Chapter 24

Dean Lifante

3:30 PM

Dean followed the Lius' white car. Traffic was heavy, and he was afraid of losing it. There were already three other white Ford Endeavours around him. He stuck two car lengths back to stay out of their way. His stomach wouldn't stop jumping, dread gnawing at him. Usually, his instinct was just a feeling that something was wrong. Ever since he'd met Ming's parents, he realized a new level of pain. There were some slight butterflies when he shook the mother's hand, but the father was different. The last time this reaction happened, he was hit with a summons from his ex-wife and arrested for rape and the murder of her lover. Ming had been the only one to help him clear his name.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. The rubber squeaked in protest. Ming couldn't be involved in this, could she? Her parents weren't on Stanley's list, just Yichen. Why did he feel like he couldn't trust her? This was going to kill him.

"Where are they going?" he muttered.

Barbie

3:30 PM

"What do you mean he's dead?" Barbie yelled at the door. She waved her arms in the air and stomped her foot. "His son said he talked to him today and that Chip Sr. was fine."

"I'm very sorry my husband's death has inconvenienced you," Mrs. Punk said, huffing. "He died in a car accident a few years ago." She shut the outer door. "Now, please leave."

Barbie stood outside the Punks' door and puffed her cheeks out. "Pbthhh." She spun around and stomped back to the car. Yanking the door open, she slid in. "Give me your phone. I gotta call Dean."

Ivan reached into his pocket with his right hand and handed his phone to Barbie. He pulled out a second phone with his left hand, kept it low and started typing.

Dean Lifante

4:00 PM

The Lius turned down the road leading to his neighbourhood. After Dean had divorced his wife, he had moved into this run-down part of the city. The houses still had their paint, but it wasn't fresh with exposed panelling. The yards needed work with the fences and grass showing the same kind of neglect.

He sped up, overtaking their white Ford and pulled into the spot in front of his house. Parking at an angle, he jumped out and raced to the porch. He could still hear the hum of the air conditioner through the door. Testing the door to see if it was still locked, he spun around and faced the Lius as they were coming up the sidewalk.

"Why were you following us?" Mrs. Liu asked. Her hands were on her hips, and she was glaring at him. Mr. Liu was behind her.

"This is my house. Can I ask what you're doing here?" Dean placed his hand on his gun, wary of what his wife might do. However, he kept his instinct trained on the older man. He had no idea what Mr. Liu was capable of.

"We're looking for our daughter." Mrs. Liu poked Dean in the chest with her finger again. "We traced her phone here and know you've done something to her."

"Her phone?" Dean smiled at the woman. How could I have been so stupid? Of course, she'd be carrying a tracking app on her phone.

"She must have forgotten it last night," Dean said, praying that Ming would forgive him. "We were brainstorming the latest case. She's working with me." Dean cringed. Why was everything he said digging him deeper into the hole? He knew enough about Chinese culture that you never mention their daughter spent the night at your place.

"Who are you looking for?" Mr. Liu said, stepping closer to the door.

Dean tuned out Mrs. Liu's voice and stared at Ming's father. Why was this feeling racing through his body? It was a cross between falling and wanting to throw up. When Ming first tried to help him, he did a background check on her and her family. He'd uncovered her connection to Yichen and the Shujing. That had concerned him, but she was able to explain it. He was her grandmother's brother.

Ming's mother was a typical housewife, angry and controlling. Nothing was interesting about her father's life. He was a salesman and often travelled for work. The only interesting fact Dean had uncovered about the man was that when Ming was seven, he'd been in a car accident and almost died. She said he was cold afterwards. Like something had changed.

"No," he whispered. The realization hit Dean like a bullet to the head. He took a step back, his eyes widening. This was the same setup as with Doctor Stanley. He stared at Mr. Liu, and the pit in his stomach stopped falling. That only happened when he made the right decision.

"Stop ignoring me and tell me where my daughter is!" Mrs. Liu yelled. She got into Dean's face, the veins in her neck ready to pop.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her to the side. "When did he die?" he asked Mr. Liu. "Was it the accident or in the hospital?"

"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Liu screamed. "When did who die? My husband isn't dead, you sicko."

