She Walks the Line (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Fox, Roz Denny

  She laughed. “Building model ships is a hobby that goes back to my junior-high years. Stephen and I got the bug from one of our gardeners. My mother tossed out our collection when we left for college. I’ve never been so furious. I renewed my interest in it after I finished police training. The tedious work relaxes me. It often helps me recognize the missing pieces when I’m puzzling through a case.” She averted her eyes. “I suppose you think that’s silly.”

  Cullen picked up one of the ships. “Not silly at all. But I can’t believe you have the patience to build these. It’d take me years.”

  “The big ones do. That’s why I mostly choose little ones.” She found her face growing hot at his praise. “Shouldn’t we be going to the nightclub now? I just need to grab my purse from the bedroom.” Mei made a fluttering hand motion toward one of the two doors opening off the living room.

  “All this talent and a woman who can be ready on time? Mei Lu, you’re a wonder. I can’t understand why some lucky man hasn’t married you.” Cullen set down the ship and slapped a hand to his heart.

  His teasing grin and his remark really threw her. “I don’t like to be kept waiting. Why should I keep others?”

  “You mean that isn’t a secret mothers teach their daughters from birth. Just kidding,” he called quickly, as Mei Lu disappeared, presumably to grab her purse.

  She came back carrying a lacy shawl and a small evening clutch. “Even if that were true, Cullen, I guarantee it’d be a habit erased at the police academy. They don’t take kindly to people not showing up for classes on time. A thousand push-ups have a way of getting the point across.”

  Cullen took the shawl from her hands and draped it around her shoulders. The lace snagged on the catch to her necklace. “Oops, hold on. I don’t think you had the safety on that chain fastened.” At the outset, Cullen had noticed the single diamond teardrop resting in the hollow of Mei Lu’s throat. His mouth had gone dry at the thought of kissing his way along that chain. Now his fingers seemed all thumbs as he stood behind her. He found the strands escaping her French braid all the more enticing.

  Mei Lu’s hand flew up to touch the clasp. She went absolutely still when she encountered Cullen’s fingers already fiddling with the shawl’s entangled threads.

  “There,” he exclaimed, with a sigh. “Got it. That’s a tricky little devil. I can see why you hadn’t locked it properly.”

  “Thanks.” Mei Lu nervously ran the pear-shaped diamond back and forth along its thin gold chain. “I rarely wear jewelry. I guess it shows.”

  “It’s a shame you don’t wear it all the time,” he murmured. “You have the perfect neck and skin to showcase gems of any type or color.”

  Mei Lu blushed furiously. She bolted out the door, commanding Foo to “Stay!”

  Cullen trailed her out, waiting on the middle step while Mei locked up. He’d felt her immediate withdrawal. But he thought it odd that such an attractive woman wasn’t used to casual compliments.

  As they walked to his car and she avoided letting him place a guiding hand on her waist or elbow, he decided not only wasn’t she used to personal compliments, they made her downright uncomfortable. He felt he needed to say something—anything—to break the tension. “If I offended you, Mei Lu, I’m sorry,” he said as he opened the passenger car door and she slid inside.

  When she glanced up, their eyes met. Mei was able to read the sincerity of Cullen’s words, and that caused her greater consternation. In her home, men and women had always been reserved in the company of the opposite sex. At college, when her roommates threw themselves into dating, she’d buried herself in her books, and so had sidestepped the awkward dating stage. She’d been too busy in Hong Kong for personal pursuits. And she hadn’t been interested in going out much since joining HPD. While Cullen might be the first man to give her butterflies, the two of them were nothing more than partners. And Mei had witnessed too many messy situations between partners to want to venture into those waters.

  “W-we’re working a case together. That’s all,” she finally stammered. “There’s no need for you to pretend anything else until we get to the club.”

  Cullen closed her door. He took his time walking around the back of the BMW. A host of questions darted through his mind. Coming on to her hadn’t been something he’d set out to do. Lord knows he was aware of her tony background. He would’ve thought he’d learned that particular lesson with Jana. Why get involved with another rich, spoiled daddy’s girl?

