She stared hard at Jinhai. “Whatever they ask of us.”
~~**~~
Chapter 27
When Wei Lin Chen heard from his receptionist that the caller was his old friend, Jinhai Li, he picked up the telephone receiver. “My friend,” he greeted him. “It has been too long.”
I have not seen you since Su-Chong died, he thought.
“It has, and I have missed you, too, my friend,” Jinhai Li returned. He was nervous and off balance. Only yesterday his entire world had been turned upside down. Today he felt anything but friendship toward the man on the other end of the line.
“Is all well with you?” Wei Lin asked. “You sound . . . different.”
Jinhai sighed. “Wei Lin, may I ask a very great favor?”
Wei Lin sat back, surprised. “Of course. Whatever you ask.”
“I need to speak to you, my friend, in person. May I ask that you come to my home this afternoon? I would not ask, but it is indeed important.”
Wei Lin frowned. “It sounds serious.”
“I assure you, it is. Please say you will come.”
Wei Lin looked at his schedule. “What time? I will cancel my appointments to be there.”
“Four o’clock.”
“I will come,” he reassured Jinhai.
“I, ah, I must ask one more thing, Wei Lin. It is vital.”
Wei Lin paused before answering. “Yes?”
“I must have your word . . . that you will tell no one you are meeting with me.”
The frown on Wei Lin’s face deepened. “I must say I am becoming concerned, Jinhai.” Wei Lin heard a few whispered voices in the background and then Jinhai spoke again.
“Have no fear for yourself, my friend. Please, bring your bodyguards. I will feed them a fine meal while we speak. There is no danger to you.”
Somewhat reassured, Wei Lin relaxed. “I will be there. I will tell Fang-Hua I will be late for dinner.” He heard only silence on the other end for a moment. “Jinhai? Are you there?”
“Yes. Yes, I am here.” He sighed. “Wei Lin, when I asked that you tell no one you are meeting with me, I particularly meant Fang-Hua. You must promise me that you will not tell Fang-Hua that you are meeting with me.”
Wei Lin’s chin dropped to his chest. After close to thirty years of marriage, he well knew his wife’s nature and reputation. What has she done now that my friend must speak to me of her behind her back? he wondered. It was his turn to sigh.
“As you wish, Jinhai. I will see you at four o’clock.”
A soaking rain was falling when Wei Lin and his two bodyguards stood before the door to the Li home. The time was exactly four o’clock. The maid who opened the door bowed low and motioned them in.
Jinhai himself greeted Wei Lin in the foyer. “Thank you for coming. This servant will show your bodyguards to the kitchen. My cook has prepared something special for them.”
The two men guarding Wei Lin looked to him for direction. “Go. I will be fine,” Wei Lin instructed them. He followed Jinhai into their drawing room.
Several men stood waiting for them. Jinhai introduced them one at a time.
“Wei Lin, may I present Mr. Edmund O’Dell, Mr. Samuel Gresham, and our former pastor, Yaochuan Min Liáng. These other two gentlemen are Police Chief Groves and U.S. Marshal Pounder, both of the city of Denver.”
Wei Lin cut Jinhai a dark look. “Why would a police chief and a marshal from another state be here? What is going on?”
Jinhai bowed again. “Wei Lin, for the sake of our families and what is about to be said, the officers have agreed to leave the room.”
Chief Groves and Marshal Pounder both nodded to Wei Lin and left the room.
When the door closed behind them, Jinhai spoke again. “We have things to tell you, Wei Lin, important things. I-I cannot do it myself. I have asked my friends to help me.
They were, perhaps, not as kind to Wei Lin as they had been to Jinhai. Without preparation, O’Dell opened a side door to the room and Bao entered.
“Uncle.” Bao could scarcely utter the word. He bowed and straightened and stood before his mother’s brother.
“Bao! Where have you been all this time? Your aunt and I have been looking ev—”
“I know my aunt has been looking for me, Uncle.” Bao had interrupted his uncle, an unconscionable breach of etiquette.
Wei Lin frowned and growled. “If you knew she was looking for you, why have you not come home? Where have you been all this time?”
“Repenting for my sins,” Bao answered. He held up his hand as Wei Lin started to inject another question. “Uncle, please forgive my second instance of rude behavior, but I must speak.”
