She made a note on her page. “When we go to Chinatown tomorrow, what are we looking for exactly? When I lived in China, I never noticed anything that seemed peculiar or suspicious when I was in the marketplace. I don’t know if there simply weren’t opium dens where I lived, or if I was too naïve to recognize what I was seeing.”
“Not every marketplace has opium dens,” Jed replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking off his shoes again. He’d somewhat resented having to put them back on to go down to the lobby—he preferred being shoeless as much as possible, but that opportunity didn’t come around as often as he liked. “It’s possible that you never saw one. As far as tomorrow goes, we’re watching for anyone who seems to be walking crookedly, perhaps running into things. They’ll look drunk, but they won’t have the smell of whiskey about them. Instead, they’ll have a thick, flowery aroma hovering around them. They act harmless and mellow, completely unaware of what’s going on around them.”
“That’s as they’re leaving the dens,” Lucy said. “Is there a way to identify someone who’s going to a den so we can follow them there?”
“They may appear agitated or in a hurry. We can’t just assume that every agitated person is on their way to a den, though.”
“Of course not, but it gives us a good place to start.” Lucy set her pen down. “When will dinner be here?”
“Any minute.”
“Great. And then let’s go to bed early, all right? I don’t know what it is about taking the train, but I always feel drained afterward, like all the energy has been sucked right out of me.”
“No complaints here.”
After the meal was brought and they had eaten, Jed set the tray of dishes back out in the hall as instructed, and they got ready for bed. There wasn’t a screen this time, but there was a closet, and they made use of it like a tiny dressing room.
“You wanted this side, right?” Jed asked, and Lucy nodded. He pulled back the covers on his side and climbed in, careful not to take up more than his fair share of either bed or blankets, and didn’t look as she crossed the room and climbed in beside him.
Her presence was warm and soft, and it was also comforting. He could imagine having her at his side for quite a long time, and that thought both pleased him and worried him. As an agent, he could be killed at any time, and he disliked the idea of leaving behind a widow and possibly children. A married man should have a safer job, like the desk clerk he’d pretended to be when he first met Lucy. He couldn’t imagine giving up his job, but the more time he spent with Lucy, the more he realized that he didn’t want to give her up, either. So much to think about, and so many thoughts that circled through his end in a never-ending loop. He needed to sleep—sleep would give him clarity.
He hoped.
***
Lucy wasn’t sure at first that she’d be able to sleep with someone else in the bed—especially when that someone else was a man. She couldn’t think of him as a stranger anymore, but his man-ness hadn’t changed over the last two days. She thought she’d feel awkward and embarrassed, but having him there was like a solid wall of strength, and she found herself feeling protected instead. She had no doubt that he would behave like a gentleman all night long, and she could relax into that knowledge.
The next morning, they ate a full breakfast, not knowing how long they’d be exploring the town with Mr. Collins and what food would be available. Neither of them had seen Chinatown, and while they’d heard it was large and there were restaurants, they decided not to take too many chances that first day.
At the appropriate time, they headed out and waited across the street for Mr. Collins to exit his hotel. When he did, they followed at a distance, and Lucy felt her heart start to beat faster. She was actually tailing a witness on her very first case. It was every bit as exciting as she’d thought it would be, but she forced herself to look calm. She was a professional now, and she needed to look it.
As they walked, Jed took her hand in his. At first, she startled, but then she realized that it was part of their cover—being a young newlywed couple in love. It would seem odd indeed if they never touched or showed any sign of affection. She relaxed, and as she allowed herself to feel more comfortable about it, she noticed that some of those same tingling sensations she’d felt the day before were returning, shooting up her arm like a pleasant buzz.
Mr. Collins turned into a street that was lined with banners, signs in Chinese, and small children, and Lucy’s attention immediately went from Jed to her surroundings. Oh, this was so familiar to her. She’d never been here before, but it looked so much like the places she’d lived that she was homesick for China all of a sudden.
“There’s one,” Jed muttered at her elbow, and she looked ahead to see Mr. Collins flicking his fingers at the entry to a silk shop. She made note of the name and location in her mind.
A few shops down the street, Mr. Collins tipped his head the other direction, and Lucy saw a tea establishment.
By the time they reached the end of their little tour, Lucy’s head was filled to the brim with information, but she believed she’d be able to remember everything. It helped that she was so familiar with the surroundings and she wasn’t having to acclimate to the language in order to remember the names of the shops.
Mr. Collins then returned to his hotel, and after waiting several minutes, Jed and Lucy entered the hotel as well, meeting Mr. Collins in his room.
Lucy immediately sat down with a piece of paper and wrote down everything she remembered.
“You see, my memory simply isn’t that good,” Mr. Collins said, watching over her shoulder. “And you learned Chinese much better than any of the rest of us, my dear.”
“Then I’m in the right place at the right time,” she replied, giving him a smile. “Were you able to find the boy you hired to guide Mrs. Collins?”
