“I thought you were on special assignment with…what’s his name again?”
“Cullen Archer,” Mei said with a sigh as she slipped past Chief Catherine Tanner.
“So what’s wrong? Why aren’t you two nosing around the nightclub where that courier was killed?”
Mei shook her head. “I don’t know.” Swallowing hard, she muttered, “No…I do know. It has to do with my family. Cullen—ah, he said to call him that—wants to start our investigation at my father’s gallery.”
Catherine frowned. “Surely Interpol doesn’t think—I mean, you don’t suspect your father in any way?”
“No,” Mei shot back quickly. “But…you know my relationship with my folks. I can’t march into my father’s office acting like the cop they never wanted me to be.”
“A cop is what you are, Mei Lu,” Catherine said with no softness in her tone. “It’s the career you chose. You took an oath to uphold the law, which transcends all other loyalties.” Catherine paused. “Tell Archer straight out about your concerns.”
Mei Lu nodded dutifully. It wasn’t what she’d hoped for. She’d really wanted Catherine to take her off the case—not just because of her father but because Cullen Archer made her feel more a woman and less a cop.
Dear Reader,
It’s always exciting to be asked to participate in a continuity within the Harlequin Superromance line. It means individual authors have an opportunity to work closely with fellow writers to develop a group of loosely connected stories. WOMEN IN BLUE is one of these.
My story, like the other five in this continuity, is first and foremost a love story about two people whose lives are enriched after their paths cross. Mei Lu Ling is a Houston cop attached to the White Collar Crimes division. Her family owns and operates a prestigious import and export firm dealing in high-end Asian art. She left the family business, electing instead to become a police officer. She went through the training academy with five other women; they formed close ties. The five friends understood Mei’s problems with her family and helped her cope with an ever-widening estrangement. So it came as a blow when an unforeseen situation (described in the first book of the series) caused the women to pull away from one another.
Suddenly the police chief (one of the original six “women in blue”) assigns Mei Lu to special duty as a Chinese-language translator for Cullen Archer. He’s an insurance investigator working with Interpol to break up a smuggling ring that’s moving national treasures out of China. Mei Lu is drawn to Cullen, but she initially has doubts that center on his ex-wife. Mei is also drawn to his adorable twins. Cullen, meanwhile, tries not to suspect Mei’s father or her brother of being involved. Throughout the story, events conspire to bring them together—and keep them apart.
I hope readers will want to read about all the individual struggles faced by these six friends, the WOMEN IN BLUE.
Roz Denny Fox
I love hearing from readers. You can reach me at P.O. Box 17480-101, Tucson, AZ 85731 or via my Web site,
www.korynna.com/RozFox
She Walks the Line
Roz Denny Fox
To the other five authors of WOMEN IN BLUE: Kay David, Sherry Lewis, Linda Style, Anna Adams and K.N. Casper—it’s been a treat to work with you. Likewise, my appreciation to our individual editors. This continuity has been made more cohesive thanks to your extra effort.
Books by Roz Denny Fox
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
649—MAJOR ATTRACTION
672—CHRISTMAS STAR
686—THE WATER BABY
716—TROUBLE AT LONE SPUR
746—SWEET TIBBY MACK
776—ANYTHING YOU CAN DO…
800—HAVING IT ALL
821—MAD ABOUT THE MAJOR
847—THE LYON LEGACY “Silver Anniversary”
859—FAMILY FORTUNE
885—WELCOME TO MY FAMILY
902—BABY, BABY
926—MOM’S THE WORD
984—WHO IS EMERALD MONDAY?
999—THE BABY COP
1013—LOST BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
1046—WIDE OPEN SPACES
1069—THE SEVEN YEAR SECRET
1108—SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME
1128—THE SECRET DAUGHTER
1148—MARRIED IN HASTE
1184—A COWBOY AT HEART
1220—DADDY’S LITTLE MATCHMAKER
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
MEI LU LING SHRUGGED into her shoulder holster and slid it into place. She took a moment to reflect on last Friday’s ceremony, which allowed her to walk into Houston PD headquarters a full-fledged lieutenant. Only two of her four best friends from the academy, a twenty-six-week class that now seemed a distant memory, had attended her ceremony, even though Mei had invited them all.
She’d noticed Crista Santiago at the back of the room, and Risa Taylor had popped in long enough to see Catherine Tanner, the chief, do the honors. Mei was happy her new department captain had had a court commitment, and that Catherine had volunteered to replace him. It also pleased her that two of her friends had been able to slip away from their duties. Especially Risa, considering everything she’d undergone not long ago at the hands of the internal review board. Risa and Crista were the only members of their once close-knit group who knew what it was like to struggle up the department ladder without family support. And none of Mei’s family would have put in an appearance if their lives depended on it.
But, at thirty-one, after more than six years as a cop, Mei had no regrets. She was content with her life and a career solving white-collar crime in the city where she was born and raised.
