Red Jade Read Online Free PDF

still caught her negative thoughts directed at his gun and shield.
    “And I can’t do it,” Alex added.
    Jack gave her a puzzled look.
    “I’ve got two cases already,” she continued. “Plus I’ll be in Seattle during the hearings.”
    “Seattle?” asked Jack.
    “The CADS are invited to ORCA’s annual awards gala,” Alex said distractedly.
    CADS was the Chinese-American Defense Squad, Alex’s clever little acronym for her group of eight Chinese lawyers, a judge, and a half-dozen paralegal misfits who nevertheless knew how to make the system sing. They’d taken on some police brutality beefs and a few controversial discrimination cases, and had won convincingly.
    ORCA was the Organization for Rights of Chinese-Americans, a civil-rights organization that had eighty-eight chapters nationwide. They’d supported legal actions following the much-publicized “mistaken identity” murder of a young Chinese man in 1982 in Detroit.
    “Death by cop,” said Alex, frowning. “They kill you for pulling out a wallet. Or a cell phone, or a hairbrush. Everything looks like a gun.”
    “From what I’m hearing, it was a good shoot,” Jack reluctantly offered.
    “ Good? ” Her eyes narrowed. “He shot the kid in the head while restraining him. How can that be good?”
    “You know what I mean,” Jack said evenly. “They say the arrest was textbook, just—”
    “Only the ‘gun’ didn’t follow the textbook, huh?” She looked away.
    Jack shrugged. This was an argument he didn’t want any part of.
    “He was a straight-A kid, Jack,” said Alex, unrelenting, “the kind of kid every parent wishes their child could be.” She sighed, and there was an awkward silence between them.
    He’d chosen a bad time to visit but was glad he was able to bring something sweet into Alex’s frustrating and melancholy morning. He surprised her by setting the bag of Tofu King desserts on her desk, and saw her face brighten momentarily.
    “I’m not sure how to take this,” she said, opening one of the plastic containers of bok tong go .
    “How’s that?” puzzled Jack.
    “Well, the only time you come out here,” she said as she bit into one of the spongy white sweets, “is when something bad brings you to Chinatown.”
    Jack took a deep breath. He was silent a moment while the images of a dead Chinese couple did a jump cut in his mind.
    “What is it this time?” Alex asked, her big eyes cautiously looking up at him.
    Abruptly, Jack asked, “What do you think about postpartum depression?”
    “Excuse me?” she said as she leaned back in her chair.
    “I mean here, in Chinatown,” Jack explained. “Among Chinese-speaking immigrants? Do they believe in it? Or get treatment for it?”
    Alex realized Jack wasn’t kidding. “Well, the younger generation knows about it. The health clinic distributes brochures in Chinese. And they have outreach programs.”
    “And the older generation?” He watched her finish off the sweet. “Do they dismiss it? Like it’s a myth?”
    Alex leaned forward and folded her arms across the top of her desk. Jack glanced away to avoid staring at the soft curves of her cleavage.
    “The old folks have a traditional spin on it,” she said. “They use herbs and soups. Certain foods to rebalance the mother’s body, knowing how the body and mind are linked.”
    “Right,” Jack realized. “An unbalanced mind explains why a mother might hurt her own children.”
    Alex studied Jack’s face before asking, “You’re here on behalf of dead children again?”
    “No,” he answered. “Just looking for some clarity….” He wanted to change the subject. “So, you ever make it down to the pistol range?”
    The thought of guns sobered her, brought her back to the realities of crime on these Lower East Side streets.
    “Twice,” she answered.
    “How’d it go?”
    “I’m a regular Annie Oakley now, okay?”
    “Yeah, right.” Jack grinned.
    Her desk phone rang and Jack waved good-bye to her