“I’ll leave now, Mr. Wu. I have your address.”
“Please do not come to our door. The man has a mean look about him.”
“No, I said I won’t put you in any danger. Do your friends, the Hsiaos, know the person who sent this man? It may be a key to stopping others like him from bringing their guanxi demands here.”
Mr. Wu uttered a name. “He has become a most powerful man in the Kowloon Peninsula. Many people here owe him for making it possible to flee China.”
“I’m truly in your debt, Mr. Wu.” Mei could tell that the kite maker was extremely nervous even mentioning the name of the money man. It was a name that meant nothing to Mei Lu.
“Mrs. Wu liked you very much, Miss Lieutenant. She begs you to take care of yourself this day. Now I must go.”
Mei Lu shivered unexpectedly, even though the morning sun warmed her breakfast nook. “Yes, I understand. Go about your normal routine. If you see me cruising the street, don’t pay me any attention, Mr. Wu. If necessary, I may stop to buy another kite.”
“The ones you bought were well received by your friend’s children?”
“Very. I’ve recommended your shop to a friend, Angela Yee. But we’ll talk kites another time,” Mei Lu said urgently. “I need to leave.”
Her caller hung up without further comment.
Mei Lu threw on her jacket on the way to her car, all the while praying the mechanic had fixed her car properly. Thankfully, the engine turned over and caught with the first twist of the key.
Making a U-turn, she headed for the address she’d jotted down. Mei Lu debated phoning Cullen. He’d said he’d get in touch with her. Really, she had nothing more to add to the information they’d learned last evening. In case he’d been up all night with Bobby, she resisted disturbing him—no matter how much she’d like to hear his voice.
Mr. Wu had not described the Hsiaos’ houseguest, and belatedly Mei Lu wished she’d asked what he looked like. She had to assume he’d be dressed similarly to the other couriers. But as she scanned the street and saw only two men, both dressed in regular suits, she worried that she’d made a mistake. Mr. Wu had indicated the courier’s appointment was on the other side of Houston. Mei Lu assumed he’d grab a cab. Only, she’d passed three bus stops in the space of four blocks. Her quarry might well take a city bus. After all, trolleys, trains and bicycles were the major modes of transportation in his part of the world.
Mei Lu slowed her car. Many area residents lived behind their shops. There were also a few single-family dwellings sandwiched between businesses. Mei realized there was a great deal she didn’t know about the Hsiaos, the family being paid a visit by Tiger Man. Were the Hsiaos shopkeepers like the Wus?
Taking a long look at the men standing at bus stops, Mei turned the corner at the end of the block, deciding to drive down the alley behind the stores. The backyards were small but well-kept. Flowers spilled from pots on every back stoop.
Uh-oh! Mei Lu thought she’d spied her man standing on the bottom step of a porch. A couple near the Wus’ age huddled together on the step above him. They appeared tense, especially the woman. The husky stranger wore nondescript black pants and a loose shirt or tunic. He spun around, most likely at the sound of her car.
She took care to drive straight past as quickly as possible, averting her face. When she peered in the rearview mirror, she saw him disappearing through a hedge near the front of the house. Wishing the blocks weren’t so long, and that she hadn’t been so impatient, she had no choice but to keep going. She eventually reached the end of the alley and pulled up at a corner some dozen homes from the Hsiao place. She spotted her guy melting into a crowd at a bus stop.
And darn if she didn’t see a bus at the previous stop. Mei Lu backed up and parked the car under a live oak. She fumbled to lock her car while digging bus fare from her purse and arrived at the bus stop out of breath, just seconds before it would have taken off without her. The driver wasn’t overjoyed with her, either. He scowled when she stuffed quarters into the change counter.
At first Mei Lu thought the man she wanted hadn’t boarded this bus at all. Her breathing slowed to normal the minute she saw him sitting stiffly in a back row. She wanted to shout triumphantly when she noticed that he carried a cardboard box of similar size and shape to the one her father had found in his car.
