Rising Tide (Coastal Fury Book 5)

by Matt Lincoln

  “Thank you again,” Pete Patrone said in a trembling voice when he arrived. “Mr. Liu has been like a father to me since I began working with him.”

  Alice got up and hugged Patrone. “It’s not looking good,” she told him. “The bodyguards died, so these agents and I are the only ones here to protect Yéyé if someone came after him.”

  I’d thought I detected a slight New York accent, but with Patrone’s appearance, Alice’s accent thickened. I couldn’t help wondering about her relationship with the Bamboo Dragon tong. Although tongs had started out as Chinese immigrant community support groups in the early 1800s, over two centuries, tongs grew to incorporate organized crime in several American and international cities.

  Patrone cast a guilty glance at us but shrugged as if we weren’t potential enemies.

  “I’m so sorry,” Patrone told Alice. His brows knitted, and he ran a hand through thin, light-brown hair. “I’m here for your family.” He scoffed. “I mean, I’m here for you and Mr. Liu.”

  Alice nodded. Her deep brown eyes met mine, and I sensed a well of both pain and determination. She narrowed those eyes.

  “My parents are self-involved, Agent Marston.” She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat as her foot began tapping. “Yéyé lives in Hong Kong. He visits the States twice a year, but this is the first time he visited Miami in twelve years, back when I was in college here. My parents wouldn’t have come if Mr. Zhu hadn’t offered free rooms. They’ve always sucked up to Yéyé.”

  “John Liu is an important man,” I ventured.

  Patrone leaned forward. “Is that an opening to question us, Agent Marston?”

  I laughed and spread my hands to indicate my nearly dry but rumpled slacks and shirt, not to mention my bare feet in fuzzy, blue slippers. I noticed a rip in a shoulder seam and picked at it.

  “Dressed like this?” I shook my head. “I was there, Mr. Patrone. As I recall, you both were upstairs when it happened, right?”

  Diane put her hand on my arm, and I looked at her. She met me with a guarded expression.

  “In the interest of full disclosure, Agent Marston will want to speak with you in an official capacity when things have settled a bit,” she informed them. “We really are here to support you, but if you say anything that stands out, it won’t be like we can walk away and forget about it.”

  “I understand,” Alice conceded. “For the record, then, I have zero involvement in criminal activity, nor am I aware of any specifics that could be evidence in any case.”

  Patrone’s unreadable expression suggested he couldn’t say the same. As Diane let on, it wasn’t the time to go into that side of things.

  “Miss Liu, your grandfather was a brave man,” I told her.

  “‘Is a brave man,’” she said with an exasperated sigh.

  “I sit corrected,” I admitted. “He risked his life to try to save David Zhu.”

  She sat up a little straighter. “Yeah?”

  “The suite hadn’t collapsed yet when I got down there.” As I spoke, Diane leaned a little closer as well. “From what I could tell, David took a severe injury in the implosion. Your grandfather pulled him deeper into the suite and then shut the door against all that rushing water. That took a lot of strength. When my partner and I got down there, he wouldn’t leave until he saw that Zhu was being helped.”

  A small smile touched the corner of her mouth. “Yéyé has always aspired to be an honorable man in his way. Thank you for telling me this.”

  Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a woman in scrubs. I’d met Dr. Hill several times, and I respected the passion and advocacy she demonstrated for her patients. She sat in the chairs across from Alice and Patrone. Alice folded her hands and leaned forward.

  “Your grandfather suffered a massive heart attack,” Dr. Adams told Alice. “We tried for half an hour to bring him back, but there was nothing we more we could do.”

  Alice looked at the floor and nodded. “I understand. Thank you.”

  Dr. Hill stood but then turned toward me. “Agent Marston, I hear you were the one who pulled Mr. Liu out of the rubble.”

  “I did.” I stood to meet her gaze. “He was alert and aware before the water covered our heads. I thought he seemed fine until just before we hit the surface.”