Mr. Liu was silent. He gave a small smile. "The hospital bed," he mouthed.

Dean staggered back and fell against the door. Sprawled on the front porch, he narrowed his eyes at Ming's father. "Does Ming know?"

"She suspects," Mr. Liu said.

"Does Ming know what?" Mrs. Liu stomped her foot. "I've had enough of this farce." She went to the door and started pounding on it. "Ming! I know you're in there. Open up."

"What's with the old lady?"

Dean turned and watched Barbie get out of Ivan's car. She was pointing at Mrs. Liu. The big man stood on the other side, staring at the house. He raised a phone and took a picture.

"Who's she?" Mrs. Liu screamed, pointing a finger at Barbie. "Another floozy? Are you bringing my daughter down to match the depravity of your life?"

His neighbour's curtains twitched. He wouldn't be surprised to find this incident posted on the tabloid sites soon.

"Why'd you come here?" Dean asked Barbie, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I couldn't get you on the phone." She shrugged. "When I called the station, a Zacoski said you'd taken off. I figured you were checking on the Maker."

Dean closed his eyes and looked around Barbie at the car. "Maybe Ivan didn't hear that. Again. Why are you here?"

"Chester Punk Sr. is dead. He was in a car accident a few years ago and didn't survive," Barbie said.

"There are a lot of accidents around you, aren't there, Slazney? Isn't that a bit too cliché?" Dean said to Mr. Liu. He just smiled and continued to stand where he was. Barbie's eyes widened as she looked at the older Asian man. Dean nodded, and she smiled. She got behind him. Ivan completed the circle around the old man, leaving him pinned in on three sides.

"Do something, you fool!" Mrs. Liu yelled at her husband. If this were a cartoon, Dean would have expected her teeth to fly out and chomp him on the nose. The absurdity of the situation fits that response.

"Yes, Dear," Mr. Liu said and relaxed his stance.

"Take it easy, sir. We have some questions for you." Dean stepped forward, reaching for the older man.

Mr. Liu slapped Dean's hand away and took a step back. "You don't want to be doing this. Not here," he said.

"The questions won't take long." Dean directed Ivan to hold onto the man. He remembered how difficult it was to take him down in the police station. There would be no escaping from the Russians' grip.

"That's too bad," Mr. Liu said. "This body had been very useful, but I was almost finished with it anyway."

"Dear?" Dean heard the confusion in Mrs. Liu's voice. It was less shrill and more worried. Her eyes narrowed, and she was frowning. "What are you saying? I don't understand."

Her husband ignored her and hit a switch on his belt. A stream of black gas hissed out and wrapped itself around Mr. Liu, covering the whole front of Dean's house in seconds, forcing Barbie and Ivan back.

"Dear!" Mrs. Liu shouted, stepping forward, hands outstretched. Her face was a mask of concern.

"Fuck!" Dean shot forward and stepped into the smoke. "Don't let him get away!" Waving his arms around, he felt nothing. "Where are you, Mr. Liu?"

No answer.

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Liu said from outside the cloud. "Where did this smoke come from? Find my husband!" She started coughing.

Dean stepped forward and tripped over something in the darkness. Sprawled on the ground, he turned around and sprawled in something sticky. Crawling over to it, he pulled out his phone, moved in close and turned on the flashlight app.

Mr. Liu's dead face stared back at him. The eyes had already sunk into the back of the head, and he was starting to putrefy. The smell hit Dean like a truck. He tripped, staggered out of the smoke and started coughing.

"What happened?" Mrs. Liu said, grabbing onto his sleeve. "Where's my husband? What did you see?"

Barbie and Ivan stared at the smoke. Both of them stood with their arms crossed.

Dean grumbled and pulled out his phone. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Liu. Your husband is dead." He hated himself for being so cold. The only way he knew how to deal with the sight was to shut it out while dialling the precinct. He wasn't going to be able to hide this.

"No! You're lying!" Mrs. Liu turned to the black smoke and watched as the wind picked up and blew it away, revealing a pile of bones, clothes and a watch. Some of the bones had already turned to dust, leaving the teeth and his clothing. Mrs. Liu clenched her face with her hands and fell to her knees. She started screaming, rocking back and forth.

