Chapter 106

The conversation at the dinner table passed by like a thousand dinner conversations in the past. From Raymond, it was all business: discussions with the Texan about the greater Dallas area, questions about the local movers and shakers, and speculation about what the company could do here in the future. Elizabeth paid no attention to her husband’s shop talk; she did not, in fact, even bother to pretend to pay attention. She focused intently on her wine, steadily diminishing the contents of her bottle of red at an impressive – albeit, not so impressive as to be worrying – rate.

Akumi and Barrett comprised the only two differences in this particular dinner table chat. Barrett kept himself on the outside of the conversation between the Texan and my father; close enough to comment occasionally, but far enough away that neither party was surprised when he lapsed into silence. He seemed more focused on reading their body language than in anything they were talking about. And Akumi sat to my right like a statue. She only spoke when absolutely necessary, hardly ever moved a muscle except to take a drink of her whiskey, and generally exuded an aura of absolute self-control.

I found it that particular point interesting. She was in the same line of work as Mila, but I could only remember a few times when Mila had ever given off a similar feeling. For the most part, she just seemed disinterested in developing events. When violence was imminent, she grew noticeably excited but, even then, there wasn’t the sensation of control. With Mila, I was always vaguely concerned that she might be more likely to use her fists to solve a problem when words would have done. With Akumi, though, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was only calm because she kept her own violent tendencies tightly leashed. If that was a good thing or not, I couldn’t quite say.

Instead of paying active attention to the table talk, I just went through the motions. I nodded when appropriate; smiled politely at the Texan’s slightly off-color jokes; and patted Barrett’s hand at regular intervals, lest my parents think my fake relationship wasn’t intimate enough. That only took the smallest fraction of my mental processing power, though. I’d long since learned how to act like an heiress while thinking of other things, and I took advantage of those hard-won lessons now.

We’d theorized that the kidnappers had taken the Texan from the dock house. I knew now, conclusively, that we’d been wrong on that front. According to Akumi, though, they had grabbed Kira, so we’d been wrong due to our lack of information. An understandable mistake. Did that mean we had to throw out the entire model, though? Or could it simply be fine-tuned to account for this new wrinkle?

There had been a kidnapping, in the midst of all that bloodshed. Some party had assaulted the dock with overwhelming force of arms, killed every man working inside except for Kira, and then taken the male Twin away with them for an as-yet unknown reason. Akumi might know more about the situation than she’d already told me; she might, in fact, know more than she even realized. But I didn’t think that she’d be able to pick the guilty party out of a line up or anything. We’d still have to put together the myriad puzzle pieces on our own.

I paused, rewound my thoughts, and picked out one inconsistency after only a second’s consideration. The dock had been filled with workers. Kira had been dragged away from inside the building. But could the kidnappers have known, for sure, that he was inside at that exact moment? Even if they had, why would they risk killing Kira by pouring ammunition through the walls when it would have been incredibly easy for him to stand up or step to the side at the worst possible moment?

Another question went onto my growing list. Had the kidnappers arrived to take anyone in particular at all or had they just grabbed someone at random? If it was the former, then they’d taken an insane risk with their attack strategy. They hadn’t gotten the Texan or Max. The only person they managed to get away with was a new employee, so to speak. If it was the latter, then…why grab anyone at all?

No sooner had that question popped into my mind then an answer presented itself: ransom. It should have occurred to me as a possibility earlier, considering my upbringing, but I’d been so focused on blaming the Twins that it simply hadn’t occurred to me. I just needed to check some things before I really committed to that line of thinking.

“Excuse me,” I said. My father, one finger raised as if to make a point, paused before speaking. Every one at the table, Elizabeth excluded, turned to look at me. I swallowed nervously, translated what I needed to say into appropriate small talk, and turned to the Texan. “You said that you’re from here, Mister Legree?”

He shrugged. “Here and there,” he said. “I’m not particularly bound to any one city in Texas. I’m more of a statewide personality. Got homes all over the Lone Star, if that makes any sense.”

Translation: No, you’re not going to find out where I’m from. Nice try, though.

I didn’t need to know where he was born, though, just like I didn’t need to know his real name. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who’s good with computers in the area, would you?” I asked. “I had some difficulties with my personal laptop – spyware, keylogging, that kind of thing – and I was just wondering if you knew anyone talented who might be able to help.”

The Texan’s eyes widened slightly. “How, uh…how long you been struggling with that issue?”

