No answer.
He turned the knob just for grins and found it unlocked. He opened the door far enough to get his voice through and said, “Anyone home?”
No answer.
Louder, “Michelle, are you here?”
No answer.
He stepped inside, leaving the door open.
The place was trashed.
It wasn’t the kind of trashed that came from sloppy housekeeping, it was the kind that came from someone tearing the place apart.
His pulse raced.
A quick search of the first floor turned up more disorder but no humans.
He headed upstairs two at a time.
11
The Green Dragon Oriental Massage turned out to be in the heart of Chinatown on the Street of Painted Balconies, which was an alley between Stockton and Grant. Waverly opened a metal mesh screen door and stepped into a dim red room with lots of plants, a koi pond and soft abstract music. Herbs scented the air. An Asian woman entered from the back through a barrier of hanging beads.
She was striking, exotic, about thirty, with a tiny waist and long black hair styled with bangs that hung a little too far over her eyes. Her body was wrapped in a full length kimono. Her glance dropped to Waverly’s suitcase then back up.
She walked over, pecked a kiss onto Waverly’s lips and said, “You’re prettier than I expected.”
“You’re Su-Moon?”
“I’m Su-Moon, Su-Sun, whoever you want me to be. Tilt says he’s a big-shot owner of a paper now, is that true?”
“Mostly.”
“That’s because of me,” Su-Moon said. “I wished him good karma. It always comes true.”
“Why did you wish him good karma?”
“He was a good tipper,” Su-Moon said.
“Tilt?”
Su-Moon nodded.
“Shelby Tilt?”
Right.
Him.
“There must be two guys with the same name.”
Su-Moon laughed then held Waverly’s hands and looked her up and down. “Later I’ll give you acupuncture-very, very sensual. There’s a deep part of you inside that you don’t know about yet. You’ll never be the same. I’ll bring it out for you. No charge.” She picked up Waverly’s suitcase and said, “Follow me.”
Through the beaded barrier was a long black hallway with doors painted cartoon colors. All were open except three. The moaning of a male voice came from behind one of the closed ones.
“I assume that’s a happy ending,” Waverly asked.
“A very happy ending,” Su-Moon said. “Happy for us too. More money that way.”
“What about the cops?”
“What about them?”
“They don’t, you know, interfere?”
Su-Moon smiled.
“All the massage parlors are controlled by an organization,” she said. “That organization puts money in the right hands to make sure things operate smoothly.”
“What kind of organization? Like the mafia?”
“Basically yes,” Su-Moon said. “Except all Asian, no outsiders. I don’t own this place. The organization does. I only manage it. Right now we have three girls working. Tonight we’ll have ten.”
At the end of the hall was a door.
Su-Moon unlocked it then relocked it after they passed through.
On the other side of it was a wooden stairway.
On the second floor was an apartment.
“This is where I live,” Su-Moon said. “And now you.”
The place was a throwback to another land and time, filled with all things eastern, knickknacks and treasures, large and small.
“There’s only one bed,” Su-Moon said.
“I can sleep on the floor.”
“It’s big enough for two,” Su-Moon said. “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t mind.”
“Okay. Thanks again.”
They had tea.
Then Waverly got directions to the San Francisco Public Library and headed out.
Time was ticking.
12
River got the chains and ropes and supplies situated at the graveyard and headed back across the topography under a warm Colorado sun. As his car came into sight something was wrong. The passenger door was open and some scumbag was inside ripping him off.
He broke into a sprint, a silent sprint, not shouting, not giving a warning.
There was nothing worth stealing.
That wasn’t the issue.
The issue was respect.
Someone didn’t respect him enough to leave his stuff alone.
That was a mistake.
If someone wanted to screw with him, fine, but do it to his face.
At least be a man about it.
Don’t be a rat-faced sneak.
Rat-faced sneaks ended up dead.
Two choppers with narrow grips came into view at a standstill on the other side of the car. There were three figures total, a woman and two men, heavily tattooed, wearing leather vests and bandanas. The men looked strong
