TAUT (39 page)

She snorts. God, I’ve missed her snorts. “Every time I come to LA, I hit up Mastro’s first.”

And just like that our fight is wiped away. We drive down the hill into Beverly and have dinner. Ashleigh is still weighing heavily on my mind. I feel like I’m wasting time, like I need to be doing something right now. But it’s not good to act impulsively. I need information and advice. And Rook is my sounding board. I tell her everything. We are friends. Best friends. And that’s exactly how it feels. Like this girl is the only person on this whole planet who won’t judge me, no matter what I tell her.

She listens to the entire story—laughing at the funny parts, crying her blue eyes out when I describe Ashleigh at the cemetery, and then sighing with sadness when I describe the scene this morning at my house.

“What should I do, Rook?”

“She wants you to sweep her off her feet, Ford.”

“Yeah, but she’s gone. How the hell?”

“You’re the genius,” she says, taking a drink of her soda. “I’m sure you can come up with something. There has to be a way to get her away from them and not have her committed in the process. Can’t you just hack into her father’s shit and fuck it up?”

I laugh at her silliness. “No, he’s big time. He’s dirty, like me. He’s not going to sit back and let me fuck with his multi-billion-dollar pharmaceutical business.”

“So you have to make it personal then, right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. I look down at my watch. “Pam has you booked first class on the eleven-fifteen flight back to DIA. You can’t spend the night. Ronin will be pissed.”

She takes my hand and pouts. “Are you sure, Ford? I can smooth things out with Ronin if you need my help.”

“No, I need to think. I’ll drive you to the airport.”

It’s hard to say goodbye to Rook when I drop her off at LAX Departures, but she needs to go home where she belongs and I need to come up with a plan, and that plan involves another phone call to Merc. I take out my phone and press Adam.

Merc answers on the second ring. “Yeah.”

“I need a big Merc.”

“I hope to God that baby-fucking-sitter didn’t steal your kid and you went apeshit and killed her and now you need to escape the country under the assumed name of BJ Cobbledick.” He pauses. “Or something.”

I know better than to feed Merc’s insults so I ignore that whole fucking outburst. “I need dirt, Merc. Lots of dirt.”

“What’s the name?”

“Damian Li, owner of Li Pharmaceutical Imports, based in Tijuana. How fast can you get it?”

“Depends, Ford.” I hear keystrokes and know he’s looking right now. “He’s big time. You sure you wanna mess with him?”

“I’m in love with his daughter and he took her away this morning.”

“Give me a few days.”

“I’m leaving for location filming a week from today. I need it before then.”

“Got it.”

I press end on the phone and tuck it back into my coat pocket. I finish the drive home in silence. I’m missing them. I’m missing Ashleigh’s antics and Kate’s gummy smile. This is the first night in a week that we’ve been apart and I am missing them.

I park the Audi and look longingly over at the Bronco, picturing our road trip. Those were the best seven days of my life. Truly. I get out and go inside, not even bothering to turn on the lights until I get to Kate’s room.

It’s wrong for it to be empty. Just wrong.

I think about my plan as I take in her things. Her little crib that is not nearly good enough for her. She deserves something fancy and pink. This one is just a portable fold-up thing that Pam got in a hurry. No love went into choosing it. If I get them back, we’ll buy all this stuff again. We’ll spend lots of time mulling over every little detail.

But right now I need to think about the job. Because the risks this time are so much higher than money and prison time.

This time, I’m risking my heart.

Chapter Forty-Three

The downtown San Diego office of Damian Li, CEO of Li Pharmaceuticals is not what I expected.

One, it’s not an office building like one might imagine houses other large corporations around the world. And two, it’s not some waterfront warehouse that one might imagine houses an international drug smuggler.

No. Damian Li’s office is actually a craftsman-style bungalow in Hillcrest.

A house. A fucking house smack on Sixth Avenue, in the middle of one of the largest gay communities in California, across from Balboa Park, with no fucking off-street parking. I drive past to make sure I know where the place is, then hang a right onto Laurel and go down a few blocks until I see the brightly colored lavender building and hang a left into the alley where a tall, thirty-something blonde woman waves out a hello. I unlock the doors and she opens the passenger side and gets in with a whoosh.