Wei Lin looked about the room. “Do these men know what you are to tell me?”
Bao inclined his head.
“Go on then.”
“My aunt has not been looking for me, Uncle. She has been hunting me. You see, over the last few years she and I have conspired to do many terrible things—horrific and illegal acts that shame me, shame you, and shame our family. However, after my wife died in childbirth, I refused to do Fang-Hua’s bidding any longer.”
Wei Lin’s face flooded with anger. “Of what acts do you speak? And if, as you say, they shame our family, why do you speak of them to my friend and to strangers?”
“Forgive me, Uncle, but these things involve Mr. Li. You see, the first service I performed for Fang-Hua was to punish Mei-Xing for rejecting your son.” In short, concise sentences, Bao repeated what he had told Jinhai. Mei-Xing’s father wept behind his hand as he heard it again.
“This is outrageous nonsense, Bao!” Wei Lin roared, standing to his feet and shaking his finger in Bao’s face. “Mei-Xing has been dead these three years!” He turned to Jinhai. “My friend, you do not believe these lies, do you? I apologize for the gross misconduct of my nephew. I will punish him, I promise!”
“No, Mr. Chen. You will not punish him.”
Slowly, Wei Lin turned toward the voice of a dead woman.
Mei-Xing walked past Wei Lin and stood next to Bao. “I am not dead, and Bao is not lying, Mr. Chen.”
When the telling of it all was over, Wei Lin stared straight ahead. He did not speak or move. He sat motionless for a long while, until O’Dell would give him no more time.
“Mr. Chen.”
Wei Lin woke from his stupor. “Yes, Mr. O’Dell?”
“To save Mei-Xing and the Li family the further grief of a public spectacle, we have decided not to openly accuse Fang-Hua of Mei-Xing’s abduction and enslavement. Nor will we reveal that Fang-Hua had a part in breaking Su-Chong from the jail in Denver.
“However, Chief Groves and Marshal Pounder have already been in close communication with Seattle police regarding the death of the two men who guarded Mei-Xing and her child and the subsequent abduction of Mr. and Mrs. Michaels’ baby.
“Groves and Pounder have shown the evidence to the police. Fang-Hua will be arrested for planning and financing the kidnapping and the two murders.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Late morning. We wished you to know and be prepared.”
The morrow was a Sunday; neither Wei Lin nor Fang-Hua would have a reason to be away from home before noon.
Wei Lin nodded, and remained thoughtful.
“Mr. Chen, our highest objective is to recover the missing child. We will ask for Fang-Hua’s assistance toward that end. When we do, we hope that you will encourage her to cooperate.”
As O’Dell spoke, Liáng stirred to a tiny, insistent jangling in the back of his mind. A moment later he realized that Samuel Gresham was staring at him. Communicating without words.
A warning?
Liáng stared back. He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head and searched out Jinhai. His friend, too, seemed concerned. A frown creased his brow.
Wei Lin shook himself. “Jinhai, your home must be overflowing with a party this size.” The line was delivered so effortlessly that Liáng would not h
ave recognized it for what it was—if the Holy Spirit had not, only seconds before, aroused him to danger.
Jinhai was not a man of guile so, before he could speak, Liáng answered, his manner quite matter-of-fact. “We have not troubled Mr. and Mrs. Li with housing us; we have rooms at the Washington Arms.”
“Ah. A fine hotel. I know you are comfortable there,” Wei Lin murmured.
A short while later as Wei Lin took his leave, Jinhai found Liáng. “I must talk to you.”
“I think I know what you will say. Let us gather the others so we may all hear your words, shall we?”
Mei-Xing excused herself from the room as Liáng and Gresham called the men together. “Mr. Li has something to say to us,” Liáng murmured.
“Please, I hope you will attempt to understand what I say and how important it is,” Jinhai began. “I realized as I watched Wei Lin take in our news that we have made a mistake.”
He had everyone’s attention. “Even though I have considered Wei Lin a dear friend for many years, nothing in our culture is more important than family. And just because Wei Lin did not participate in Fang-Hua’s despicable crimes toward Mei-Xing, I realized too late that we should not have believed that he is incapable of similar actions where his family’s reputation is concerned.”