She should probably phone Cullen. Or Catherine. Yet she couldn’t very well talk openly in this crowd. And what would she say? She truly didn’t know any more now than they’d known last night. Except that their suspect was on the move. So, why cause either of them needless worry? If she needed backup, it was only a phone call away.
Several stops later, people disembarked and more got on. A side seat with a better view of the back opened up. Mei Lu sank down, pretending to watch the passing scenery.
“Beautiful day.” A woman seated beside Mei spoke in Mandarin. Mei answered in kind. Beaming, the grandmotherly woman touched Mei’s arm. “It’s good to see a young woman your age who still speaks our language. So many have forsaken it for English.”
They chatted about the weather and about the woman’s large family and her pets. All of a sudden, Mei Lu saw the courier stand. He shuffled off behind others who were leaving by the back door. It was then she noticed that he clutched a bus transfer as well as the cardboard box.
Excusing herself in English and in Mandarin, Mei swam upstream toward the driver. “I forgot to get a transfer,” she panted.
“Which type?” he asked, again unhappy with her apparent ineptitude.
“Type? I’m a new bus-rider,” she mumbled.
He explained that there were differently colored edges, depending on which bus she planned to transfer to.
She gave a helpless shrug, which made him ask, somewhat rudely, for her final destination. How could she explain she didn’t know her final destination? Luck smiled on her then. Darting a glance out the side window as she went through the motions of digging for a nonexistent address, she saw the courier pass directly beneath. The transfer he held tight in one hand was trimmed in blue.
“Never mind, I remember,” she said. “I need a blue transfer.” She plucked the proper transfer from a fistful he held out to her, then streaked out the narrow door.
Afraid she’d lost her courier, she kept hopping up on tiptoe, trying to see over and around the milling throng of bus-riders. This, she discovered, was the big downtown transfer station. Mei would never have guessed that so many people rode the bus. All the times she’d been stuck in traffic, she would’ve sworn everyone in the city drove cars to work.
Ah, she identified the man’s black cotton shirt amid a host of traditionally attired businessmen. Her cell phone sounded its melody just as she wedged her way into position less than ten yards from him.
“It’s Cullen,” a scratchy voice said when she answered. “Where are you? I thought you were going to call me first thing?”
“I thought you said you’d phone me. Listen, Cullen.” Mei lowered her voice. “Don’t ask about the case, okay? We can discuss Bobby. How is he?”
“Miserable.” This was said around a yawn. “An on-call physician’s assistant agreed to phone in a prescription for the itch. He’s supposed to take it by mouth. She said they don’t use creams these days. I called the kids’ pediatrician in Austin, and he was rather worried about Bobby’s fever. I’m glad to say it’s dropped a few degrees. Why can’t I ask about the case? You haven’t left your house yet, have you?”
Frantically following the progress of the man with the box, Mei Lu let several people surge past her as another bus pulled in. Whispering now, she cupped a hand around the mouthpiece. “I’ve got him, Cullen. Our courier. Well, I don’t have him. Not in custody. Not yet. Hey, I’ve gotta run. He’s about to board a bus I need to catch. I’ll call you later. As soon as I figure out where he’s going—”
“Mei Lu, wait! I talked to Brett. Your brother left Hong Kong last night. Interpol already had a tail on him. Word on the street
in that region says the smuggling operation’s headed by someone with a well-placed family member in Houston. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but…what will you do if you’re faced with arresting your brother?”
Mei couldn’t describe the pain squeezing her heart. “Cullen, I really have to run. Literally…to catch a bus. To answer your question—I’ll call for backup. It’s what any good officer does.”
“I’m just so sorry. Be careful,” he stressed seconds before she cut him off.
The day seemed far less bright after Mei Lu boarded the bus. She took a seat near the front, worrying about Stephen. The stranger she was following suddenly looked more sinister. Maybe she ought to call for backup now. But Cullen’s words didn’t really make sense. They knew her father wasn’t the contact. Wasn’t it conceivable that the person responsible could be a private collector? In any case, if she brought the uniforms in too early, she risked blowing the entire case.
