16

BY THE TIME DAVID AND INVESTIGATOR LO REACHED THE compound, the festivities were in full swing. A podium, dais, dance floor, and seating for two hundred had been set up under a canopy. Balloons swayed in the hot air. Streamers billowed from poles, and posters of Sam amp; His Friends stood on easels in a semicircle next to the dais where Henry and Doug Knight sat with Governor Sun Gan and Randall Craig. Music played from loudspeakers, and on the dance floor a group of about twenty girls dressed in colorful costumes came to the end of an acrobatic routine. The audience, which seemed to be made up almost entirely of Chinese women, politely applauded.

Sandy Newheart saw David and waved him over to the front row. As David sat down, Sandy whispered, "You're late."

"Sorry," David said. "It couldn't be helped."

The performers gathered into a little group. One of the girls stepped forward and in a loud but melodious voice announced that they would now sing a few American songs, all favorites of President Jiang Zemin. An instrumental introduction blared through the loudspeaker, and a moment later the girls were singing "Row Your Boat" in ever more complex rounds.

Sandy inclined his head toward David and said under his breath, "Practically every goddamn meeting has to have this rigmarole. Hero music. Firecrackers. Out-of-tune marching bands. Twenty-seven thousand verses of 'Jingle Bells.' Then an exchange of gifts. Then speeches. Meanwhile everyone here is roasting to death."

"Then why do it?"

"Custom."

"For Knight?"

"Hell no. It's a Chinese custom."

"Knight is an American company."

"So? This is how it's done over here. At least that's what that grease-ball Sun says. And whatever he says, old man Knight'11 do it. He's into this shit."

The last strains of the tune faded, and the girls broke into a spirited rendition of "Jingle Bells."

Sandy looked over at David and raised his eyebrows. "I told you. It's a hundred and fifty degrees in the shade, and they're singing about snow."

"Are they employees?"

Sandy shook his head. "They're a local performing troupe. I've probably seen them five times in the three years I've been here."

David jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. "And them? Are those all of your employees?"

"You kidding? No, they're just the women from the Administration Building."

"Why aren't the others here?'

"Henry wants a show, not a convention."

This was the first time David had been alone with Sandy. With Henry Knight he played the sycophant, but alone he seemed not only disillusioned but like he wanted to complain.

" Sandy, what are you going to do after the acquisition?"

"When the old man asked me to come out here, I thought it would be a big adventure. But look at this place. It's a hellhole in more ways than one. As soon as I got here, I called Henry and said I wanted to go home. But Henry was sick, so what could I do? He said he needed me to make Sam amp; His Friends a reality. The deal with the studio had been cemented and the prototypes were ready. Henry practically begged me to stay on until we'd gotten the first line out. Toys are a crazy product. You do a hundred lines and if you're lucky-really lucky-one hits. Well, Sam hit. I've been with Knight for fifteen years, and we've never had anything like this craze. I've tried to look at it as my big opportunity."

The girls had now broken into four groups and were skipping in little circles, imitating horses drawing sleighs. Sandy wiped the sweat off his face and neck with a handkerchief, and said, "I've given the company fifteen years, and now they're selling. For all I know, I'll be out of a job by the end of the month. The only good news is that I'll be able to leave this godforsaken place."

The girls finished their song with a loud "Hey!" They bowed to the audience and to the men on the dais, then walked in a straight line off the dance floor. Henry Knight, beaming and clapping, stood and walked to the podium.

"Thank you, Number Seventeen Shanxi Province Acrobatic Company! You have, as always, done a beautiful job. Let's all give them another hand!" He stepped aside and continued to clap, while Madame Leung translated his words into Mandarin. Behind David the women increased their applause. Henry resumed his position. "Today we have with us Randall Craig from Tartan International. Very soon I will turn the company over to him. But don't worry. My son will be here, and things will continue on as smoothly as they have since we opened."

As Madame Leung translated, David glanced over at Sandy. He could read nothing from Sandy 's expression, except perhaps boredom.

