Vandermein

XXI

The interior was as unassuming as its exterior: antique furniture, throw rugs, and decorations sourced equally for its prettiness and practicality. It looked like an old woman's home. 

Ji-min's diminutive-yet-intimidating persona moved through the dimly lit space to a closet door, which she opened with a swipe of her hand. The entryway did not swing open, but slid, revealing an elevator cab, its modern steel-and-wood aesthetic jarring against the rest of the home's decor. 

"Come on," Ji-min barked. 

The five of us, including Marie's carried body, entered the cramped carriage. The interior was void of any buttons or displays, only bright white LED light fixtures that cast shadows down all of our faces. Somewhere in here there must be a camera, though the old lady must have hidden it well. 

"Where does this take us?" Boone asked, clearly confounded by the series of settings he'd witnessed up until this point. I realized that this misadventure was giving the detective far more evidence than I would have allowed under normal circumstances. But what was I to do? Our goals were strangely aligned for a time. 

"I don't answer police questions without my lawyer," Ji-min barked back in her sharp accent. 

She wasn't Kenzie's real mother. Ji-Min was a world-class criminal--a manager of other criminals even. When her time of sneaking, stealing, espionage, and escape was behind her, she took to mentoring and training. Kenzie, as a young woman, had shown promise. And indeed, Ji-min's investment in her had paid off handsomely. It was a source of constant tension between them that Kenzie didn't "fulfill her potential" or take over the family business from Ji-Min. Still, the two had grown some primal connection: Ji-Min had never had a daughter, so she adopted her star pupil; Kenzie had never had a mother, so she bonded to her mentor. They shared a loyal--if terse--relationship; an unspoken commitment that connected them, even if they seemed to resent each other. 

The elevator slowed and the metal door slid open. The chamber beyond was radically different than the quaint dwelling above. It was lavish, profane even. Long, curling, white sofas in the center of the room, walls of art and books and statues; there was a fully stocked wet bar, a fountain, a massive television on the wall. There were even tall windows with convincing projections of outside, complete with gentle breezes and the scents of lilac trees and grass. My two children were reclined on the couch, their noses in their books.

Ji-min greeted the children in Korean, and they answered in the same. Was she teaching them her language? Their eyes shifted quickly from her to me and Kenzie, and they greeted us as well, this time in English. They ran to us, wrapping their arms around us. The impact of Hunter's affection nearly toppled me over and made me drop Marie. I was, apparently, not quite at 100% yet. I'd need rest, something to eat more than a whopper. Hopefully Ji-Min was feeling hospitable. 

"Follow me," Ji-Min instructed me and Boone. We took Marie to another room. Inside, there were holding cells, white rooms with what looked like glass separating the inside from the hallway. In one of the rooms was Veronica, sitting on a cot and staring at the wall. 

Boone stopped, looking directly at his partner. 

"She can't see you," Ji-Min told him. "It's a one-sided mirror."

"How'd she get in?" Boone asked. 

"No questions!" 

We placed Marie in a cell and Ji-Min got to testing her vitals. "One of your concoctions, I presume?"

"Hibernation," I responded with a nod. 

"I'll put her on fluids, wrap her in a heated blanket. She'll be fine," she answered Boone's question before he opened her mouth. "And you, adeul? You're looking paler than usual." 

"Coming down from the same thing." 

She tisked at us both. "Come, come, we'll eat. We'll rest. Then, you leave." 

"Can we leave the kids here?" 

"My grandbabies are always welcome. Cops? Not so much."