“No, and that troubles me,” Mr. Collins said, taking a seat and crossing one leg over the other. “He generally runs errands up and down the street and is always easy to locate, but I didn’t see him anywhere today.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen him in days. Not since Delphine disappeared.”
“Then they must be related,” Lucy said. “There’s no other explanation for it.” Their first good clue—her heart started pounding again.
“What was his name?” Jed asked.
“It was something unpronounceable, so I called him Tommy,” Mr. Collins replied.
Lucy tried to hide her disappointment. Just as quickly as her hope had risen, it was smashed again. They’d never be able to find the boy if all they had to go on was a nickname that only the Collins’ used.
“How old is he? Does he have any distinguishing characteristics? How tall?” Jed asked.
“I’d say he’s about twelve, and he stands around five feet tall. There’s not a lot I can tell you by way of a verbal description—it would be so much easier if I had a photograph of him.”
Lucy pressed her lips together. This conversation was becoming more unhelpful by the minute. How many twelve-year-olds had they seen just that day milling up and down the streets of Chinatown? How many of them were five feet tall? Of course he would have black hair and dark eyes—that was a given. What made him stand out? What could they use to identify him without a photograph?
“I often saw him near the last tapestry shop on the street, the last business I pointed out to you,” Mr. Collins said after a moment.
There—that was something. It gave them a place to start their inquiries.
“Lucy and I will go back out tomorrow and visit every place you indicated,” Jed said. “We’ll also see if we can locate Tommy. Keep your chin up, sir. We’re going to do our absolute best.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Collins said, his voice tired. “I frequently wonder if we’re too late, if something permanent has happened to her.”
“We can’t think that way,” Lucy jumped in. “We must keep up hope. Yes, every day that goes by is another day that she’
s in danger, but if she’s in a den, she’s warm and safe. She’s not out on the street or lost—she’s only lost to us, and we’ll find her.”
Mr. Collins nodded. “I’ll keep up the faith. I owe her my every happiness in life—I’m not giving up on her now.”
“Good. She’ll need that positivity. And tomorrow, we’re going to learn some new information, and we will come a step closer.” Lucy met his gaze. “I promise.”
She didn’t know how she was going to make it happen, but she would keep her promise.
Chapter Twelve
Lucy had difficulty sleeping that night. She was now used to Jed being so close by, so that wasn’t bothering her—it was her anxiety over the case. She knew things like this took time, but she didn’t feel time was something they had. She wanted to go to Chinatown and rip apart every single building with her bare hands until she found Mrs. Collins. And she didn’t even want to consider the possibility that they were barking up the wrong tree and Mrs. Collins wasn’t even in Chinatown. If that was the case, who knew when or if they’d find her?
When Jed woke up, Lucy was already dressed and ready to head out. He sat up in bed and studied her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not sure.” She turned to look at him, her mood changing drastically as she caught sight of his hair, which was sticking up in every direction. “I’m eager to get going, but not until you’ve combed your hair.”
He passed one hand over his head. “Yeah, I should do something about that. I’ll be quick, though—I can see that you’re antsy to be on our way.”
Within minutes, they were having a little bit of breakfast in the hotel dining room, and then they were on their way to Chinatown. Just as before, Lucy saw quite a number of Chinese children running around, their little faces beaming, and she also noticed several tourists, their arms loaded with parcels. Among them all was one man walking along by himself, carrying no parcels of any kind, and he wasn’t looking from side to side. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and he was in a hurry to get there.
She nudged Jed with her elbow and nodded up ahead. He returned her nod, and together they watched as the man entered a building marked Lee’s Laundry.
“He wasn’t carrying any laundry,” Lucy said in an undertone.
“Let’s watch and see if he brings any out,” Jed replied.
They busied themselves examining some tapestries across the way, but the man didn’t come back out. “It’s been fifteen minutes,” Lucy said at last. “How long does it take to pick up laundry?”
“Not fifteen minutes. I need to have some shirts done—we’ll come back later and drop them off.”
They continued on their way, stopping in at each of the places Mr. Collins had indicated. Lucy didn’t notice anyone acting strangely at these establishments, and she hoped it wasn’t obvious that she was sniffing the air. She felt so inexperienced, trying to decide which smells were ordinary and which weren’t. She wished she could get a good whiff of opium just once so she’d know for certain what she was looking for.
At lunchtime, they found a small restaurant tucked between two other businesses, and Lucy sank into her chair gratefully. She was used to walking, but she’d done so much of it over the last couple of days that her feet were more than ready for a break.
Their waitress, a dainty young lady wearing a blue silk jacket, came up to their table, and Jed addressed her. She looked at him curiously, and Lucy smiled.
“You’re speaking Mandarin,” she whispered. “They speak Cantonese here.”
Jed’s face turned a shade of red. “Cantonese?”
“Yes. Many Chinese speak both, but there are those who don’t.”
He shook his head, clearly embarrassed. “Would you help me?”
“Of course.”
Lucy placed their order, and the waitress gave a quick bow before hurrying off.