Henry continued, thanking Governor Sun Gan for years of help. Sun stood, bowed, accepted a loud round of applause, then sat down again. Then Henry launched into an introduction of Tartan, but it was so hot even under the canopy that David doubted anyone was listening. Finally Randall Craig stood and joined Henry at the podium. They shook hands, then motioned for Sun to join them. Just as Sandy predicted, there was a three-way exchange of plaques. At twelve sharp the ceremony ended. Military marching music came blaring out of the speakers, and the women in the audience quickly left their seats and hustled back to the Administration Building. The sweating Knight contingent was introduced to the equally sweating and wilting Tartan contingent; then Henry announced loudly, "Everyone please follow me. It's time for lunch and something cold to drink."

The group entered the Administration Building and went to the conference room, where, as Henry had promised, lunch was laid out. There were soft drinks with ice (made from sterilized water, or so Henry said), potato chips, and a platter of sandwiches. Looking around, David saw Governor Sun deep in conversation with one of the Tartan people. Henry, Doug, and Randall grabbed plates and took spots at the table. This lunch would be immediately followed by a tour of the compound-a sanitized tour, David was sure of it. As much as he wanted to ask these men questions, he was simply going to have to wait for a more private opportunity.

At one o'clock the bell rang in the factory. Before the machines had fully wound down, the women began filing out of the room. Hulan, Peanut, Siang, and hundreds of other women emerged out into the sunshine and headed back toward the dormitory. The festival was over and so completely cleared away that, except for a few eddies of spent firecrackers that had yet to be swept up, the courtyard seemed back to normal. Hulan had expected an air of release, but the women just seemed tired after their week's work. Once inside, Siang ducked into her room, while Hulan and Peanut continued on to theirs. Hulan pulled out the bag she'd brought with her on Thursday and slung it over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Peanut asked. "I thought you weren't from here."

"I'm not, but you know I have a friend in the village. I can stay with her."

"I wish I had somewhere to go," Peanut said as she stripped off her pink smock, threw it on the floor, and climbed up to her bunk.

"At least you can come to the village," Hulan said. "Get a bowl of noodles, walk around."

"I've seen that village. What's there? Nothing I haven't seen a hundred times before in my own village. No, I'd rather stay here and save my money." Peanut sighed and rolled over to face the wall. "See you later."

Hulan stared at Peanut's back, knowing that she probably wouldn't be returning. "Okay," she said, then added, "take care of yourself."

Without turning, Peanut held up an arm and waved as if to push Hulan out the door. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Back in the courtyard, the men who worked in the warehouse waited for the gate to open, while about fifty women and girls boarded the bus, their attitude very different from those left behind. Going back to their families, if even for a day and a half, gave them a buoyancy, a sense of expectation. Hulan took the seat next to Siang, and the bus drove out of the compound. Neither spoke and Hulan chose not to push it.

Just outside Da Shui Village several barefoot children waited for their mothers. After a flurry of hugs, they set off toward their homes, perhaps stopping at the meat shop to pick up a few slivers of pork with their hard-earned salaries. Siang said good-bye and turned down one of the alleyways. Hulan adjusted her bag on her shoulder, then hurried back onto the road.

A half hour later, she cut down into a cornfield. She called out that she was there, and Suchee called back so that Hulan might come toward her voice. A minute later they were face to face. Suchee's shirt was wet with sweat, and her face was streaked with the red earth that had dusted up as she'd hoed a furrow.

"I go back to Beijing today to follow the story," Hulan plunged in. "Before I leave, I want to see Miaoshan's belongings from the factory and ask you a few more questions."

Suchee set down her hoe and led the way along the furrow back to the house. From under Miaoshan's kang Suchee pulled out a small, unopened cardboard box. "The factory sent a message to me through the men in the village that I should go and pick this up," Suchee said, holding the box on her lap. "I haven't opened it." Her lips trembled, then she brusquely set the box down and went outside.

Hulan found a knife and slit open the tape that held the box closed. On the top was folded a black miniskirt and a little lace blouse. The label said THE LIMITED, and Hulan had a vague memory of that chain of mall stores in California. She set these aside and pulled out a pair of Lucky Brand jeans and a T-shirt with a Wal-Mart tag. She'd seen these T-shirts before, since they were manufactured in China and often pirated out of factories by employees or the seconds were sold off in free markets, but the jeans brand was new to her and she wondered where they'd come from. Unzipping a toiletry bag, Hulan found a toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush, gel, and hairspray, Maybelline mascara and eye shadow, and a bottle of White Shoulders perfume. Then she flipped through several glossy magazines filled with colorful photographs, looking for hidden papers or notes but encountering none. Some underwear littered the bottom of the box. Tucked into the sea of cotton was something wrapped in tissue and tied with silk ribbon. Hulan opened the package and found a bra and panty set of pink silk edged with black lace. Things like this could certainly be found in China, but not in Da Shui Village or even Taiyuan. Hulan looked for the label and read NEIMAN MARCUS.