Stepping back to scrutinize her full image in the bedroom mirror, Mei rechecked her dark hair, twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. When she’d entered the academy she’d been advised to cut her waist-length hair, and she had. She’d worn a pixie cut until after leaving street patrol, because the dregs of society fought dirty, and a woman couldn’t afford to have hair a perpetrator could grab. Now, though, she worked more with “civilized” crooks.
The thought of any crook being civilized prompted an involuntary smile as she donned her trim navy jacket. Satisfied that she looked okay Mei detoured through the kitchen on her way out in order to bid her dog goodbye. He was a mixed-breed shelter rescue she’d named Foo Manchu—mostly to irritate her mother. Aun Ling disliked anything that poked fun at things Chinese. She detested her son, Stephen’s, Foo Fighter tapes. Aun collected jade and porcelain figurines of Chinese Fu dogs. Mei had always loved the collection, and as a kid had spent hours dusting it. Perhaps another reason she’d chosen the name Foo.
She checked his automatic pet feeder to make sure there was enough kibble in case her day ran late, then headed outside into a beautiful March morning. At the curb, she unlocked and climbed into an aging subcompact, a sorry-looking vehicle Mei Lu prayed would last until she could find time to test-drive and buy a new model.
Her home—half of a duplex that sat two blocks off Bellaire Boulevard in a slightly seedy part of town—and her automobile were major blights on her life, as far as her affluent parents were concerned. They lived in an upscale area known for rambling homes built on huge lots. Mei preferred her eclectic nei
ghborhood, insisting that her street was as safe as any in the city.
A fifty-minute battle through heavy traffic brought her to the police department parking garage downtown. She walked into the office early, out of habit. Few of her colleagues in her new unit were at their desks yet. Propped in the middle of hers sat a message from Chief Tanner, requesting Mei’s presence upstairs.
Mei let her mind run through cases she’d closed or passed on before leaving her old group, but she couldn’t think of one that would necessitate an urgent audience with the chief. She remained apprehensive, however, as she folded the note and hurried from the room.
It was well-known that women on the force had to take extra care to dot every i and cross every t. More so than a man working a similar case. Police departments had long been bastions of good-old-boy philosophies, so it helped that Mei and the four other women had entered the academy at a time when Catherine Tanner served as an instructor. She’d helped them avoid the pitfalls she’d had to navigate herself. Nevertheless, Mei was again reminded of Risa’s recent problems with Internal Affairs. She’d been accused of shooting her partner, which had sparked a messy investigation that had affected all their jobs. As a result, their trust in one another had shattered. Mei, Crista, Lucy Montalvo and Abby Carlton had temporarily stopped meeting for any reason. Heck, who was she kidding? The friends were still wary and scattered. Risa’s problem had caused seemingly irreparable damage to their friendship. They’d all become a lot more hesitant about confiding in peers. As well, Risa’s ordeal had left Mei Lu feeling extra worried about a summons of the type that crinkled in her pocket as she was shown into the chief’s office by Annette Hayworth, Catherine’s personal assistant.
Mei’s qualms tripled when Catherine, lacking her normal smile, rose from her desk and shut the door. Lately, everyone had sensed a greater-than-usual tension in their chief. Since Catherine made such a point of closing the door, Mei assumed this call was personal and, therefore, serious.
More uncertain than she’d ever been around the woman she considered friend and mentor, Mei hovered at the entrance. Rather than take a seat automatically, she blurted, “Has someone lodged a complaint against my promotion already?”
“What? No. Nothing of the sort.” The chief returned to her desk and motioned Mei into a chair opposite. The diamond chips in Catherine’s wedding band sparkled in the morning sun streaming through a side window. Although she’d been widowed for almost a year, the ring was one of Chief Tanner’s few feminine accessories. She was broad-shouldered but slender and her six-foot height in regulation pumps intimidated many people. Although not as a rule Mei Lu…
Mei sank into the straight-backed chair, only slightly reassured by the denial.
“I called you here to discuss a new case that’s come to my attention,” Catherine said. She picked up a yellow legal pad and thumbed back two or three pages.
“Ah. Another pillar in our community suspected of corporate crime?” Mei finally smiled. She loved digging into puzzles that, when all was said and done, amounted to fraud, embezzlement or elaborate con games. A degree in Business Administration, plus having served three years in her father’s Hong Kong office, gave her an advantage over others in her department. Mei’s background allowed her to navigate elite cocktail parties where careful listening sometimes exposed corporate wrongdoing. Many of her male colleagues stood out like sore thumbs at such events.
“This case is unusual,” Catherine continued. “It appears we have a new ring of smugglers here. Asian artifacts,” she said. “Rare pieces, I’m told.”
Mei’s stomach tightened. Her father, Michael Ling, and her brother, Stephen, bought and sold high-end Asian art. Ling Limited dealt in expensive, often one-of-a-kind, authentic Chinese works, many of them antique. Surely Catherine didn’t suspect Mei’s family of anything unethical?
“I received a call from a Brett Davis at Interpol. Cullen Archer, a patron in the Houston art world, is their local contact. Actually Archer is a notable private insurance investigator. I’m told he’s scrupulous and has a history of producing results for our foreign counterparts when it comes to tracking stolen paintings and such.”
