writing?”

  “The writing? Probably both. The guy really had shitty writing, so I’ve got to cut Ichi some slack. So what now? O’Byrne going to nail me for impeding an investigation?” I wouldn’t have put it past her. When she’d shown up at the ER, I was lucky to have survived, with her shouting at me until a nurse kicked her out. “Last time I saw her, she was measuring my head to hang above her desk at the station.”

  “Yeah, Captain’s not too happy with either of us. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a bright, shiny patrol car to tool around in when I’m giving out parking tickets. We’ll see.” Wong sighed mournfully. “Okay, I’ve got to get home to the girlfriend. We’re supposed to go out to dinner with my parents. My mom’s already hinting about grandkids. I think I’m going to tell her we’re going to get a dog and see if we can’t keep it alive first. Then I’ll think about having kids.”

  I WALKED Wong out after locking the office up. Someone in the neighborhood was prepping for the cooler weather from the sounds of wood being split nearby. Rubbing at my injured side, I gave myself permission to be lazy and order in a few stacks of seasoned eucalyptus.

  Seeing the white Explorer parked beside my Rover made me smile, and I forgot all about any aches and pains.

  Jae was waiting for me on the stoop, sitting on the cold cement and smoking a kretek. The aromatic clove smell drifted toward me, greeting my approach with a fragrant kiss. He’d dug through my clothes again, unearthing a dark green fisherman’s sweater Maddy brought back for me from Killybegs. Jae swam in it, and he’d pulled down its hem until it covered his knees, probably hoping it would keep his legs warmer than his torn jeans could. A box of groceries sat on the cement behind him, the end of a large butternut squash and a bunch of leeks peeking out over the top.

  “Hey, that co-op thing you joined dropped stuff off?” He didn’t look up. Instead, his eyes were fixed off into the distance, not even focused on the popsicle-stick-slat fence separating my long lot from the neighbors. I leaned over to kiss him and got a chunk of hair instead of the mouth I’d been aiming for. “Jae, you okay?”

  “Babe?” I got no response so I tried again. “Jae?”

  “Where’s Tiffany? Do you know? She’s not answering her phone.” He turned his face toward me, but his eyes were still unfocused, pinned to anywhere but my face. It was a dead look, as if something inside of him was withering away in front of me. “I thought she was here with you.”

  “Maddy took her and Sissy out for a girl’s afternoon. She was supposed to tell you. From what I heard, they’re buying up LA.” I touched his cheek, finding it chilled from the wind. It stung when he flinched, but when Jae leaned into the cup of my palm, I sighed in silent relief. “Talk to me, honey.”

  “They’re moving here… to Los Angeles. I told you, ne? My mother and Jae-Su.” He sounded worse than numb, his lips barely moving as he spoke. “I guess Ree too. I… don’t know. She—fuck, Cole-ah. I don’t know.”

  “Yeah, you told me.” I sat down next to him. He looked too brittle to touch, but I slung my arm around his waist. “Did your mom call you to tell you when?”

  “No, she called to tell me… I’m no longer her son.” He broke in front of me, his control shattering under the weight of his words. I tried to pull him closer, confused and unsure about what to do, but Jae pulled away, keeping a bit of distance between us. “Cole-ah, she knows. She really does know this time. She—”

  Any pain I’d ever experienced, even grabbing at Rick in those final moments between us, didn’t hurt as much as seeing Jae crumble. Whatever he had going on inside of him was devastating, an emotional massacre he didn’t have a chance in hell of surviving.

  “Babe, I need you to talk to me.” I scooted closer, pre
ssing tight against him. “What happened? What the fuck happened? Did Tiff talk to her? I thought she was cool with us. She said she was going to be okay with us!”

  “My aunt, Hyun-Shik’s mother, called her. She told my mother everything. That she’d found me with hyung… having sex with him, and that I’d been at Dorthi Ki Seu. Everything, Cole-ah… including… us.” Jae’s chest hitched, a sob caught somewhere in his throat. “All because my mother is coming to Los Angeles with Jae-Su… because Uncle wants his son. My aunt… had to hurt her… hurt me.”

  “Your aunt told her?” There weren’t enough foul words I could come up with. Rage filled every crevice of my being and spilled out through my mouth. “Fucking bitch. Why? What the hell would she do that for? You bent over backward for her. You did everything you could for that c—”

  “She was jealous… is jealous.” Jae finally looked at me, and I recoiled at the pain in his face. He was laid bare in front of me, carved up and left for dead by the woman who’d given birth to him. “So she told my mother I’m… like this. How I whored myself, letting men fuck me, and that’s how I was supporting the family. By selling my ass to men like Hyun-Shik… or to you. My aunt destroyed me… my family… because she—”

  “Because she’s a fucking bitch,” I whispered, reaching for Jae’s shoulders to fold him into a hug. He didn’t fight me, collapsing into my arms. Shaking, he began to cry, a noiseless weeping strong enough to send shockwaves through his body. Rocking him, I stroked at his hair and kissed the top of his head. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”