They sipped their coffee quietly, finishing it all before exiting the room and driving away in the Monte Carlo.
Walter drove. Alonzo rode shotgun.
Their destination wasn’t far from where they were staying—a ten-minute drive tops—just slightly outside the downtown area.
It was a little before six in the morning and the sun had just cracked the horizon when Walter parked on the quiet street lined with older, ranch-style homes. They slipped quietly out of the vehicle and walked up the short driveway of a light-blue house.
Walter led the way to the side of the structure, through a wooden gate that connected to a concrete wall separating the property from the house next door. The backyard had a pool with decayed leaves littering the bottom, and no outdoor furniture to be seen. The brothers removed their guns and screwed the suppressors on.
The sliding glass door leading into the house hadn’t been locked, and they quietly entered the premises. They stood in an open kitchen with an attached dining area. The counters and a small glass-top table were littered with newspapers, old pizza boxes, and Chinese takeout containers. Empty beer cans were scattered across the carpeted floor in the living room. More empty takeout containers sat on the coffee table, along with a tall glass bong.
Walter used his gun to point to the hallway, where the bedrooms were. There were four doors; all of them were shut except for one—a bathroom. Two of the bedroom doors were opposite each other. At the end of the hall was the third one.
Alonzo choose the door on the left, leaving Walter to enter the one on the right. In Alonzo’s room, there was a single mattress on the floor. A man with a scruffy beard lay on it, snoring softly under a thin sheet. Alonzo bent down for a better look and compared the man’s face to a photo on his cell phone. The man in the bed didn’t match the man in the photo. He left the bedroom.
Walter exited his bedroom and shook his head. They both looked at the room at the end of the hall.
Inside the master bedroom was a large bed in the center with the headboard flush against the wall. There was a large dresser made of the same dark wood as the bed frame. It had a large vanity mirror attached to it, but there were no bottles of perfume or cosmetics one would expect to find on such a dresser top.
Walter walked over to one side of the bed, where a large man slept on his side with his potbelly spilling over onto the fitted sheet. His mouth hung slightly open, and he breathed hard. His head was completely shaven—a spider tattoo covered most of it.
Alonzo stood on the other side of the bed, where a blond female slept, her mascara smeared below her eyes. She had frosted locks and large fake breasts. Her pink nipples stood erect. They were long, almost an inch.
Both individuals were partially covered by a chocolate-brown flat sheet. The pillowcases didn’t match; they were off-white. At the foot of the bed, scrunched up, was a comforter that did match the sheets.
Walter removed his phone and compared the face of the man with the photo on the screen. He looked at Alonzo and nodded. He aimed his handgun at the head of the man. Alonzo aimed his at the female.
Walter fired once, and the man’s head jerked from the impact, the pillowcase soiled by the red spray. Alonzo didn’t pull his trigger. He continued to watch the woman. She hadn’t stirred. He holstered his gun, and the two of them exited the house the same way they entered.
From Reno, the drive to San Francisco International Airport would take roughly four hours, maybe a bit longer. Along the way, the brothers stopped in Sacramento for a quick bite at a taco stand. Walter ordered four carnitas tacos, and Alonzo ordered four fish tacos. They both chose horchata for a drink.
While eating, Walter’s cell phone rang. He pressed the phone against his ear but said nothing. Alonzo paid no attention and continued to munch on his taco. About a minute later, Walter disconnected the call and pocketed the phone.
“Our plan has changed,” he said. “We have another job.”
He picked up his taco and continued eating.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
When I arrived at the office the next morning, Kang was already at his desk eating a salted bagel sandwich with egg, ham, and cheese flowing out from the sides.
“That looks good,” I said.
He mumbled something and then pointed to a bag sitting on my desk.
I smiled at him. “You always think of me. Thank you.”
Even though I had eaten a few silver dollars that morning with the kids, I’d never been one to turn down food, even if I was full. It was a knee-jerk reaction that I’d always had. I didn’t know why. I had never wanted for food when growing up. My parents provided more than enough, and I ate more than my share. Maybe that was it. Maybe I’d had too much food while growing up.
I dropped my purse at my desk and headed to the breakroom to fix a cup of tea. When I returned, Hansen and Pratt were talking to Kang.
“Good morning, Agent Kane,” Hansen said. “We wanted to let you two know how the questioning went last night.”
“Anything useful?” I asked as I sat.
“Nothing revealing, mostly confirming what we already knew.”
“Any of those girls see or hear anything about the person who dropped Xiaolian off at the ship?” I removed the bagel sandwich from the paper bag. “You guys hungry?” I held out the sandwich.
They shook their heads simultaneously.
“They said Xiaolian was already inside the container asleep in a bed when they arrived,” Hansen said. “They didn’t know her, so no one really paid any attention to her. I did ask them if they thought it was strange that a girl so young took the trip with them. I got a bunch of shrugs as answers.”
“How is it they can spend all that time cooped up in that container and not learn anything about each other?” Kang asked.
