Golden Lies Read online

Page 15


  He probably didn't care about her anymore, she told herself. He just asked about her out of politeness and friendship. He probably had a girlfriend. There was no reason not to see him. She needed answers, and he was in the position to give them. They'd have a simple conversation, and that would be it. Thankful she had a plan, she walked briskly down the street.

  * * *

  "She's leaving," Paige said, watching Alyssa from Riley's car. "Are we going to follow her again? I don't really see how this is accomplishing anything. We've seen her talk to an old man and go into an herb shop. What have we learned? Nothing."

  Riley ended the call he'd been making on his cell phone to his assistant. "The herb shop is owned by Alyssa's grandparents, An-Mei and Lee Chen. They've owned it for the past thirty-five years."

  "Your assistant got that information in the last five minutes?"

  "It's all a matter of public record."

  "I have a feeling everything is public where you're concerned."

  Riley laughed. "True. I believe the old man she was talking to in the square was her grandfather, Lee Chen."

  "So what now?"

  "I think you're looking a little stressed, Paige."

  "Thanks for pointing that out." She pulled down the sun visor and checked her face in the mirror. "I don't look that bad."

  "You look perfect, but maybe the herbalist won't notice, especially if you tell him or her how tired you are all the time, and how you need a pick-me-up."

  "And why can't you be the tired and pale person in need of an energizer?" she asked, realizing his intention.

  "Me? I'm the picture of health."

  Riley was the picture of a gorgeous male in the prime of life and didn't she know it. "Fine. But I draw the line at actually taking anything. You don't know what's in those Chinese herbs. They could be dangerous."

  "Or they could save your life. Chinese medicine has accomplished some amazing things. In fact, many of our modern medicines are based on herbs that first appeared almost two million years ago."

  Paige raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

  He laughed. "Sorry. I have one of those minds for trivia. Things come into my brain, and they don't leave."

  "And it doesn't get crowded in there?"

  "The human brain is quite a large organ—"

  "Please. I do not want to hear about the size of your organs," she said with a mischievous smile. She hadn't seen Riley in this lighthearted mood before. Everything had been so intense, so fast-paced, so filled with drama that they hadn't had much time to laugh, and she was enjoying it—probably more than she should be.

  He smiled back at her. "It doesn't have to be just talk."

  She shook her head. "Let's stay focused on the task at hand." She opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  "Okay, all kidding aside," Riley said, as they paused in front of the door. "You distract the clerk. Do whatever you have to do while I look around. My assistant told me the grandparents live upstairs over the shop. If I can get up there or in the back office, I will."

  "What are you looking for?"

  "I'll know when I find it."

  "This doesn't seem very efficient."

  "And Hathaways are always efficient?"

  "Always," she said with a nod. "If you don't find anything, you're buying me lunch."

  "Or you're buying me lunch. I have a craving for a lobster and steak combo at the fanciest restaurant in town."

  "What? Do you think I'm made of money?"

  "You said it; I didn't." He opened the door to the herb shop. "After you."

  Chapter Twelve

  Paige had no idea that do whatever you have to do would mean participating in an acupuncture demonstration. But when Riley had asked for a restroom, and the clerk had sent him toward the back room, she'd known she had to do something to keep the clerk busy until he returned.

  "Have you done this before?" she asked nervously, watching the woman, who had introduced herself as Ona, twirl a long needle between her fingers.

  "Lots of times. Now, tell me where the pain is."

  Paige had made up a headache on the spur of the moment, which was what had led to the acupuncture demonstration, but now the prophecy was actually coming true. Anxiety had brought a throbbing to her left temple. She pressed the point of pain with the tips of her fingers.

  Ona nodded. "That is an easy spot to fix. You'll feel better within a few moments."

  "You're not going to stick that thing in my head, are you?"

  "No. There are pressure points throughout the body that can relieve pain."

