After those quick observations, Cullen ignored her parents and focused his attention on Mei Lu, thrusting the wrapped daffodils into her arms.
Surprised, she licked her dry lips and her features softened appreciably. “For me? What’s the occasion?”
“The beginnings of an apology,” he said, moving close enough to run the backs of his fingers over the curve of her cheek.
She hugged the flowers. “Daffodils are my absolute most adored spring flower. How did you know? Cullen, as I’ve said before, you are the most thoughtful man.”
“I wish I could take credit. I can’t—it belongs to Freda. Although she didn’t need to hit me upside the head with a two-by-four to make me see the error of my ways. I’ve never met your mother, Mei Lu. Are you going to introduce us?”
Flustered, Mei Lu stammered through introductions in English and then a repeat in Chinese.
Mei’s mother either wasn’t impressed or she was plain unhappy to have him show up at the door without an appointment. She began to wave her arms and rattle off a stream of things that didn’t sound promising to Cullen.
Standing her ground, Mei answered in kind, until Michael shut the door and quelled the women’s byplay with a soft-spoken reproach. Both women clammed up immediately.
“What’s going on?” Cullen asked Mei.
“I’m afraid you arrived at an inconvenient time. Just as I introduced the subject of the Ding ware.”
“The what?”
“The Ewer with Dragon Head vase that turned up on Catherine’s desk. It’s Ding ware.”
“Oh, the vase. Speaking of vases, shouldn’t you put the daffodils in water? Otherwise, I’m afraid there’s not going to be anything left to enjoy. You’re squeezing the life out of them, Mei Lu.”
“Sorry. Arguing with my parents makes me tense.”
“I grant you, family feuds aren’t fun.” Cullen grew tense, too, under the distasteful scrutiny meted out by Aun Ling.
Michael came to the rescue again. He pulled a bell cord just inside a room that brimmed with museum-quality Asian art that Cullen wanted to examine more closely. A diminutive woman appeared like magic, and after a few directions from Michael, relieved Mei Lu of her burden, then exited the room as silently as she’d entered.
Following an even briefer exchange between Michael and his wife, Aun also bowed her head and fell silent. She went directly to a serving cart Cullen hadn’t noticed at first, where she poured pale brown liquid from a squat teapot. Aun returned bearing a tray of small round cups filled with fragrant tea.
Reacting adversely to her continued glare, Cullen wasn’t sure he wanted to taste the tea. For all he knew, Aun might have poisoned his drink. And he had yet to figure out why Mei’s mother seemed to dislike him on sight. Unless it was something as simple as Aun not wanting her daughter to accept flowers from a man. Or just from a non-Chinese man, perhaps. Cullen supposed he could understand that.
Had he not spent some time in Asia, the long drawn-out silence that ensued after the passing around of tea might have caused him to bolt. He racked his brain, attempting to recall the protocol—like, how many cups of tea were a minimum before it was proper to begin discussing business?
When Cullen’s nerves were stretched tight, Michael collected their empty cups and returned them to the cart himself. “You have placed the Ding ware in a safe spot?” he asked, abruptly fixing Cullen with stern eyes.
Cullen inclined his head. “Early tomorrow I plan to arrange for an envoy from Interpol to take possession of the vase. If it’s not deemed necessary as evidence, I’m confident it will begin its journey back to Beijing. My role in this is merely to recover the goods for an insurance company that insures museum art for the Chinese government. Any ramifications beyond that fall into your daughter’s capable hands.”
For several seconds Cullen thought that getting Michael to open up would be hopeless. Then, for a man so broad and tall of stature, Mei Lu’s father seemed to shrink.
“Come into my office. I’d hoped to avoid further involvement with this accursed abomination against the country of my family and my wife. I will tell you everything I know about the vase. Which is precious little. But it will be the complete and categorical truth, I swear.”
Mei Lu reminded Cullen of a woman standing on the brink of a crumbling cliff. He got up and moved to her, helped guide her resistant body into the room her father indicated. Cullen gently brushed his fingers up and down her stiff back. Since Mei’s mother hadn’t yet entered the room, Cullen politely held the door ajar.
