Minutes later her footsteps echoed in the corridor leading to her unit. Most areas of the midtown station teemed with activity around the clock, although the white-collar crimes unit tended to be dark at night. Those cops worked bankers’ hours; their jobs entailed mostly computer investigations or forensic audits. Occasionally some of the officers followed leads at night, because certain executives were wising up about not leaving paper trails. Mei assumed that was why she was needed tomorrow night. Murdock or someone else probably got word that questionable business might be discussed at a cocktail party or banquet.
She turned on the lamp on her desk and pulled the manila envelope out of her middle drawer. Two items fell out when she emptied the envelope on her blotter: a scribbled note from Captain Murdock and a ticket to a benefit gala at the Contemporary Arts Museum. She caught her breath. What if this benefit was where Cullen planned to go? No, he’d said a business dinner. Of course, he might have those in conjunction with those family oil dealings he’d mentioned.
Mei also saw that the sponsors listed were some of the area’s largest, most influential manufacturers. Cullen probably had no reason to be involved with those companies.
The ticket said that proceeds from the by-invitation-only event were to provide art scholarships to local, talented but underprivileged artists, some of whose work would be on display. Mei tapped the ticket against her chin, thinking that it appeared to be a worthy reason to hold a benefit. Such galas were commonplace among the city’s wealthiest. They didn’t mind shelling out big bucks in charitable contributions, especially when it provided an opportunity to wear designer gowns, mill around drinking champagne and looking important. Plus, it got their names and/or pictures in the newspaper—a given with this list of bigwigs.
She dragged Captain Murdock’s note closer to the light to decipher his scrawl. Over the last few years, federal immigration services had been cracking down on companies that knowingly hired illegal immigrants to work at low-paying jobs that many company officials went on record to say they couldn’t otherwise fill. The INS said tough. The feds might turn a blind eye if a few undocumented aliens showed up on a firm’s payroll. Not, however, if the firm’s officials facilitated transporting non-citizens for that purpose. The INS had conducted several successful raids in Texas. From Shel’s note, Mei couldn’t decide if her unit had been tapped to aid the INS, or if Murdock had picked up a clue and wanted to cast his own net and advance his role in the Houston PD. Anyway, it wasn’t Mei’s job to question his reasons. Her instructions were to lurk near five specific men named in the note and to listen for any incriminating chatter among them. She was to tape their discussion.
Mei put the ticket in her purse and shredded Shel’s instructions. She knew from past experience that high-powered male execs could usually be counted on to ignore a woman standing alone sipping champagne. Lucky for her. As Mei stood, reaching to turn off the lamp, the telephone on her desk rang. She picked it up, expecting to hear her boss. Instead it was Crista Santiago.
“Dispatch said you phoned earlier, Mei Lu. I decided to clock out and go straight home from my crime scene. What are you doing at your desk this late? I ran into Charlie from your unit at our local Fiesta store last night. He said you were still on special assignment.”
“Charlie who? From my unit?”
“Marshall. He shoots pool with a bunch of guys from Homicide.”
“Oh, Sergeant Marshall. He was introduced to me as Chuck. He’s right. I am on special assignment. I’m also helping with another investigation.”
“Is that why you phoned? About a case?”
“No.” Mei Lu let a sigh escape. “It was personal, but I decided not to bother you.”
“Now I’m curious. Does it have to do with your family?”
“More personal than that.” Mei cleared her throat and glanced around to make sure she was indeed alone in the office.
“What’s more personal than family? I’m intrigued.”
Mei fidgeted a bit, then finally blurted, “I need advice, Crista. You know me. Know how I am. How can I tell if the feelings that…come over me anytime I’m around a particular man might be more than, uh, respect or friendship?”
“Is it by chance that guy you were telling me about at the gym?”
“Cullen Archer? Yes. He confuses me, Crista.”
“Don’t they all? Men, I mean.” Crista laughed. “I’m probably the last person who should give advice, Mei Lu. I said a lot of things before I met Alex that I have to take back now. I just know I’ve never been happier. A year ago I’d never have believed it. You and I had similar views on love and marriage. Now, I…well, maybe you ought to take a chance on this guy, Mei. See what happens. Hey, I’m pulling into my driveway. Alex is waiting.”