  Paige lost track of what Ona was saying as her mother's voice entered her head. Are you out of your mind, Paige? That needle could be unsanitary. You could be sticking yourself with a fatal disease. You don't let some woman in an herb shop in Chinatown stick a needle into you.

  "Um, maybe I don't want to do this," Paige said anxiously.

  "The needle is sterile. You saw me take it out of the package. And I've worn latex gloves the entire time, yes?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "It's perfectly safe. I promise you. Now give me your hand."

  Damn that Riley. Where the hell was he? Paige extended her hand, watching as Ona slowly inserted the needle into the back of her hand, the fleshy part between the thumb and first finger. There was a little pinch, but no real pain. Ona turned the needle back and forth, concentrating on her task. Paige was so tense she felt as if every muscle in her body was on red alert, ready to flee at any second.

  "Relax," Ona said softly.

  "I don't think—"

  "Close your eyes. Let your mind drift. Find a picture that pleases you."

  She closed her eyes and Riley's image came to her mind, unbidden and unwanted. His image did please her, but it did not make her feel relaxed. On the contrary, she felt her heart speed up and her palms dampen with sweat. Not that she was sweating because of him. Her nerves had more to do with the needle in her hand. Didn't they?

  She saw his laughing face in her mind, his sexy smile, the lazy grin, and she wanted to smile back at him, run away into the sunset, find a deserted sandy beach and a big soft blanket, and fall into Riley's arms.

  "Paige?"

  His voice was so clear. She could hear him calling out to her, see him raising his hand to beckon her forward.

  "Paige?"

  She started, realizing his voice was much too clear to be part of her dream. Her eyes flew open, and she looked into his astonished face.

  "What are you doing?" he asked.

  "I— uh, I had a headache."

  "And how is it now?" Ona asked, as she removed the needle from Paige's hand.

  "Oh, my goodness, it's gone." She wrinkled her brow, surprised that the tension had eased. Had the acupuncture done the trick, or was it due to the fact that Ona had removed the needle from her hand? Or maybe it was because Riley had returned, and she no longer had to cover for him. Whatever the reason, she felt a lot better.

  "I told you," Ona said. "Now what else can I do for you?"

  Paige looked at the array of herbs she'd already agreed to buy. "I think we have everything."

  "You bought out the store, honey." Riley put his arm around her. "I hope you have something to take away those headaches every night," he said suggestively. "Or maybe a little aphrodisiac that won't make you feel so tired around bedtime."

  Paige elbowed him in the gut, but Ona laughed. "Oh, we can take care of that, no problem. In fact, I have something for you, too," she said to Riley.

  "That's good," Paige said, "because you know your stamina isn't what it used to be, sweetie."

  Riley's jaw dropped. "My stamina is just fine."

  Paige exchanged a commiserating look with Ona but said out loud, "Of course it is."

  "Don't worry, we'll fix you right up," Ona said, reaching for some other herbs.

  "I don't need fixing. Thanks, anyway," Riley said quickly.

  "Now, dear, you know we agreed we'd keep an open mind," Pa
ige reminded him. "Just give us whatever you think, we need," she said to Ona. "Honey, why don't you give her your credit card, so we can pay up?"

  "You'll be paying up later," Riley said in hushed annoyance as he handed Ona his credit card.

  Paige simply smiled. Hey, she'd had a needle stuck into her hand. The least he could do was pay for the herbs. She wondered if he'd found anything on his search through the back room.

  "Thank you. Come again." Ona handed Riley his purchase, then said to Paige, "If your headache comes back, you can always massage and put pressure on the point in your hand where we did the acupuncture. Sometimes that works, too."

  Paige nodded and followed Riley out onto the sidewalk. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

  "In the car," he muttered.

  She got into the car and shut the door. "Did you find anything? Or did I just get myself stuck for no good reason?"

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was a newspaper article written in Chinese characters. She had no idea what the article said, but she recognized the picture of the dragon that accompanied the piece. "That's our dragon," she breathed.