Jed still looked as though he’d been caught in public without a shirt. “All this time I’ve been studying Mandarin . . .”
“It wasn’t wasted—millions of people speak Mandarin.”
“But not here.” He sighed, then smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Lucy. In more ways than one, you’re keeping me from looking like an idiot.”
“Oh, come on now. If it makes you feel any better, your Mandarin is pretty good.”
“It’s just the wrong language altogether.”
“There’s that.” She grinned. “Look at it from my perspective. You’re really good at your job, and I’ve been following along like a puppy in your shadow. This is one way I can actually help.”
“You’re helping a lot. I’d say we were matched well.”
As partners, or as a couple? Lucy was tempted to ask, but she reminded herself that she wasn’t going to think about their relationship. That was a reminder she was having to give herself more and more often.
The waitress brought their soup, and then the remainder of their meal, and Lucy breathed in the aromas. “I’ve missed this,” she said after tasting the soup. “When we first arrived in China, I didn’t think I’d be able to stand the food, but then I grew to love it. It’s so different from the pot roast and potatoes I grew up eating.”
“I’ve eaten in the Denver Chinatown a few times, but this is far better.” Jed motioned toward the soup.
They finished their meal, then continued their exploration of the area. When they reached the tapestry shop Mr. Collins had indicated, Jed looked around on the street outside before entering.
“I think we should inquire about hiring a boy to run errands for us,” he said to Lucy. “Could you ask about that, please?”
She nodded, then moved up to the counter to speak with the woman who oversaw the shop. The woman shook her head and told Lucy there were no children available.
Jed and Lucy looked around a few more minutes, then exited the shop.
“There are children all over the place,” Lucy said. “And they make extra pocket money hiring out to tourists—why would she say that?”
“Because she has something to hide,” Jed replied. “We have some plans to make, Mrs. Green. Let’s go back to the hotel and decide what we’re going to do.”
***
“So, what do we know?” Jed asked, sitting on the edge of the bed with his notebook ready. He’d always found it helpful to write things out—it helped him decide what to do next, and also to identify patterns in behavior or events.
“We know that a man entered the laundry and didn’t come back out—at least for a long time,” Lucy replied. “He wasn’t local to Chinatown, either. He was clearly part German or Scandinavian.”
“We also know that the woman in the tapestry shop isn’t being truthful about hiring out children,” Jed added. “You say it’s a common practice?”
“Oh, yes. The children will carry packages or take messages—they’ll often approach tourists on the street and ask for work.”
Jed paused in writing that down. “Maybe we shouldn’t be asking the adults about Tommy. Maybe we should be asking the children.”
Lucy grinned. “That’s an excellent idea. Write that down.”
He did. “I didn’t notice anything out of place in the other shops, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t continue to keep our eyes open. With your language skills, any eavesdropping you’d care to do will come in handy.”
“We tipped our hand to that waitress, though, when we spoke to her,” Lucy pointed out. “Do you think word will get around about that?”
“I hope not.” At the time, he’d thought it would be nice to order in Chinese, but now he wondered if they’d ruined their cover. He’d been too impetuous. If he was really being honest with himself, he’d wanted to show off for Lucy, and that hadn’t panned out well at all.
Pride was never a good idea.
“When we head out again, I’ll bring along my shirts, and we’ll visit the laundry.” Jed stood up and stretched. “We’ve done some good work today, Agent Green.”
Lucy smiled. “
Shouldn’t that be agent-in-training?”
“Takes too long to say. Let’s go find some dinner.”
***
After they ate, Jed and Lucy went for a walk along the wharf, her hand tucked securely through his arm. She liked being next to him like this, feeling his strength. It was fun to talk about everything under the sun and not just the case. In so many ways, she felt that he was becoming her best friend, and she didn’t want to look ahead at what it would mean when the case came to a close.
As it became dark, it also became chilly, and Jed put his arm around her shoulders. She willingly went into the safety of his embrace. He not only kept her warm, but he created a feeling of security, of belonging.
Almost as if he could read her thoughts, he tightened his arm and gave her a little squeeze.
When they reached their room, Jed touched her hand, and she paused next to him in the hallway.
“I don’t want to take this inside with us,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. “It would complicate things too much. But . . .”
She looked up into his eyes and found herself caught in them again. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers once, then again, and without realizing what she was doing, she took a step closer.
His hands slid around her waist, and he continued to kiss her softly and gently. After a moment, he let her go, but his gaze captured her again. “Thank you for a lovely night.”
She could barely find words. “No, thank you.”
They went inside, and they both pretended that nothing had happened. Jed was right—it would complicate things too much to admit to having feelings. It was foolish, though, to pretend those feelings didn’t exist at all, not when they were so real and so electric, they sizzled and zapped and burned.
Chapter Thirteen
Jed and Lucy walked into the laundry the next day with a bundle of Jed’s shirts. The older woman behind the counter took them and scribbled a note with the quantity. “Your name?” she asked in broken English.
An Agent for Lucy Page 9