“Close it, please,” Michael said, motioning with his hand.
“Your wife?” Cullen let the question hang quietly in a room that could only be described as masculine. Dark wood walls. Sturdy leather chairs. Heavy ashtrays. Even an array of brass spittoons, which Cullen hoped were only props.
“I never involve my wife in business matters. It’s a promise I made to Aun’s father, Lee Wong. As a reward for taking her so far from home and family, I pledged that she’d always live like a royal Chinese lady. A pledge I’ve kept for many years.”
Cullen did shut the door then and returned to stand beside Mei Lu. “Are you saying that to emphasize your honesty? If so, don’t I hold evidence that probably bears your fingerprints?”
“You have nothing but suspicions,” Michael stated. “Suspicions put in your head by my own daughter.” He stabbed a finger at her.
Cullen saw Mei Lu grip a chair back. He slid an arm about her waist. “Beyond suspicions, Michael, we have the vase and two dead men. What about them?”
“I know nothing of them. Hush, and I’ll tell you the sum of my knowledge about this unfortunate happenstance. Wednesday noon of this week, I attended a meeting of the local art dealers. Lunch at Commerce Towers. Our speaker came from Customs. He explained new forms they’ve devised. The meeting ran from noon until two o’clock. I lingered maybe ten minutes afterward. No more, as I had a two-thirty appointment with a new client. I left, headed to my car.” As Ling strode to a fireplace set in one wall and back again he supplied the name of the garage. Cullen and Mei Lu were familiar with the parking high-rise for clientele who frequented the tower.
“I walked, and as it was a pleasant day I removed my jacket before I unlocked my car. The minute I turned to lay my jacket on the back seat, I saw the box. A box not there when I parked.”
“You’d left a door unlocked?”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t believe I did.”
“Who else has a key to your vehicle?”
“No one. That I am sure of.” He took a breath. “I made a cursory inspection of the box, which I feared might be rigged to explode. I almost wish it had been a bomb,” he said, shaking his head. “Especially after I slit the seal and saw what lay inside. The box had no markings. The filler could have come from any importer. I drove straight to Ling’s and shoved the vase, box and all, into my office safe. All afternoon I waited for someone to contact me. Nothing that day or since. But I feel it’s only a matter of time. In the middle of the night, I remembered Mei Lu urging me to contact Chief Tanner if I received a letter or photograph. This was more than that. Today, I addressed the box, slipped into the police station and placed it on an empty desk outside the chief’s office.”
“Why didn’t you call Mei Lu?” Cullen asked when it appeared that Michael had finished stating his case.
“I read the news. I see how police officers try to falsely discredit their own. I want her to return to Ling’s, but I would not bring shame on her.”
Cullen stared at him. “You expect us to believe this thousand-year-old vase crops up in the back seat of your locked car for no apparent reason?”
“I know how it sounds. Believe me, I’ve lived with the facts longer than you have. I’m telling the truth. That’s all I know.”
And this time, because Cullen saw the man’s deep-seated anguish and felt his fear, he believed Mei’s father.
Mei sensed his acceptance—her first sign of hope.
“Cullen, is it possible someone’s trying to frame my father? I mean, it happened while he was at a meeting of local art dealers.”
Cullen rubbed his thumb along a deep crease down the center of his forehead. “Anything’s possible in this case. The question would be, why him? Who stands to benefit?”
Father and daughter slowly shook their heads.
“Usually insurance investigators look first at disgruntled employees.” Cullen’s statement prompted a flurry of denials from Michael. “Does the description fit anyone?”
“I pay my staff well. They’ve all been with Ling’s for many years. I’d stake my life on the honesty of each and every one.”
Mei fought the bile sloshing around in her stomach. “Father, have you given any thought to, uh, Stephen?”
“My son? Your brother? Impossible! As you’re aware, he’s many miles away.” Michael Ling sent his daughter a look that could only be described as scathing. She reacted with silence.