"What the fuck?" Dean said. His mask shattered. Nausea worked its way up.

Barbie came up next to him. "Slazney was using the body for too long, and the soul is long gone. When he abandoned it, it reverted to the state it should have been in," she said. "The Chinese often cremate the dead, so when Slazney left, he became mostly dust."

Mrs. Liu continued to cry and rock back and forth on the ground. Her wailing pierced Dean's heart. Wiping his eyes, he placed a call to the precinct.

6:00 PM

Dean ground his teeth as he watched Ortiz load Mrs. Liu into a car to take her home. Fischer was kneeling over the pile of bone dust, poking at it with a pen. Everything was taking too long.

"Are you sure it was her husband?" he asked Dean. He started scooping it into one of the plastic baggies.

"Yes. The neighbour got it all on video," Dean said, winging. "I've already sent a copy to Zacoski."

"Humm!" Fischer said.

"What is it?"

The head CSI was silent and finished cleaning up the remains. "I've only ever seen this kind of thing once before." He put the plastic bag into a larger canvas one. "You say there was a black smoke, and when it cleared, the body was gone, and the bones were turning to dust."

"Yes. I've already told you three times," Dean grumbled. "Where are you going with this?"

"The last time I saw this was a few years ago, when the body of a perfectly healthy businessman suddenly keeled over and dissolved during a business meeting. None of the other people in the room was affected."

"I never heard of that," Dean said, drawing back. "When was this?"

"I'm not surprised. Zacoski and the FBI hushed it up. Told me never to say anything." He turned to Dean. "I'm sure they'll be here soon." He packed up his bag and walked away.

Dean had always hated Fischer. It wasn't on purpose, but the CSI found the evidence that Dean had killed his wife's lover. His wife had planted it in his kitchen, and Fischer, doing his job, uncovered everything and never apologized when the charges were proven bogus. Dean had never forgiven the man, and Fischer knew it. He always acted like a prick, insulting Dean every chance he got, so it made it easy. Now, it was hard to keep it up.

He went over to Ortiz. "How's Mrs. Liu?"

"In denial. It's not every day someone you love dissolves in front of you," she said. "She could only deal with it by blocking it out. She said she's planning on cooking dinner for her husband when he gets home from his latest trip. Hell, if I hadn't seen the video, I wouldn't believe it. I'm going to take her home."

"Thank you, Ortiz. I really appreciate it." Dean nodded and turned away.

"Detective Lifante?" she said.

"Yes, Ortiz?"

"I ran up on the name of the person who leaked Mr. Miladev's name to the press," she said.

"What did you find out?"

She glanced to the side, almost as if she was worried someone was listening in on her. Taking a step forward, she lowered her voice. "According to the man I spoke to at the news office, it was from an official statement given to them by Lieutenant Zacoski."

Dean grunted. "I'll talk to him about it when I get the chance."

"Yes, sir. Umm. I don't believe everything they say about you at the precinct. You aren't the person they say you are," she said. She was looking down and twiddling her thumbs.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Ten years ago, if a young woman had said something complementary to him, he'd be drawing a short breath and blushing. Now, he narrowed his eyes. He hated how far he'd fallen since those days. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know." She ran her hand through her brown hair. "Just a gut feeling." She stared up at his face.

Dean chuckled. "Keep that feeling strong. It'll take you places." Dean turned around and waved his hand in the air. Maybe people weren't all bad. He walked away and tripped over a loose stone, stumbling forward and landing on his porch.

"You've got a red face," Barbie said. "I thought you liked the reporter. Why are you trying to get into the young woman's pants?" she asked.

"Shut up!" Dean growled. "Why are you outside the house?" he whispered. "I told you to make sure nobody saw those two. That's why I sent Ivan away as well. Two uniforms are already chasing his car."

Barbie scrunched her face. "The Maker is fine. He could use a bath, but the woman is gone."

Dean pushed past Barbie and ran to the bedroom. Bobby's corpse was on the bed, turning stiff. There was no sign of Ming, though, just her phone.