Donovans 02 - Jade Island

nerve-racking.”
    As Lianne spoke, she thought of Kyle’s newly purchased Neolithic blade and of Wen’s superb collection of ceremonial blades, of Wen’s secret jade burial shroud andFarmer’s very public one. Beneath her calm face and easy conversation, fear and urgency coiled, making her stomach clench.
    She had to talk to Wen. Tonight, if possible. If not, then tomorrow, when she returned the exhibition jades to the Tang vault in Vancouver.
    But right now she had to take care of Johnny’s business with Kyle Donovan.
    “Are you ready to meet Wen?” she asked.
    “I don’t know. Am I?”
    “Yes,” she decided. “You’re ready.”
    She led Kyle across the room. Nobody greeted her, though one of the young men certainly looked her over with a thoroughness that raised Kyle’s hackles. He wondered if the guy knew he was leering at a first cousin or a half sister.
    When Johnny saw Lianne walking toward Wen, he shed his beautiful companion without a backward glance. He went over to his father, motioned the dainty guitar player into silence, and spoke in rapid Cantonese.
    Wen nodded and tried to focus on the stranger who was now standing in front of him. All he saw was a tall shadow with a golden nimbus around his head, like an angel in an old Christian hymnal. A very large angel. The familiar scent of Lianne’s perfume told Wen that she was the vague, pearly shadow standing at the stranger’s side.
    No sooner had Johnny finished the introductions than Harry appeared. More introductions followed. At a gesture from Johnny, three chairs appeared and the girls vanished to wait on other men. Harry’s companion walked up on small, high-heeled feet. She stood to the side and behind him, waiting to be needed.
    Wen spoke in the papery voice of an old man.
    “He asks that you sit,” Lianne translated for Kyle. “He is no longer able to stretch his neck to see the top of such a tall tree.”
    Kyle looked around for a chair. Johnny had alreadytaken one, and Harry another, leaving the last one for Kyle. There was no chair for Lianne.
    “Please,” she said softly, understanding why Kyle didn’t sit down right away. “As you pointed out earlier, we aren’t in America. In any case, Wen’s voice is very soft and speaking tires him. To hear, I must stand very close to him.”
    Kyle shrugged and sat down. Even seated, he was head and shoulders above Wen and half that much above his sons.
    Lianne thanked Kyle with a smile, positioned herself so that she could hear her grandfather’s frail voice, and pulled the impersonal role of translator around her like a welcome armor.
    Kyle watched and listened while the Tang family paid court to him in the leisurely, gracious, indirect manner of the Chinese culture. All except Harry. The Number Two Son’s attitude made it clear that he wasn’t quite convinced that Kyle should be a guest, much less an honored one.
    After the initial round of pleasantries, Wen settled back wearily in his chair. As though that was a signal, Harry and Johnny switched to English. Lianne continued to translate, but for Wen’s benefit, not for Kyle’s.
    It was half an hour before the conversation passed from politely trivial to perhaps—just perhaps—meaningful.
    “Wen understands that you are a connoisseur of archaic jade,” Harry said.
    “Specifically Neolithic,” Kyle responded, looking at Lianne’s unacknowledged uncle.
    Harry looked older than Johnny by at least ten years, clean-cheeked, and thicker through the shoulders and thighs. He had as much silver as black in his hair. His English was stilted but serviceable. He moved in the abrupt manner of a man accustomed to wielding power. His companion, who hadn’t been introduced, lit his cigarettes, refreshed his beer, and kept a dish of salted nuts within his reach at all times. She did the same for Wen,Johnny, and Kyle, but it was Harry she looked to for instructions.
    “My father is also interested in jade,” Harry said.
    “So I’m told,” Kyle said. “Wen Zhi Tang’s collection is the envy of everyone who has heard of it. Although now, I suppose, Dick Farmer will be the king of jade connoisseurs. A modern-day Jade Emperor. I presume you heard about Farmer’s spectacular jade burial suit?”
    A flick of Harry’s immaculately manicured hand dismissed Dick Farmer, the Jade Emperor, and Kyle’s question. “Is your father interested also in jade?” Harry asked.
    “No.”
    “What are his passions? Gambling? Politics?