“Sure. What’s up, buttercup?” she asked.
“Mal and Nico are here with me and we’re trying to track down some real estate,” Jericho explained.
There was the sound of covers rustling and a groggy voice mumbling something. They heard Calliope say, “It’s nothing, baby. Sleep.” She could only have been talking to Lola. They listened as she walked through the house, then to her chair squeaking and a computer powering up. “Hit me. Whatcha got?”
“Does Jason Zhao own property outside of the condo he lives in?” Jericho asked.
“Or Frankie,” Nico called. When Jericho frowned, he continued, “Jason has a tendency to throw Frankie under the bus. It stands to reason, he’d use his brother’s name to buy something if he planned to use it in a crime.”
“Good thinking,” Jericho said.
They listened to Calliope hum as she typed away. “Mmmm…negative. They don’t even own the places they’re currently residing in. They don’t have any assets here in the States.”
“No cars, no nothing?” Nico asked.
“Everything is owned by a holding company,” Calliope explained. “Crimson Petal Investments.”
Mal snorted a laugh. When Jericho’s brow furrowed, Mal said, “Crimson Petal? Red Lotus? Clearly, they’re using the gang’s assets while they’re here.”
“Why would a gang buy up property in the U.S.?” Nico asked.
“Lots of reasons,” Calliope answered. “Status, investment properties, trying to get permanent residency. It’s not unusual for Chinese companies to buy here.”
“But why would the Red Lotus Clan in particular do it?” Nico asked.
Jericho shrugged. “Money laundering, legitimacy. Take your pick.”
“If their houses and cars are all owned by this Crimson company, it stands to reason that any place Jason might use as his version of a murder cabin is also owned by them, no?” Mal asked.
“It appears that way,” Calliope agreed. “But they own over forty properties just in this city alone. So, we’re going to need to narrow it down.”
“Can you just track his phone, maybe?” Mal asked suddenly. “If he’s holding Amy hostage somewhere, he’d have to go see her often enough to bring her food and make sure she’s still where he put her, right? Is there any place he goes repeatedly that’s isolated enough for whatever shit he’s doing?”
“Oh, good idea,” Calliope said. “Uh…the only addresses he frequents often are his condo, the restaurant you visited today, and the market, of course. He probably has a burner phone he takes with him when he’s visiting her. He’s a monster but, obviously, he’s not stupid.”
“Fuck. So, now what?” Mal asked, rubbing his hands over his face.
Nico’s leg began to bounce at the strain in Mal’s voice. Was he thinking the same things Nico was? Was Amy okay? Was she scared? Cold? Hungry? Hurt? Was she now fighting for her life because they’d poked at Jason without knowing the whole story?
Mal would be devastated if he had to tell Casey her mother was dead. He might not feel things for strangers, but when it came to those he cared about, Mal was fiercely protective.
Fuck. He couldn’t worry about what ifs.
They were going to figure this out.
Tonight.
Now.
“Jason doesn’t seem like the wilderness type,” Nico said. “If Jason’s at that restaurant all the time, it probably doubles as a sweatshop. If that’s the case, then he’s pretty hands on. He won’t want to venture far.”
Mal looked at the phone. “It will probably be some place freestanding.”
“That narrows it down some, but I need more,” Calliope said.
“It will most likely be residential, not commercial,” Jericho added.
Mal frowned. “Why do you say that?”