“A few of the girls knew each other, so they just hung out together. The rest of the girls kept to themselves. Most had already dabbled briefly in the escort business. They’re not as young as they look. They range in age from sixteen to eighteen. We contacted CPS. They want to conduct their own interview with each girl before turning them over to immigration for deportation.”
“Did they seem broken up that their money-making scheme was cut short?” Kang asked.
Hansen shook his head as he looked at Pratt, who also shook his head. “Nope. They’re too scared, probably thinking their next trip would be to a prison cell,” Hansen said.
“Where are we on the two men who provided supplies in Honolulu?” I asked before taking a bite of my sandwich.
“They’ve been detained. Same deal as Medina and Watts. They were offered money to do that one thing. They were told nothing else, and they never got a good look at the person who made the arrangements. Someone from Chow’s crew probably flew to Honolulu to recruit those men.”
Pratt spoke up. “One last thing, the cyber crime unit is combing the gang’s laptops and cell phones. Possible we might catch a break with something useful.”
“Did Chow’s lawyer show up yet?”
“Showed up last night. He’s representing all four of them. I did overhear him tell Chow he would expedite his bail hearing so that it took place today.”
“That’s quick,” I said between chews.
“Is something wrong?” Hansen asked.
“No, but now that Chow’s talked to his lawyer, I want to see if he is willing to loosen his mouth and tell us what he knows about the customer who had Xiaolian shipped.”
“I’ll let the lawyer know we want to question Chow again.”
After our meeting with Hansen and Pratt, I continued working on my report for Reilly, the first step in winding down the investigation. I was already convinced by then that we wouldn’t learn who sent Xiaolian to the US. But I was ninety percent sure it was Chow who’d dropped her off at our offices—that is, if Xiaolian’s memory was correct about seeing his tattoo before getting inside the suitcase. There was a chance that Chow had handed her off to someone else, but my gut wasn’t buy
ing it.
Later, Hansen let me know that Chow’s lawyer agreed to meet at the federal courthouse next door after the bail hearing, which was set for one thirty that afternoon.
A little before noon, Kang bugged me to have lunch with him. It was food-truck day at the Civic Center. Between eight to ten trucks would show, offering everything from Korean tacos to smoked ribs to steak sandwiches to curry empanadas.
“Five minutes and I’ll be done,” I said.
Kang paced the area near our desks, jingling the change in the front pocket of his pants—his passive way of telling me to hurry up.
“Okay, I just hit send. We’re good to go.”
“Come on. We gotta hurry before the lines get long.”
On the way to the elevator, my cell phone rang. It was Po Po.
“Hi. Is everything okay?”
“Xiaolian disappear!”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Kang and I wasted no time jumping into my car and racing back to the house. I had asked Po Po two questions before disconnecting the call. Are you safe? Her answer was yes. Are the doors locked? They weren’t. I told her to lock herself in and that I was on my way.
With the siren blaring from my Charger, we were making record time. Still I couldn’t help but think Po Po was in some immediate danger. It was obvious to me that someone who was connected to Chow had come after Xiaolian. What I couldn’t know was whether or not that was all they wanted. Kang called his old precinct in Chinatown and had them send a unit over to my address.
“Done. A patrol car will be there in the next few minutes.”
“Will you call her?” I asked Kang as I drove.
He called Po Po, and she picked up. She said everything was fine and not to worry about her.
A patrol car was already at the house when we arrived, and it appeared the situation was under control. Still, I made a beeline inside.
“Po Po!” I called out as I burst through the front door.
She stepped out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
“Thank God you’re okay,” I said, giving her a hug.
“I tell you before I okay. But I don’t know where Xiaolian go.”
“Tell me everything, from the beginning.”
Kang entered the house just then.
“I prepare lunch for Xiaolian. When I go to call her, she not there.”
“Not where? In her room?”
“She in the backyard.”
“What was she doing?”
Po Po shrugged. “Fresh air. She go out there many times.”
“Oh. Okay, so you went into the backyard and she wasn’t there. How long was she alone?”
Po Po thought for a moment. “Maybe she got out about thirty minutes before.”
I studied the lock on the door leading to the screened-in porch, careful not to touch it. It seemed to be working and undamaged. Kang and I looked around the porch but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Don’t touch the knob,” I said. “I want to dust for prints.”
We exited the house through the front door and walked over to the side, where a path led to the rear of the house. Grass had a hard time growing there because of the lack of direct sunlight, so the ground was soft. We treaded cautiously.
“There,” I said, pointing at the ground.
“I see it,” Kang said.
There was an imprint of a shoe, and it was too big to be Xiaolian’s—evidence I didn’t want squandered. I put a call in to the lab and had them send a team out to the house.
When forensics arrived, they dusted the entire porch for prints. They also found another shoe impression that matched the one I’d found. They snapped pictures and then made casts of the shoe prints.
One of the techs mentioned to me that the tread looked like it belonged to an athletic shoe, cross-trainers or running shoes. There was a fairly good chance they could identify the brand.