“A couple of days,” I said. “It’s not a huge issue, honestly. Really, it’s more irritating than anything else.”

The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “I had something like that myself,” he said. “A while back.”

“How’d you get rid of it?”

“I didn’t,” he said and shrugged. “But I did learn to live with it.”

I sighed, a bit more dramatically than necessary. I wasn’t exactly lying. Max was irritating and I would have to check everything she’d touched to make sure there weren’t any listening devices. “I’d rather not have to work around this kind of thing, long-term.”

“Tell you what,” the Texan said. “Give me a call when you’re back with the computer. I’ll see if I can’t talk you through it.”

“Works for me.”

He tried to hide his ensuing sigh of relief, but I was looking specifically for it. The Texan hadn’t known that Max was still in town. Unless he was an incredible liar – a strong possibility, and one I couldn’t discount until I got the Texan and Devlin into a room together – I could take that as an indication that he wasn’t involved in the kidnapping at all and that he hadn’t been in touch with her since the massacre.

“I didn’t know you were interested in computers,” Elizabeth said. “When did that start?”

“Oh, uh…college?” I offered weakly. “It’s really just a passing thing. Programming is the language of the future and all that.”

Elizabeth looked at me over the lip of her wine glass, shrugged, and returned to the task of finishing the bottle. “If you say so,” she said between mouthfuls. “I’ve never been able to make sense of them.”

“So, Mister Legree…?”

“Benjamin,” the Texan said. “Ben, really. A name with that many syllables is just exhausting.”

“Ben,” I said, “now that I’ve got your attention, I had a few more questions about Dallas. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” he said. “Ask away.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” I said. Translation: How am I supposed to ask you questions about the dock massacre if I can’t say anything that might tip off my parents?

“You were curious about the people, no?” Akumi asked.

The people? What was she…

“That’s kind of a complicated question,” the Texan said. “We got all types here. Big spenders, like the one your father’s interested in, but also a lot of local folk that prefer to keep all their money under their mattress. The kind that don’t trust banks, if you catch my drift.”

Oh. Thus far, we still hadn’t been able to get any sort of information about the structure of the local underworld. The Texan was a part of it, but he existed on the outskirts of those people, by design. Still, he might be able to provide us with a list of suspects. If those weren’t the culprits, we could work forward from there.

“What kind of a person would do that?” I asked. It wasn’t the most elegant wording, but I couldn’t think of anything better on the spot.

The Texan spent the next ten minutes describing a group of people in the area who might have been responsible for the kidnapping, in a series of anecdotes and nominally funny stories. There was Phil Elliot, a construction baron who moonlighted in hiring out muscle for various illegal jobs; Matthew Matheson, a defense attorney who’d collected a lot of favors by not being picky about exactly who he defended; a particularly enigmatic CPA, with no consistent name, with his fingers deep inside the various gambling dens and betting rackets; and a host of others. Even as I listened, I marveled at the complexity of the Dallas underworld, with its checks and balances. It seemed like a game, wherein one party’s fortunes would be on the rise until someone else managed to bring them back down to earth. It was useful information to have, in that it allowed me to get a better grasp of the power currents taking place in the shadows.

But games have rules. And whoever had assaulted the dock house and kidnapped Kira hadn’t been playing by the rules. I’d have to check with the rest of the team to be absolutely certain, but I was ready to bet money by the end of the Texan’s list: the guilty party wasn’t local to the area. Another thing we’d been right about, even if we’d reached that conclusion by being wrong about other things first.

My theory became far more plausible. Only an outside party could hope to sweep into a city as regimented as Dallas, attack a local fixture, and then get away with the ransom without bringing down the wrath of the entire underworld on his or her head. The main question now, then, was a matter of intention: what ransom did the kidnappers want?

The Texan turned to Raymond. “What are your thoughts on expanding internationally?”

Raymond waved the question away. “We’ve discussed it internally, but it’s never been a serious possibility. Speaking honestly, we lack the infrastructure to implement that sort of thing. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been looking to diversify,” the Texan said, “and doing a lot of my own research into what goes into that type of business. Obviously, it takes a strong CEO to keep everyone on the same page when they’re in one country. But expanding overseas? That’s the kind of thing that requires…two, maybe even three, people to keep everything running smoothly?”