“I told you it was easy to find,” she says, dragging her seatbelt across her chest. California has its people trained well. We are going two blocks down the road, but the seatbelt action is instantaneous and automatic.

“Well.” I nod up at the building. “It’s the only fucking purple office building on Laurel. Not exactly stealthy.”

“No, we’re not about being stealthy here.” She chuckles at her inside joke.

“Right.” I look over her clothes and give her the once-over, then proceed down the alley so I can get back over to Sixth Avenue. “Well, you clean up nice. That outfit is perfect.”

“Thanks, I had a little help, but yeah. I like the business classy look. I might adopt it in the future.”

“Good for you,” I say absently as I search for an on-street parking spot. “Who the fuck has an office with no parking?”

“I thought you said he does business in TJ?”

I shoot her a dirty look. “Just remember when we get inside, no talking. You nod or look to me for guidance, got it?”

She waves her hand at me like I’m the one annoying
her
. “There!” she exclaims, pointing. “That guy’s pulling out. Quick, put your blinker on and—”

I reach over and place my hand over her mouth. “No. Talking. I know how to parallel park, for fuck’s sake. Stop mothering me.”

She rolls her eyes when I move my hand and wait for the car to pull out, then I slip in and straighten out the Audi. I let out a deep breath and look over at my accomplice. “Please, just whatever you do, don’t fuck this up. I only have one chance.”

She holds up three fingers on her right hand. “Scout’s Honor.”

“That is just so unnecessary.”

She snickers.

Please, God, I know I don’t check in often since I’m pretty good at figuring this life shit out myself, but please, do not let this woman fuck up my plan. I beg you. You totally owe Ashleigh.

And then I get out of the car and walk down the street and cut over to Sixth Avenue to Damian Li’s home office. It’s a modest place for a man of his stature, but real estate is at a premium here, so it’s a much bigger deal than it looks like from the street. I walk up the expansive porch supported by the signature craftsman-style pillars, and then tap the large square knocker on the equally impressive front door.

Mr. Li greets us personally.

How quaint.

“Mr. Aston.” He smiles a fake smile. I might not be Ronin, but I can finger the fakeness as well as anyone. “It’s nice to see you again. You’re looking well.” He steps out of the way and waves me forward. “Come in, please.”

He eyes my companion with a slight narrowing of his eyes, but that’s all. To her credit, she says nothing. We are directed through the reception room and down a hallway to the office. “Do you live here?” I should not be worried about it, but I can’t help myself. What the fuck is up with the house-slash-office in Hillcrest?

“No. It’s a business property, used for… recruitment.”

“Ah,” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. “I see.”

Li takes a seat at a massive desk. There are diplomas on the wall and this is yet another thing that takes me off task. “You’re a doctor?”

“Not my certificates, I’m afraid. I have employees who man this house when it’s in use. Please,” he says, motioning to the two chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.” And then he looks at my accomplice and nods. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Yes, well, she’s my secret weapon, Mr. Li. Pam, my personal assistant, has been with me since I graduated college. I can’t do anything without her these days.”

My good little assistant is busy texting on her phone and does not even grace Mr. Li with a polite hello.

She’s perfect.
Thank you, God
.

“Well,” Li says clasping his hands together like this is a pleasant social call. “What can I do for you?”

I take the passports out of my pocket and hold them up in the air. “I just wanted to return these to Ashleigh. She left behind all her stuff, mostly just old clothes and baby things that are easily replaced, but getting a new passport is a bitch. I figured she’d want them back.”

“Yes,” he says reaching across the desk. “I can take those and deliver them the next time I’m up at the family home.”

I tuck the passports back into my inside pocket. “Well, Mr. Li, that’s great. Really great. I’ll be relieved to be relieved of them, but to be perfectly honest, I’m not here to return the passports.”

He smiles, like my pathetic passport ruse was so amateur.