“I’m happy to serve in any way I can,” Mei said, bowing her head. “But if Mr. Archer is so effective, how can I possibly augment his work?”
“I’m assigning you for several reasons, not the least of which is your dedication to the investigative process. I trust you implicitly and this case is classified, Mei Lu. The missing pieces are from Beijing museums. High-ranking officials stand to lose their jobs if the items aren’t located.” Catherine tore off a sheet of paper and wrote in bold, broad strokes. “This is Mr. Archer’s home address. He’s expecting you within the hour.”
“Is this more than a one-time consultation?” Rising, Mei Lu accepted the address. She felt marginally better for having heard the chief’s glowing words of praise.
“All I really know is that Archer needs a note deciphered. It’s written in Chinese. I’ll let your captain know I have you on special assignment. We’ll leave the length of time open-ended until I hear back from you or Archer.”
With her composure restored, Mei pocketed the paper and strode briskly from the office. Her last stop before leaving the station was to sign out one of the new stun guns she’d qualified on last week.
In her car, she consulted a map. The address lay within what locals called the Memorial area—elegant, older estates that screamed inherited wealth. Mei didn’t know why that surprised her. Private insurance investigators were well paid—usually ten percent of the insured value. On an item insured for a million, his cut would be a hundred grand so it stood to reason that he’d be an art patron. She hadn’t expected Mr. Archer to live this close to where she’d grown up, though. Her parents’ home was in a newer gated community. Mei Lu envisioned having to jump through all manner of security hoops to gain entry to Archer’s house.
When she found the proper coordinates and turned down a tree-lined drive, she discovered the majority of estates boasted perimeter wrought-iron fences equipped with electronic surveillance devices that allowed visitors to address someone inside via a speakerphone.
Mei pulled up to Archer’s gate and pressed the bell. A woman identifying herself as Freda answered. “Is this the home of Mr. Cullen Archer? If so, he’s expecting Lieutenant Ling.”
The woman’s response was raspy and garbled. What she repeated sounded like Lieutenant Lu. Mei assumed the woman had confused her middle and surnames which was common enough. Rather than correct her, Mei shouted, “Yes.” Like magic, the big gates swung inward on well-oiled hinges.
The house, partially hidden from the street, came into view as Mei rounded a gentle curve. She liked it immediately. It was a two-story rambling structure, the upper floors supported by stucco arches—not pillars, but wide arches forming a covered walkway that in a few months would offer shelter from the hot summer sun. The arches were repeated on a building connected to the main home by a breezeway dripping with vines. As Mei drove past a colorful bed of spring annuals, she saw a six-car garage. A similar extension directly opposite the garage was probably quarters for a housekeeper, or house manager, as many were now called.
The parklike grounds were immaculate, she noticed, worrying what the owners would think if they glanced out the tall windows and saw the wreck driven by one of Houston’s finest. Her Toyota clearly needed washing—as well as some body work, courtesy of a recent hit-and-run on her street.
Mei didn’t know if it was the opulence facing her, but something made her flip down her sunshade and check her makeup in the mirror. She wore only a smudge of shadow to accent her dark eyes, but now extracted a tube of peach gloss and swept it lightly across her lips before gathering her notebook and small square purse, which thankfully matched her tan pumps. Mei loved suits and had been happy to leave uniforms behind after her rotation on street patrol. The March weather was still pleasant enough for suits.
Vowing not to let the Archers
intimidate her, no matter how old their money, Mei slid from her car. Even at that, she dragged in a deep breath as she approached the imposing nine-foot-tall, carved wooden doors.
The bell she pressed sounded muffled by distance. No surprise there. What she didn’t expect was to have the door yanked open by a freckle-faced, red-haired woman probably in her mid-fifties. Racing back and forth behind the harried-looking woman was a gap-toothed boy in bathing trunks, dripping water all over the marble entry. A second child, this one a pigtailed girl, also in swim wear, screeched in a high-pitched voice, “Freda, shut the door! Mopsy’s gonna escape!”
The woman grabbed Mei’s elbow and jerked her inside just as the boy chortled triumphantly and dropped a brightly colored bathing towel over a huge white rabbit. The girl fell to her knees and scooped up the squirming bundle, forcing Mei to leap aside once again. The children looked almost alike, except that the boy had short-cropped hair and the girl had soaking wet braids that stuck out at odd angles.
“Phew!” The adult—the housekeeper from what Mei could deduce—scraped wisps of hair off a perspiring forehead. “I’m not even going to ask which of you rascals opened that rabbit’s cage this time. You have ten seconds to put her back before I have a chat with you-know-who.” The woman rolled her eyes elaborately to the left, and the children, faces decidedly guilty, ran up a wide curving staircase amid protests and giggles.
Mei watched their progress. She saw first one, then two long white ears and a twitching pink nose peek out from under the towel both children fought to carry.
“Excuse our chaos,” Freda murmured. “Follow me please, Lieutenant. I’ll take you to Mr. Archer. He’s in his office and said to show you right in.”
She Walks the Line (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 1
