Donovans 02 - Jade Island

Kyle’s stomach gave a hungry rumble. The coffee was wonderfully potent, but it wasn’t food.
    “What did you hear at the auction?” Archer asked.
    “Bids.”
    “You want to wear this omelet or eat it?”
    “Even before Farmer strutted his new suit, I asked Lianne about the Jade Emperor’s Tomb. She said she didn’t think it had been found, much less robbed.”
    “Why?” Archer asked without looking up from the omelet he was cooking.
    “Mainly because she hasn’t heard about anyone having a big sale of top-quality grave goods.”
    “Maybe the thieves are just selling it off a piece at a time.”
    “That’s what I said.”
    Archer pulled a warm plate from the oven, slid the omelet onto the creamy white surface, and put the plate in front of Kyle. “What did Lianne say?”
    “Before or after Farmer’s stunt?”
    “Before.”
    “She said a piecemeal sale would lower the value but keep things quiet.”
    “What do you think?”
    Kyle leaned back until the stool rocked on two legs, grabbed a fork from a nearby kitchen drawer, and attacked the omelet. He talked and ate at the same time, figuring if Archer didn’t like the view he could shut his eyes.
    “I think there’s more going on in her mind than is coming out of her mouth.”
    Archer poured himself a cup of coffee, leaned against the counter, and gave Kyle his full attention. “Anything in particular, or just another one of your famous hunches?”
    “Han artifacts, even spectacular ones like the jade shroud, aren’t Lianne’s passion, but she was ready to take on the whole crowd and Farmer’s guards to get close to it.”
    Archer shrugged, unimpressed.
    “Then there was a piece of buried jade at the auction,” Kyle continued. “It was worthy of an emperor. A blade about eight inches long, not a chip or a crack, moss green with just enough yellow in it to show off the pattern of the stone. Lianne told me the stains were in the right place to please Asian tastes.”
    “Did she think it might have come from the Jade Emperor’s Tomb?”
    “She said anything was possible.”
    Archer grunted and sat down opposite Kyle. “Not much help there.”
    “Maybe. But she bid on the blade.”
    “It was an auction.”
    “Her personal passion is Warring States artifacts,” Kyle said around a mouthful of omelet. “The blade was Neolithic.”
    “So she had a client.”
    “Maybe.”
    “But you don’t think so?” Archer said, drinking coffee and watching his brother over the rim of the mug.
    “I’d bet she was personally unhappy, not professionally, when she was outbid.”
    “Another ‘feeling’ of yours?” Archer asked.
    “Yeah. Don’t you wish you had them?”
    “I’d rather count on something tangible.”
    “Like a gun?” Kyle retorted.
    “Like family. How many of the Tang Consortium brass did you meet?”
    “Of the immediate family?”
    “Yes.”
    “Every male but Joe, the Number One Son.”
    “What did your gut tell you about Harry?” Archer asked.
    “If I were Joe, I’d watch my back. Harry likes being in charge.”
    “What about Wen?”
    “Old and getting older. Eyesight is very poor. Hands are gone to arthritis.”
    “You can finesse hands and eyes. What about his mind?”
    “I don’t speak Chinese, so I can’t really judge. But Harry was real attentive to his daddy, which makes me think Wen’s mind is just fine.”
    Archer looked into his coffee. It was black as hell and almost as bitter. “Wen is ninety-two.”
    Kyle whistled softly. “How old is Joe?”
    “Sixty-three.”
    “Harry didn’t look much older than fifty. Some gray in his hair, but not a whole lot more than you, old man.”
    “You aren’t going to have a head for hair to grow on if you don’t stop baiting me,” Archer said without real heat. “Harry is fifty-eight.”
    “Johnny?”
    “Fifty-seven. There are eight girls. The youngest is forty. The oldest is seventy-one. I could give you their names, but it wouldn’t matter. In some ways the Tang family is very old-fashioned. When the sisters married, they stopped being Tangs.”
    “Lianne is what—twenty-two?”
    “Almost thirty.”
    Kyle’s bronze eyebrows lifted. “Must be something in the Hong Kong water. A regular Fountain of Youth.”
    “Lianne was raised in Seattle.”
    Metal grated on the slate floor as Kyle rocked his stool back on two legs. “Where was the rest of her family raised?”
    “Anna Blakely lived in a series of foster homes until she was thirteen. Then she