“I’m actually here to request one short visit with Ashleigh and Katelynn. I’m worried, Mr. Li. You see, Ashleigh mentioned that she was not on speaking terms with you or her sister. So I’m wondering if something nefarious is going on. I like Ashleigh. I’d like to make sure she’s OK, and I’d like to request a visit today, if you can swing it. One fifteen-minute visit, and then I’m afraid I have to be going. I’m leaving the country, we’re filming on location for the next six weeks.”

He stares at me. His eyes narrow. His face whitens just a smidge. His hands steeple under his chin and he smiles. He senses the trap. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse, Mr. Aston. She’s not well. She’s recovering from a severe depression.”

“Is she medicated?”

He pauses again, mulling over what kind of danger answering this question could lead him into, then decides none. “No. She’s combative in that regard. The…” He pauses. “The breastfeeding. She’s still breastfeeding because the child won’t accept formula. The transition hasn’t been as easy as we’d hoped.”

Transition to what?

But I lock that shit away.
Later, Ford,
the voice in my head warns me.

“Fifteen minutes. I’m going to have to insist.”

And this time his smile is real. Because I just laid out my hand. I’m here. I want something. I’m not leaving until I get it.

Li opens his top desk drawer and removes an envelope. He places it on top of the immaculately varnished wooden desk, then pushes it in my direction with a single fingertip. “Your compensation, Mr. Aston. For taking care of my youngest daughter when she was ill.”

“Thank you.” I smile and nod but do not take the money. I don’t know what the fuck he thinks I am, but desperate for a few thousand dollars is not it.

“It’s two million dollars, Mr. Aston. You might rethink your reluctance.”

“Was she checked into a facility, Mr. Li?”

He pushes the envelope a little closer.

“I need a face-to-face, Mr. Li. I’m worried about her. You see, my father was a rather well-known psychiatrist and he had a lot of friends in So Cal.”

His eyes narrow again.

“I called them immediately after she was taken away. They’ve been keeping tabs on all the local facilities. Now maybe you took her to a place far away, that’s entirely possible. But if that’s the case I need to know where. I need to check up on this and I won’t let it go. All I want is fifteen private minutes, then I walk away, get on my plane, and never bother you again. But I will get that visit, Mr. Li. I have another associate, one with skills that match or exceed my own, who has been doing a little digging.” I stop here to see if this registers.

He tips his chin up in a defiant gesture and that’s my proof that yes, it does in fact make a difference.

“He’s been researching you, Mr. Li. Or should I call you Dr. Matigan?”

He looks quickly over to my assistant who is still busy on her phone. He studies her for several seconds before dragging his gaze back to me.

“She’s deaf, Mr. Li. That’s why she’s so valuable.”

“Mr. Aston,” he says in a totally different voice than the placating one he’s been using on me since I arrived. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

I’d like to laugh in his face. And if I wasn’t so close to getting what I want, I might. But now is not the time for childish antics. Ashleigh needs me. “I’m afraid I do. And that’s why I will insist on a visit. Right now. I already know she’s in the Rancho Santa Fe house. It’s a forty-minute drive up, a fifteen-minute private visit, and then we’ll be out of your life.”

He looks over at my assistant again, hesitating.

“I do not go anywhere without her, so the answer to your next demand is no. She stays with me. We follow you up or you give us permission to go up without you. Whatever works.”

“Mr. Aston, there is nothing nefarious going on here. Ashleigh is sick. She’s been mentally ill her whole life. She’s been in and out of treatment facilities, she’s been on medication since she was a small child for attention deficit disorder, she’s run wild over in Japan with no therapists, no mood-stabilizing drugs, doing God knows what. She’s out of control. She got pregnant out of wedlock by a man whose family would just as soon kill her as look at her. My mortal enemy, Mr. Aston. She had a baby with the son of my mortal enemy. She endangered that child by going off on that half-cocked road trip and they’d probably both be dead if you weren’t there. And now that the Fenici family understands the scope of Anthony’s deception, they are
very
interested in that baby. They want her. And they will not get her. So my eldest daughter has stepped in and we’re taking care of it. She will legally adopt Katelynn and the Fenici ties will be broken.”

He waits to see what my response is, but this is not the time or place for a statement. So I shut my fucking mouth and wait.