I just barely kept myself from jerking upright in my seat. He wasn’t talking to my father; he was talking to me. And he was talking about the Magi. Max had told us that he’d been looking into the strange events of the last six months. He must have gotten farther than even she realized. And, since he’d reached that point without the assistance of the Lady, that meant he knew different things than we did. Probably more things, hidden within the servers and files the kidnappers had taken.

That would make one hell of a ransom.

Except it still didn’t explain why they’d taken Kira. He didn’t know anything. The Twins had come to Mila for help, specifically because the machinations of the Magi had been so far above their heads as to seem otherworldly. There was still more going on. I didn’t know what it could be or even how to go about finding the right questions, but I was certain of that much.

Raymond let out one of his patented deep belly chuckles. “I’m a perfectionist,” he said. “The idea of letting someone else control any aspect of my family’s company is a non-starter, right on its face.”

“There’s no one you trust to handle that kind of decision making on your behalf?”

“My children aren’t interested, each for their own reasons,” Raymond said. He didn’t look at me as he spoke, as if that would somehow disguise who he was talking about. “So, no, I don’t think I’d be able to just let that responsibility go free.”

“You could hire a headhunter,” Barrett suggested. “I’ve known a few who were very good at finding whatever qualifications you’re looking for.”

My blood went cold. With that sentence, I could see the silhouette of the kidnappers’ plan. There were still details I didn’t know – probably that I would never know – but those were irrelevant in the grand scheme. When the Texan realized that he’d stumbled upon information too dangerous, he’d hired the Twins to protect him. So, instead of attacking two bodyguards of Mila’s caliber directly, the kidnappers had waited patiently for the Twins to separate. Then, they’d taken Kira. Not to force the Texan’s hand; they’d done it to force Akumi’s.

What would she do to rescue her twin brother? Would she break a contract? Or worse: would she actively go rogue? She was with the Texan all of the time, now, as a consequence of their deal. If someone wanted her to bring him in, no one would be able to stop her. Even if I asked Mila to join the Texan’s detail, that might not be enough. Mila would be fighting to fulfill her contract, but she had no particular loyalty to the Texan; Akumi would be fighting to save her only family.

God, I couldn’t imagine how bad that would get.

We finished the steaks and were waiting for desserts when my phone vibrated in my purse. Barrett and the Texan were discussing the artistic merits of Harry Winston while Raymond attempted, unsuccessfully, to dissuade Elizabeth from her second bottle of wine. Akumi was looking at her own phone, so I didn’t feel guilty or rude when I fished my latest burner from my bag and checked the screen.

The message was from an unlisted number. I read through it anyway, because there were a lot of people in my life now who preferred that anonymity.

 

Unknown Number: They’re making demands. RIGHT NOW.

 

I blinked at the message, re-read it, and then typed out a quick response.

 

Who’s making demands? Of who? For what? And who is this?

 

The response came so quickly that the sender must have been working on it before I’d typed anything.

 

Unknown Number: This is Max. I bugged you and the new hires. Someone’s talking to her.

 

The fact that Max had bugged my phone came as much less of a surprise than it probably should. I’d already resolved to check everything for that specific reason, and she was just playing to type. When we had time, I could deal with her complete failure to understand boundaries. Right now, the content of the text was far more important.

 

You knew about Akumi?

Unknown number: Not until you did. That’s not the point. SHE’S TALKING TO THEM.

 

I glanced to one side, so that I could watch Akumi in my peripheral vision. Sure enough, she was fixated on the phone in her hands. She read through something on the screen and typed out a response so quickly that I was surprised the screen didn’t break.

 

You hacked her phone?

Unknown number: Of course, I hacked her phone.

What’s she saying?

 

Max didn’t respond for a few seconds. The wait was just long enough for me to overanalyze every twitch in Akumi’s flat expression. When the text came through, it was a series of images. I swiped through them at near-panic speed.

 

Anonymous: We have your brother. We’ll return him if you do what we ask.

Akumi: What do you want?

Anonymous: What we’ve always wanted. Information.

Akumi: I don’t know anything.

Anonymous: We don’t want what you know. We want what he knows.

Akumi: ???

Anonymous: Your client. Anyone who’s spoken to him about anything overseas. Bring them to us and we’ll release your brother.

 

I swallowed nervously. I started to type out a message to Max, but paused when I saw Akumi type out a short message into her phone. An instant later, that same message was delivered to me via Max’s unlisted number.

 

Akumi: When and where?