Dirty Secret (25 page)

I’d thought I’d reached the bottom of her loathing barrel, but apparently I was wrong. She put a dose of venom on Seong’s name that could have stopped a herd of elephants.

“Okay, but what does Choi Yong-Kun have to do with this now?” I asked. “Has he threatened him in some way? Demanded money to keep quiet?”

“He has disappeared,” she responded curtly. “Along with Li Mun-Hee. Both of them… gone.”

“So it was a plot to sabotage Shin-Cho’s reputation?” My notes were beginning to look like a Venn diagram explosion. “Did they purposely set things up so Shin-Cho would be compromised, and then ask for money?”

Compromised. Like he was a heroine from one of the old romance novels from the fifties.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past Li Mun-Hee,” Ryeowon sniffed. “He came looking for Shin-Cho.
To our house
. As if he had a claim to my son. My brother chased him off and told him never to come back.”

“Did your brother tell him Shin-Cho was in LA?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t listening,” she admitted. “I was upset. David was getting married, and the Kwon family already was wary of the match because of Dae-Hoon. Shin-Cho’s behavior nearly broke the engagement. We agreed that Shin-Cho would not be there, for appearance’s sake, but David refused to honor the agreement between our families. It was very unsettling.”

“How did Helena feel about Shin-Cho’s involvement in the wedding?”

Ryeowon looked at me like I’d grabbed her for a romp on the coffee table. “What would she say? It was David’s decision.”

Not sure if she meant it as a
the wife has no say over the husband’s declarations
thing, or if it didn’t concern Helena because it wasn’t her family’s issue. Either way, I was already treading on thin ice with Ryeowon. I’d pushed her buttons as little as possible, but it was obvious we didn’t agree about Shin-Cho’s miraculous healing from being gay ever happening. I wasn’t going to throw kerosene on the fire by bringing women’s rights into the mix.

“How did you find out they, Choi and Li, were missing?” I couldn’t imagine a suicide pact, especially not one involving Shin-Cho. For one thing, Choi was the one who outed the other two. Unless they’d set it up to extort money from the Seongs, he’d gained nothing. If anything, he ended up paying the price for pissing off a pretty powerful family.

“The police came to our house. One of them knew of Shin-Cho’s… relationship with Mun-Hee. A neighbor heard a loud fight at Mun-Hee’s apartment and called the authorities. When no one came to the door, the police went in and found blood on the floor,” Ryeowon replied. “Choi Yoon-Kun’s brother said he’d gone to confront Mun-Hee over something. When the police went to Yoon-Kun’s home, he wasn’t there, and it looked as if he’d packed to leave.”

“Did you tell the American cops this?” I sat back, exhaling hard. “Has someone checked to see if Yoon-Kun’s left South Korea? Did he have a passport?”

“I don’t know. There are ways for people to leave without being tracked. He could have done it,” she admitted slowly. “I didn’t think Yoon-Kun would come here to hurt Shin-Cho. He is the one who failed Shin-Cho, not the other way around.”

I wasn’t sure how to handle the conflict inside of me. There was no religious fervor or gleam in her eyes. Seong Ryeowon truly believed her son could be cured of his homosexuality and that she’d failed him by allowing him to continue to think fondly of his father. I wanted to hate Ryeowon, or pity her.

I just didn’t know how.

“Okay, let me see if we can’t track down someone who can check on Yoon-Kun,” I said. “But you should talk to the police. There’s a Detective Wong on the case. He’s probably a good place to start.”

“Wong?” She sounded thoughtful. “He is Chinese?”

“Yeah.” Jae’d told me a lot of Koreans had issues with the Japanese, for one reason or another. I wasn’t sure how they felt about their neighbors from China. “Does that matter?”

“No, no, that is fine.” She dismissed my caution with a wave of her hand. Ryeowon stood, then paused at the meeting room door. “May I ask you one thing, Mr. McGinnis?”

“Sure,” I replied, picking up my notes and pen.

“You are gay, yes? Like Min-Ho?”

