Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [61]
"No." Ona bagged the customer's order and wished her a good day. "Can I help you with something? Maybe some ginkgo biloba or some licorice. You look anxious, tense. What have you been eating? Are you drinking too much coffee again? You know you have to keep a balance in your life."
"Yes, yes, I know." Unfortunately balance was the last thing she had right now. She was so weighted down it was hard to stand upright, but she didn't want to tell Ona the reason for her anxiety. As the oldest, Ona was also the nosiest, believing she had some inalienable right to butt into everyone's business.
"You're a big-time banker now," Ona continued. "You should take care of your health."
"I take ginseng every day."
"What about ginger? It disburses the cold, adjusts nutritive and protective qi."
"Fine, I'll take some ginger. But I think you're just trying to show a profit so our grandparents will leave the shop to you and not to cousin Lian."
Ona smiled. "You are a smart girl, little cousin."
"Don't let the family hear you say that or you'll be disowned for good."
"It's the twenty-first century. Our grandparents need to get over the facts of your birth," Ona said firmly.
"They never will. I don't expect it anymore. And I don't really care."
"Don't you?" Ona asked softly, compassion in her dark eyes. "It's not right the way you've been treated. I wish you would come to New Year's. I miss you every year."
"That's sweet of you to say, but I won't come without my mother, and she's not welcome." Alyssa took the bag of herbs off the counter. "By the way, I heard there was a robbery in Salmon Alley two nights ago. Do you know who did it?"
"I have no idea. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious. I read about it in the newspaper. You always seem to know what's going on in the neighborhood. I heard the victim was a Hathaway and that he might have had a priceless statue with him."
"I heard the same thing. Assaulting rich white men is very bad for business. If the tourists are afraid to come here, we'll all suffer."
That was Ona, a homeopathic herbalist but also an unemotional pragmatist. Of course, Ona didn't realize that the rich white man was Alyssa's father.
"Our grandparents were very upset about it," Ona added. "I heard them talking in the back room. They don't like it when crime gets too close. It makes them remember the old days when they had to pay for protection from the gangs running through the streets."
"They had to pay for protection?"
"Of course. It was a way of life for many years, but thankfully not now."
"Do you think a gang was responsible for the attack?"
"No one is boasting about it, but who can say? Ancient art pieces can be sold on the black market for a lot of money. I'm surprised Mr. Hathaway didn't have more security with him. Actually, I'm surprised he was here at all. I bet he was going to see Lonnie Yao. He's an expert on Chinese bronzes. He has a reputation for being able to spot a fake from three feet away."
"You'd think a rich man like Mr. Hathaway would have his own expert right in the store."
Ona shrugged. "Is something wrong? You seem awfully interested in this robbery."
"Nothing is wrong. So, where is our grandmother?" Alyssa asked, deciding she better change the subject before Ona became more curious. "Is she upstairs cleaning the apartment for the New Year's celebration?"
Ona groaned. "Every day she cleans—up there, down here, in the garden. And every night she buys fresh oranges and tangerines and tells me to take them home so I can have more babies. She doesn't think my two are enough."
Alyssa laughed. Ona's two energetic boys were more than enough. "Maybe she wants you to have a girl."
"I don't think so. She says three boys would be lucky."
"I think I'll go upstairs and see her."
"She isn't upstairs. She went out, and she didn't say where. She was in a bad mood, so I let her go without asking why."
"Why was she in a bad mood?"