“I’m afraid that’s a decision that isn’t entirely up to me.”
Her eyes fell to the side in disappointment.
“But I will come and visit you as often as I can.”
She looked back up at me. “Do you promise?”
“I do. And you should know that I always keep my promises, but I want you to promise me one thing as well.”
“What’s that?”
“That you will behave yourself while you’re here. No more challenging people to boxing matches, okay?”
She giggled. “Okay, deal.”
I stood up and grabbed hold of her hand. “I think I will have some water.”
She laughed out loud. “I knew you were pretending not to be thirsty earlier.”
“You got me.”
Over at the table, I unscrewed a bottle for Xiaolian and then did the same for myself.
“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked before taking a sip.
I looked her straight in the eyes. “I don’t know, but I’m working on finding out. Trust me.”
The man sat in the front seat of the black sedan as he peered through an SLR camera with a telescopic lens. The shutter let out a percussion of clicks as he snapped pictures of Abby and Kang exiting the government facility in their vehicle and then driving away. Once they were out of view, he lowered the camera and placed a call on his cell phone.
“They’ve just left. Still no sign of the girl. Yes, I agree. Start the protocol.”
Chapter Five
Once we were safely in our vehicle and out of range of prying ears and eyes, I asked Kang what he thought.
“It didn’t play out exactly as I had imagined it would,” he said as he put the vehicle in reverse and backed out of the parking stall.
“You talking about the boxing bit or the attitude change?”
“The attitude.”
“It caught me off guard as well.”
“You never saw this side of her while she lived with you? Not even a tiny bit?”
“Not in the least. I’m just as dumbfounded as you. Maybe the trauma was worse than we thought.”
“Maybe. What did you two discuss after you knocked her to her knees? The mic didn’t pick it up.”
“She apologized and said the place made her that way. I’m guessing what she really meant is that it made her aggressive, which I understand. I hated being there. Did Yates say anything?”
“He seemed oblivious to her attitude, as if it were normal. I will say one thing: That new personality of hers… I see some of you in there.”
“What? Shut up.” I batted his comment away.
“I’m not kidding.”
“Okay.” I folded my arms across my chest. “How so?”
Kang waited to answer, as he had to lower his window and return the car pass to the guard at the entrance. Once we cleared the entrance gate, he spoke. “The way she talks. It just reminds me of you.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“You know,” he glanced at me, “your mouth. Your attitude. I know this isn’t helping, but I can’t quite find the right words to convey what I’m thinking right now.”
“You’re saying I’m cocky?”
A big smile formed on Kang’s face. “You saying you’re not?”
“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Abby. It’s her mannerisms; they resemble yours. She’s definitely an alpha like you. Plus the testing, her deductive reasoning. Yates said she’s witty and highly observant.”
Kang was right. I had also seen the similarity, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Knowing someone looked exactly like me was plenty enough. Having them think and act the same… well, it was a little creepy.
“She’s scared,” I said.
“I would be too if I were in her shoes. Did you have a chance to ask the obvious question?”
“You mean whether she can explain why we look exactly alike? No, I didn’t. The boxing thing threw me. I think I can dive deeper during our next meeting. We all know the science behind how she’s able to look and act like me. What we’re missing is the motive. Why would someone create her with my DNA?”
“I actually pressed Yates on that subject. He said he never asked her why she thought she looked like you.”
“When she stayed at the house, she mentioned a doctor in her dreams.”
“I’m guessing she’s talking about Dr. Jian Lee, the guy who took her from your home and then ended up dead at the motel, killed by Walter Chan.” Kang briefly looked my way.
“Probably, but I’m wondering if there’s more than one. Most likely there’s a team of doctors behind this medical miracle.” My last words were thick with sarcasm.
“Makes sense. I imagine there’s a lot Xiaolian knows that she’s not telling us.”
“And I bet she’s willing to give up that information only if she sees a benefit for herself. I mean, that’s what I would do. And given that she’s me...”
“She’s a smart kid. Hey, you hungry? There’s this deli I know of near here with mile-high sandwiches. And they’re fantastic.”
Kang wasn’t kidding about the deli. The place made their own corned beef and pastrami, and it was the real deal. I went for pastrami and corned beef on rye while Kang kept it pure and ordered only pastrami.
We sat at one of the four small tables and ate as we watched the local newscast on a flat-screen television hanging on the wall. The news channel was airing cell-phone footage captured earlier that morning of a naked man handcuffed and being escorted to a police vehicle. He shouted a bunch of stuff that I wasn’t really paying attention to, as I was trying to unhinge my jaw, like a python, so I could eat my sandwich.
“San Francisco crazies. They’re a dime a dozen,” Kang said as he watched the telecast. “Wait a minute… I’ve heard of this guy. He’s a tech genius from Silicon Valley.”
“Really?” I mumbled.
“Yeah, he’s a known party boy. The work-hard, play-hard type. Supposedly made millions from selling his first company.”
The cell-phone footage played on a loop while the newscaster talked. Finally the newscaster stopped talking for a moment, and I could hear the cuffed man say something like, “They did this to me. I’m not responsible for my actions.”
