The Risk Agent by Ridley Pearson

slightly as she returned the device to its holster.
    “Anything else?” he asked.
    “Was there anyone within your company who served as a primary contact with Lu Hao?”
    “Preston Song.”
    “I would like a meeting with Mr. Song. Not here. Not in the company building. Perhaps something social. But soon.”
    “I’ll arrange it.”
    Before he opened the doors to the office, Marquardt said, “Please be careful, Ms. Chu. Yes?”
    Grace nodded.
    Back inside the office, Marquardt raised his voice slightly to make sure his assistants heard. “I trust you will find your new residence acceptable. If you have any more problems, feel free to bypass HR and bring them directly to me.” He paused. “We are pleased to have you working with us, Ms. Chu.”
    Grace rode one of the elevators to the lobby and stepped outside for privacy. She returned the call to her mother, speaking Mandarin.
    “Mother?”
    “You come to Shanghai and do not tell me? What kind of daughter are you?”
    Her mother continued berating her, but Grace was stuck on the fact that her mother knew she was in Shanghai.
    “How can you possibly—? I only arrived
this morning
.”
    “Third cousin by marriage, Teardrop Chang, was on a flight from Hong Kong. You do not call your own mother? Your mother who carried you for nine months? Your mother who suffered your birth?”
    “Of course I was going to call,” she lied.
    “If you have returned for the sake of little brother Lu, please do not tell your father. He will most certainly have heart failure.”
    “Why would I return for the sake of Lu Hao?” Grace tried to sound naïve, her heart pounding now. Her mother could not possibly know of the voice mail she’d received from Lu Hao ahead of his kidnapping—a voice mail she’d ignored.
    “Little brother Lu has not called his mother. Does not answer his mobile phone. Has not been seen. Do you know nothing, my daughter the detective?”
    “Listen, Mother,” she hissed into the phone, covering the mouthpiece with her free hand, “I am
not
a detective. I am an accountant. A contract accountant. And please,
no names
over the phone.” Then more conversationally, “You must not speak of that which you do not witness yourself. Such mistruths are dangerous.
Do you hear me,
Mother?
Dangerous.
Think carefully of the well-being of your family.” Appealing to the woman’s sense of family was often the only way to get through to her—not a card Grace could play very often.
    “If you can, you must help…our friend’s son,” her mother said. “He must have his medicine, the poor boy. His mother is vexed, although he looked fine to me at the party.”
    Grace had been told of Lu Hao’s epilepsy, years before, by his older brother. But she’d forgotten until now, had not considered he would be on daily medication.
    “What party, Mother?”
    “His mother, Lu Li’s celebration. Four years of the rabbit!”
    “Lu Hao was at the party?”
    “Of course. As was I.”
    “What day was that?”
    “Sixteenth of September.”
    “You are certain?” Lu Hao had left the voice mail for her on Friday the seventeenth.
    “Have I not known this woman my entire life? I’m as certain as I am of the shame you bring upon your father by not accepting the betrothal he has arranged for you.” She never failed to rub salt into that wound. “For Lu Li’s birthday, the families gathered.”
    “Lu Hao was there on the island that Thursday?”
    “Are you listening? Do you doubt your own mother? Four day celebration!”
    “I will call you later,” she said and hung up.
Friday the seventeenth.
Guilt over never having returned his call wormed inside her.
    Lu Hao’s medical condition had not come up when she’d recommended him for the contract work for The Berthold Group. Along with the surprise that came with her mother’s knowledge of her arrival was the news about Lu’s condition, and the inescapable—and perhaps intentional—reminder of Lu Hao’s older brother, Lu