As the months went by they had escorted Masuyo on many trips into the heart of the city, mostly shopping and dining and some sightseeing. The woman seemed to absorb every detail of what she was seeing, and then she would glance at Nash and seem to perform the same deeply penetrating appraisal that her daughter performed so effortlessly.
She would order them around with terse commands, and then when they returned home she would dismiss them with a curt, imperious wave of her hand.
The queen really has come home to roost, Nash had thought.Well, the other queen.
He had also been summoned by the woman for various tasks while she had been in her office with a computer in front of her and stacks of files on either side of her. She was apparently scrutinizing every aspect of her daughter’s business empire.
And now maybeherempire once more, Nash had also speculated.
He had seen little of Steers lately. At certain times some of her protection detail was gone, so he assumed the woman was traveling. They had been given phones, but Nash knew they would be closely monitored, so he could do nothing personally with his. And he could not buy a burner phone without it showing up on the credit card statement, since it was a card provided to him by Steers.
He could access the accounts where he had parked the monies provided to him by the FBI, and use that to buy a phone. But then there was the problem of hiding it somewhere that it could not be discovered, but where he would still have access. He was still thinking that one through.
During one of these excursions, while Thura had visited a cigar shop, Nashhadtaken a risk and finally managed to find, after much effort, a public pay phone. He had used it to call Agent Morris, but it had gone to voicemail. He had left a detailed message telling the agent everything that had happened, including the murder of Lynn Ryder and more details of what had transpired in Myanmar and their supporting role in Masuyo’s escape from the mysterious prison. When Nash had put down the receiver he had looked around and hoped that he had not been seen.
But if he took no risks at all, Nash knew he would accomplish nothing.
He was sure that at some point Masuyo would want him to do something that went against Steers’s interest. And Steers might, at any time, demand information about her mother’s actions. If he refused to answer or, worse yet, lied? And she found out? But if he did tell the truth, would Steers see that as a betrayal to her mother?
Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
Since he knew it would seem normal to Steers, on his phone he had constantly scrolled the American business news and had learned that the board of Sybaritic, meaning Rhett Temple, had appointed a woman named Neisha Mirza to be the CEO of the company. And Elaine Fixx had once more taken over Nash’s old job. He’d wondered if Agent Morris had followed up on his suggestion to try to recruit Fixx to their effort.
One day Nash was instructed through an email that Masuyo wanted to go out. Nash was also told that accompanying her would be her daughter’s former nanny, Hiroko, whom Nash had never heard anyone mention before. And another thing that was different: The email had come from Steers, not her mother.
He had Thura get things prepped after they received the travel itinerary. It was only shopping, and then afternoon tea at an upscale café that they had taken Masuyo to many times previously.
Nash received another email from Steers asking him to retrieve Hiroko and bring her to Masuyo’s suite.
He knocked on the apartment door that was situated on a lower floor, and instantly heard the sounds of shuffling feet. The door opened and an elderly Asian woman appeared there. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall and a hundred pounds. She wore a dark jacket and slacks with a creamy blouse, and her white hair was cut in straight lines across her forehead and down the sides. Her powdered face was heavily lined; her smile at the sight of Nash seemed genuine.
“Mr. Hope, it is so nice to finally meet you. Please come inside and wait for a moment while I finish my preparations for our journey today.”
Nash stepped inside, smiling at the formal language used by the woman. They weren’tjourneying, really, just taking a drive barely twenty minutes away.
“Yes, ma’am. Take your time. There’s no rush.”
She scuttled away, saying, “I haven’t been out in ages. So much fun. Tea, I understand?”
“Yes, with Mrs. Steers.”
Hiroko abruptly stopped and turned. “Mrs.Steers? Not. . .not Victoria-san?”
Now Nash was unsure. “No, um, what were you told, ma’am?”
“I was told nothing other than shopping and tea, I thought with Victoria-san. I know she is so very busy but she comes to visit me quite often. And we have the most wonderful talks about. . .the old times.”
“Um, well . . .”
Nash whirled around when the voice said, “You will be going shopping and having tea with my mother, Hiroko-san.”
Steers stood in the doorway dressed, as usual, all in black except for a pair of white lace-up shoes. She barely glanced at Nash.
Hiroko looked surprised. “Your mother? Your mother is. . .here? You. . .you never mentioned . . .”
To Nash, the elderly woman did not seem very happy about this development.
“Yes, I’m sorry that I did not tell you. She has come home. I want you to see her. To spend time with her.”