“Typical rich. They think they can get away with any type of behavior,” Kang said. “And he probably will. His hotshot lawyer will have him home by dinner, and his PR people will spin this so that it’s over in a day or so.”
We both shook our heads and returned to the really important task at hand. Kang took a massive bite of his sandwich that caused both of his cheeks to pop out like a chipmunk. I squirted more mustard inside my sandwich and then did the same.
Chapter Six
Connie Shi stood quietly in the frozen-food section of the grocery store, her gaze trained on the selection of frozen waffles. She wore jeans and a floral blouse and had her black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Eyeliner and nude lipstick completed her look.
Blueberry… strawberry… original?
She mulled her frozen waffle options for a bit longer before pulling open the door to the freezer case and grabbing a box of each flavor. One by one she gently tossed them into her shopping cart. She stopped at an open freezer case housing a selection of frozen pizzas on sale. She grabbed two pepperoni and two sausage pizzas and added them to her cart.
“Connie, is that you?” a voice shrilled out.
She spun around to find a woman dressed in yoga attire and sporting bleached-blond hair approaching her.
“I knew it was you,” the woman said, pushing her cart alongside Connie’s and looking her up and down. “Recognized that fab figure of yours.”
“I haven’t been to the gym in weeks. I barely fit these jeans,” Connie replied with a dismissive gesture. She glanced into the woman’s cart and saw a dozen single-serving yogurts. “And what have you been up to?”
“I signed up for these yoga clas
ses at a small studio in Pacific Heights. It’s right on Fillmore, near Pine. It opened just two weeks ago. You should come. The ladies there are super nice, and the woman who teaches the classes… she’s a doll. Totally helpful and not pushy at all.”
Connie nodded, but her eyes were drawn to the woman’s chest. “Is that new?” she asked.
“Oh, this?” the woman said, placing her hand on the diamond pendant sitting just above her revealing cleavage. “Just a little something to treat myself. I had a rough two weeks. I swear—my kids are signed up for so many after-school activities, I can barely deal with it all.”
“Looks like you spared no expense.”
“It’s two carats in a platinum setting. I almost did three, but I do have some self-control,” she said with a laugh.
“What did your husband say?”
She waved her hand and rolled her eyes. “Roger’s so easy. The second he starts to protest, I start blowing him. All is forgotten. Listen, I’ve got to meet the contractor at the house—we’re having the kitchen cabinets redone. Call me about yoga. I promise you’ll love it.”
She spun her cart around and disappeared into the cereal aisle.
Connie removed her phone from her back pocket and checked the grocery list she had made. Just need a bag of rice, and that should do it. With her cart piled nearly to the brim with food, she gave it a hard push and headed toward the grain aisle.
After paying for her groceries, the bag boy offered to escort her to her vehicle, a silver Range Rover. He loaded the bags into the back, and she tipped him with a crisp five-dollar bill.
Connie drove out of the parking lot of the grocery store and west on North Point Street. She lived five minutes away, on Alhambra Street. While she was waiting to make a left onto Fillmore Street, her phone chimed, indicating a text message.
She read the text and then returned her phone to her purse. She made her left onto Fillmore but instead of turning right on Alhambra, she continued straight on Fillmore all the way until she reached California. She headed east until she reached Grace Cathedral on Nob Hill. She found parking on the street and then exited her vehicle, leaving her groceries inside.
Connie walked over to Huntington Park, a small park directly in front of the cathedral. She searched for a bench and took a seat. The park wasn’t particularly crowded—it was a weekday. There were a few people walking their dogs and a few tourists who had just visited the church. Other than that, Connie had the place to herself.
About ten minutes later, an elderly man dressed in chinos and a checkered button-down approached and sat next to her on the bench with a poodle at the end of the leash he held. She smiled at the man. The dog circled once before lying on the grass, its tongue hanging from the side of its mouth.
The man wore oversized sunglasses and a light-gray beanie. A toothpick poked out from between his lips. He chewed on the sliver of wood, occasionally picking at his teeth while looking at a newspaper.
Connie stared ahead, ignoring his hygiene theatrics. After about fifteen minutes or so, the man stood up and left, with his dog trailing behind him.
Connie waited a few minutes and then glanced over to where he had been sitting; she saw that he had left his newspaper behind. Without hesitation, she picked it up and promptly walked back to her vehicle.
Once inside and sitting in the driver’s seat, she peeked between the pages and spotted a manila envelope; she tucked the paper into her purse and turned the key in the ignition. The pleasant smile she’d had on her face all day disappeared. Her jawline tensed, and her eyes narrowed. She shifted into gear and stepped on the gas pedal. The wheels of the vehicle chirped as the car lurched out of its space, nearly clipping the rear bumper of the sedan parked in front of it.
Connie hooked the wheel to the left, and the SUV gripped the asphalt and executed a U-turn. The force sent most of the grocery bags in the back onto their sides. A number of items tumbled out, including a tub of ice cream. It rolled to the rear of the vehicle and settled against the tailgate. Melted ice cream leaked out and pooled onto the carpeting as Connie sped down the street.