  Somehow, though, that profile didn’t fit Mei Lu Ling.

  Seeing her home, her ordinary middle-class neighborhood, and hearing her say she understood why he didn’t want his in-laws to lavish so much on the twins, added to the impression.

  Still, she was right about their being work partners only. He’d let her appearance tonight blind him to the truth of that old adage about not mixing business with pleasure. He gave himself a stern shake as he slid into the car. After all, he had his spotless record to think about. Up to now, he’d solved every case he’d taken. It was just that he found it damn difficult to concentrate on anything but her whenever he was in the vicinity of Mei Lu Ling.

  Gnashing his teeth, Cullen turned the key in the ignition, vowing not to let this woman knock him off course again.

  “I made notes on what we have up to this point, Cullen,” she was saying, her tone all business. “Two dead men—we assume they were trying to peddle the goods in the pictures they had on them. And from the letters they carried, we know neither was local. That’s not much to go on. Has your contact at Interpol tracked the source of those letters? I’m guessing China.”

  “They’ve turned up nothing. The paper is garden-variety stationery that can be bought anywhere. The ink’s from a run-of-the-mill pen.”

  “Hmm. I suppose our dealer could live in Hong Kong or Singapore or Thailand. You’re the one in Houston’s arty crowd. Do you know who in this city has an extensive collection of period Chinese sculptures? A person or persons able to shell out large sums, probably in cash, for the privilege of owning statues and vases they’d have to hide in a vault?”

  “No. Do you?” He lashed back so fast, Mei gaped at him.

  “Oh, I see, you think my father—” Breaking off, she frowned at Cullen until he was forced to leave the stoplight where he sat letting his car idle.

  “I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t be suspicious of your dad or someone from his gallery, Mei Lu. Otherwise, why do you seem so unwilling to discuss going over there to talk to him?”

  She studied her short, unpolished fingernails. “It’s a long story. Or maybe not so long. Catherine, uh, the chief said I should be honest with you. I find it hard because I don’t want to cast my family in any sort of bad light.” She paused. “Part of the problem is that I’m really the problem. I’m a huge disappointment to my family.”

  “What? I don’t believe that.”

  Mei bit down on her lip, then she gave a thin sigh. “The Lings are a very traditional Chinese family. My mother, especially, subscribes to the belief that through yin and yang all elements are balanced. Night and day, sun and moon, moist and dry, dark and light, fire and water. Sons and daughters fit into a philosophy in keeping with the balance theory. They simply don’t rock the boat. Sons and daughters don’t chart their own course, but follow a path set by their elders. Sons are yang. Their qualities are brightness, heat, activity, expansion and even aggressiveness. Daughters are yin, and as such tend toward rest, stillness and receptivity.”

  “I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

  “See, that’s what I figured. Most non-Chinese just don’t get it. Not only did I upset the balance of our family when I left Ling Limited, I branched out into a field my parents consider solidly yang in nature.”

  “Oh. I understand. Police work is a man’s field, you mean?” Cullen frowned. “But you are a cop, Mei Lu. Have been for a number of years. Surely your parents don’t suppose they can still change your course?” He slowed the car to tak
e a corner. “But if that’s the problem here, I’ll go talk to your dad by myself.”

  “This is a conflict for me because it’s my duty to go with you. Catherine already delivered that lecture. I’m not asking that we skip questioning my father, Cullen. I am asking you to let me handle him in my own way. Or rather, in the Chinese way. Business is never conducted in a rush. I can’t take you to Ling’s and let you shoot questions right and left the way you might do with another person of interest to a case. He’d totally clam up. We face the same situation at the club tonight. To make inroads, to get anyone to speak, we have to be patient. If the bartender, waitresses or clientele are Asian, it’s imperative we take a roundabout approach.”

  “I see. You mean something like sitting down and drinking three cups of tea before we throw out questions about the dead man the cops hauled out of their parking lot?”