“Then don’t let me keep you. Thanks for taking time to call me back. I don’t know when I’ll get to the studio to work out again.”
“Yeah, we’re both really busy.”
“Right. Bye, Crista. And thanks again.” Mei Lu hung up before things could get awkward. She’d come to accept that was how it was now between the once best friends. Mei realized she was afraid to find out how deep all the hurt feelings went. What if their friendships were irreparable? She’d hate that.
In spite of Crista’s ambiguity, Mei Lu trusted her instincts. Which meant that if she took Crista’s advice, she’d pick up the phone and call Cullen. Tell him she’d have the morning free and she’d love to visit the zoo with him and the twins.
Before her fears could weigh her down, Mei Lu did just that.
“Hey, that’s the best news I’ve had all day,” he exclaimed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love doing stuff with my kids. It’s just more fun if there’s another adult along to…to… Hell, I’m making a bad job of explaining, aren’t I.”
“Not at all. I may not have children, Cullen, but I learned a thing or two over the two years I spent patrolling neighborhoods. Being a single parent isn’t easy, no matter what circumstance brought it about. Mostly I saw women who couldn’t keep a lid on the family. Ones who couldn’t control angry teenagers. Of course, cops only see the families with problems.”
“Compared to what you’re describing, my life’s a breeze. I promise I won’t bend your ear tomorrow about my insignificant trials and woes.”
“Cullen, I didn’t say what I did to make any point. I thought I was commiserating with you. Raising kids is a scary proposition. Marriage is scary.” Mei laughed uncomfortably. “Why do you think I’m still single? My friends would say it’s because I want the guarantee of a storybook ending, and there aren’t any such guarantees in real life.”
“Truer words were never spoken. Of course, nobody thinks about that when he or she falls in love. So, you never have, huh?”
“What? Fallen in love? No,” she admitted, dragging in a sharp breath.
“Why? Never mind, I can answer that. You don’t let a man get close enough to risk that loss of control.”
Mei, still seated at her desk, stiffened. Again she darted a furtive glance around, making sure she was by herself. “I don’t think you know me well enough to make that judgment, Cullen. Furthermore, I’m not sure how our conversation worked itself around to my love life or lack thereof. It’s late,” she added, “and I’m still at the station.”
“Mei Lu, hold everything. I can hear you getting defensive.”
“I’m not. It’s just not something I want to discuss—” She gripped the phone between her ear and her shoulder, willing the rest of her body to relax. “Okay, I am getting defensive. I’m sorry. What time are you planning to leave for the zoo?”
“Ten, I thought. The kids like to eat lunch there. Mei Lu, I know you think you’ve managed to distract me from the subject. But I learned something in the trenches, brief though my marriage was. The only hope of forming a lasting relationship is if the couple involved starts out talking honestly about anything and everything.”
Mei didn’t know what to say to Cullen. Yet she felt him wa
iting for a response. “I wasn’t aware we had a relationship,” she finally blurted.
She heard him sigh, then give a low laugh. “It obviously needs more work,” he said. “I hear Belinda calling out. I’ll have to let you go. We’ll look forward to seeing you in the morning.”
Her fingers tightened around the receiver. She might have murmured goodbye, but wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until the overhead lights came on, flooding the room, that Mei Lu realized she was still sitting there listening to a disconnected buzz.
“Oh, hi. Didn’t mean to interrupt. My partner said he heard someone talking over here. I told him he was nuts, that you folks keep bankers’ hours.”
Mei recognized a detective from Narcotics. They had quarters next door—larger than the cubbyhole allotted to the two white-collar crime units. Mei grinned and set down her phone. “I’m not a ghost, Detective Winters. I just dropped in to pick up some messages.”
“I saw your name on the most recent posting of new promotions. Congratulations, Ling. You shouldn’t waste your time and talents on the likes of Shel Murdock, though. Narcotics always has room for a sharp investigator.”