  “You and the Coast Guard did a remarkable job,” Dr. Hill told me. She held out her hand. “That he made it this far is proof of that.”

  I shook her hand but didn’t feel any better.

  “I’m going to stay until I can say goodbye to him,” Alice announced. She stood, and Patrone joined her. “Pete, you can go back to the hotel. I’ll get a ride to pick my car up from the lot.”

  His eyes widened. “I thought you knew.” His eyes darted between Alice, Diane, and me. “They’re not letting anyone within a block of the hotel. Whatever happened caused the foundation to weaken, and they have to inspect to make sure it doesn’t, like, fall over.”

  “The dust cloud,” Alice said. She pointed at Patrone. “And the way the floor shook. I thought something felt off afterward, but…” She blinked and took a deep breath. “I forgot about it.”

  “That’s understandable,” I offered. “You were worried.”

  “Of course. I thought my parents were down there as well. I don’t get along with them, but I don’t want anything to happen.” She took a shuddering sigh and hugged herself. “Do they think the building will fall?”

  “I don’t know,” Patrone answered. “All I do know is that the property is off-limits. Even the parking lot.” He had a wry smile for me. “Your plane floated out of the way, at least.”

  “Can we get you a ride to your home?” I offered to Alice. “When you’re ready, of course.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll get a rideshare, but thank you.” She met my eyes again, and I felt as if she could see deep into my heart. “I’ll be ready to speak with you tomorrow. It… it’ll be good to get away from the business of my grandfather’s funeral.”

  Out of habit, I pulled my wallet from my pocket to give her a business card. The scent of saltwater hit me as I opened the sopping mess. My cards were readable but completely soaked. Diane whisked out one of her cards, but Alice held her hand out for mine.

  “This is fine,” she said as she took my sad offering by one hand. She waved it a little, but it was going to take more than that to get it dry. “Just so you know, when you meet my parents or other Chinese businesspeople, offer your card with both hands. There’s more to it than that, but from an American, it’ll impress them.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I promised. “Thank you.”

  On our way out, Diane and I ran into Holm. He brought, as promised, my shoes and phone. He saw our faces and blew out a breath.

  “This is going to turn into a shit show,” he said with a frown. “The hotel owner, Shawn Zhu, has dealings with a Hong Kong triad. If anyone in Liu’s tong thinks the triad is responsible, it could be a syndicate war.”

  “Tread carefully,” Diane warned us. “Ethan, you’re point on this one. We need our best to avoid that war.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Later that day, Holm and I took a drive up to North Miami.

  On the outside, Shawn Zhu’s mid-rise office building was mundane appearance drew no more attention than its neighbors. The inside, however, boasted of red Verona marble floors and plush trim in rich reds, golds, and black lacquers. Framed illustrations of hotels, condominium high rises, and at least one resort was arranged along the walls in a pleasant counterbalance to the more traditional decor.

  Two dark-haired men in dark suits played chess at a short table between the facing shiny-black chairs they occupied. They paused in their game, and one spoke into a walkie-talkie.

  Moments later, a petite woman in a gray pinstripe suit and golden, wire-rimmed glasses entered the lobby. “Agents Marston and Holm?”

  I stepped forward with a nod. “I’m Special Agent Marston.” I gestured behind me. “That’s my
partner, Special Agent Holm.”

  She bowed at the shoulders. “I am his secretary, Louise Chen. Mr. Zhu is waiting.” She looked over the top of her glasses. “He rearranged his schedule to see you today.”

  “That’s very considerate of him,” I commented with a glance back to Holm. “We appreciate his time.”

  “Yes,” Holm said in an agreeable tone. “Nice to meet you.”

  Louise gave a slight scoff and turned on her stiletto heel. “Follow me,” she instructed over her shoulder.

  She took us to the seventh floor. Outside the elevator was another suited man with a walkie. This guy sat at a desk way too small for his frame but appeared to be making good use of the lack of space with a game on his phone, which he set face down as soon as we appeared.