With all that was happening at the house, I’d completely forgotten about my meeting with Chow and his lawyer until he rang me on my cell. I apologized and told him I would call him back later to reschedule. He also mentioned that Chow had made bail, but he assured me he wasn’t a flight risk.
They all say that.
It was nearly three p.m. when the tech team began wrapping up. Lucy was due out of school. I told Po Po I would pick her up. After having Xiaolian snatched right out from under us, I had an overwhelming need to hug my daughter.
“Go on. I’ll wait here until you get back,” Kang said.
The walk wasn’t far. Lucy was already waiting at our designated spot, and talking to one of her friends.
“Lucy,” I called out.
She turned with a surprised look on her face. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m picking you up. Got a problem with that?” I leaned in and gave her a kiss on her head.
“No, it’s okay. I thought Po Po was coming.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“This is Sasha.”
“Hello,” she said with a quick glance my way.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lucy told her before walking with me. “Don’t you have to work today?” she asked as she aligned her steps so they matched mine.
“I do. I am. There’s something I have to tell you. Xiaolian went missing today.”
“She left?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Someone who knows her might have taken her.”
“Oh, I hope she’s okay.”
“Me too.”
We walked hand in hand quietly for a bit. I guessed Lucy was thinking about Xiaolian. I knew I was.
“Mommy?”
“Yes.”
“I have something I need to discuss with you.”
“It sounds important.”
“It is. As you know, my birthday is coming up.”
Birthday? That’s right. Jeez, how could that have slipped my mind? “I know that.”
“I know you know. But listen to me. I’ve been thinking a lot about what gift you can give me.”
“You have?” I asked, barely containing a chuckle.
“Yes. It’s an important day in my life.”
“And what has all of this serious thinking resulted in?”
“I want to get my ears pierced. Stop! Before you answer, I want you to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I don’t want your answer now. I want you to sleep on it. I want you to really think hard. Do you understand me?”
I could see she was dead serious, even though she stared at the ground as we walked. I dared not laugh and did my best to filter the words that next came out of my mouth.
“I understand. I’ll give it my fairest consideration.”
“Thank you, Mommy.”
“So what brought this on?”
“It’s something me and my friends have agreed to do. Everyone is supposed to go home and ask. Since my birthday is coming, I think it would make the most perfect of all gifts ever.”
The remainder of the walk home, we let the subject of ear-piercing lay where we left it and talked about her day in school. She never brought up Xiaolian, and I had to wonder if it was because I was the only person who seemed to be obsessed with her or if it was because Lucy wasn’t concerned. I leaned toward the former.
Xiaolian wasn’t family. She was a part of an investigation I had invited into our home. Sure, she was nice and just a little girl. Her situation wasn’t ideal. I’d like to think most people would have felt badly for her and taken her in for a few days.
But that wasn’t the only reason I’d taken her in.
There were other reasons, arguably selfish in a way. I had wanted help with my investigation. I could benefit from Xiaolian staying with me. Now granted, I’d come across children who had been abandoned, beaten, and sexually abused by someone in the past. This wasn’t my first rodeo. And sure, I felt bad. Who wouldn’t? But I’d never felt a strong desire to take them into my home, even if I thought it could help with an investigation. I would
just visit them at the shelter or wherever they were being housed if I needed to question them.
So why Xiaolian? What made her so special? Was the answer as simple as she looked like me? Perhaps. Or was it something bigger? Could it be that the whole suitcase situation had never felt right to me? Why stuff a girl into a piece of luggage and deliver her straight to the offices of the FBI if not to have her found and investigated?
I was deep in thought when Lucy tugged on my arm, directing me into our driveway.
“We’re home,” she sang.
Hearing Lucy say those two words, I wondered if Xiaolian had finally found her way home.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The forensics unit had already packed up and left before Lucy and I arrived. Po Po was sweeping the kitchen floor; she had prepared bite-sized sandwiches for Lucy’s afterschool snack.
“Where’s Kyle?” I asked her
“He working in the backyard.”
I assumed what Po Po really meant to say was that he was relaxing on the back porch, but I was wrong. He was actually watering the hedges that surrounded my property.
“Are you my new grounds crew?” I called out from the porch.
Kang smiled at me and continued watering.
I walked over to him. “I didn’t think my yard lacked in care, but I’m liking this side of you. When will you be back to mow?”
He smiled. “It seemed a little dry.” He switched off the hose. “Nothing more to report aside from the shoe print. They recovered a few prints from the door. They also printed Po Po to rule her out.”
“You know what Xiaolian’s disappearance means?”
“That it could be a kidnapping, which will merit an investigation.”
“Yup, the only problem is it doesn’t look like she was taken by force.”
“You don’t know that,” he said. “She was outside. She could have easily been overpowered, maybe even knocked out and quickly put into a vehicle out front.”
Suitcase Girl (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - SG Trilogy Book 1) Page 14
