She Walks the Line. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ need to notify Captain Murdock.” She listened while a weary-sounding Catherine told her to consider the captain informed. Mei barely acknowledged the chief’s standard closing statement to take care and to keep her updated.

      Cullen accepted the phone she shut and handed back. “You don’t seem pleased with this assignment, Lieutenant.”

      “It’s been a tiring day. In any event,” she added briskly, “this note could be a carbon copy of the one you have in your home file. Except that this courier’s name is Jung Lee.” Mei passed him both plastic sleeves. “I could hardly help overhearing what you said to Chief Tanner. Really, Mr. Archer, I don’t know what ties you think I have to Houston’s Asian community. I assure you they’re far fewer than you seem to believe.”

      “I don’t know, Lieutenant. For starters, there’s your knowledge in this field. You’ve obviously been well-trained.”

      Mei recoiled visibly, automatically clenching her hands at her sides. Was it her imagination or had Archer worn a faintly suggestive smile? “As you say, sir,” she said levelly, “I’ve studied Chinese history and Dynasty art. If this is all you need from me tonight, I’ve got a long drive home.”

      “Certainly. Let’s meet at my office tomorrow morning. Say, seven sharp? I like getting a jump on the day. And I promise to make you a pot of tea that holds more than one cup,” he said, showing he’d remembered her parting shot at their last meeting. “Come ready to help me work out an investigative plan. We’ll follow that with a visit to your father’s gallery. His expertise may exceed yours.”

      Mei gave a short nod, then excused herself to return to her car. By the time she coaxed the cantankerous Toyota into starting, she saw that her nemesis had been swallowed by the evening fog setting in over the harbor.

      As she drove off, she couldn’t help wondering about one question in particular. Did Archer have an ulterior motive for suggesting they visit her father?

      CHAPTER THREE

      MEI LU RETAINED just enough of her traditional Chinese up-bringing to feel shame mixed with her worry over Cullen’s subtle implication that Ling Limited and her father might somehow be involved in this smuggling case. Saving face wasn’t merely a passing fancy in her culture, but something ingrained in children from birth. While it was true that her father was far more westernized than his wife, in some ways he was wholly Chinese. Daughters had no right to be involved in the interrogation of a parent.

      Foo whined and snuggled his head against her as she drove home. He was perceptive enough to know when his mistress was upset.

      “Sometimes I wish you could talk,” she said, reaching down to rub his ears at a stoplight. “By the very nature of Ling Limited’s dealings, it’s reasonable that Archer might consider it a gallery of interest.”

      The dog emitted a little bark, licking her hand before she eased her car from behind the vehicle stopped in front of her. Mei felt foolish confiding her concerns to a dog. For a fleeting moment, as she approached an exit that would take her to a street near Risa’s, Mei considered swinging by to ask her advice. Risa had street savvy and access to information on Houston’s criminal underbelly. Her friends on the force worked a cross section of undercover assignments. As part of her job, Risa dealt with snitches and could probably fill her in…. Mei hesitated for many reasons, including the fact that she no longer felt comfortable just dropping in now that Risa was living with Grady.

      Mei was sure of one thing: smuggling rings didn’t appear overnight. Especially rings attempting to peddle the items she’d seen in those photographs found on the dead couriers. Illegal exportation of national treasures and artifacts carried hefty fines and stiff jail terms. Early Dynasty pieces ranked right up there with ivory, or trying to peddle endangered wild animals, either alive or for pelts. This was serious business.

      When she’d worked at the Hong Kong firm, a clerk had been approached to find a buyer for a rare ivory hairpin topped by an intricate solid-gold phoenix set with ruby eyes. Ling’s dedicated clerk had detained the man after she’d pressed a hidden buzzer connected directly to the local police department. They came at once and hauled the would-be seller off to jail.

      Mei later found out the poor man legitimately owned the piece. Or rather, his great-grandmother did. The old woman had fallen ill and he, like a dutiful grandson, had been sent to secure money to pay for her care.

      The woman died while authorities fought over whether the government had the right to confiscate her property without restitution of any sort because the item was deemed a national treasure. Mei and her clerk felt horrible, and so sorry for the family. Stephen, who’d been away at the time, said Mei had handled the man incorrectly. Her brother told her next time to buy the piece to put in his private collection. He bought estate pieces in China’s rural areas and insisted that if word of her actions got out, it’d cause good citizens to be angry at the government—and to feel leery of working with gallery buyers in the future.

      But her dad had personally trained the clerk. Mei was positive he’d never approve of the way Stephen chose to ignore the rules. She hadn’t discussed the incident with her father, yet it remained an issue between her and Stephen.

      A second question nagged her as she drove past the ramp that led to Risa’s. Since her father was also a kind, loyal man, could he—would he overlook a flaw in a friend or fellow dealer?

      Until she had that answer, she wouldn’t seek advice from Risa or anyone else. Meaning Cullen Archer, as well. If he thought she’d automatically throw open the doors to Ling Limited and allow him to interrogate her dad, he needed to think again.

      At home, she brewed sweet mint tea in a black earthenware pot of the kind preferred by Chinese all over the world. A methodical investigator, Mei pulled out a chair at her kitchen table and opened her notebook. She made two lists. One contained what she knew about the case thus far. The other was a series of questions. She stopped the question list at the end of page four. On the fact side, she had only three things. The priceless items in the photographs were missing from museums in China. Houston, Texas, was being canvassed for possible buyers. Two couriers had ended up in the morgue.

      Dropping her face in her hands, Mei massaged throbbing temples with her thumbs. Not even her favorite nighttime tea soothed her unrest—unrest that stemmed from the first question on her list. Why Houston? Why her city? She knew about collectors who’d pay small fortunes for the privilege of including any of those rare items in their private hoards. Not one lived in Houston.

      She took a slug of cold tea, made a face and rose to go dump the contents of the pot. At her feet, her dozing dog stirred. “Come on, mutt. It’s late. I don’t have any answers, so I may as well go to bed. I’ll need a good night’s sleep to cross swords with Archer tomorrow.”

      The dog yawned and staggered to his feet. He trotted at her heels after she flipped off the light. Strangely, in spite of his short legs, he beat her to the bed. Laughing, Mei played hide-and-seek with him by rolling him up in her spread and letting him find his way out. Having spent too many years of her life in solitary pursuits, she couldn’t thank Abby Carlton enough for recommending that she get a pet after moving out on her own.

      Suddenly lamenting the departure of her good-hearted friend, Mei flopped down on the bed and reached for her private directory and the phone. She assumed all members of her former circle had gotten a postcard last week with Abby’s new address and phone number. It wasn’t until Mei started to punch in the area code that she realized what time it was in Houston, and how much later that made it in North Carolina. Returning her phone book to the drawer, she jotted down a note, reminding СКАЧАТЬ