No
hyung
for her older brother, that was certain. I nodded. “Yes.”

“Does your mother know?” Ryeowon’s concern was visible, either sympathy for me or a woman she imagined was going through the same emotions she’d been through.

“No,” I said softly. “She died when I was born.”

“Ah.” Her smile was wide, brightening up her face. It chased the years away, even softening the dark circles under her eyes she’d hidden with a thick layer of makeup. “That’s good, then. She never knew you were like this. I am so glad for her. So much better for her. Have a good day, Mr. McGinnis, and thank you again.”

Chapter Seventeen

“
S
HIT
, that’s a cold woman,” Bobby swore under his breath to Seong Ryeowon’s back as she left.

We abandoned the porch for the office when a swarm of gnats decided our mouths looked like glory holes in need of business. Jae’d shown up a few minutes later with a few orders of carne asada fries and spicy carrots. Bobby took them off his hands as soon as he walked through the door, kissing Jae on the cheek in thanks. He was insulted when Jae recoiled in horror.

“Yeah, he only likes men, Bobby,” I teased. My supposed best friend flipped me off and took a bag out of Jae’s hands.

“Mmmmm. Mexican.” Bobby ignored me in favor of opening the Styrofoam container and inhaling the intoxicating scent of charbroiled meat, cheese, and fries. “It’s good to have a Korean boyfriend. They bring take-out.”

“You don’t have one now,” Jae muttered. “Cole does, but I don’t mind feeding you too. It’s like he owns a dog I pick up hamburgers for.”

“And Cole is happy about his Korean boyfriend. Be nice to Bobby. He’s had a mouthful of gnat and spent the afternoon watching hippies commune with their extra-virgin spring water tea.” I tugged on the hem of his T-shirt. Jae leaned over and gave me a kiss, then stepped back to unpack the food.

Perched up on the edge of my desk, he handed me a laden container, opened his food, and promptly poured Sriracha over his fries. My guts winced in sympathy. His probably snickered at me, mocking my tender intestines. He offered me the bottle, and I must have given him the same look he’d given Bobby, because he laughed hard enough to need a drink of water. Patting him on the back, I told them about my meeting with Ryeowon.

“Wow.” Bobby whistled in disbelief when I got to the part about my mother. “That’s… some kind of fucked up.”

“We would think so,” I said. “But, for her… for their family, I think she’s doing more than most. Sounds like she pulled some strings to keep Shin-Cho under the Seong umbrella.”

“He’s not going to go off and get married, pop out kids, and forget about being gay.” Bobby shoveled a fry into his mouth. “She should accept that and move on.”

“Why not?” Jae cocked his head at Bobby. “
Hyung
did. Others do. He’s her oldest son. She wants him to have… she wants him to continue the family.”

“He’s a Park,” I pointed out. “They don’t have something to say about it?”

“No, they lost the family connection to Shin-Cho and David after Dae-Hoon.” Picking at the carrots, Jae found a red pepper and bit into it. I made a mental note to kiss him only after he’d rinsed out his mouth. “The scandal was too much. Luckily, it happened here, so they could—”

“Cover it up?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes,” Jae agreed. He was matter-of-fact. I’d gone down this road with him before, but Bobby was new to the journey, and probably wouldn’t like where it was going to leave him. “The Seongs are more powerful than the Parks. It makes sense for Ryeowon to align her sons with the Seongs. It offers them more protection, especially after Shin-Cho was caught with that other man. The
chaebol
take care of their own.”

“I can’t believe I’m sitting here listening to you excuse this shit.” He pushed his fries across Claudia’s desk in disgust. “You’re gay. Tell me this doesn’t piss you off!”

“What is supposed to piss me off? Being gay is different when you’re Korean,” Jae replied calmly. “It
is
different. Do I wish I could love a man and still have my family? Yes, but I can’t. Not until my sisters are out of the house, and my mother can be taken care of. When I tell her, I won’t have a family left. Shin-Cho is lucky. His mother is forcing the family to provide for him. She loves him. She’s fighting for him. She’s risking her own family status when she tries to protect him.”