  "The photograph could have been taken from the antiques show," Riley said. "I know there were photographers there as well as the television cameras. Or it might have come from somewhere else."

  "How do we find out?"

  "I think we should pay a visit to the Chinese Daily News." He pointed to the byline. "Benjamin Fong should be able to tell us where this photograph came from and what else he knows about this dragon." He started the car engine. "By the way, you owe me lunch."

  * * *

  Alyssa could see Ben through the plate-glass window that separated the small lobby of the Chinese Daily News from the ten or so cubicles that made up the newsroom. Ben had a computer at his elbow but was writing on a yellow pad of paper, his fingers painstakingly precise, his attention focused on the task at hand. It reminded her of when they'd both taken calligraphy lessons from his uncle Guy. Ben had loved calligraphy, putting ink to paper, detailing the Chinese characters with absolute perfection.

  She had been too impatient to take such time. But not Ben; he loved tradition and history. He was a twenty-four-year-old dinosaur in the twenty-first century. Which was why she was here. If anyone could tell her where to start her search for an ancient dragon, it was probably him.

  "Can I help you?" the receptionist asked as she entered the lobby from a back room.

  "I'd like to speak to Benjamin Fong."

  "May I tell him your name?"

  "Alyssa Chen."

  Alyssa watched Ben through the glass as the receptionist made the call. He looked up as soon as he heard her name, his gaze meeting hers. He was surprised she had come. Why wouldn't he be? She'd cut the ties to their friendship a long time ago. "

  You can go on back," the receptionist said.

  Ben waved to her, but now that she had the okay, she was hesitant to take it. What on earth would she say to him? She saw him get to his feet and realized she hadn't moved an inch. The last thing she wanted was to have this conversation in front of the receptionist, who was already giving her a curious look. Forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, she walked down the hall, meeting Ben halfway.

  "Hi," she said, offering him a tight smile. She'd never been a warm, affectionate person, and she didn't think she could start now.

  "Alyssa. It's good to see you." Ben's eyes were truly welcoming, and she relaxed a bit.

  "How have you been?"

  "Great. Busy. What are you doing here?"

  "I need some help, and I thought you might be the right person to ask. It's not personal," she said hurriedly, then wished she hadn't added the disclaimer as his smile dimmed.

  "Business, of course. Come on back." He walked toward his cubicle and waved her toward a chair by the desk. "Have a seat."

  "Thanks." She sat down, holding her purse on her lap.

  "What's up?"

  "My mother saw a statue that she thinks might be really old, maybe valuable, and I thought you might be able to tell me about it. You always seemed to know so much about Chinese art"

  He shrugged somewhat modestly. "I know a little. What does the statue look like?"

  "It's a dragon with a serpent-like body, about ten to twelve inches tall. The eyes are jade. There's a gold strip around the neck. It probably sounds like a million other statues."

  Ben's eyes darted to the newspaper on his desk. He reached for it and handed it to her. "Does it look like this?"

  "Oh, my God! That's it exactly." The dragon in the photograph resembled the painting on her mother's wall, which her mother said was a perfect match to the statue David Hathaway had brought to show her. "Why do you have this picture in the paper?"

  "That statue was discovered on the television show Antiques on the Road. It's believed to date back to the Zhou dynasty. You can read the article, unless you've forgotten how to read Chinese characters."

  She frowned at his reminder that she had not always embraced her culture. "Does it say anything more than what you just told me?"

  "Not much."

  "Do you know more about the history of the dragon?"

  "There are several theories. Unfortunately, no one has gotten a good look at it. The owner took it to the House of Hathaway to have it appraised. Since David Hathaway was assaulted a few days ago, no one has been able to get any information on the statue."

  Alyssa nodded, her body tensing at the mention of her father's name. She had no intention of sharing that information with Ben. As long as she and her mother didn't speak of it, no one else would know. She doubted anyone in the Hathaway family would rush to tell the press about a long-lost illegitimate daughter. Unless, of course, as Paige had suggested, the disappearance of the dragon drew a connecting line between David and Jasmine. That's what she had to prevent from happening.