Hulan repacked the box and slid it back under the kang. She went outside, stopping at the shed to pick up a hoe, and waded into the field to find Suchee. Once she reached her friend, she eased into the space next to her and began working the soil around the base of the corn. She hadn't done this in more than twenty years, but the movement came back to her as though it had been yesterday-the chop into the soil, the quick jerk to lift it up, and then going back into the mound to aerate. Occasionally she bent down to pull out a weed. Soon sweat ran down her face, and the hand that had been punctured throbbed. Her shoulders, already sore from the factory, burned from a combination of her exertions and the sun's rays coming through her cotton shirt. She knew her discomfort was compounded by her pregnancy, but at the same time realized that peasant women never stopped working for such an insignificant reason. At the end of the furrow, the two women crossed over to the next row and bent once again to their labors. Hulan's mind was filled with questions she wanted to ask, but she was reticent, not knowing how to bring up Miaoshan's sexual activities. But soon enough Hulan lost awareness of proper conduct, time, and even of the heat as she glided into the ancient rhythm of human and soil.

Two hours later, as they reached the end of yet another row, Suchee stepped out of the field to where she'd left a basket. She set down her hoe, squatted down on her haunches, and motioned for Hulan to join her. Suchee reached into the basket and pulled out a thermos. She poured hot tea into the tin cup that served as the thermos top and handed it to Hulan. The bitter green liquid cut through the dust that coated her throat. She gave the cup back to Suchee, who noisily sipped the last of the liquid, then refilled the cup.

Hulan looked at her hands. On Thursday morning her hands had been those of a Red Princess and an investigator at the Ministry of Public Security-smooth, pale, with tapered fingernails. After three days in the countryside her hands were scratched, her nails cracked and ragged, and her palms a mass of broken and unbroken blisters. The bandage that covered the deep gouge was caked with dirt but still protected the wound, which hadn't stopped throbbing. Hulan longed for the cool shower she knew awaited her at the hotel, at the same time realizing that Suchee would never waste water on such a frivolous luxury. Hulan remembered back years ago to the Red Soil Farm and how in the morning people would wash their faces and brush their teeth in the communal water trough, then return at night to wash their hands, faces, feet, and teeth in the same water, which was changed only every three or four days.

"You have questions about Miaoshan," Suchee said at last, "but your manners keep you from asking them. You should know that the customs regarding visitors and etiquette no longer matter to me now that my daughter is dead."

"I've heard things about Miaoshan that trouble me," Hulan said. "You say she was to be married, and yet I hear of other men."

"There were no other men. Miaoshan loved Tsai Bing."

No mother wanted to hear what Hulan was going to say, but she relied on the fact that Suchee had insisted that she wanted the truth at whatever the cost. "I have met a man, Guy Lin, who says he is the father of Miaoshan's baby. I believe him. Did she ever mention him to you?"

Suchee turned her head away to face into the green of the field as though she had not heard.

"There is also a girl at the factory who says that Miaoshan was meeting with a foreigner." Hulan had used a euphemism, but the meaning was clear. "I believe this girl, especially when I add it to what I found among Miaoshan's belongings. You said that Miaoshan dressed like a foreigner. I hadn't thought this that important. So many of our young women-no, so many women in all of China -now dress to copy Westerners. But I was thinking of the clothes that we make here to look like clothes from the West, not the real thing. Even in Beijing I would have trouble finding the type of nu zai ku-'cow boy pants'-that Miaoshan had."

Suchee opened her mouth to speak, but Hulan held up a hand to stop her.

"There is more. In the box in your house I found perfume, panties, and a bra. These are not from our country. These are foreign. You might even say corrupt. There can only be one explanation: The foreigner gave these things to Miaoshan. I have a guess about who this was. Did Miaoshan ever talk to you about Aaron Rodgers?"

Suchee shook her head, but still kept her eyes averted. Her fingers began to fret the hem of a pant leg.

"What about Manager Red Face?" Hulan asked.

Again Suchee shook her head.

