2
LILY
Present Day, Monday
Cemetery, Hong Kong
Life sucks!
“…you’ll be so proud of her. She recently got promoted.
Now, she’s a supervisor…” Lily’s godmother, Marie, droned on.
Lily wondered if her auntie, being a nun, seriously believed her
dead uncle could hear her.
The two of them had come from a picnic on a park table at
the bottom of the columbarium, which had multiple levels. The
lingering scent of their leftovers seeped out of their to-go
containers.
Lily stared at the little plaque with her uncle’s name, and
dates of birth and death, engraved on it. He’d been all she had
since his wife, Auntie Elsie, had died. Lily’s mother had died
shortly after giving birth to her twenty-two years ago. She’d
never known her father, although she suspected he wasn’t
Chinese. Every time she glanced at her reflection in the mirror,
she could see the mixed features on her face. Her eyes were
rounder than other Hong Kong Chinese; her hair was not jet
black. It was clear to everyone who saw her that she wasn’t of
pure descent. There had been several mixed kids in her school.
They had all assumed she was one of them, and nobody cared. If
she’d gone to the local Chinese school, people might have asked
questions, but the American school had lots of foreign students.
She used to think Auntie was her aunt by blood, since she had
such mixed features herself. Then, she’d learned that her
auntie’s father had been of Portuguese descent.
If she had known her parents, she wouldn't have been as
adrift regarding her identity.
“Lily! Lily, are you okay?”
The words jolted her to the present moment. “Yes, I’m fine.
Thinking about how unfair life is. Why did Uncle have to die?
God already took my mother. Now, he’s taken my uncle, my only
relative.”
Marie, a woman of Chinese and Portuguese descent, had
almond-shaped chestnut eyes and olive skin—an enchanting
blend of eastern elegance and Mediterranean charm. “Oh, Lily.
Life is a tapestry. From the reverse side, how we mortals see life,
it appears ugly and unfair. But when we’re with the Lord, we’ll
see how he wove each thread exquisitely into something beautiful
and fair.”
She had no idea how Auntie could have such strong faith.
But then, she was a nun and daily Mass was part of her routine.
What Lily found most interesting was that Auntie still wore a
habit. “I know, I know, I’ve heard it before. It sounds deep and
all, but it doesn't hit the same when you're living it. I'm still
totally alone.”
Auntie stared at her. “And what am I to you?”
“I’m sorry, Auntie. Of course, you’re important to me. But
you know what I mean. I don’t have any family now.”
Her godmother glanced away and took a deep breath.
Auntie put her hand on her heart and said, “They’re always
with you. They’re here. You’re never alone, my child.”
Her phone vibrated a reminder. Lily glanced at the screen
and noticed the time. “I need to go soon.”
“All right, then.” She turned back toward the plaque. “Happy
heavenly birthday, big brother.” She’d always called Uncle ‘big
brother,’ even though they hadn’t been blood-related. Lily
wished her uncle a happy birthday too before they turned to
leave.
As they walked out of the cemetery, Auntie said, “Tell me
about your new job.”
“It’s not a new job. A different title with a bit more money.”
“But it’s a promotion.”
“Yeah, there’s only one other person in the Business Center.
I don’t have a team of people working for me. We do the same
thing. In fact, a lot of the guests simply want to print something.
A few old-school types want us to play the role of their
secretaries.”
“I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you at the
hotel in the future.” She paused, looking around. “Ah, I’m going
to take the tram. Are you walking to the MTR station?”
The subway was where she was headed, but she had to walk
a couple of blocks still. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”
“All right. Bye.”
3
DYLAN
Wednesday morning
Marino Hotel, Hong Kong
“Tell me again why the proper authorities aren’t involved!”
Tommy hollered from the living room.
Dylan knotted his tie and checked it in the bathroom mirror.
Back home, he hardly wore a suit. Business casual was his work
attire. Unfortunately, the more experienced employees in the
upper echelon had advised him on the business attire in Hong
Kong.
Tommy, on the other hand, had no problem getting dressed
up. The guy carried himself as if he was a model, stepping out of
a GQ magazine. Sometimes, Dylan wondered why his best friend
had opted to be a CPA—such a boring profession.
“Because Agent Peters said it’d be a hassle and time-consuming,”
Dylan answered.
“Wouldn’t you be able to help move things along if you were
the owner?” Tommy replied.
Dylan could hear Tommy searching in the mini-fridge for
something. All dressed, he walked out to the living room. The
aroma of coffee filled the air. “You do know we’re going downstairs
for breakfast, right?”
“So? Checking things out to see if they stocked yours with
better stuff.” Tommy closed the fridge. “Oh, did you notice how
cute that girl who showed us to our suites is? If I see her
again—”
“Don’t even try! We’re here on business. Stick to the agenda,”
Dylan said. “How is it that you’re a CPA? You’re ruining
the image of your profession.”
“And what’s the image?”
“Come on! CPAs are bean counters. Glasses, boring, nerdy.
You’re a chick magnet.”
“And who said accountants can’t be chick magnets? Just
because you live like a monk doesn’t mean I should. Back to the
question. Wouldn’t you, being the owner, help move things
along?”
No matter how many times Dylan told his buddy, Tommy
still referred to Dylan as the owner of the hotel.
