Golden Lies (33 page)

Well, maybe not all the Hathaways, maybe not Paige. She seemed nice, friendly. Of course, Paige had also reminded Alyssa that her mother could be in a heap of trouble if the stolen dragon was linked back to her. Maybe Paige had only been looking out for her own interests. Maybe that was the Hathaway gene she had truly inherited, the one that was telling her now to look out for herself and her mother and not to worry about anyone else.

"I love him. I love you," Jasmine said, interrupting her plan of attack. "Alyssa, listen to me -- I don't want you to fight with David or his family. I couldn't bear it. I committed the sin. If you must punish him, you must punish me."

"You've already been punished enough," Alyssa said.

"And so have you. I want you to have your life, Alyssa, the life you want, wherever you want to live it. I don't want it to be a life based on pain and anger. You have told me many times that you know what you want, and you know how to get it. So get it. Don't do it by hurting the Hathaways. I already did that, more than you can ever understand."

* * *

Paige didn't understand how Riley could change gears so quickly. Since they'd returned to his apartment from their ride an hour earlier, he'd parked himself in front of the computer, pounding the keyboard in search of more information on the dragon. He seemed to have forgotten all about her, about their kiss, about the fact that if they'd wanted to continue that kiss in the privacy of his apartment, they could have done just that. Obviously, he'd had second thoughts. But why?

She felt annoyed, restless, wanting answers to questions she didn't have the courage to ask, so she did what he was doing, turned her attention to the mystery surrounding them.

"Have you found anything?" she asked.

Riley didn't answer her. She wasn't even sure he'd heard the question. That was the thing with him. He gave one hundred percent to every task, whether it be attacking a monster hill on a mountain bike or researching an ancient artifact. She liked that about him. She liked a lot of things about him. More important, she liked the way she was when she was with him.

Sitting down on his couch, she stretched out legs, feeling a delicious ache of weariness. Defeating that hill had given her a sense of confidence and self-worth that she hadn't felt in a long time. She remembered the feeling from when she was at college and she'd spent two years on the crew team. Rowing had also made her feel as if she was using her body, her muscles, her mind, accomplishing something. She'd been drifting the past few years, going from one mundane task to the next. She'd lost her focus, her purpose. She'd just been waiting, counting minutes, passing time until the magic moment when she would assume her intended role at Hathaway's.

She realized now that taking over Hathaway's would not happen by chance, that she would have to make it happen. She couldn't keep moaning about unimportant duties; she needed to find her own work, her own role at the store. Maybe it wouldn't be as CEO or CFO, since those jobs were already taken, but surely there was something she could do to leave her mark on the company. She just had to find it and then do it—tomorrow or the next day. She didn't have to find herself a job right this second. In fact, she could think of lots of other things she could be doing right now, including finishing that kiss she'd started with Riley in the middle of an intersection in San Francisco.

She was tempted to get him out of his chair and into the messed-up bed she could see through the half-open door to his bedroom. Sheets and blankets were tossed in abandon, making her want to jump into the middle of them and roll around with Riley. A shot of heat swept through her body at the thought. She couldn't do what she was thinking, could she?

She had to get a grip. Sex with Riley would only complicate things. They'd never work out as a couple.
Would they?

Even if they could get past the differences in the way they'd grown up, what about the way they lived now? She might rail against Hathaway standards, but there was no denying the fact that she liked some of the culture she'd grown up with—the ballet, the symphony, the art museums. And she wanted commitment, a husband, children, the happily-ever-after she'd read about in so many books.

Did Riley want any of that? He loved his grandparents, but he couldn't seem to let himself get close to anyone else. She knew his mother had hurt him deeply. Too deeply for him to be able to trust, to love another woman?

"Paige. Yoo-hoo, Paige."

She started, realizing the object of her thoughts was now staring at her. "What?"

"I've been talking to you for three minutes."

"That's funny. I asked you a question awhile ago, and you didn't even answer."

"I found something," he said, ignoring her comment.

"About the dragon?"

"About my grandfather."

She looked at the screen. "Where are you?"

"Social Security. My grandfather worked at Hathaway's from 1946 to 1952, when the store burned to the ground."

"That makes sense, because the store was closed down while it was rebuilt. I'm sure a lot of employees were let go."

"I'm sure they were." He closed one screen and went to the next. He brought up an old newspaper article. "Did you know that the fire occurred during the Chinese New Year's Parade?"

Another bell went off in her head. "I remember hearing that. They thought it might have been started by some errant fireworks."

"Actually, the article claims there were traces of gasoline in the basement and suspicion of arson."

"Really? I never heard that, but it happened a long time before I was born."

"Do you know who was the first man on the scene?"

"Your grandfather?" she ventured.

"Guess again."

"My grandfather?"

"You've got one more choice."

She frowned. "I don't see what it is."

"Lee Chen."

"Lee Chen?" she echoed, seeing the excited light in Riley's eyes.

"Alyssa's grandfather," he said. "We're connected, Paige, all three of us. It says in the article that Lee Chen, an employee at the store, was the first one on the scene. He tried to put the fire out but it was too hot, and he suffered burns on his hands before he was pulled out of the store."

"What a strange coincidence," she said, still trying to make sense of all the connections.

"Is it a coincidence? What do you bet that Lee Chen was never rehired after the fire?"

"Why wouldn't he have been—if he tried to save the store?"

"Did he try to save it? Or did he start the fire? The first one on the scene could have also been the person who started it."

"That's quite a leap. You got angry at me for making that same jump to your grandfather. We should be careful who we accuse."