Jinhai sought Liáng’s face. “Do you follow what I am saying?”
Liáng grew grim. “Yes. He may not care for Fang-Hua’s sake that she will be arrested tomorrow, but he will care for his family’s honor.”
O’Dell and Gresham quickly caught on. Gresham cleared his throat. “A tactical error,” he muttered. “I saw the wheels going around in that guy’s mind, and even though he has a good poker face, I realized right then that we can’t trust him.”
O’Dell spoke up. “I ask all of you to remember—bringing Fang-Hua to justice is, for us, only a means to an end, and that end is the recovery of baby Edmund. For that reason, we must ensure that nothing prevents us from confronting her tomorrow!”
“You are saying that Wei Lin will try to finish what Fang-Hua started,” Groves charged. “That Mei-Xing and Bao are still in danger—and so is the evidence we have gathered?”
“That is it exactly,” Liáng agreed. “If the witnesses and evidence disappear, the case against Fang-Hua goes away—as will the public stain on Wei Lin’s family name.”
“Then he will strike quickly,” Jinhai breathed. “He must. Before Fang-Hua is arrested tomorrow. Not even our friendship will stop him from acting to protect his family honor.”
He looked around the room. “We must keep Mei-Xing, her child, and Bao here in my home. We can defend them here. I have men I trust, men who are loyal only to me.”
O’Dell looked from Gresham to Groves and Pounder. “Agreed. But we do so secretly. We must allow Wei Lin to believe they have returned to the hotel. And then we must prepare and be ready for the attack.”
He directed his next words to Groves and Pounder. “Can we involve the Seattle police? Can we request that they provide some of their men to stand with us at the hotel?”
“Leave it to me,” Groves replied. He asked Jinhai for the location of a telephone and went into his library to use it.
Joy and Breona—and Shan-Rose—were waiting outside in one of the motorcars. Gresham and Pounder rushed outside to escort Joy and Breona into the house. Mei-Xing noted the change in their manner and hurried into the room again.
“What has happened?” she cried. “What is going on?”
Liáng took her aside. He sat her down and took her hands before telling her their concerns. “We have made a mistake in trusting Wei Lin with the knowledge of his wife’s actions. To protect his family’s honor, we believe he will try to . . . finish what Fang-Hua began, try to eliminate Bao, you, and . . . Shan-Rose. You will all be staying here tonight where you will be safe.”
“Shan-Rose!” Mei-Xing flew up in a panic, but Liáng caught her by the arm.
“They have gone to get her, Mei-Xing. Wait one minute and you will see.”
Mei-Xing pressed herself against the window and watched as Pounder, Gresham, and Gresham’s crew escorted Joy and Breona up the walk to the front door. The men were on high alert: Their eyes swept around and they kept their hands inside their pockets where Mei-Xing knew they carried their guns.
Pounder had Joy by the elbow and was setting a pace she was pressed to keep; Gresham walked beside Breona with his hand on the small of her back, urging her on. Breona clutched Shan-Rose in her arms. No female bear would guard her cub with more determination than what Mei-Xing saw in Breona expression at that moment.
Seconds later, they burst through the door and spilled into the foyer. Liáng and Jinhai waved them into the living room.
Mei-Xing ran to Breona who still held Shan-Rose in a possessive grip. Joy hovered close by.
“Sure, an’ she is just foine, Mei-Xing,” Breona reassured her. “Sleeping loik a baby, eh?”
“Thank you, Breona. I know you would have defended her with your life!” The tears that stood in Mei-Xing’s eyes mirrored the ones in Breona’s.
“Aye, that I would,” she said, her words heard only by Mei-Xing. Breona relinquished the baby to Mei-Xing who collapsed into a chair, breathing in the sweet scent of her child.
Jinhai slowly approached Mei-Xing. “Is that . . . your little one?”
Liáng stepped nearer the chair and Jinhai recognized his protective posture. Jinhai blinked and bowed in submission. “I am not Wei Lin Chen. I would never harm my own grandchild. May I at least see her?”
Mei-Xing looked to Liáng for his opinion. “Of course,” he murmured, but he was not replying to Jinhai; he was reassuring Mei-Xing. She climbed to her feet again and lifted the corner of the blanket from Shan-Rose’s face.