“Bullshit,” Bobby spat.

“Because it’s not what you know? Because it’s easy for you to walk away?” Jae’s voice dropped to nearly a whisper, but the heat in his tone was growing. “Some families ignore what their sons do if they get married and have children, like
hyung
. Others cut them off like they weren’t ever born. Korea isn’t big. Your family’s reputation and situation determines everything in your life: your work, your school… everything. Even here, we’re caught between being Korean and wanting what’s in our hearts. Don’t tell me it’s bullshit if you don’t live like we do.”

“Hey, both of you,” I cut in. I was trying not to get up and dance around the desks. Not because I couldn’t dance… although apparently there was a general consensus that I was lacking in that department, but because Jae said
when
not
if
he told his family. I wanted to savor the moment, and the two of them arguing would put a damper on that. “Pull it back a bit. Bobby, you know how crappy it can be to hide who you are. Shit’s different for everybody. You know that.”

“Yeah,” he grunted in agreement, but he tackled his fries again. “That’s why it pisses me off to see people shoved into hiding. We’ve worked so fucking hard to open shit up here. Hell, it was so fucking hard for me to do it.”

“
Here
,” Jae said. “The world is not
here
. I wish it were because… change is easier. In South Korea, not so much.”

“Okay,” Bobby capitulated. “Just don’t expect me to like it.”

“I don’t,” Jae responded gently. “I didn’t say I liked it either. It just is.”

For the next hour the only sounds in the office were us eating and the tap-tap of my fingers on the keyboard. Every once in a while Bobby would swear when he hit a dead end. Little by little our list of arrested blackmail victims dwindled. By the end of the afternoon, we’d discovered one moved back to South Korea while two others took their own lives. Of the two remaining in America, only one was still in Los Angeles. The other appeared to live in New York with his wife and daughter.

“I’ll see if I can get a hold of Brandon Yeu. Maybe he’ll be willing to talk about that night.” I printed his information out of the contact database I subscribed to.

“Do it tomorrow, kid,” Bobby suggested. “It’s going to be visiting time over at the hospital. You’ll be kicking yourself in the ass if you don’t go.”

“Fuck.” I checked the time. “I’ve got to grab some flowers too.”

“Don’t forget the balloon,” Jae teased. “It just won’t be the same without the balloon.”

I
N
THE
end, we got the balloons.

Wrestling with the Mylar apocalypse I’d summoned to the hospital, I followed Jae as he carried in the large bouquet of roses and carnations we’d finally settled on. He liked the spray of white lilies which I vetoed for being used at funerals. I then chose an ornate chrysanthemum arrangement which apparently were death flowers for Koreans.

It was good to find out we were both morbidly compatible.

The hospital room looked like the botanical gardens vomited up its stomach after a hard night’s drinking. There were at least two large wreaths with
hangul
written on banners across them, but it was difficult to see around the sheer number of bodies in the room. Martin spotted me through the herd, and took control.

“Okay, everyone out.” He didn’t speak loudly, but apparently there was some kind of vibration sensor among the Claudia brood, because within seconds the room was clear, a few stopping to kiss her on the cheek before they left. The door closed behind me, and I was left alone with the woman who should have had more common sense than to come work for me.

“Did you think you were going to tie those to me, so I’d float away like that house?” she rasped from her hospital bed. “Come here, boy.”

I let go of the balloons. I didn’t give a shit if they tangled up on the ceiling or popped when they hit the florescent lights. A few steps and I had Claudia’s arms around me, squeezing the air from my lungs.

She smelled of antiseptic and the sour-skin powder scent of someone who’d been in surgery, but under it was warm vanilla and lavender soap and the steady thump of her heart pouring life through her soft, round body. The collar of the purple velvet robe I’d given her for Christmas tickled my nose when I buried my face into her shoulder, and something crinkled when I shifted against her side. Sheepishly, I let go and pulled out a stack of crayon drawings from under my hip, trying to smooth them out on my leg.