"Agreed. But at least we're narrowing down the suspects."

"The suspects to what, Riley? Are we trying to figure out who set fire to the store fifty years ago? Or are we trying to figure out what happened to a dragon that disappeared last week?"

"That depends on whether that dragon ties the two events together."

"Which would take us back to the idea that the dragon might have been owned by the store at one point. You didn't like that scenario, remember?"

He tipped his head. "I still don't think my grandfather stole it. But I'm willing to keep an open mind on where it's been in the last hundred years."

"That's big of you."

"I also think that the fact that these three men knew each other at one point is somehow very important. They all worked at Hathaway's in some capacity."

"I agree," Paige said. "Maybe Alyssa or Jasmine could tell us about Lee."

Paige's cell phone rang as she finished speaking, and Paige had the eerie sensation that someone had been reading her mind. Her suspicion was confirmed when Alyssa's voice came over the phone.

"Alyssa," she said. "Riley and I were just talking about you. We found an odd connection between not just you and me, but Riley, too. Your grandfather's name is Lee Chen, right?" It suddenly occurred to her that Lee Chen was a fairly common name.

"Yes," Alyssa said. "Why do you ask?"

"We discovered that he worked at Hathaway's a long time ago."

"I just learned that as well."

"Riley's grandfather worked there, too. And, of course, my grandfather. They must have all known one another. I don't know what it means. It could be a small world, a really big coincidence, or a great lead. That doesn't narrow it down much, does it?"

"No, but perhaps we can narrow it down further," Alyssa said. "I spoke to Benjamin Fong again. He says his uncle has some information for us about the dragon. I'm meeting them in a half hour -- that's why I'm calling."

She was thrilled that Alyssa had thought to let her know. "I'd love to come with you. Riley would, too."

Alyssa hesitated. "I've been thinking about everything. I don't completely trust you, Paige. You might be trying to frame my mother for some sort of theft."

Paige's heart sank. Another distrusting soul. She seemed to be surrounded by them. She looked at Riley and caught him watching her with a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn't completely trust her, either. She would just have to prove herself to both of them. "I don't want to hurt your mother in any way," she said firmly, returning her attention to the phone call. "What's between my father and your mother is separate from all this. I want to know who attacked my father, and you want to protect your mother. We're on the same side. And we want to make sure no one else gets hurt. The only way we can do that is to find out what happened to the dragon, if we can."

"All right. Meet me at 3712 Stockton Street, Jimmy Lee's martial arts studio."

Paige ended the call and explained the situation to Riley. "We can go if we want," she told him.

"Of course we're going."

"You're loving this, aren't you?" She could see the sparkle in his eyes, hear the energy in his voice.

"I've always liked a puzzle, and this one is finally starting to come together." He stretched his arms up over his head, then got to his feet. "So, thirty minutes, huh?"

"Yes." She stiffened as Riley took a predatory step in her direction. "What are you doing?"

"I'm walking over to you."

"I can see that, but why are you—Oh," she gasped as his mouth pressed against hers in a crushing, passionate kiss. "You're never going to ask me first, are you?" she muttered when he let her catch her breath.

"Are you complaining?"

"Yes, I'm complaining. I've been here for almost an hour, and this is the first move you've made."

He laughed. "You never say what I think you're going to say." He swooped in and stole another kiss.

"We only have thirty minutes," she reminded him.

"There are a lot of things we can do in that amount of time, princess," he said, a husky note in his voice.

"Like what?" she asked breathlessly.

"Use your imagination."

* * *

David felt himself sliding into sleep. The familiar dream welcomed him home.

He was walking through the long dark alley, hearing footsteps coming closer. There were eyes following him, watching him, or maybe it was the dragon's eyes. They glowed in the night, two jade points of light from thousands of years ago. Jasmine's dragon. He had to get back to her. She was the only one who understood. Why couldn't he get to her? Why didn't the alley end? Was it always this long, this narrow? He heard voices hushed, then growing louder, one especially cold and shrill -- Victoria? She stepped in front of him, and something flashed in her hand. A knife? A gun?

"I know what you did, David. You betrayed me. You ruined our name. You hurt your daughter. You must pay."

The gun was pointed straight at his heart. It exploded. He jerked, feeling the shock, the pain, the knowledge that he had really screwed up this time.

"Mr. Hathaway. Mr. Hathaway?"

He blinked as a bright light blinded him. Was this it? The light that would lead him straight to heaven? No, he probably wasn't headed there. Not after the way he'd lived.

"Mr. Hathaway. Wake up. You're dreaming." The hand on his shoulder was firm.

He opened his eyes, looking into the concerned face of the nurse who'd been hired by Victoria to babysit him

"Are you all right?" she asked him. "You screamed bloody murder a minute ago."

"I'm fine." He put a hand on his chest, feeling as if Victoria really had shot him. But there was no bullet hole, no blood, no pain. It was just a nightmare. She didn't know. She couldn't know. He'd never said a word, and Jasmine certainly wouldn't have told her.

Jasmine. She'd been on his mind since he'd woken up. She must have heard the news of his attack. She was probably worried.

"Can I get you anything, Mr. Hathaway?" the nurse asked.

"Yes," he said huskily. "Could you get me a soda from the cafeteria downstairs?"

"There's water right here."

"I'm tired of water. I want a Coke." And he wanted her to leave him alone for a few minutes so he could call Jasmine. Maybe Jasmine could tell him why he'd gone to Chinatown. He didn't know why he couldn't remember anything since Christmas, which according to Paige was a month earlier. Why had his brain cut off the last few weeks? What was his mind hiding?