Dale Winters was short and round, with a ready smile and a quick wit that Mei Lu appreciated. “I’d consider switching, I really would, if only you guys in Narcotics didn’t deal with such unsavory characters. The dogs you get to work with are the best thing you have going for you.” She stood and tucked the ticket for tomorrow night’s gala in her purse, which she slung over her shoulder. As the detective laughed, she scooped everything out of her in-basket. It was impossible to read all the junk mail and memos filtering down to individual officers every day. “You’re right about our hours, Dale. But out of curiosity, why did your partner care if someone was moving around over here?”
Winters popped two antacid mints in his mouth, returning the roll to his jacket pocket. “Hal’s edgy. We all are because of the memos coming out from Stan Richards and his crew.”
“Stan Richards?” Mei thought the name sounded familiar, but in a police department the size of Houston’s, she didn’t know everyone by sight or by name.
“Richards is captain over at Internal Affairs.” Detective Winters muted his voice even though Mei Lu had reached around him to switch off the main bank of lights and was already several steps ahead of him down the hall.
She stopped walking and let the lumbering detective catch up. Recalling Risa’s problems, Mei said, “I’ve been out on special assignment, so I’m out of the loop. Is IA investigating a new in-house situation?”
“Oh, you know how it is with those snoops.”
“No, I don’t.” Mei Lu shivered, remembering how miserable IA had made Risa’s life.
“Be thankful. If they get on your back for any reason, they stick like a monkey. My motto is, do your job and keep your nose clean.”
Mei noticed Winters had stopped at the door leading into his department. “Good advice, Dale. Well, I’ll see you around. Take care,” Mei said.
At home a short while later, she took Foo out for his nightly constitutional. Knowing he’d sniff forever if she let him, she whistled him back inside after ten or fifteen minutes.
Aware that tomorrow would be a long day, especially with the evening gala, she was tempted to put off reading the stack of handbills and department circulars she’d brought home. But she wanted to be aware of what was going on, so she brewed a pot of soothing oolong tea. And while it steeped, she sorted out the junk mail from pieces deserving a more thorough inspection.
A memo from U.S. Customs caught Mei’s eye. They’d recently arrested a shop owner on Bellaire Boulevard, having found fourteen-hundred-year-old clay artifacts smuggled from Honduras hanging in the man’s store among cheap wind chimes and bird feeders. Customs was urging Houston PD to be on the lookout for other such infractions. But who on the force would know that Honduras had outlawed exporting artifacts in 1984? And who would know real clay treasures from fakes?
The memo started Mei wondering if the Chinese statues she and Cullen were looking for might be hiding somewhere in plain sight. She set it aside to show him tomorrow, and made a mental note to spend her early morning poking through some of the shops that sold Chinese knickknacks.
The only other memos she spent much time perusing were the ones from Internal Affairs. As Detective Winters had said, the in-house sleuths seemed to be on some kind of witch hunt. Although, to be fair, IA had posted a list of the infractions under investigation. They included disorderly conduct while in uniform. But being drunk at a crime scene. Sex on the job with a married partner. Boy, had Catherine warned the five female recruits in her training class about that pitfall. Cathy wasn’t one to mince words. She’d been blunt in saying that sex relieved stress, and a cop’s job meant daily brushes with danger. She warned her friends to find other outlets for relief.
Mei had never been remotely tempted to have sex with a co-worker. But she knew it was an issue that had surfaced in Risa’s investigation. A messy triangle involving Risa’s partner, Luke.
Finishing her tea and walking to the sink to rinse her cup, Mei recalled the two times Cullen had kissed her good-night. He had accused her of not wanting to lose control, but she hadn’t felt in control then. She’d all but come unglued. The last couple of nights he’d even appeared in her dreams.
Mei placed her cup on the drainboard, snapped off the light over the sink and called to a sleepy-eyed Foo. “I’m beginning to understand the type of feelings Catherine lectured us about,” she told the dog. “I honestly never thought I’d have to worry. And look at me. If anything comes of…of…Cullen and me, I guess you know my friends will have a field day.”