Cullen immediately slipped a protective arm around her waist. “Is your brother anxious to take over the company? If Michael dies or is otherwise out of the picture, does Stephen inherit the whole shebang?”
“No,” Mei and Michael said together.
“Ling’s is in a three-way trust split equally among Mother, Stephen and me,” Mei Lu explained.
Cullen’s cell phone rang, startling everyone in the room. He frowned at the readout. “It’s from my house,” he said to no one in particular before he answered. “Freda? Are the kids all right? Foo? What? Jana left a message to call her where? Australia? What the hell? She’s due in Houston on Saturday at six a.m. No, I hear Bobby wailing. Yes, I did—find Mei Lu. Can this wait, Freda, until I get home?” He sighed loudly. “It’s anybody’s guess what Jana’s up to. I’ll be home soon. Then I’ll call her back and we’ll find out.”
Mei Lu clasped an anxious hand over his arm. “I’ll go with you. There’s no sense in you having to deal with your problems and my dog, too. Father, may I borrow a car? Mine’s in the shop.”
Michael pulled out a set of keys and handed them to her, but Cullen pressed them back into the older man’s hand. “I still have fences to mend with Mei Lu. I’ll see that she and Foo get home safely. And, for the record, sir, I believe you about the vase. We’ll need to schedule a time to talk more about your son. Soon,” Cullen emphasized, now in a rush to deal with his next problem.
Mei’s mother was nowhere in sight when they left Michael’s office.
“Wait, Cullen. I’ll tell Mother goodbye. And I’m not leaving without my daffodils. Go ahead and start your car. I’ll only be a minute.”
Worried now about what Jana’s call meant for the twins and why it would make Bobby cry, Cullen took Mei Lu at her word. He left after bowing briefly to his host. The bow was returned—although curtly, Cullen noted.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHEN THEY WERE INSTALLED in the BMW, Cullen at the wheel and Mei Lu hugging a massive pale-green vase spilling over with bobbing daffodils, she asked, “Did you mean what you said back there, Cullen? You believe my father’s telling the truth about how the vase came to be in his possession?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your opinion?” He looked sharply at her.
“Definitely not! I wasn’t sure if you were lulling my dad into a false sense of security, all the while planning to have your friend at Interpol launch an investigation.”
“I apologize for doubting. His outrage seemed genuine. When you’re up to it, though, I’d like to discuss your brother.”
Mei Lu’s shoulders slumped. “Father is furious at me for bringing suspicion and dishonor down on Stephen’s head. You will have a chance to meet him, Cullen. Right before I left the house, Father informed me he’s called Stephen home from Hong Kong. You can be sure he’ll learn the truth.”
“You do know I have to put Stephen’s name in the daily report I make to Brett Davis at Interpol? How much harm will come to Ling’s overseas operation if Brett snoops into the company’s business practices? Activities, records, that sort of thing?”
Mei shook her hair out of her face. “I’ve checked transactions and company banking records for the past six months. I still have computer access, since my father never removed me as an officer in Ling Limited.”
“So, Stephen’s been in your sights for how long? When were you going to mention him to me, Mei Lu?”
“Not until I had more than a vague suspicion. Don’t you have information on this case that you haven’t shared? You never said Ling’s was on a list.”
“They weren’t, believe it or not. Not until you came to translate. The fact that you were related to an Asian art broker made me realize that Michael fit Interpol’s profile better than most. But, later…” Cullen paused, sucking in a breath.
“Later?” Mei Lu prodded.
Stopping at a light, Cullen turned slightly, allowing his gaze to move slowly over her face. “Later…I admit to having developed this desire to shield you from anything hurtful. So, shoot me, Mei Lu.”
A tentative smile nudged aside the tension that had stretched between them from the time they’d left the Ling home. “A feeling I return,” she said. “Which probably places me at a disadvantage. Because it’s the last thing I expected. Cullen…” Her eyes sought his. “I took an oath to uphold the law. I’d never ask you or anyone else to look the other way to protect me or my family.”