  “Exactly.” Mei’s face brightened.

  Cullen all but basked in the warmth of her relief. He decided immediately that he was willing to play by her rules. “I see no reason not to let you ask all the questions, Mei Lu. Why don’t I sit back and follow your lead?”

  “Really? Do you mind giving lessons to my captain?”

  “He’s all yang, huh?”

  Mei Lu laughed, a delightful ripple of sound. “Through and through.”

  “I suppose it’s impossible to tell your superior to buzz off.”

  “Unwise, anyway. In that respect I’m grounded in reality.”

  He nodded, and might have continued chatting amiably had Mei Lu not pointed out that he’d driven right past the club.

  Cullen snapped a fast glance over his shoulder. “Not exactly the Ritz,” he muttered. “I thought you said the grocery you go to is close by. Sheesh.”

  “You passed it already.”

  “Tell me this area looks less seedy in broad daylight.”

  Mei craned her neck and tried to see the street through his eyes. “Would it help if I told you I ran a check, and Wang Xi is the first person ever murdered in this spot or for many blocks in either direction?”

  “Marginally.” Cullen swung his car in a U-turn at an approved intersection and headed back. Once in the lot outside the nightclub, he sat nervously studying the woman at his side.

  “What’s wrong?” Mei had knotted her shawl, picked up her purse and placed her hand on the door release when she felt his eyes travel over her.

  “Nothing. Oh, hell. I’m looking at the picture you make in that dress and I’m wondering how many drunk, amorous bums I’m going to have to beat off with a stick.”

  “If those two women walking into the club are an example of the clientele unattached men have to choose from, I think you can safely leave your stick in the car,” she said dryly.

  Cullen followed Mei’s gesture. Two extraordinarily attractive Asian women with nice figures were outlined in the light spilling from a row of Chinese lanterns swaying from the building’s eaves. He uttered a meager grunt and thrust open his door without further comment.

  Mei didn’t wait for him to assist her out. Nor did she crow about getting the last word the way Jana would have done or manipulate him into swearing she was the prettiest woman here. For all her beauty and the advantages Jana had had heaped on her by doting parents, his ex-wife had been in constant need of validation. Mei Lu, he discovered, seemed oblivious to her appearance. To further punctuate that fact, once they entered the building and Cullen paid the cover charge, she didn’t head straight for the ladies’ lounge to check her hair or makeup.

  “Look,” she said quietly. “There are two vacant seats at the far end of the bar. Right next to where the waitresses pick up drinks. Perfect for listening, and maybe striking up conversations.” She grabbed Cullen’s hand and they swerved in and out between couples dancing to the latest rock tunes.

  Cullen found the music at odds with the quasi-oriental interior. It wasn’t until they were seated at the bar and he’d been approached by a waitress that he realized how foolish it would’ve been for him to come here without Mei Lu. In the ebb and flow of conversation going on around them, he noticed that few spoke English. He was totally dependent on his date. Well, not his date. His work partner.

  “What are you having?” she whispered in English, leaning close to his ear.

  So close that Cullen recognized the subtle scent she wore, which had intrigued him the first time they’d met. You, he nearly said. Instead, he shrugged before asking what they had.

  “Three Chinese beers. Shanghai, Tsingtao and Yixing Lager. I see a wine I like. Tsingtao. It’s dry and white.”

  “I’ll try the lager.”

  Mei Lu gave their order, choosing the Tsingtao wine for herself.

  Cullen saw the bartender bestow a pitying gaze on her. The guy obviously thought she could do better than Cullen. For that reason, he scooted his stool closer to her, until their arms brushed. Hers bare, his covered by a lightweight jacket. It wasn’t really warm, but Cullen claimed it was so he could remove his sports coat and feel the casual touch of her skin against his. Or maybe to give anyone watching the message that they were a couple—if only for tonight.

  Not that anyone in the place appeared to care. From the raucous laughter and continuous babble, most people at the club were simply here to have a good time.