"Another name has also come up," Hulan continued. "It is that of your neighbor Tang Dan."

Suchee slowly rotated her face to Hulan. Her eyes were filled with pain and anger. "That is a lie."

"Tell me," Hulan said.

"Tang Dan is my neighbor. I was a friend of his wife's. She helped me when Miaoshan was born."

"But Tang Dan is a widower now."

"Yes," Suchee acknowledged, "and perhaps for that reason he is looking for a new wife."

"Miaoshan?"

Suchee chortled. "Tang Dan is old enough to be Miaoshan's father."

"Which would only show his strength and virility in the village."

"And that is why he has asked me to marry him?"

Hulan was not surprised by the news. "How many times have you said no?"

"He asked me for the first time five years ago, just as Miaoshan finished middle school. I considered it. Tang Dan is a wealthy man in our county. Our lands would have been consolidated. I thought this would give Miaoshan a better opportunity to continue her education. You always said that an education was important for women. Remember how you taught me my first characters? Then, after the Cultural Revolution, people came to our village with a new campaign. It wasn't the usual political campaign that we had all grown so accustomed to. No, this time it was a campaign to educate women. Shaoyi encouraged me and I was one of the first women from our county to join. We began with Chinese, but very soon they introduced us to English ABCs. The government said it was important for us to learn the foreigner's language as well as our own. I thought, if this is so, our country must truly be changing. And if it is changing, then Miaoshan must be a new kind of girl for our new country."

All this seemed very far off the track, but Hulan let Suchee continue for now.

"Very few children in this area go on to high school, because they're needed on the land," Suchee said "But Miaoshan was never much for physical work, and my place is so small that I really didn't need her help every day. Of course, I could have used her hands for watering, but she complained so that I thought she was just like her father. She was born to be a scholar, not a peasant. For her ninth-grade year she was one of only two children from our village accepted to high school. She accomplished that on her own. We didn't need Tang Dan for help, but this didn't stop him from asking if we needed it. Four years later, when Miaoshan graduated, I once again considered accepting Tang Dan's proposal. I don't know if you can understand this, Hulan. When I say he is wealthy, it may not seem so to you by your counting, but he is the first man in our county to become a millionaire."

Hulan told Suchee that Siang had said her father warn't a millionaire.

"Tang Dan isn't going to discuss his business affairs with his daughter," Suchee insisted.

"But he would with you."

Suchee grunted. "I have been alone here for many years. I have relied on no one. I have raised and slaughtered animals. I have bought my own seed and tilled my soil. I have hired people to help me during harvest, but I have sold all of my produce myself. Tang Dan and I understood each other."

"So you discussed his money?" Hulan asked skeptically.

"Liu Hulan, look around you. There is nothing here but hard work. Oh, people can go to the village and watch television in the cafe. Some people, like Tang Dan, even have their own television sets. But what do half-naked American girls bouncing their big breasts in their biji nis have to do with me?" Hulan understood that Suchee was talking about Baywatch, a show very popular in China for its bikini-clad actresses. "For young people like Miaoshan, Tsai Bing, and Siang, they see a paradise that they want to be a part of. For old people like me, I think it only makes people dream of things they can never have."

"You're not old."

Suchee frowned and said, "We are the same age, yes, but look at you. You are just starting your life. I am ending mine."

Hulan could have denied all this; instead she asked, "What about Tang Dan?"

"For many years-since his wife's death and Shaoyi's death-we have met. It has only been talk, and most of that has been about our regrets. Tang Dan and I grew up in the same area, but our lives were almost as different as yours and mine. Even though we had both been born after Liberation, our families had held on to old ways and customs, as was the case in the countryside. As a boy he was well fed and spoiled. As a girl I was seen as merely a visitor to our family home. My father treated me very badly. I wasn't given food or a place to sleep in the house. My mother could do nothing about it, because she had been sold to my father by her father for only a iew yuan during a famine. When the Cultural Revolution came, everything changed."

Having heard Slang's version of these events, Hulan listened carefully for any discrepancies, but the story was still the same. Tang Dan's family had been destroyed, and he'd spent years in a labor camp.

