Shadow Harvest (A Sydney Rye Mystery, #7) Page 5

  "That smells great," I said.

  "I figured you would be hungry," Loki said.

  I slipped onto a barstool and watched him work. A rice cooker bubbled on the counter. Loki added raw chicken to a smoking hot wok and it sizzled loudly as he stirred it, the metal of his spoon clanging against the pan.

  "What are you making?"

  "A simple stir fry, it will be good for you after your journey."

  I didn't answer, just sipped at my seltzer bottle and watched him work. His concentration was complete as he added a sauce from a small bowl. Smoke rose from the wok as the liquid instantly began to boil.

  Blue pushed his nose against my elbow, reminding me that he'd like his dinner as well.

  "There's dog food?" I asked.

  Loki nodded, "I'll get it."

  "Don't worry, I can do it," I said, coming around the bar and entering the cooking space.

  "Under the sink," he said.

  I found the bag of dog food and a bowl. Blue pranced in front of me, his nails clicking on the floor with anticipation. I put the bowl down away from the cooking area and he waited for me to command him to eat. When I did he descended upon the food like it had been days since he'd eaten rather than hours.

  After washing my hands I returned to my seat. Loki was just finishing the stir fry and began to move it to a serving tray. A sprinkle of chopped scallions on top and he placed it on the bar before moving to the rice cooker and spooning mounds of fluffy white rice into a bowl. He placed it next to the stir fry and then provided me with a plate and silverware from the cabinet.

  "Aren't you joining me?" I asked.

  "No, thank you," he said. "I have a dinner obligation this evening."

  I wondered if it was with a client. Did Loki just run Lenox's business here or was he also a gigolo? I wondered if he'd been offering his own company this evening or if he would have brought someone in for me. I didn't judge people who sold their bodies. But I'd never paid for pleasure. Lenox explained it to me once as a game of pretend that both parties enjoyed. Like actors, they knew the passion wasn't real, but that didn't make the feelings they evoked invalid.

  The stir fry was delicious, subtly flavored with a touch of heat. "So good," I told Loki.

  His smile was small but genuine. As I ate he cleaned up the kitchen. While he dried the last dish I finished my first helping, and was eyeing the still almost full platter of stir fry. Blue rose from where he'd been sleeping at my feet and moved quickly to the door, a low growl rising from his throat.

  "Someone is here," I said, putting down my silverware and stepping off the barstool.

  Loki moved quickly to the door just as the bell rang. "It's probably Mitchel and Chang," he said. By the entrance was a screen and buzzer. Loki confirmed his suspicions before buzzing them in.

  Mitchel looked disheveled. He was carrying two laptop bags over his shoulder and a metal case. Chang came in behind him carrying a large duffel bag. Blue sat by my side, watching me, making sure these guests were invited.

  "Get everything you needed?" I asked.

  "Yup," he grinned. "Where should I set up?"

  Loki escorted him upstairs, Chang following with the duffel bag.

  Loki and Chang returned moments later. "We will leave you for the evening," Loki said with a small bow. "The first floor apartment is mine. Chang will stay there until I return this evening. If you need anything at all use the intercom." Loki pointed to a panel in the wall by the door.

  "Okay, tomorrow I'd like to get an early start," I said, antsy to begin looking for Merl.

  "Of course," Loki agreed with a small nod.

  #

  Mitchel came down as the two men were leaving. "Thanks again," he called as the door closed.

  "You hungry?" I asked.

  "Starving," Mitchel answered, moving toward the bar.

  "I'll get you a plate." Grabbing my own empty dish, I put it in the sink before pulling out a clean one for Mitchel. I pushed it across the bar to him before finding the silverware.

  "Any chopsticks?" he asked.

  I returned to the drawer and, replacing the knife and fork, pulled out a pair of chopsticks. They were black and smooth, thick and square at one end, round and narrow at the other. Mitchel had already spooned stir fry and rice onto his plate. He took the chopsticks and began to skillfully shovel food into his face. I watched him for a moment before turning to wash my dishes.

  "How'd you get so good with chopsticks?" I asked.