Chapter Seven
We reached the Phillip Burton Federal Building around three in the afternoon—northbound traffic on the 101 Highway had been worse than usual. I had thought of heading straight home, but I figured Reilly deserved an update on our meeting with Xiaolian that day instead of the following morning. There wasn’t much to report, as Yates had limited my time with her.
Kang had to visit the restroom, so I took a seat at my desk and waited. From where I sat, I could see Agent Hansen’s empty desk; it was still assigned to him, even though he had yet to recover from the shooting incident with Alonzo Chan. He was on medical leave and had not been cleared by the psychiatrist treating him to return to duty. Whether he would ever be cleared was still up in the air. Reilly had made it clear that, until Hansen told him he was done, he would hold that desk for him. We all hoped he’d come back.
Kang had mentioned that he’d visited with Hansen while he recuperated. Hansen’s parents were retirees and had flown out from Maryland to look after him. He was an only child, and his closest friend in the Bay Area had been his partner, Agent Pratt, who was killed by Alonzo. It made me happy to hear he had family with him and that his recovery was going well. Kang said he would regain full use of his arm with rehab. He also said they discussed everything but the job, and he never got a read either way on what Hansen’s thoughts were about returning to the Bureau if he were cleared.
I couldn’t call or visit while on lockdown at the facility, but now that I was out, it was something I wanted to do.
“Hey, you ready?” Kang asked, shaking me out of my thoughts.
We made the walk down the corridor to Reilly’s office. He was reading a report and making notes. His office was a familiar sight: a desk piled with folders and papers. His money-tree plant was still alive. It was comforting to me.
“Come in, guys. Have a seat.”
We sat.
“How’s Xiaolian? Did the fellas down there crack the mystery surrounding her?”
“They did a lot of testing. She’s intelligent. She’s athletic—someone trained her to box.”
“Really?” Reilly sat up and placed the file on his desk. “What’s their assessment?”
“I’m not sure they have one yet. They’re busy discovering all the things she’s capable of. Someone obviously put a lot of effort into her. Why? Well that’s still to be determined.”
“Kang, what’s your take?”
“I’d have to agree with Abby. How she was educated, where she received her training, and why are still unknowns, though we did see another side of her personality-wise.”
Reilly raised his eyebrows.
“The Xiaolian we saw today was aggressive and cocky,” I said. “She wanted to spar with me.”
“Are you serious?”
“I am. Dr. Yates had an early thought. He thinks whoever created her had knowledge of my past and set about developing specific traits that would come naturally to her. Apparently she’s a wiz at solving puzzles and riddles.”
“Yates called her ‘a little Sherlock Holmes,’” Kang added.
“Maybe I should recruit her when she’s of age,” Reilly said as he shifted in his chair. “Do you think you can rekindle your relationship with her?”
“I think the personality change we saw today was a defensive measure resulting from the poking and prodding and questioning that she’s had to undergo. If given time, I’m sure I can penetrate her wall.”
Reilly nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Because it seems whatever took place today was promising enough for them to want you guys to continue engaging with her. Tomorrow morning, you’re both to report to Camp Parks. You’ll receive a briefing on your roles from here on out.”
“Camp Parks?” Kang said. “Isn’t that a military installation?”
“It’s a training center for the US Army Reserve and other things.”
“Wh
y do we need to meet on a military base?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I think this is just where the meet-and-greet is scheduled. These orders came down from up top. I’m just here to pass them on. The meeting is at ten o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”
“Wait. Who are we meeting with?” I pressed.
“I don’t know exactly,” Reilly said with a shrug. “I’ve been informed that the guards at the security gate are expecting both of you and will take it from there.”
I’d never left Reilly’s office more confused than I was that day. He seemed indifferent regarding the meet at Camp Parks. Was he under strict orders not to say anything? He had to know more than he was letting on—after all, he was the Special Agent in Charge of the San Francisco FBI office. Surely, his ranking offered him the privilege of knowing what was going on.
Or not.
Chapter Eight
It was nearly seven in the evening when the silver Mercedes sedan pulled into the driveway of the two-story Queen Anne Victorian. The lights were on inside, and the sounds of children laughing could be heard. Albert Shi exited his vehicle with a leather shoulder bag in one hand and walked to the front door.
Inside he found his two boys, Colin and Merrick, ages twelve and ten, horsing around in the living room. Colin had his younger brother pinned on his back. He had hooked an arm under Merrick’s legs and pulled them up so that his thighs were pressed against his chest.
“Okay, I give. I give. You win,” Merrick shouted in between forceful breaths.
“And what else?”
“You’re the king of all kings, and I bow to you for all eternity.”
“And what else?”
“I pale in comparison to your awesomeness.”
Colin was about to ask for more praise when he noticed his dad standing in the doorway. “Hey, Dad, did you just get home?” He released Merrick.
“I did. Now that you guys have established who is king of all kings and who is more awesome, I want you both to wash up for dinner.”
The Curator: SG Trilogy Book 2 (Abby Kane FBI Thriller 8) Page 3