"But for me those early years of the Cultural Revolution were glorious," Suchee continued. "I couldn't imagine being so happy. I was sent to the Red Soil Farm to teach people like you. I was away from the suffocation of the village. I was fed. I remember how the city kids complained about the food, but that was the first time in my life that I'd had three meals in a day, and that happened every day, week after week, month after month. Then everything changed again. By the end of the Cultural Revolution, I was married to someone with a bad record and Tang Dan had his own black mark. So for the first time Tang Dan and I had something very much in common."

Suchee described their lives. The birth of children. The cycling of the seasons. The famines and droughts. The deaths of their spouses. And the never-ending drudgery of eking a living from the soil. But unlike Suchee's farm, Tang Dan's land had flourished beneath his hard work. "I try to keep up with my land," she explained. "The soil is good, but it's hard for me to do the watering alone. Since he got rich, Tang Dan has been able to hire many men to help him with his watering and caring."

All this hadn't stopped the villagers from gossiping about the Tangs. "They said the Tang family hid its gold and only dug it up again when they knew it was safe. What nonsense!" Suchee sniffed indignantly. "I saw him work. The Tsai family saw him work. His wealth comes from his own efforts, but it is something that he doesn't discuss, not even with his own daughter." Suchee hesitated, then added, "Especially with his own daughter."

"Why?"

"For two reasons. First, like so many young people in our village, she has become greedy for the outside world. Tang Dan doesn't want to pay for such foolishness! And second, he has been negotiating with a family for almost two years now over a bride price and dowry. He doesn't want to pay more than he has to."

So many of these customs were outdated, even forbidden, but that didn't stop them from persisting in the countryside far from the watchful eyes of the central government.

"You would have married Tang Dan for love or because he was rich?" Hulan asked.

"Love? I have great respect for Tang Dan and I would have done my woman duty, but the only reason I would have married him was because I thought he would send Miaoshan to English teacher's school or maybe to Beijing University."

Taken aback by this revelation, Hulan asked, "Could she have qualified?"

Suchee went back to fretting the hem of her pants. "She didn't apply. She said she would do it on her own with no help, which was a good thing, because as soon as Miaoshan graduated, Tang Dan no longer asked me to marry him and I couldn't very well ask him."

"But he has asked you again."

Suchee nodded. "Since Miaoshan's death he has asked me several times. He says I shouldn't be alone. He says that once Siang is married away to another village, he will be completely alone too. But I have said no. He says it's okay if we don't have sex. He understands that I grieve for my daughter. But I still said no. Last night when you were here, he said that he would buy my land. That way I could leave this place of unhappy memories. He said he would pay me enough that I could move to Taiyuan City and be comfortable for the rest of my life. I thanked him for his friendship, but I had to say no to that as well. I'm an end-of-the-liner now. All I have left are my memories. The good ones and the bad ones are here, not in Taiyuan City. To leave this place would be to say good-bye to my life."

What was brutally obvious to Hulan seemed invisible to Suchee. During the period that Miaoshan had come home, Tang Dan had probably turned his full attention to her. For whatever reason, she'd rejected him. Now that Miaoshan was gone-and the thought that Tang Dan might have killed Miaoshan for refusing him weighed heavily on Hulan's mind-he once again zeroed in on Suchee. Miaoshan was beautiful and young, and, as Hulan had already said to Suchee, that was reason enough for any man of a certain age. But what was his interest in Suchee? The saying went: A family without a woman is like a man without a soul. But Tang Dan, as a millionaire, could have any woman he wanted. He could even buy a young girl from a neighboring province to prove his virility to the village. Why then would he chose a prematurely aged peasant who didn't have many years left in her? The only answer, it seemed to Hulan, was that Tang Dan wanted something from the Ling family. Hulan decided to tuck this line of inquiry away for now, as she had other, more important questions she needed to ask about Miaoshan.

"Your daughter was trying to organize the women in the factory," Hulan pressed on. "Did you know about that?"

Cicadas whirred about them. The air hung thick as porridge.

"She wanted the women to strike for better conditions," Suchee acknowledged at last. "That-and not some man-is the reason she stayed at the factory on weekends."

"You knew this, but you didn't tell me?"

"I thought if you knew my daughter was a troublemaker, you wouldn't come. It is your job to punish troublemakers, not help them."

Hulan didn't know how to respond to the truth of her friend's statement. Instead she said, "I need to know exactly what Miaoshan was doing."