Jinhai peered down at the sleeping child. Her hand was fisted and pressed against her face, both cheeks rosy and plump. Tears stood in Jinhai’s eyes. “My beautiful granddaughter!” he exclaimed. “Thank you, my God, for restoring our daughter and granddaughter to us!”
Liáng and Mei-Xing exchanged an inscrutable look. They said nothing.
As evening drew on, the Li house hummed with activity. Jinhai barked terse orders into the telephone and, thirty minutes later, a dozen of his trusted men arrived and surrounded the house. Some concealed themselves in the shrubbery; others took up posts in the shadows by the doors. All were armed.
Jinhai called his household staff together. Most had been with the Li family during Mei-Xing’s childhood and had grieved with Jinhai and Ting-Xiu over their daughter’s purported suicide.
To say that the family’s servants had been stunned to see Mei-Xing the day before would be an understatement. The anger that visibly grew in their ranks as Jinhai described Fang-Hua Chen’s actions toward Mei-Xing was all the assurance O’Dell and Gresham needed to leave the house principally in Jinhai’s hands.
They instructed Liáng, Bao, and two of Gresham’s men to remain close to Joy, Breona, Mei-Xing, and Shan-Rose at all times. Before O’Dell, Chief Groves, Marshal Pounder, Gresham, and his remaining man left for the hotel, O’Dell called Joy aside.
“I promised Grant I would not leave your side, Joy, but I feel I should be at the hotel tonight to stand against Wei Lin’s men.”
“I know; he told me,” she whispered, “but I agree with you. Go; we are well protected here.”
The pain on her face was etching permanent lines around her eyes. It was as though she were aging as O’Dell watched.
O’Dell, breathing a prayer for her, nodded and turned away to join Groves at the door.
Jinhai, Ting-Xiu, and those of the Denver party remaining in the Li home sequestered themselves together in the living room. Conversation was sparse. When dinner was served, most of them picked at the food.
Mei-Xing kept close to Joy and Breona, and Liáng was never more than a few feet away. Gresham’s men, Betts and Cluney, stood guard outside the living room door. One of them would step into the room every so often and look
around; the other prowled the first floor, checking the locks on the doors and windows.
Ting-Xiu, with Mei-Xing and Liáng hovering over her, held Shan-Rose, weeping and then laughing as the baby awoke and smiled.
As the evening wore on, Liáng gathered them together to intercede for the battle to come. “Everlasting Father,” Liáng prayed. “Of whom shall we be afraid? Though a host encamps against us, of one thing we are confident: The Lord is our Light and our very great Salvation.”
A Seattle detective and six officers joined O’Dell and the remaining Denver complement at the hotel. The detective was dressed in a plain tweed suit, but his officers wore the blue serge uniforms of the Seattle police: brass buttons up the front, belted at the waist, and a seven-pointed star above the left breast. The crests on their dome-shaped hats identified each officer’s rank.
The combined force met in one of the hotel rooms to plan for the attack they were certain would come before morning. The Seattle detective, Martin Wolsey, suggested that they mix the six officers and the Denver party together and place them in three rooms—the room Mei-Xing had slept in, the adjoining room that Breona and Joy had shared, and the room across the hall. They agreed that Mei-Xing’s room would likely be the primary target.
Groves, Gresham, Wolsey, and one officer took Mei-Xing’s room. Wolsey sent O’Dell, Pounder, and two police officers to the adjoining room. Donaldson and the three remaining officers took up their posts in the room across the hall.
“I relish the opportunity to catch the Chens red-handed in anything,” Wolsey confessed with unsuppressed satisfaction, “and I fully intend to be present when Madam Chen is arrested tomorrow.
“But first, we must survive this night. I suggest we make up the beds to look as though they are being slept in. I further suggest we place ourselves in the darkest corners of our rooms and have two men on watch at all times.”
With determined expressions, O’Dell, Groves, and Pounder followed Wolsey’s instructions. When O’Dell, Pounder, and the two officers settled in the room adjoining Mei-Xing’s, O’Dell fell into a chair in the corner. He was weary and his hip ached abominably from overuse. Pounder and one of the officers would take the first watch and would waken O’Dell and the other officer halfway through the night.
Stolen (A Prairie Heritage, Book 5) Page 25
