Page 102 of Caution to the Wind

At first, I thought it was too tidy. That Kasper was just giving up the White Snake to justify his desire to crush the Red Dragons. But then I’d found out the White Snake’s real identity thanks to the Seven Song’s old asset, the infamous hacker Obsidian Swan.

His given name was Maxwell Dutton.

Armed with that knowledge, I’d found a connection between him and Kate by scouring through old Calgary PD records. Maxwell Dutton had done a stint in the clink for aggravated assault against a man who’d been charged with sexual assaulting Kate Kay. According to the report, he’d found Kate being cut up by the assaulter and beaten him nearly to death.

So why the hell would Maxwell Dutton have killed Kate if he’d beaten up a man who assaulted her?

Jealousy was one reason, and murders had been committed for less.

But why the ceremony of it? Why the distinctly Chinese bent of the murder? Death by Lingchi was an old-school punishment, and death by metal was one of the five ways to kill a triad oath-breaker, according to the “five thunderbolts.”

It was clear Maxwell Dutton had some in with the triads even back then. Otherwise, he would never have risen to the rank of Dragon Head as a white man, but I was missing some key piece of the puzzle. How did he get from point A to point B with a little layover to murder Kate on the journey?

Jiang had a theory that the White Snake had been trying to pin it on Seven Song, knowing about Kasper and Jiang’s connection to Kate through their real estate dealings.

I wasn’t so sure.

What I wanted was an opportunity to confront the White Snake, but that had proved nearly impossible.

I’d tried to break into their office building downtown, but the security was so tight, even Obsidian Swan hadn’t been able to get past the system without triggering an alarm.

Jiang had heard he was supposed to be dining at Mott 32, so we’d made reservations the same night, but he’d never shown up.

There were countless other attempts over the years to pinpoint the elusive leader of the Red Dragons, but I’d never come close. Kasper hadn’t even seen the man in over a decade, and he refused to meet with him even when the Kuan brothers reached out to negotiate new territories.

We’d reached a stalemate.

“That’s the other reason I’m here,” Jiang admitted. “Obsidian Swan was able to hack into the calendar of Red Dragon’s Incense Master. He is supposed to be travelling with the White Snake up to Whistler in two weeks. They leave from Vancouver Thursday at midnight.”

“If they’re on the move, it’s going to be hard to approach them, let alone identify them,” I argued, but a frisson of excitement sparked like a fuse trailing down my spine.

“You’ll figure it out,” he noted blandly, and despite myself, I felt warmth knowing he found me so competent.

There was, by the sheer nature of our agreement, a stone bridge of trust between us. I could get Jiang killed and vice versa. It felt good to be trusted by someone after so long, even if it was because we had no other option.

“You just want me to take out the White Snake so you and Kasper can swoop in and take over their territory,” I pointed out, turning to put the electric kettle on because Jiang and I liked to share a cup of green tea when we met.

“Well, two birds, one stone and all that,” he said with a sharp smile, pulling himself up to the headboard so he could lean there and cross his legs. He looked faintly ridiculous in his three-piece designer suit and Ferragamo loafers in such an ugly, pink motel room, but he seemed entirely unaffected by his surroundings. “If you wanted to take out Zeus Garro while you’re at it, you’d solve all my problems.”

“You know I’ll never touch The Fallen MC,” I said, trying to keep the sudden rage from my voice even though I couldn’t keep my lip from curling back over my teeth.

He raised both hands in surrender. “You’ve told me a few times, yes. You know, I met him today. Your Axe-Man could be a caricature of a biker.”

“And you could be a caricature of a Chinese gangster,” I noted, pouring the hot water through the strainer filled with puffed rice and green tea leaves. “It doesn’t make you any less dangerous. Did you try to make a deal with them like we discussed?”

“Did you really think they’d take it?”

“No, but it makes me feel better that you tried.” I carried the steaming mug over to Jiang and placed it on the table beside him before sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of him with my own cup. “I still think it’s suicide for the triad to go after the Red Dragons and The Fallen simultaneously.”

“It makes sense to Kasper, and you know he doesn’t listen to my advice.”

Since he’d discovered Jiang’s relationship with Eero eight years ago, Jiang was Vanguard in name only. Oh, he was invited to meetings with the inner sanctum––the Incense Master, Deputy Mountain Master, White Paper Fan, and Straw Sandal––but his input was not appreciated. He was given his directives and expected to follow them.

“I don’t know why you put up with it,” I said softly because it hurt me to see the way Jiang had diminished over the years, his spirit shrinking behind the dark lens of his gaze. “You could be so much more than what he allows you.”

“I don’t know why you pine for the blond Viking, but you persist in trying to pay penance for things that were not your doing. Do you see me judging you for it?”

“I put him in jail, Jiang,” I said tiredly, rubbing a hand over my face because we’d had this conversation so many times before.