  Unlike the lobby, the hall on this floor was spartan, with a plain carpet, walls, and ceiling tiles in shades of white and gray. The only thing that hinted at personality was the scent of jasmine that lingered in the air. We went halfway down the hall and stopped before an unadorned door with the kind of wood veneer that builders everywhere slapped into their business offices.

  “You will wait here for Mr. Zhu,” our host informed us as she opened the door.

  Holm and I entered a conference room that was as exciting to look at as the hall. The fabric on the gray seats looked like they could have been made from the same fibers as the carpet, and there were no windows or other points of interest. A speaker could hold their audience’s attention through a sheer lack of anything to steal someone’s attention.

  “I haven’t even met this guy yet, and I get a weird vibe.” Holm circled the table until he found a seat at the end furthest from the door. “Downstairs was just for show.”

  “I agree.”

  I crossed my arms and thought about interests a real estate investor might have in Miami. Aside from the obvious tourism, there were other areas of growth. The greatest opportunity in the near future was the creation of a planned Chinatown in North Miami. A number of contracts were available for real estate investors, and Zhu was likely in the thick of the running.

  The door opened, and a Chinese man of average build and height entered from the hallway. His strong jaw was offset by graying hair and deep grooves at the corners of his eyes and where others might have laugh lines. Tiny wrinkles around his lips suggested a lifelong habit of smoking.

  “Welcome to my building,” he intoned. “I am Shawn Zhu. You are Special Agents Holm and Marston, yes?”

  Holm stood, and I uncrossed my arms.

  “I’m Ethan Marston,” I told him. Remembering what Alice told me, I pulled out a business card and offered it to Zhu with both hands. He chuckled and then turned the card around so that the writing faced him.

  “I appreciate your attempt at etiquette.” He held out both hands to receive the card, and I obliged. “As I reside in the States half the year, I am accustomed to American habits.” He shook my hand and then gestured to Holm.

  “Robbie Holm,” my partner said when they shook hands.

  Zhu chose the seat that Holm had vacated, the one furthest from the door. Holm raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  “I understand that you two helped at the accident scene this morning,” Zhu opened. “You have my family’s thanks for your attempt to save young David and my thanks for your heroics with my friend, John.”

  “How long did you know Mr. Liu?” I asked.

  “Decades.” Zhu tilted his head a little. “Many decades. You might say we were rivals for a while, but we put that behind us years ago.”

  “How many years?” I leaned forward.

  “More than you need to worry about,” Zhu answered with a smile. “We reconciled our differences in the nineteen-eighties.”

  “You called him a friend.” I smiled at Holm. “I call this guy a friend, but he’s also my work partner. What was your relationship with Mr. Liu?”

  Zhu gave a slight nod. “You might say we were on each other’s holiday card lists. Our business interests aligned quite often. I would like to see the tradition continue with those who inherit his companies, but I have reservations about his son’s involvement.” His eyes narrowed to dark slits. “Ken Liu is not half the savant his father was.”

  “How so?” Holm asked as he folded his hands on the table.

  “Kenny is spoiled,” Zhu sneered. “My friend John made many intelligent moves during his career, but his parenting skills left much to be desired. That boy of his only cares about his inheritance. He cares nothing about legacy.”

  I glanced at Holm, and he met my eye. Ken’s relationship with his father was already on our radar, thanks to Alice’s comments at the hospital.

  “How widespread is this knowledge of Ken Liu’s priorities?” I wanted to know.

  “That one is known for his excesses.” Zhu pressed his lips together for a moment. “If John hadn’t intervened, Ken would have found himself paying his debts to people one wishes never to encounter.”

  “Loan sharks?” Holm asked.

  “Worse.” Zhu kept his face friendly, but his eyes turned cold. “Without his father’s protection, Ken will find his life more difficult.”

  I straightened. “Is that a threat toward Liu?”