  "I've spent a lot of time traveling in China and Southeast Asia," Mitchel said, his words muffled by the food in his mouth.

  "When was that?"

  "Right after high school."

  "Wow, that's brave," I said, glancing up at the young man.

  He shrugged. "I'm an army brat so I'm used to travel. I love it. Do you travel much?" he asked.

  "Not for pleasure," I admitted. "I'm not really a vacation kind of person."

  "No?"

  "I always seem to find trouble," I answered, drying my plate and putting it back into the cabinet.

  Mitchel laughed. "Yeah, I think Dan said something like that. You guys went to India together, right?"

  I nodded, turning back to him. "Dan told you that, are you two close?"

  Mitchel nodded. "Oh yeah, he's taught me almost everything I know. The guy’s a genius."

  "That's what he said about you." Mitchel grinned as his cheeks flushed with pride. "I'm gonna go for a jog."

  "Cool, I'll get the computers set up."

  After I’d changed into my jogging clothing Blue and I stepped back out onto the street. The sun was setting, casting a pink glow over the city. The buildings threw long shadows, covering the sidewalks in shade. The fruit stand was shutting down as we walked past. The streets were still crowded with cars and thick with bicycle traffic.

  I picked up my pace to an easy jog once my legs were warmed up a bit. I didn't know the neighborhood but had looked at a map before leaving my room, trying to memorize how to get to the spot where Merl's red dot last appeared. The streets grew narrower as we neared our destination. We came around a corner and I almost collided with a man pulling an empty wooden cart. He stopped short and glared at me. "Sorry," I said, side stepping out of his way and hurrying down the block.

  Merchants were closing up their stores while restaurants turned on their lights. I reached Sing's block. It was lined with stores, their gates being pulled down for the night. I slowed my pace to a walk and counted the storefronts until I found where I thought I was supposed to be. The shop was already closed, the big glass windows coated in dust, as though the store had not been open for years. I didn't stop in front of it, just let my eyes glide over the abandoned-looking space before continuing down the block.

  The buildings were all four stories with apartments above and the storefronts below. Maybe Merl had gone up into one of the apartments. I picked up my pace and ran a couple of blocks before doubling back and walking down the other side of the street. There were lights on in the third floor apartment over the abandoned store. On the second floor the curtains were drawn, but I could see the dim glow of a TV. Blue tapped my hip as I slowed even further, reminding me to keep walking.

  We returned to Lenox's apartment and I took another quick shower before finding Mitchel in an office space on the third floor. He sat behind a large, burnished-metal desk, two laptops surrounding a large monitor. He smiled when he looked up at me. "How's it going?" I asked.

  "Pull up a chair."

  I grabbed one of two leather chairs that faced the desk and brought it around next to Mitchel. "No sign of Merl's beacon but I did find out about the building it sent its last signal from. It's owned by Sing, Merl's friend. He’s the sword maker, right?"

  "Right."

  "Well, there is no mention of that, he is listed as a businessman which is vague enough. He rents out two of the apartments and lives in the third."

  "What about the storefront?"

  "No sign of a tenant."
r />   "Agreed."

  Mitchel glanced over at me but I didn't elaborate.

  "So," Mitchel said, returning his gaze to the computer. "I guess he went to see his friend and got into trouble there. Sing and Mo were friends, right?"

  "Yes."

  "So, maybe they were in the same kind of trouble. But you have no idea what that trouble would be?"

  "No, Merl didn't either."

  Mitchel leaned back in his chair. "Maybe they got mixed up with a triad."

  "Organized crime. Why would they go after a geriatric sword maker and a tai chi instructor?"

  "Government corruption?"

  I sat back in my chair. "We just don't have enough to go on right now. We need to get into that building."

  "We're going over there with Loki tomorrow, right?"

  "Yes, it's smart to go with backup," I answered, as much for myself as Mitchel. I wanted to just go back there now, break in, and check it out. But I wasn't going to do that. "Do you think you'll be able to find the device?"

  "If it's still in the building."

  "There is no way it could just be out of satellite range?"