For probably the first time in Mei Lu’s life, she discovered she didn’t care what anyone else thought. That shocked her. She raced through her nightly ritual, slid into bed and pulled the sheet up to her chin, wishing the sleep hours away so she could get to her outing with Cullen faster. And his kids, she reminded herself. The twins would be there to chaperone, and that was good.
THE NEXT MORNING, Mei wanted to hit as many Chinese-owned shops along the boulevard as she could work into a short morning that would still get her to Cullen’s no later than ten o’clock.
Since she didn’t want to constantly refer to a list of items stolen from Beijing museums, she did her best to memorize the copy Cullen had faxed her. She had a good memory for art pieces she liked. It so happened that she’d seen many of these in a traveling exhibit that had passed through Hong Kong. The few she didn’t recognize on sight, she looked up in a book she owned of treasures from the Forbidden City.
Armed with her plan, she dressed comfortably for trekking around the Houston zoo afterward. Mei bid Foo goodbye and set off.
A display in the first shop window supplied her with the perfect reason to poke through the store’s nooks and crannies. Toys. A full array of Chinese toys, any one of which might delight Cullen’s twins.
The proprietress—a small, birdlike woman with a high-pitched voice that got on Mei’s nerves—tried too hard to sell Mei Lu something. Anything. The pushy woman spoke impeccable English, yet she employed a range of tactics Mei recognized from having dealt with merchants on the backstreets of Hong Kong. The woman, Mrs. Wen, believed her sales for the day would improve if she could sell Mei Lu, her first customer, some trinket. It was an old superstition prevalent among Asian traders and shopkeepers.
Near the back of the shop, Mei Lu found some authentic hand puppets. In spite of taking an instant dislike to Mrs. Wen, Mei relented and bought Belinda Archer a Fan Princess puppet. And for Bobby, she settled on the Monkey King. These were as sought after by Chinese children as were Barbie dolls and Matchbox cars in the U.S.
The second store Mei Lu visited specialized in Chinese kites. She was able to tell at a glance that this shop wasn’t hiding stolen artifacts. However tempted she was to purchase kites for the Archer twins, Mei Lu resisted. She decided to see how they received the puppets first. Not only didn’t she want to w
aste money, Mei didn’t want Cullen to think she was trying to buy his kids’ affections.
She spent too long chatting with the delightful old couple who made the kites in a back room they gladly let her tour. At about nine-thirty, Mei had to go or risk being late. Bowing respectfully, she said in Cantonese, “I’ve never seen more beautiful kites. But I want to be sure my friend’s children will truly appreciate the butterfly and good-luck flyers before I buy them.”
Mr. and Mrs. Wu trailed her to the door, bowing and beaming their pleasure for the praise she had heaped on their work. Mei thought from their immaculate but worn clothing that they probably had far more talent than money. She vowed to return and buy kites, even if she tucked them in a closet to fly in the park herself some windy day.
To describe the Archer twins as excited over the prospect of their zoo outing would be to minimize their reaction. They hopped up and down, talking nonstop as they threw open the front door and raced out, converging on Mei before she could step from her car. Even Bobby greeted her enthusiastically.
Wearing a bemused smile, Cullen came out onto the porch and closed the door the kids had left wide open. “Listen up,” he called, and then followed that with a shrill whistle to get their attention. “There’s no leaving until after you hit the bathroom and collect your jackets. Let Freda know we’re taking off. Belinda, tell her I have your noon pill with me.”
The two responded by shrieking and tearing back into the house, and Mei Lu decided to wait until things were calmer to present the puppets. She walked slowly toward Cullen, not willing to admit how fantastic he looked. He shook his head and rolled his eyes heavenward once his twins had thundered past and left the front door standing wide open again.
“You’d think those deprived children had never been taken on an outing in their lives.” Reaching out, he took Mei Lu’s hand and drew her up the last two steps. “Hi,” he said softly, running an unabashedly approving gaze over her.
“Hi, yourself.” Mei Lu was aware that she sounded short of breath.
She Walks the Line (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 14