It was nearing the crack of dawn by the time Eric had completed reading through the research Maddie had given him. For a teenager, she had been thorough.
From what she knew, her friend was held hostage in a pack, and had been so for a long time. It was a pack that seemed well connected because she'd found some of their members interacting with local gangs, rivals at that, peacefully and confidently. She had attempted looking in the National Preternatural Portal but hadn't been able to hack through. She had zeroed in on a pack in the Everglades region. Two in Miami. And three local crime gangs. Their outlines were in there.
She had also given him her friend's profile.
Sakura Honda.
It was a profile from a year ago, and showed a picture of a lovely 16 year old girl. With fine phoenix monolid eyes, a heart shaped face and elegant features, the girl was a real beauty. He started going online, sneaking into all the major national databases in the states. School systems. Police. Fire. Medicine. Insurance. Traffic. Banks. There was no driver's license listed. She was listed as a homeschooled student who did her studies online. There was no bank account to her name. No cards. She was nearly non-existent.
He sighed.
Whether she realized it or not, Maddie had been right about not being able to go to the police. For all practical purposes, Sakura could be undocumented. These immigrants were prime targets for crime, because their aggressors knew they could not seek legal help.
He looked at the sheaf of papers scattered around him and wondered just how much effort this teenager was putting into finding her friend. Surely she had hired some private eyes before this.
Was it just the teen, or was someone pulling strings behind her?
There were many freelancers who had a don't ask, don't tell policy. They didn't probe their client or their motives, and did as they were told in exchange for good pay. They were also most likely to be framed for said things.
Eric Tan was not one of them. One thing he hated, was getting the wool pulled over his eyes.
He called up a friend who was good at hunting info down. A broke college student who needed money to pay for her education.
"Hey Amber! ... Yeah, good, good... Yes I know I woke you up at ass o'clock. But I need info and I need it pronto. Check your phone. I'm gonna message you a couple of names. I want everything connected to them. Anything you get your hands on, I want. .... Yes I need it today.... C'mon, I'm your favorite customer! ... Well, OK. Done. "
He hung up.
He gathered the papers and filed them neatly in a folder. He then lifted his couch seating to reveal a compartment underneath, with stacks of other folders within. And then carefully stuck this one in between one of the sheafs.
Anyone looking at the mess in his flat and at the bundles would think him a disorganized wreck. That itself would put off unwelcome eyes. Few who knew him would recognize his methodical nature. As messy as his stuff looked, he knew exactly what went where, and if need be, commit to memory. Eric was a difficult guy to fuck with.
- - - -
Maddie King sighed. She wished she hadn't come. But the presence of her elderly grandfather made up for the discomfort of the family meeting. Her mother had been perfunctory in her greeting. Her stepfather was a bit better than her mother. He had actually greeted her, not with warmth, but a respectful acknowledgement. He'd taken her aside for a moment to congratulate her on her good grades. "I read your essay on minorities rights", he had told her. "I was surprised to hear of your take on them. On the immigrant issue as well. While our stances differ, your arguments were original and compelling. Well done." That surprised Maddie. He read her essay?
It took her a moment to realize that she had earned his respect a little, not warmth or pride. But respect was better. She accepted gracefully and politely. And to her stepfather's surprise, she had not waved her grades and success in her cousins' faces, or rubbed it in his. She had stayed by her grandfather's side, who had no such qualms and would boast to anyone who would listen.
She considered her stepfather more carefully. While she bore his name, most who knew the family couldn't help but remark how different she was from the rest of his offspring. She would diplomatically get ushered to stay with the old uncles, or the more unimportant relatives when guests came by.
She ran through her personal mental checklist again. Hair in place. Clothes in place. Shoes, shiny. Overall outfit, contemporary stylish. Nothing out of date. No morose colours. Her story? Rehearsed. Her grades were good. No boyfriends. She had been in the literature club. A respectable but boring hobby. Enough for people to find nothing to pick on, and move ahead. Good.