  "Unless there are secret underground passageways under the building, which, hey, I'm not ruling out."

  "No, never rule out secret underground passages," I said with a smile.

  "You laugh but you'd be surprised by how many underground passageways there are."

  I laughed. "Trust me, I believe you. Is there anything else you can do tonight?"

  "I'm going to continue to look for info about the tai chi school and Sing to see if I can find any connections."

  "Get some sleep, though," I warned, guessing that Mitchel, like Dan, could become so wrapped up in his work that he forgot to rest. "I need you alert tomorrow."

  "Yes, ma’am," Mitchel said.

  "Don't call me that," I warned. "I might be older than you but I'm not that much older than you."

  Mitchel grinned. "Sure."

  "All right," I said, standing up. "I'll leave you to it."

  Back in my room I changed into sweat pants and a T-shirt before climbing into bed. Blue hopped up and circled twice before settling at my feet. I thought about Merl and wondered how anyone could get to him. He was so careful and capable. Had he walked into a trap? But who would even know to lay one? How could they guess that he was coming to see Sing? What did it have to do with Mo? I rolled over, bunching the sheets around me in frustration. Blue raised his head and looked at me, his mismatched eyes glowing green in the dark room. "Sorry," I said. He sighed before returning his head to the mattress and closing his eyes. He was snoring within seconds.

  I envied Blue and his easy discipline. He didn't have trouble falling asleep, eating balanced meals, and exercising. Blue wasn't staying up nights worrying about friends. Dogs lived in the moment—something I needed to learn from him. Something Merl had tried to teach me. Tai chi, the discipline that Mo had taught Merl that helped him conquer his addiction to heroin, was a moving meditation, a practice of staying focused on the moment at hand. I'd never been any good at tai chi. It was slow and deliberate, I preferred fast and deadly. But as I lay there, tying the sheets in knots, I recognized that I needed meditation in my life. Climbing out of the bed I stood and moved to the center of the room.

  Blue woke with my movements and hopped off the bed. "Go back to sleep," I said. He cocked his head. "Down," I commanded. He lowered himself to the ground. I took a cleansing breath and closed my eyes, feeling the air move through me. I went through the fifteen movements of the sun style. After I was done I felt calmer and, climbing back into bed, fell asleep.

  Getting in Trouble

  I woke the next morning with a start. Blue was by the door, his ears perked forward. I listened over the sound of my heart pounding and heard a shower going in another room. I quickly dressed in my jeans, a cotton T-shirt, and a pair of lace-up black boots, then grabbed my leather jacket and headed downstairs. There was a pot of coffee waiting, Loki must have set up the machine to start automatically. As I poured milk into my cup I heard steps on the stairs. Mitchel joined me, his hair still wet, eyes bright.

  "Find anything?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "No, I crashed out soon after you."

  "Hopefully we will come up with something when we head over there," I said, glancing at the clock on the stove. It was 8 am. Loki had said we could leave at 9. Mitchel poured himself a coffee and then turned to the fridge, opening it. “Anything in there for breakfast?" I asked.

  "There's eggs, you want?”

  "Sure," I said, even though I wasn't really hungry. I wanted to get the day going. To go check out Sing’s property. To stop this pussyfooting around.

  After feeding Blue and then eating the eggs Mitchel made for me, I did the dishes. Loki knocked on our door at 8:45 and without waiting for a reply, entered. He smiled when he saw us both in the kitchen. "You found everything you needed?"

  "Yes, thanks," I answered. "I'm ready to go whenever you are."

  "I'll grab my stuff," Mitchel said, hurrying out of the room.

  "A car is waiting downstairs."

  "Great." I put a leash on Blue and slipped into my jacket.

  "Lenox told me you wanted weapons. As you may know, the gun laws here are very strict. I carry a pistol but was not able to obtain one for you. However, I was able to get you this," Loki said, holding out a slim black pipe. I took it in my hand, feeling the weight. "It extends," Loki said.

  "Yes," I said, noticing the seams in the metal. I stepped back and whipped it out, the foot long pole became almost three feet.

  "There is a button there," Loki said, stepping forward and showing me the small impression in the side of the weapon. "For retraction."