Cullen turned the corner and stopped in front of his security gate. His finger hovered above the opener. “I’m thinking of telling Brett I want off this case. What if I have to call in people to bring Stephen down?”
“You won’t have to,” Mei Lu said, trailing her fingers down Cullen’s leg to squeeze his knee reassuringly. “I want to know who the players are. Especially since they’ve dared to implicate my father. If I find any valid evidence pointing to Stephen, you won’t have to call anyone. I will. Until then, he deserves the benefit of the doubt.”
He wavered, but only for as long as it took him to part the daffodils and find her lips. “I’m glad we cleared the air,” he said softly, opening the gate after their brief kiss. “God only knows what my ex has in store for me this time. Her manipulations and lies led to our divorce. You can’t imagine what a relief it is to know I can trust you, Mei Lu. I hated doubting your dad, but what I hated even more was suspecting that you might cover for him. I thought—what if I have a tendency to fall for the wrong women? Although… Don’t ask me how anybody can control love.”
“Boy, do I know that feeling. I asked a friend how she knew she’d finally met Mr. Right. Crista. She’d gone through horrible, abusive relationships with her stepfather and her ex-husband. Now with Alex she’s blissfully happy.” Mei Lu fell quiet as Cullen glided to a stop in front of his home, which blazed with lights.
Even before he got out, the twins tore out the front door and charged down the steps. Freda stood framed in the doorway, having captured Foo before he dashed out after the kids, who threw themselves at their dad. Bobby unleashed the first battery of questions.
“Belinda said if Mom’s in ’straylia, that means we can’t go back to Austin. Why is she there? If we don’t go back, we don’t hafta go to school Monday, do we? Is that true?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I know Australia wasn’t on your mother’s itinerary, but maybe she made a change and plans to arrive here Sunday instead of Saturday. Give me a chance to phone her, okay?”
“O…kay,” he said in a lackluster manner, then moped all the way inside.
Belinda hopscotched over to Mei Lu. “We had fun at the Yees’. So did Foo. If we don’t go home on Sunday, can you bring Foo over again? Hey, where’d you get that big bunch of flowers?”
“I’m glad you enjoyed Foo, Belinda. I can’t answer your second question until your father completes his call. And…he gave me the flowers. Aren’t they pretty?”
“Uh-huh! But why did Dad give you flowers? Are you sick? That’s when my gramma takes people flowers. Or she sends
flowers if they’re dead.” Belinda did more hop-scotching. “You don’t look dead.” She giggled.
“Belinda, give Mei Lu a break.” Cullen urged the girl up the steps, then he turned to assist Mei Lu. “Here, that vase is heavy. Let me carry it inside.”
“I’ve got it. Go on in, Cullen. I know you’re anxious to return Jana’s call.”
He made a face. “I’m not anxious,” he muttered, taking the vase anyway. Stepping aside, he let Mei Lu precede him.
Once everyone had crossed the threshold, Freda shut the door and let Foo loose. The housekeeper then pried the vase out of Cullen’s hands. “Good job,” she exclaimed, beaming at him. “My suggestion got results, I see.”
“No need to talk in riddles, Freda. I gave you credit for the idea of buying Mei Lu flowers. And she graciously gave me points for picking her favorite kind.”
“Are you gonna tell Mom you bought her flowers?” Bobby demanded rudely.
Cullen, who’d led the way into the kitchen and had already ripped off the message stuck on the wall phone, glanced up from reading it. “Bobby, I can buy gifts for anyone I like without informing your mother. She and I lead separate lives, with one exception. That’s where you kids are concerned.”
The boy kicked the refrigerator with the toe of his sneaker. “How come Mom asks us all that stuff, then?” He whirled on his sister. “Doesn’t she ask who Dad has over for dinner when we’re here? She always wants to know who he dates and stuff.”
Belinda nodded. “I’m not sure we’re s’posed to tell him that, Bobby. Gramma said we’re not s’posed to spill those beans—that’s what she says—when we come to Houston.”
She Walks the Line (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 22
