Page 64 of Damian’s Conquest

“Tell her I said hi.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks, Cynthia.”

Outside the salon, Naomi took a deep breath, and contemplated what to do next. If Tracy was planning to get away from her family, then maybe there was some evidence in her flat about where she would go. When she and Damian had searched Tracy’s flat earlier, they’d looked for Mick and the stolen bottles of blood, but had found nothing. They hadn’t looked at paperwork or anything else that might reveal what Tracy and Mick had been planning.

Her cell phone rang, and Naomi pulled it from her handbag and looked at the display.

“Hey, Heather.”

“Weren’t you supposed to drop off another sample of that blood you found so I can run a second test?”

Damn it. She’d forgotten that she’d told Heather she would give her another sample to analyze. But she couldn’t do that now. Not after everything that Damian had told her. She had to keep his secret.

“Ah, yeah, I know I was supposed to, but it turns out there was nothing left. I just couldn’t get another sample. Sorry. And it looks like the story is fizzling out anyway,” she lied. “False alarm. Sorry. Happens.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. It’s all been cleared up, and unfortunately there’s no story. I shouldn’t even have asked you to run the test. It was such a long shot to begin with.”

“If you say so. So, when are you gonna tell me about that guy of yours?”

“Soon,” she promised. Just as soon as she’d discussed with Damian what she could tell her friend. “Listen, gotta go. Talk soon.”

“Later,” Heather said, and Naomi disconnected the call.

She sighed, hating that she had to lie to her friend, but it couldn’t be helped. Getting back to her earlier thoughts, Naomi hailed a cab to drive her back to Tracy’s flat in the Tenderloin.

“You sure that’s the right address, Miss?” the cab driver asked with a glance at the drug addicts and homeless people loitering near the entrance.

“Yes, that’s it, thank you.” She paid him and got out of the cab.

Naomi shivered uncomfortably as she walked to the entrance of the apartment building, feeling the eyes of several people on her. For a second, she wondered whether she should have called Damian to accompany her to Tracy’s flat, but she knew he was busy with following up on leads regarding the partial license plate.

Inside the building, she quickly walked up to the fifth floor, feeling winded when she reached it. She was totally out of shape. Grateful now that the door to Tracy’s flat hadn’t locked, she quickly let herself into the apartment and closed the door behind her. She flipped the deadbolt, and let out a sigh of relief.

Naomi switched on the light, and started searching the bedroom. The closet she’d searched earlier revealed nothing new. Under the bed were several boxes with shoes, and in the nightstand were tissues, earplugs, a book, and allergy pills.

She skipped the bathroom, because she’d searched it earlier and found no papers, money, or any other items of interest. The kitchen cabinets were rather bare, so was the fridge. The half-eaten sandwich was still on the counter and attracting flies. Naomi took it and tossed it in the trash. She even checked the freezer, because she figured it would make for a good spot to hide something, but except for an old bag of frozen peas, it was empty.

In the living room with the dining area, a small TV stood on a rickety TV stand. Below it were a few newspapers, two Manila folders, and a shoebox. The newspapers were old. One folder contained bills, the other coupons from supermarkets. Naomi reached for the shoebox and lifted the lid.

Inside it were photos. Curious, she sat down on the sofa, the shoebox on her lap, and went through it. There was no particular order to the photos. Many of them were older, from when Tracy was a young girl. Several showed her with a young Asian couple. On the back of it, she’d written who the people were.

With Mom and Dad, Universal Studios, 2011.

Naomi sighed, and looked at the photo again. The girl in the photo beamed at the camera. How long after this photo had been taken had her parents died?

The next photo was turned over, and she read the description first: High School Graduation with Grandma and Uncle Wei, 2019.

She turned the photo around and almost choked on her own saliva. She knew the people in the photo. The woman, Tracy’s grandmother, was Mrs. Zhang. The same woman who’d claimed to have seen Mick with blood on him, when in reality she’d seen her own granddaughter making out with Mick. But that wasn’t the only reason Naomi was in shock. The person on the other side of Tracy was Wei Guo, her editor. He was Tracy’s uncle.

“Fuck!”

This couldn’t be a coincidence. Wei hadn’t mentioned that Mrs. Zhang was his mother. In fact, he’s said a Mrs. Zhang as if he had no idea who she was. They didn’t have the same last name, which she knew wasn’t unusual since Chinese women often kept their maiden name. Why would Wei send her to his own mother to investigate allegations of a satanic cult or blood sacrifices in the club when his mother was the witness? And Naomi used the word witness very loosely now, because after Gabriel had delved into the woman’s memories, it was clear that she hadn’t witnessed anything of the sort.

Wei Guo had set her up. He was fabricating the entire story. But to what end? She could come up with a few theories. But before she got lost in a rabbit hole, she had to get out of here and talk to Damian.

Naomi put the photo with Wei Guo and Mrs. Zhang into her handbag and pulled out her cell. She called Damian’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.