  I pressed down the button and, pressing the tip against my leg, shrank the pipe back down to size. Slipping it into my jacket I smiled at Loki. "Thank you," I said, the weight of the weapon bringing me comfort.

  Mitchel returned and we headed down to the street. It was busy with people hustling to work. A black sedan waited at the curb. The driver was broad with a flattened nose that looked like it had gotten that way through punishment rather than genetics. Loki held the door for Blue, Mitchel, and me to climb into the back seat, then took the front. It was a short drive to the building and when we pulled up in front it looked as abandoned as it had the evening before.

  I got out of the car, Blue with me. Loki and Mitchel joined us on the sidewalk. Loki nodded and looking down the block I saw another dark sedan idling at the curb. "They're with us?" I asked.

  "Just in case," Loki answered.

  "I like the way you think."

  Loki rang the bell of Sing's apartment and when there was no answer he pulled out a small lock-picking kit and deftly opened the door. It creaked on its hinges. The hall was dusty. The steps had the same worn out centers as Lenox's place, but the walls were not freshly painted and the wood hadn't been polished in years, possibly decades.

  Loki checked the door to the commercial space and found it locked. He used his tools again and soon we were inside. The space was separated into multiple rooms. A small anteroom faced the street, as dusty and abandoned-looking as the hall. But when Loki picked the lock into the back room we were surprised to find an immaculate studio.

  At the back of the room was a furnace, turned off now, but the ashes in its hearth showed it had recently been used. The furnace vented out the back of the building. In front of it were several anvils. Rows of hammers fanned out from them, all within easy reach. In the front of the room were racks with swords on them. I picked one up. It was lighter than I thought. Grasping the handle, which looked like it was made from bone, I pulled the blade from its sheath. It caught the low light in the room and shone bright silver on the edge, while the rest of the blade was matte.

  Loki looked over my shoulder. "A beautiful weapon," he said.

  "Yes," I agreed.

  Mitchel picked up another and Loki narrowed his eyes. "Be careful," he warned. Mitchel
put it back, his cheeks flushing with color.

  "This place is clean, I mean, it looks recently used,” I said.

  "Yes," Loki agreed, approaching the furnace.

  Mitchel pulled a hand-held device out of his bag and turned it on. He began running it over the space. "Checking for listening devices."

  "Okay, Loki, let's you and I go upstairs,” I said. “See if there is anybody home."

  Loki nodded and after replacing the sword on its holder we headed back to the steps, leaving Mitchel in the studio. On the second floor landing we stopped to listen at the door. I could hear a TV on, canned laughter floated through the wooden door. We continued up to the third floor. It was quiet. A knock brought no one to the door.

  We continued to the top floor. Loki knocked. I watched Blue's ears but there didn't seem to be any movement inside. Loki pulled out his lock pick kit again and went to work on the door. It opened into an apartment that smelled like home-cooked meals but nothing fresh. We walked into a living room with a couch and two chairs. The walls were lined with books. A hardback sat open on one of the chairs as if someone had gotten up from reading it and come to the door. A half-finished cup of tea sat on the side table next to the chair. There was a ring where the liquid had initially sat, the evaporated surface was now covered with a layer of dust.

  Blue, nose to the ground, investigated the living room, his ears swiveling. I started through a door to our left and found the kitchen. The sink was clean, dishes all put away. There was an eerie stillness to the place, more than just an unoccupied home. Blue ran out ahead of me, checking under the counters and around the fridge. I opened the door. Leftovers in a bowl covered in plastic wrap had not gone bad. Maybe he'd left this morning, maybe several days ago but not long.

  "What do you think?" I asked.

  "Doesn't look like a struggle."

  "He locked the door behind him."

  "Yes."

  We checked the rest of the apartment. Found the bed made, the bathroom clean, medication lining the sink, toothbrush in its holder. There was nothing to suggest that this man was not due home any minute. Except there was a staleness to the air. The windows were all closed, curtains drawn. Not that any of it meant anything. Maybe I was creating signs of trouble where there wasn't any.