  Leaning into her, Cullen murmured as much to Mei Lu as he clinked his bottle to her glass. “I don’t know if I’d hoped to walk in here and find everyone in the place acting suspicious and sinister, but I doubt anyone here is even aware there was a murder in the parking lot last week.”

  Mei agreed. “Unless they’ve relegated it to the background, as something that doesn’t concern them.”

  “But…murder?”

  “This isn’t River Oaks or Hunters Point,” she said, naming two upscale areas in the city. “Some of the people around here could have long histories of being accused of wrongdoing by local cops, for no reason other than that they’re ethnic minorities.”

  Cullen took another swallow of the creamy beer. “Is that your way of saying we’re barking up the wrong tree?”

  She shook her head and pushed aside hair that had escaped her French braid. It clung for a moment to the curve of her cheek.

  “Is this a dead end, though?” he asked, wanting to touch those strands of hair.

  “Hard to say. Why are you reading things into every comment I make, Cullen?”

  “I’m not. But I am out of my element. I don’t want to make a wrong move that might offend you—or anyone—” he hesitated before finishing “—anyone from your culture. Funny, I felt less of an outsider when I tracked that painting into China.”

  “Because there the people you met were your hosts. Here, families are trying desperately to blend in. Living well is a collective goal, and as such, what is most beneficial to the group is also what’s most important to the individual. Even if it means going down a path that individual would rather not take.”

  “That’s rather socialistic.”

  “Cullen, I’m only trying to explain how things are in my part of town.”

  Nodding, he took another swallow of beer, and concentrated on setting it back into the same damp ring so as not to mar the dark wood of the beautiful teak bar.

  “If you’re going to brood, I’ll pop into the ladies’ room to see if I can learn anything useful.” She patted his arm as she slid off her stool.

  He reached for his coat. “Will you be okay going alone? What if you rattle too many skeletons?”

  Her eyes twinkled, or maybe it was the flashing Shanghai beer sign that made it seem that way. “I spent two years on Houston’s mean streets, doing everything from busting crack houses to posing as a hooker. This is tame by comparison. Drink up, Cullen. And order another round. I may be gone a while.”

  Cullen watched her melt into the highly charged throng of dancers. It wasn’t until he could no longer see her slender form that he consciously willed the tension out of his body. That was also when it dawned that he
should’ve had her do the ordering before taking off.

  When the bartender got around to his end of the bar, Cullen decided to try giving the usual sweep of a hand over their empties. As luck had it, in bar talk, he’d found the universal language. Like magic, a fresh beer and a sparkling glass of wine appeared, and the twenty he’d set out vanished. Money was another universal way to break the code of silence. He’d wait to see what, if anything, Mei found out in the ladies’ room before he flashed any cash.

  And then he wondered how the good lieutenant might feel about bribing information out of potential witnesses. She’d probably pitch a fit.

  He’d been sitting alone for quite some time when suddenly he noticed that the couple to his left was gone, their seats claimed by two pretty women. Because he couldn’t help being a red-blooded male, he eyed them with a smile. And saw that the one seated closest to him looked much less Asian than did her friend. So he wasn’t really surprised when she struck up a conversation in English, as the other woman drifted off to join a group seated near the back.

  “Did you stumble in here by accident?” she asked, one eyebrow rising.

  Debating whether or not to respond, Cullen picked up his beer and lingered over a long pull.

  She studied him through lashes thick with mascara. “You’re awfully well dressed to be a new cop on this beat. Unless you transferred in from a tonier unit than those last guys who swaggered in here.”

  “I’m not. A cop,” Cullen added with emphasis. Although technically he was on a cop’s mission tonight. “What brings the cops here? Is the club generally staked out?”

  Lighting a thin cigarette, the woman shook out the match and blew smoke toward the ceiling. “I hope not. If so, it could eat into a working girl’s profits. Nope, far as I know, the cops were on a case. Something happened outside.” She faced Cullen. Her intent was obvious when she let her free hand caress his thigh.