Page 19 of The Cinderella Secret
“I was going to ask if you wanted me to. Odds are that it’s Zhao related.”
Aiden grimaced. Of course it was. “What do you think they’re doing?”
“Opposition research,” said Jackson with a shrug. “Looking for something they can use for leverage or just getting to know us.”
“I would think,” said Aiden, “that by now people would have gotten the message that we don’t want to be known.”
“You would think,” said Pete, looking amused.
“What have you found out about the Zhaos?” asked Aiden.
“Bai Zhao, fifty-eight, father of three, married to Liu. The family recently moved to New York. Took a year-long lease on a penthouse on the west side. He founded Zhao Industries the year that Bo died. He used investment capital from a small contingent of investors and built up the manufacturing side of the business first. Rumor has it that about ten years ago he fought off a take-over from some of the original investors for control and leveraged his clout within the Chinese political party to do it. That makes him anchored to China pretty heavily, but at the same time, he hasn’t been back to China since. He even moved his mother out of China to live with him and his family. His oldest daughter recently married a German businessman. Middle daughter is at Oxford. Youngest daughter, Lilly, is in high-school. Just enrolled at St. Lucius. Then we get to the interesting one—his niece, Ella Zhao.”
“Niece?” asked Aiden. Jackson nodded to Pete, who took a cautious sip of his coffee before speaking.
“Yeah. Niece. Ella Zhao is Bo Zhao’s daughter. The most info I can find on her is that she moved in with them five or six years ago. Said to be living with her mom before that. Not sure where. Bai put her through law school, and she’s spent the last year terrorizing everyone who dared to step into a courtroom with her. She’s my bet for who he’ll put in charge of whatever they’re planning.”
“Bo’s daughter… This is starting to feel more and more personal,” said Aiden.
“Agreed,” said Jackson. “I’m going to reach out to some people in the police department and see what I can dig up on Bo’s death.”
“Do we want to know?” asked Aiden.
“What do you mean?” asked Jackson, taking his feet off the desk.
Aiden hesitated. “I mean, what if we find out that the reason they’re mad at us is because Randall or Owen actually did something?”
“Are you saying that Randall or Owen killed this guy?” asked Pete.
“No,” said Aiden. “I mean… probably not. But if even half the stories I’ve heard about them are true, the two of them were walking HR-violation nightmares. If they weren’t dead, they’d be getting hashtag Me Too’d the fuck out of town. Legally speaking, it might be better if we had plausible deniability.”
Jackson popped another bubble, but if bubbles could be thoughtful, this one was it. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said at last.
“What does that mean?”
“There are times when it is better for Eleanor if Eleanor doesn’t know things. I’m used to making that judgement call. I’ll keep that in mind with this issue.”
“But you’ll still know about it,” said Aiden.
“Not that you’ll know,” said Jackson.
Aiden stared at his cousin. “How many secrets do you keep?” he asked.
“At least as many as you,” said Jackson.
“I don’t have any secrets,” said Aiden, plastering on the sunny smile that was his usual armor. “Everyone knows everything about me. My biography is practically on page six.”
“Uh-huh,” said Jackson, who looked like he didn’t believe the sunny smile one bit. “Meanwhile, what do you want me to do about our special new friends? You said squash them, but is that really what you want? Legally speaking.”
Aiden thought about it. “Yes,” he said at last. “Fuck them. This is our town and our family. They’ve come here to take what belongs to us and I don’t give two shits if one of their dogs of war gets his nose swatted.”
Jackson smiled. “Nose swatting. Check. I can do that. What’s our next official move?”
“Nothing,” said Aiden, shaking his head. “We have to wait for them. They’ll do something. Probably small. A letter of some kind. And if we were clueless and stupid, we might just give them what they want to make them go away.”
“But we’re not clueless and stupid?” asked Jackson.
“Not generally,” said Aiden. “I mean, periodically yes, about women, booze and that forty-eight-piece box of McNuggets.”