This bus held far fewer riders than most others pulling out ahead of it. Obviously her man wasn’t headed into the city center.
Near-paralysis set in when it became apparent to Mei Lu that they were on a perimeter route circling around to some of the wealthiest subdivisions. One stop on the route would probably be near the Lings’ place.
Forcing her brain to cooperate, Mei Lu still couldn’t make head nor tail of Cullen’s information from Interpol. They were aware that Stephen was going to be summoned home by his father. Therefore Cullen’s friend, Brett, and Cullen were wrong in thinking that the courier she now had in her sights planned to meet up with her brother.
Mei Lu found it difficult to take any but shallow breaths. Did Cullen’s repeated apologies mean he’d changed his mind about believing in her dad’s innocence? She longed to phone him back and sort everything out, but she didn’t dare. Tears burned her eyes. There had to be a missing link. Mei Lu would stake her very life on her father’s sincerity. But she hadn’t asked him again if he’d found anything out about the clients he no longer served.
Twenty minutes later, still trying to fit together the pieces, Mei Lu saw the courier disembark within walking distance of the back entry to her family’s gated community. She wanted to vomit.
For moments, nothing worked. Not her legs, her brain or her lungs. She let the driver shut the bus doors and drive off. Suddenly, something clicked, prodding her to remember who and what she was. A proud, dedicated servant of the law who had graduated from the Police Academy with honors and with honor.
Yanking the cord, she managed to have the driver stop in the middle of the next block.
It was just as well, she decided, because otherwise the courier would surely have noticed that she’d been on each of the buses he’d ridden. Now, oblivious to being followed, he marched straight up to the gate guard and passed the guard a note of some kind. Presumably someone had authorized the man to enter the complex.
She kept within the long shadows cast by leafy trees. When the man with the box nervously glanced behind him, she darted behind a sprawling butterfly bush that needed trimming. Mei searched her own purse for identification that would allow her in the gate. If she’d ever doubted where her suspect was headed, her hopes were dashed when he casually hopped a fence that would place him in her parents’ parklike backyard. A yard she could picture, landscaped with a stream, a pagoda designed for meditation and a pond filled with good-luck goldfish. Mei’s heart skidded erratically. How could she have been so wrong about her father?
Mei approached the guard and flipped open her badge. He was new and didn’t know her on sight. It took a moment to make him understand the urgency of the situation. “I need you to call 911 and request that a squad car be sent to this address.” She hastily wrote her parents’ house number on the shocked guard’s clipboard. “Tell the dispatcher that you have an officer in need of assistance. This is my badge number,” Mei said. Her fingers grew stronger and held the pen straighter as duty crowded past heartbreak. She had to follow the courier—now.
Though she wore slacks, she had no intention of climbing a fence. Besides, she needed the time it’d take to walk to the front door, needed it to brush the remaining cobwebs from her addled brain.
Two houses from the one where she’d spent her childhood, Mei Lu opened her cell phone and punched in Cullen’s number. “You were right and I was wrong,” she said brokenly the minute he answered. “I’m facing my father’s house. Our courier’s inside.”
“God, Mei Lu! You can’t—you’re not going in alone?” Cullen’s voice sounded raw, but that barely registered with Mei Lu.
“I have to,” she said. “But don’t worry. Police backup’s on the way.”
“Listen,” he was saying. “I can be there in five minutes. I’m—”
She hung up, not wanting to hear yet another apology, or him ordering her to wait. Technically, she supposed he could, as this was originally his case. She stowed her phone and began what seemed an endless walk to the door.
She couldn’t wait. Someone had to witness the transfer of the stolen goods. Besides, she needed to be the one to say to her father what burned inside her. She felt so horribly betrayed.
Unlocking the familiar front door, Mei slipped inside. The house seemed unnaturally still. Then she heard voices echoing down the hall. Cantonese. A man, whose voice she didn’t recognize, sounded loud and argumentative. The voice that answered checked Mei Lu’s forward motion. Not her father, as she’d braced herself for. Her mother.
