“Have you talked to her? Is she in shock?”
“I think a little bit. She’s been talking in Vietnamese—she only knows a little. She was adopted when she was a real little girl, like two or three, so it’s amazing she remembered any. But she worked in a couple of manicure shops that were owned by Vietnamese and picked some up again. She was born in America. I think this Vietnamese stuff... I think it’s stress.”
“Okay,” Blake said, rubbing a big hand down his face. “What is it you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. We have to get out of here—the door won’t close. I wasn’t sure I could convince her...”
“Right,” he said. “Go try to make some sense of the mess in the living room and kitchen. Do a little straightening, figure out what’s missing if you can.”
“What if they come back?” Charlie said.
“That would make my day,” Blake said, eyes narrow, jaw clenched. “Those three dopers who chased you the other day?”
“Seems like. But you gotta wonder why they didn’t do it sooner. I mean, we’ve been here nine months.”
“Maybe we’ll figure it out later. Right now we have to get this place under control, pack up some things, leave. You work out here. Let me see to your mom.”
Blake went into the bedroom. He scooped up a pile of clothes off the floor, dumped it on the bed, knelt by Lin Su and began folding. There were jeans and board shorts and T-shirts and sweatshirts. Some looked as if they were stained with paint and he instinctively knew they hadn’t been like that before. Some were ripped. Slit. It looked as though a pocket knife could’ve done the damage. He tossed those in a pile. And some were all right, completely salvageable. Those he folded.
She didn’t speak; she just carefully folded clothes from her pile, then began taking clothes from his pile. They proceeded like that for a few minutes before she looked up. “Why are you here?”
“Charlie called me,” he said.
“He shouldn’t have called you. We can manage.”
“Either you’re a very messy housekeeper or you’re not managing that well. We should pack a few things.”
“I can take care of it,” she said.
“I don’t know you very well, Lin Su,” he said. He continued to fold. “But I know you like to do your work, pay your way, take care of your son and responsibilities. But sometimes you have to be humble. Sometimes when you have an opportunity, you have to be gracious and not stubborn. You are so stubborn.”
“Stubborn is strong,” she said.
“Stubborn is also pigheaded and counterproductive. Tomorrow is Charlie’s first day of school and you really shouldn’t stay here tonight—it’s obviously not safe.”
“There’s a motel...”
He put his big hand over her forearm, stopping her from her task. Was she talking about that shithole down the street? He couldn’t stand to even think about it. “Save that money—you’re going to have to buy a new winter coat. They ripped it off. And some of these clothes will have to be replaced.”
She stopped, holding a pair of jeans in her lap, looking at him suspiciously. “Why do you have a house with so many bedrooms and beds? Are you opening a brothel?”
A short burst of laughter escaped him. “Good idea!” he said. “I have a team and associates. I have a coach and trainer. I usually have a couple of people staying with me two weeks before a race. We travel together for the race and I always give myself a couple of days of training in either a different time zone or altitude. I train almost year-round but hit the training hard before a big race. I used to rent space for my team. I told you, this is my first house. The bedrooms, it turns out, will come in handy.”
“I can afford the motel,” she said. “I have savings.”
“You’re a mule,” he accused, but he grinned when he said it. “Let’s make sure Charlie is comfortable—tomorrow is a big day. Most of all, let’s lower his stress if we can—he’s very worried about you. And if you stay here or in a seedy motel tonight, he won’t sleep.”
“I am always there for Charlie. He can depend on me.”
“Awesome. I don’t suppose you have a suitcase?”
She glanced around. “I had a couple of large duffels—I don’t see them.”
“I have a couple of gym bags in the car. I’ll dump them out so you can borrow them.” He looked at her and just shook his head. “You know, I usually do well with the girls. I make them laugh. I’m charming.”
“Perhaps the problem is that I’m not a girl,” she said.
“Perhaps the problem is that you’re obstinate and inflexible,” he suggested.
“If you find me so thoroughly flawed, why offer all this assistance?” she asked. “It’s a little invasive, you know. I’ve been through worse. It’s a temporary setback, that’s all.”
“This is an emergency,” Blake said. “You’ll stay the night so Charlie can get some sleep and have a good first day of school. Then we’ll look at the options. Do you own this trailer? Can we move it to the property? Cooper has a hookup beside the bar. He has a trailer he brings out of storage for a guest room when family visits and we could put yours...”
She was shaking her head. “I rent it.”
“Then gather up as much as you can and we’ll put the padlock back on the outside. Maybe you’ll come back for more of your things when Winnie is resting. If you need help, I’ll help you. Let’s do this,” he said, getting off the bed.
He went to his car to dump out his duffels. He took a great deal of time on the easy project so that Lin Su could talk to Charlie if she was so inclined. While he was standing there he heard someone yell. It wasn’t a bad yell, more of a whoop, as if there’d been a touchdown on the TV. Then he heard bottles being dumped in the trash. He saw movement and caught the motion of a person skittering around the cinder-block building. He pulled out his wallet, slipped some bills into each pocket, then threw his wallet in the trunk.
He reached into the trunk for a tire iron and a large industrial-strength flashlight. It had been a very long time since he felt he could be in danger from a bad person. Fifteen years at least. Really, since he was thirteen or fourteen he hadn’t rubbed up against many scumbags who just flat-out enjoyed hurting people. In fact, in all his years, if he ever had anything that could pass for a weapon in his hands—a brick, a bat, a broken bottle—it was because he was in defensive mode, staying alive.
He slammed the trunk, turned on the flashlight and headed across the drive to that brick building. The smell of urine and feces was disgusting. Chances were good that it hadn’t been cleaned in years. For the first time he noticed a ramshackle trailer that had a small sign posted. Manager. M–F 10:00 a.m.–4:00 p.m. He’d check that out later.
He walked around the brick structure, shining his light, and came face-to-face with one of the thugs he’d seen the day
