Free The Deepest Cut by Dianne Emley Page B

businesses that were closed.
    Taking keys from his pocket, Ken clicked the attached remote control. A shiny, new black Mercedes S-class sedan parked down the street flashed its lights.
    As they moved closer to the car, Vining saw a shadow of someone sitting in the backseat. “Who’s that?”
    Zhang responded, “My mother.”
    The car’s back door opened and a small, older Chinese woman dressed in a trim light blue pantsuit stepped onto the street. Her silver hair was peppered with black and neatly coiffed in a simple short style. She spoke to her daughter in Chinese.
    Zhang responded in a tone considerably more respectful than the one she’d used with the PPD. Zhang introduced Vining. “This is my mother, Wan Li.”
    Li bowed to Vining. “A pleasure to meet you, Detective Vining.”
    Vining returned the bow, though the gesture did not come naturally. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Li.”
    The older woman gave her a stare, surprising Vining with its intensity. Mrs. Li pointed at Vining’s shoulder and smiled.
    Vining looked at her shoulder and saw that the butterfly was still there. She raised her hand to brush it away, but before she could, it took flight on its own.
    Mrs. Li watched it flutter away into the darkness and said, “A ghost follows you, Detective Vining.”
    “A ghost?” Vining said with surprise.
    Still smiling, Mrs. Li nodded, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “You have not made this ghost happy, so it follows you.”
    Zhang spoke to her mother in Chinese.
    Mrs. Li turned back toward the car, but then watched as the butterfly again flew near and lit on Vining’s shoulder. She bowed to Vining. “I hope to meet you again, Detective.” She bowed again, lower, in the direction of the butterfly. She got inside the car and Ken closed the door.
    Vining tried to ignore the butterfly, which she could see out of the corner of her eye. She felt embarrassed and exposed, in a way that recalled a recurring dream of hers. In the dream, she’s going about her day and everything is fine, but everyone is treating her strangely. Then she suddenly realizes that she’s dressed only in her underwear.
    Zhang said, “I hope my mother didn’t offend you. We Chinese take our ghosts seriously. They need to be attended to. Appeased, so that they don’t trouble us, the living.”
    “No offense taken. What about you, Mrs. Zhang? Do you see a ghost following me?” Vining’s question came out sounding harsher than intended. She was still embarrassed by the stupid butterfly that had drawn this unwanted attention to her.
    “I don’t have that talent.” Zhang’s response matched the tone of Vining’s question. “But I do not discount my mother’s capabilities.”
    Ken opened the passenger door for his mother and she got inside.
    Vining handed her a business card. “I’ll be in touch, Mrs. Zhang.”
    Zhang set the card on the console without looking at it.
    As Ken was closing the door, he asked Vining, “Are you Emily’s mother?”
    The question surprised Vining. “Yes, I am.”
    The question also surprised Zhang, who put her hand against the door, stopping Ken from shutting it.
    “She’s in my photography class.”
    “You go to the Coopersmith School?”
    “Yes. I’m a senior. Actually, Emily and I are working on a school project together.”
    “A project … Are you?” Vining detected a spark in his eyes whenhe said Emily’s name. Judging from the way Zhang was looking at her son, she discerned the same thing.
    Neither mother was pleased.
    “In our digital photography class.” He was beaming, more lively than he’d been all night.
    Zhang snapped, “Lincoln Kennedy, time to go.” She slammed the car door.
    Vining walked the young man to the driver’s door. “Ken, do your mother a favor and make sure she doesn’t come back here in the morning.”
    “I’ll remind her.” He didn’t sound hopeful.
    Finally finding a private moment with him, Vining asked, “Do you know who China Dog