  Zhu quirked a brow. “Not from me. It is common knowledge among certain social circles.”

  I left that one alone, as did Holm. We all knew what we were dancing around. It was time to shift gears.

  “We got to tour the Seascape Tunnel and Suites a few weeks ago.” I leaned back a little, let him think I was comfortable. Holm did the same. “It was impressive. Your hotel had a lot to offer. What do you think went wrong?”

  Zhu shook his head. “We passed every inspection.” He leaned on the table with a weary sigh. “Every single inspection. I hire only the best talent to create experiences hotel and resort guests will never forget.”

  “Do you run into any problems during construction?” I tapped my forefinger on the table. “Delays, mistakes, other issues?”

  “My projects rarely encounter delays,” Zhu informed us. “However, there was an environmentalist who gave us trouble over several months.”

  “We have a lot of environmentalists in Florida,” Holm acknowledged. “They protest a lot of the big projects along the coast.”

  “Indeed, and I always plan for the possibility, especially in coastal areas.” Zhu stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’d hoped to avoid most of the objections with this project.”

  “How so?” I swiveled my chair a little to stay face-to-face as the man paced the room.

  “The Dragon Tide was built to be exceptional.” He brought his right arm up and gestured as he spoke. His left hand remained behind his back. It felt as though he intended to give a seminar. “The Seascape attraction was part of our efforts to support coral reefs. My corporation is beginning a project in which we seed artificial and dying reefs with polyps and other life. Ten percent of the hotel’s proceeds were going to fund these activities.”

  “Why would environmentalists oppose that?” Holm’s forehead wrinkled as he thought. “Anything to help the oceans is good in my book.”

  “One would think.” Zhu moved back toward his end of the table. “It wasn’t the reef program that these people protested. No, it was the hotel itself. Had they taken the time to meet with me, they would have learned of the adaptations built into the structure.”

  “Tell us about that,” I invited. He seemed to enjoy the platform, small though his audience was.

  “We all know sea levels are rising.” He spread his arms as if looking beyond the room. “To continue our business, we must adapt.” He flashed a smile that was brilliant despite his slightly yellowed teeth. “Dragon Tide was named for its ability to weather the tides.”

  He pulled a small remote control from his suit jacket and pointed it at the ceiling. A screen descended from a slot in the panels. With another click, a panel in the middle eased down to reveal a projector. I wondered what else he migh
t have stored in his ceiling. The chucklehead next to me got a kick out of the projector’s appearance.

  “Neat trick,” Holm said with a grin. “I want one.”

  Zhu laughed. “I can make a referral.” He held up the remote. “Let me introduce you to my dream.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The video began with an image of a sunrise over the ocean. It panned to the left and revealed Miami’s familiar cityscape.

  “Miami Dade County is home to almost three million people and a beacon to tourists from all over the globe.” The narrator’s pleasant tone turned ominous as the view of the city shifted to a shot from the side that showed Miami’s boardwalk. “As the climate changes, sea levels will rise, there will be more severe hurricanes, and Miami is at the front lines of this devastation.”

  Storms lashed at beaches, and water rose on city streets on the screen. Dramatic music accompanied the rising tide as it swallowed all that made Miami a vacationer’s mecca. The camera zoomed in on a playground. It was a drizzly day, and a little girl stood in knee-deep water while staring wistfully at swings that brushed at tiny ripples.

  “These changes are inevitable,” the narrator warned, “but Miami’s demise is not.”

  The music turned hopeful, and the drizzle faded into sunshine. Water drained from the playground as the background sank, and the happy little girl ran toward the swings. The camera zoomed out to show the playground as part of an open-air suspension between high rises. A dozen floors lower, water lapped at the bases of the buildings. Windows were blocked for about four floors above the water, and the next three floors featured heavy shutters. Above were balconies large enough for block parties, shopping centers, and entertainment complexes. The mix of residential, business, and tourist areas was represented through several panning views.