In the corner of her eye, she could see her stepfather and uncles introducing their children to different VIPs. Some were directors of organisations. Some were deans of educational institutions and headed charities. She was pretty sure the outcome will be a bunch of privileged internships, special projects and collaborations by the end of the evening.
She left the glitter and tinkling fake laughter behind, stepping into the cool night air. A majestic garden stretched out in front of her, trimmed lawns and the occasional staff rushing about. The sprawling southern estate in the outskirts of Atlanta was where the family retreated to during specific holidays. It never felt like a home.
She was vaguely aware of being joined by someone. "I'm surprised that a young girl such as yourself is out here alone"
A classic pick-up line.
She turned to face the speaker. A middle-aged, greying man was standing behind her, with a distinguished, rather majestic beard and a glass of sparkling champagne.
What a cliche.
How does it go in most movies? Underdog Cinderella impresses unknown distinguished guests at a party, and said guest bets everything on her or falls in love with her. Huh.
Maddie knew by name and face, every person on tonight's guest list. That's why it was important to be nice to the stewards.
She was speaking to a senior lawyer, a DA hopeful in the Chicago region- Howard Hayes. A Yale graduate famous for his sharp tongue and personal interest in environmental issues, he never shied away from controversial sure-loss cases and made sure to win them just to prove a point. Most people weren't sure of his methods anyway. But like most conservatives, he had singled out preternaturals and wanted to monitor them. Did people craving power not learn anything from history?
She gave him a polite little smile and said that even socializing needed energy, and she was here just to catch a breather. And apologies, she didn't catch his name?
"Howard Hayes. An Attorney from Chicago"
"Oh yes! I heard you were campaigning for DA. How is it going, Mr. Hayes? "
"You follow my campaign?"
" I read the newspaper."
"Then you must be familiar with my proposition "
" Yes. I hear you're spearheading the argument of registering and documenting as monitoring preternatural citizens. "
"Indeed. It's important to ensure an eye on their movements and for effective governance ". He said it like it was a statement of fact, not a proposition, she noted.
"The same can be said for regular humans, don't you think? "
"How do you mean?", Hayes raised an eyebrow, appraising this girl.
"The whole point of documenting and monitoring is to ensure transparency and effective governance. If you apply the law to a select group of individuals, it's called out as a bias against the said group. But if you apply the same law to every citizen, regardless of which community they come from, it will be seen as technologically progressive governance. A pain to implement but progressive nevertheless. The spirit of equality in the constitution is upheld, though the effort is enormous. "
"Isn't that a lot of effort for a single project?"
"We gather every citizen in the country to elect one man to lead us. Asking all citizens to step forward for their own good is but natural. Why will they not agree? Only the logistics will stop them. "
He smiled, as she nodded at him, and politely took her leave. He smiled at the audacity of a teenager saying such things to him. What interested him was what she had left unsaid. Separatism and bias, as opposed to universal scrutiny?
- - - -
Eric frowned at the results Amber had sent him that afternoon. Madeline King was supposedly an orphan, given adoptive status as Archibald and Sharon King's child. But her resemblance to Sharon, and lack of, to Archie King rumoured an affair. He checked the birthday and the marriage dates. They could be manipulated, though. Ward of a well known heavy machinery magnate. That explains the money. Honour student in St. Agnes's, Washington. Why Washington? Why not some prominent finishing school elsewhere, like France or Switzerland? And how did she get associated with a shifter? Was she going behind her family's back?
Well, if she was an illegitimate kid, she'd have every reason to focus on relationships. She would also have the advantage of some juicy blackmail, depending on the case. Or get something out of them.
As for Sakura Honda, the results a different matter. They surprised him.
Sakura Honda was not just any shifter, she was a descendant from a prominent shifter family with origins in Japan, who fell upon hard times and had migrated across the world. Mother known to be dead. Father, unemployed. Two younger siblings. However progressive Japan was, they still held on to past prestige in their culture. But even with familial connections, Sakura's position didn't see to give Maddie any benefits. She was homeschooled, but showed excellent grades, even graduating early.
Both were young girls with family issues. Could it have been two kindered spirits finding each other? How the hell did they meet anyway?
He had to meet Maddie King a second time.