“Yeah. Ironic that we’re just right down the road from you now.”
“Yeah, ironic.” Temple looked the place over. “Damn, this is about the same size as the monstrosity my old man built. I knew something big was back here—just never had a reason to check.”
“It might be big, but it’s home sweet home to us.”
Temple glanced at him sharply and then, sensing Nash was joking, he grinned. “So, where’re the ninja dudes? Out dismembering somebody?”
“No, they’re not here right now, but their spirit will always be with us.”
“Shit, Dillon, you sound like you drank the Asian Kool-Aid.”
“It’s not like I had a choice—unlike you, right?” said Nash.
Inside the house Nash led him down the hall to Steers’s office and knocked.
“Come.”
Opening the door Nash said, “Ms. Steers, here’s Mr. Temple.”
“Thank you.”
When Nash turned to leave, Steers said, “You are part of this meeting, Dillon-san.”
Temple shot him a glance, presumably over what she had called Nash.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Nash, and he took a seat next to Temple.
Steers sat at her desk and placed her hands in front of her. “Now that I am back in the United States, there is unfinished business.”
Temple said, “I put the CEO in place. She’s working out great.”
“I speak not of that, Mr. Temple. Let me finish.”
“Of course, sorry.” Temple glanced worriedly at Nash.
“The outstanding item is the whereabouts of Walter Nash. I spoke to you about this before you left Hong Kong and told you that finding him was a top priority. However,nothinghas been accomplished though much time has passed.”
Nash hunkered down in his chair and glanced at Temple.
“I’ve been trying,” whined Temple. “The guy just vanished like smoke. None of my PIs can find one damn thing. They’ve looked everywhere.”
“That is not good enough,” replied Steers in a sharp tone. “Hemustbe found.”
“Why is this so important?” asked Temple. “The guy’s on the run.”
“Ask yourself this question, Mr. Temple: If Mr. Nash has been exonerated from all crimes, why is he still, as you say, ‘on the run’?”
“Well, because . . .” Temple turned to Nash, who kept his gaze rigidly on Steers. “Um, well, I guess that doesn’t make sense, now that you mention it.”
“I think it makes sense in that Mr. Nash is still working with the FBI to bring me down. And if he brings me down, you go down, too, Mr. Temple—which is why I asked you here, as we have mutual interests in this matter. I have given you much leeway. Too much. That ends now.” She stood and looked down at the men. “I will give you one month to find him, Mr. Temple. And if you do not, then I cannot guarantee that something irreversibly painful to you will not occur.” She glanced at his cut-up arm. “Something immeasurably more than you have already endured.”
A tense Temple sat up straighter and said, “Well, I could use some advice on where to look. It’s been scorched earth and still nothing, other than the fact that he was at that place owned by his father’s friend.”
Steers glanced at an iPad on her desk. “This Mr. Isaiah York?”
“Right. But he’s gone underground, too. No one’s laid eyes on the guy in like forever.”
“You think they’re connected still?” asked Nash. Having been around the woman long enough, he instinctively knew that Steers did nothing without good reason. And since she had asked him to attend this meeting, she must desire his input.