“My grandmother is the owner. Yes, I could ask, and she’d
probably smooth things out. But that’s not the main reason.
Remember, the family business has been legit for years now. I
don’t want to tarnish our newly established reputation by
making such a big scandal.”
“Okay, gotcha. We’re searching for a bad apple.”
“You got it.” Dylan patted his pockets to make sure he had
all he needed—cell phone and wallet. “Let’s go.”
“Whatever happened to your game thing? Didn’t you want
to hold some reality show or game?”
“Nah, that was one of my stupid ideas.” In reality, Agent
Peters had talked him out of it.
“Now, why did it take you this long to come to your senses?
I told you that long ago.” Tommy paused. “You know, I have to
say these suites don’t hold a candle to even the junior suites
back in Orlando. These are smaller. The view is great, though.”
Dylan was assigned one of the premier suites, and Tommy
was in an adjacent suite. “Dude, this is Hong Kong. Land is
scarce and property values are sky high. I understand some
Hong Kong folks think they can get real bargains in New York
City or Honolulu.”
“Right—didn’t some VP or other say there are more
Mercedes here per capita than anywhere else?”
Dylan made sure he had the key card and closed the door
behind them. They were to have breakfast with the hotel
manager, Larry. Dylan’s discreet snooping back home had
consisted of talking with lots of old-timers on the pretext of
learning his family history and the business.
His life had turned upside down a few months ago, soon
after his mother’s death. A grandmother he’d never known had
managed to locate him. After a few eventful weeks—including
almost getting shot by a deranged woman—he’d accepted his
grandmother’s offer to stay and work for the family business.
“What made you think this guy is on the take?” Tommy
asked.
“I don’t, except I know someone from this hotel is. I’ve heard
whispers of suspicions, and Agent Peters seems to agree.” A
beep alerted him to a text. He pulled out his phone and saw that
Larry would be slightly delayed. He thumbed back a response to
say, ‘no problem,’ and to Tommy, he said, “He’s delayed. Apparently,
protests are making transportation a nightmare.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked Tommy.
“You’ll be checking their books and reports.”
They walked toward the café, where a breakfast buffet was
being served. A server approached them with a smile. “Two?”
“Three. We’re meeting Larry Tan,” Dylan added.
The young woman turned toward a man in a black suit who
hurried up front. Dylan couldn’t help wondering if they’d
communicated by telepathy. Had she mouthed something
to him?
“Mr. Roche?” the man, with a name tag reading Jack, asked
with a smile.
Not until recently had he been called Mr. Roche. “Yes, we’re
meeting Larry Tan.”
“Yes, Mr. Tan called ahead. Please come with me.” He led
them to a table in a corner, in a section that was blocked off. He
handed them menus. “You’re welcome to have the buffet, or you
can order from the menu. Coffee? Tea?”
They both asked for coffee, and Jack departed. A few seconds
later, a server came with a pot of coffee and cups. Tommy
appeared eager to attack the buffet right away, but knew enough
to wait for Larry. The restaurant was similar to any other semicasual
dining establishment.
“All right, circling back to what we were talking about earlier,”
Tommy said. “Before we bounced, I checked out the
accounting and auditing files. Everything appears legit and on
point. No red flags popped up during the audits.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. But this is gonna be local stuff.
Agent Peters mentioned we should keep an eye out for any
sneaky payments or withdrawals stashed away in inconspicuous
accounts or files. Apparently, they tend to use some ghostthemed
symbols or references—you know, like those gangs with
their flashy colors,” Dylan replied.
Tommy furrowed his brow. “Listen, man, I may be a few
months older than you, but I’m still only twenty-five. Turning
twenty-six in a month. Why the hell would they think I have the
chops to pull this off? Wouldn’t they expect someone more
senior and experienced?”
“Probably, but you’re the only one I trust, bro. Plus, you’re
here representing my grandma. I highly doubt they’d question
that. If anything, throw in some jargon about the twisted tax
laws. Everyone knows those American tax codes are a maze.”
“But I’ve seen enough crime shows to know that whatever
evidence I find won’t hold up in court.”
“We ain’t going to court, man. Whatever you dig up, we’ll
pass it on to Agent Peters. It’ll give him more ammo to take
action. All I want is to expose those involved and clean house.”
“All right, I’ll do my best. Oh, and by the way, remember to
introduce me as Tom Rivers, not Tommy.”
They ordered drinks. Suddenly, Tommy bumped his friend’s
elbow and whispered, “Is that him by the door?”
Dylan glanced at the man. “I think so.”
“He’s staring at you and acting rather suspicious, if you ask
me.” He stood up. “Let me get the scoop.”
Dylan wanted to pull him back, but it was too late. Tommy
was already heading toward the door, ostensibly searching for
the restroom.
Minutes later, Tommy sat back down and whispered, his
voice barely audible, “I overheard him talking on the phone. It
was weird, man, ‘cause he was speaking English. I couldn’t
catch everything, but I heard him say something about being
unsure if he could do it. Then he said, ‘okay’ and mentioned
someone named Lily So.”
“Could be nothing, bro,” his friend replied casually.
“But wait, he also mentioned your name. He said you were
here, and that he had to be cautious not to raise any
suspicions.”
Curiosity consumed him. “Now he’s got my attention. I’m
gonna find out who this Lily is and what the hell they have to do
with anything.”