  "Does anyone have any idea who might be responsible for assaulting Mr. Hathaway?" she asked.

  "Not the usual suspects, from what I've heard."

  "What does that mean?"

  "That someone with experience and knowledge of ancient art was behind the theft. That it was more than likely David Hathaway was mugged because he had the statue with him and not just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

  "You said there are several theories about the dragon," she continued.

  "There are, but I have a meeting in a few minutes. Perhaps we could do dinner."

  She didn't like the wicked sparkle in his eyes and knew getting involved with him again was probably a bad idea, but she needed his help. "Where do you want to go?"

  "I'll cook for you."

  "You'll cook for me?" she echoed in astonishment.

  "Yes, and trust me you won't starve. I'm a very good cook." He jotted down an address.

  She saw the street names and realized he hadn't gone far. "Chinatown, Ben?"

  "Is that a problem?"

  "No, of course not."

  "Good." He got up and walked her out to the lobby area. "Is seven o'clock good for you?"

  Before she could answer, the outer office door opened. To Alyssa's surprise, Paige and Riley walked into the lobby. They stopped abruptly when they saw her.

  "Alyssa?" Paige questioned, her gaze narrowing suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

  "I could ask you the same thing," she retorted.

  "We'd like to speak to Benjamin Fong," Paige said, giving Ben a questioning look.

  "That would be me," Ben replied. "You're Paige Hathaway, aren't you?"

  "Yes, and this is Riley McAllister. We'd like to speak to you about the article you wrote regarding the dragon belonging to Mr. McAllister."

  "It seems that many people are interested in that story. Do you all know each other?" Ben asked, his gaze moving back to Alyssa.

  "We've met," Alyssa said shortly. "They spoke to my mother earlier. You know she has sold several of her paintings to the House of Hathaway."

 
"What do you want to know?" Ben asked.

  "Paige and I have read about a legend involving two dragons, a box, and a flute," Riley said. "Have you heard of such a thing?"

  Alyssa started. This was the first she'd heard that there might be two dragons. Or a box. Or a flute for that matter. She glanced over at Ben and saw a spark of excitement flash in his black eyes.

  "I know the story," Ben replied. "It is believed that an emperor had the box and dragons made out of bronze to protect a flute that his daughter, the first daughter of his second wife, found in the woods. When the daughter played the flute for her father, his violent headaches would ease. He was so happy that he treated the daughter like a princess and her mother like a queen. The first wife, however, did not like the change in status. She had a son who was meant to be emperor, but now there was talk of this girl becoming an empress. In a fit of rage, she stole the dragons and the box. With the flute gone, the father's headaches returned. In a violent frenzy, he had his daughter killed for losing the flute and swore a curse on all first daughters of anyone who should touch the dragons or the box or the precious flute."

  "That's very similar to the story we read," Paige said. "Do you know if the pieces ever resurfaced since the origin of the legend and the curse?"

  "I believe there have been several sightings of the pieces, whether as a unit or individually I'm not sure. However, the age of the bronze alone would make it of great value today. Of course, if all three pieces of the unit were together, it would be even more valuable. Where did your grandmother get her dragon, Mr. McAllister?"

  "She has no idea, unfortunately. She found it in the attic."

  "Too bad. It would be easier to trace." Ben paused. "If there was a curse on the dragon, it might have affected your grandmother."

  "I don't believe in curses," Riley said sharply.

  "You might want to rethink that," Ben said. "To not understand the power of the past is to be a fool."

  "Is that a Chinese saying?" Riley asked.

  "No, it's good advice." Ben checked his watch. "I'm afraid I have a meeting."

  "Thank you for your time," Paige said. "If you think of anything else, please call me." She took out a business card and handed it to Ben.

 

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