Mei flew into a greater panic. The courier must have shown up on the wrong day. Her father would never leave her mother to deal with anything so unsavory.
Riddled now with fear, Mei Lu burst into the elegantly appointed summer room. It had long been her mother’s favorite domain—a room Aun’s children rarely entered because she’d filled it with delicate Chinese things. Silk wall tapestries and polished furnishings carved from a rare hardwood, huanghuali. A jade collection that surpassed any Mei had ever seen. In her haste, she bumped an intricate, lacquerware chest. The sudden noise startled the two people engaged in a shouting match.
Mei Lu skidded to a shaky stop. The man, of course, was the one she’d tailed here from her side of town. In another setting, Mei would never have recognized her mother. Aun Wong Ling’s hair was slicked into its usual knot, but her face was powdered and slashed with dark paint. Neck to toe, she was attired in a crimson silk robe. Wide sleeves shimmered inside with ice-white lining. The same pristine hue was repeated in an exquisitely detailed, fearsome tiger stretching down the entire front of the robe.
Between the angry pair stood the open box the courier had brought. Mei recognized an ancient, painted earthenware figure known to museum-goers as The Female Servant, a piece purported to be the oldest ever excavated from the Tomb of Lou Rui in Shanxi province. It was near the top of the list of stolen artifacts in price and prominence.
“Mother!” Mei squeaked in a voice more quavery than knees that might not hold her for long. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Aun first looked stunned. Then an expression Mei could only describe as cunning crossed her face. “Way Shen, this is my daughter. The very one who will become your wife. She will be more beautiful once you return with her to Beijing and manage to dress her properly.”
“Wife? Mother, what nonsense! Who is this person? How do you even know him?”
“She is the woman who followed me,” Way Shen shouted excitedly, switching from Cantonese to Mandarin. “This is not the docile wife you promised me, White Tiger Queen.”
Mei’s head exploded in pain as the couple continued to bicker as if she didn’t exist. “Stop it!” she demanded, first in Cantonese, then in Mandarin. Surprisingly they both did, although her mother’s lips thinned almost cruelly. “I am not going anywhere, especially not to Beijing. On the contrary, Mother. But you are going to explain why you’re in possession of stolen Chinese art.”
“I’ve helped my brother recover a good share of the former Wong fortunes,” she said in a conversational voi
ce. “He always told me that you, Daughter, would not go quietly. You will need to use something to calm her, Way Shen. I hope you came prepared.”
“Are you deaf?” Mei Lu clenched both hands at her sides and advanced a step into the room. “Can’t you hear the sirens? Mother, for heaven’s sake, stop trying to ship me off with this awful man!” Mei knew that she sounded close to hysterical.
“Seize her!” Aun ordered. “The stupid girl has notified the police. I knew I should have ended my operation when your last messenger tried to extort more money than I agreed to pay. Or if not then, when my oh-so-honorable husband managed to convince the authorities he’s too up-standing to have taken part in our very profitable triad. Mine! It’s all my scheme.” She pounded her breast. “I have restored the house of Wong, and I will implicate Michael. For daring to buy me. For daring to rip me away from everything I ever loved.” Her laughter held an edge of madness. “Seize her! Take her away. That one’s not worthy to be her mother’s child.”
Only Mei Lu’s finely honed reflexes saved her from Way Shen’s lunge. Crista’s patient kung fu training helped her avoid his second attempt, too. She drew power from the earth. The moves were all automatic, because her mind, her heart and her body were far from centered.
She danced out of reach during his second grab and managed to jab him hard in the ribs. The unexpected attack brought the heavy man crashing to the carpet. Crista would’ve been proud of that move. Disconnected thoughts raced through Mei Lu’s brain. She felt detached from everything around her.
In the distance she registered that not one police car but two had drawn up out front. Uniforms swarmed toward her down the hall. She saw Cullen in the middle of the pack. Mei Lu’s heart rejoiced merely to see him, although she wished she could have saved him from witnessing this…the most terrible of dishonors.
She Walks the Line (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 25