"I'll tell you what I know. Miaoshan was smart, smart like you. But she didn't have your opportunities. I was proud of her, but that was never enough. 'A mother is supposed to be proud/ she used to say. 'What does it matter if you are proud of me?' Do you know the old proverb, 'He who has a mind to beat his dog will easily find a stick'?"

Hulan hadn't heard it, but she understood the meaning. Miaoshan had been an angry person who had wanted to strike out. But as a poor but intelligent peasant girl, she had little opportunity either to use her brains or to strike out. Knight International gave her the chance.

"She would come home and say things. 'Fight selfishness! Puncture the arrogance of imperialism! Repudiate revisionism! It is right to rebel!' Oh, the slogans I heard! They cut into my heart like shards of glass."

"But those are slogans from the Cultural Revolution. Did you teach them to her?"

"Me? Never! I wanted to forget those days."

"Then where did she learn them?"

"I don't know."

"The factory? At school? From your neighbors? From Tang Dan?"

"Maybe from one, maybe from all. I don't know. But I can say this, those words frightened me, not just because of their content but because she was willing to change the meaning to suit her own purposes."

"How do you mean?"

"'A tree may wish to stand still, but the world will not subside,'" Suchee quoted.

"I remember that one. Mao meant that class struggle was unavoidable. She must have been thinking of the American owners."

"Exactly, but what scared me was that she saw herself as the wind, a wind that was so strong she would be able to blow the others along with her." Suchee repacked the thermos, stood, and picked up her hoe. "My torment is that I always viewed Miaoshan with mother eyes. Since I saw her hanging before me, I have cursed myself for refusing to see her as she truly was. My blindness prevented me from guiding her away from danger. In the end I failed as a mother, because I couldn't protect my child." With that, Suchee disappeared into the wall of green, leaving behind her a wake of rustling stalks.

Hulan didn't move. Her mind wrestled with this contradictory girl. By all accounts and on the evidence of her own belongings, Miaoshan had become increasingly Westernized. But what Suchee had just told her made Miaoshan sound like a fervent Communist of the old school. Had one of these personifications been an act? If so, which one was the real Miaoshan? In a way it didn't matter, because even with these contradictions the character of Miaoshan was emerging. In fact, Hulan understood the dead girl intimately, because at one time in her life she had been like Miaoshan. Years ago Hulan had been consumed with political fervor, with grievous consequences. Miaoshan too had been filled with a Communist zeal that could also be dangerous in the new China. She had gone to the factory and immediately understood that she could profit from it. Today Hulan could see from the wisdom and pain of time that those windows of opportunity were rare and dangerous. Like Hulan, Miaoshan had been smart and beautiful. But Miaoshan had an extra attribute: the ability to make herself beautiful for a wide variety of men with whom she could be quite persuasive. Now the question was, which of Miao-shan's amorous or political manipulations had gotten her killed?

The persistent honking of a car horn snapped Hulan back to the present. She looked at her watch, realized how late it was, then ran through the fields until she reached Suchee's little compound, where David and Investigator Lo were waiting for her.

"Where've you been?" David asked. "We've got to get to the airport."

"I'm ready," she said.

David and Lo exchanged looks that said otherwise. "You're, ah, dirty?" David said, giving up any pretext of diplomacy.

Hurriedly Hulan drew water from the well, dipped her arms in the bucket, rubbed them as clean as she could, and splashed water on her face. She threw the filthy water out on the ground and drew up another bucket of water. "Investigator Lo," she called out as she tipped her head over, "get my bag out of the trunk and put it in the car." She poured the rest of the water over her hair, shook it out, then smoothed her hair back from her forehead. "Okay," she said. "Let's go."

She called out a hasty good-bye to Suchee across the fields, then got into the car next to David. Lo stepped on the gas and they squealed down the dirt road in a cloud of dust. While Hulan rummaged through her suitcase, David recounted his pointless day. He hadn't been able to speak with Sun. The tour of the Knight compound for the Tartan entourage had gone well, meaning no cafeteria, no dormitory, and the factory itself was completely deserted. As for his conversation with Randall Craig, his other client, all he would say was that it had gone badly.

By the time he was done, Hulan had spread out on the upholstery between them a brush, a hair clip, a pair of sling-back sandals, and the silk dress she'd worn last night. "Investigator Lo, keep your eyes forward," she ordered, then slipped out of her dirty clothes and into her dress. With her hair slicked back and held in place with the clip, she looked quite chic.