by Joanne Pence
He laughed.
“A boat,” she murmured, doing all she could to concentrate on anything but Darius and what was happening to him. “I’ve often wondered what it’s like to live on a boat. When things get rough, to just pull up anchor and drift away…” Her eyes inexplicably filled with tears again.
They reached the Cross Harbour Tunnel. The entrance, dipping under the water, looked like a great, gaping mouth.
The water of the harbor above it was like a wide, blue mustache, and the Peak formed a giant nose. She always felt uneasy in the Tunnel, knowing there were millions of tons of water above her.
“You’ll come with me,” he said.
“Come with you? To Repulse Bay? I’m afraid I don’t have time today. You can let me out anywhere here,” she said as they reached the Wanchai area of Hong Kong Island.
“You don’t understand, Miss Perkins. I’m not asking you to join me, I’m telling you.”
“What?” She looked at him as if he were joking.
“This is not a game. I need you as insurance.” He kept his eyes on the traffic while speaking to her completely calmly.
“Insurance? For what?” The man irritated her; he was always acting so pompous. Whatever was he talking about now?
“To get away, of course. I need to go to Macao, where I’ll be safe. With my gun aimed at you, I won’t be stopped—unless the police here don’t care if a young American woman is killed. Luckily for you, they do care.”
She looked at him as if he were crazy. He was a British border official; what kind of gibberish was he speaking?
Nothing made sense to her anymore. “I don’t understand—”
“I’m talking about jade, Miss Perkins! The White Dragon, to be precise. And Mr. Yeng—my boss.”
She gasped sharply and turned to him, a shocked look on her face.
“Yes.” He smiled. “Now it begins to make sense, doesn’t it? Mr. Yeng wants the Dragon. He wants it very badly, so badly he even had me kill Chan Li to get it. Now do you understand?”
“You?” She was shocked.
“Of course. Who else could have gotten through Chan Li’s bodyguards? They all trusted me. Chan Li and I worked together on a number of deals over the years. Luchow was a convenient place for that. Poor man, he trusted me.”
None of this made sense. “You killed Chan Li? Why didn’t you take the Dragon?”
Burnham’s face darkened.
She snickered. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it!”
“I searched everywhere! It wasn’t until you showed up that I had any clue as to what might have happened to it.”
She looked at him with horror. “My brother…”
Burnham pounded the steering wheel with each word. “I don’t understand how he found it when I couldn’t. We searched for him, then when you showed up, we wasted time searching your things, both in Hong Kong and then in Los Angeles. But then Alan Perkins found his way to San Francisco and the big man himself.” He chuckled. “I used my position to have him detained, but once Yeng captured you, we assumed Perkins would go straight to him to free you. I telephoned San Francisco, told them Perkins was innocent. What I don’t understand, is why your brother didn’t go straight to Yeng at that point.”
She laughed, a high hysterical laugh. “And if he had?”
“That’s simple. We’d have the Dragon, and you’d have a corpse.”
“God! You’re despicable.”
“Actually, I’m a rather nice fellow. But anyway, when we heard you and Kane were in Sarawak, we knew you had to be looking for the jade.”
“You heard? How could you have heard that?”
“Why, from our co-worker, of course. John Carter. Surely you remember him? Nice chap, isn’t he?”
Carter. So that explained his behavior, his strange questions.
“Carter was convinced you didn’t have the Dragon. Believe me, if you’d had it, he would have known. He thought you really believed Kane was dead. No one could be that good an actress, he told us. I guess you did believe it. Kane really used you, didn’t he?”
She set her jaw and glared at him. The man was horrid, absolutely hateful. Then he laughed. He threw back his head and laughed at her. She reached for the door handle to open it, to get out of the car. She didn’t care how fast they were going, she didn’t care what happened to her, all she wanted was to get out of the car, away from this horrible man and his lies.
With one hand he grabbed her hair and jerked her toward him. She flailed at him, and he shoved her against the passenger door as easily as if she were a child. After her shoulder and head hit, she didn’t move for a moment, stunned at how strong the man was. For the first time she began to feel really afraid of him.
Burnham pulled out his gun and held it in front of her face. She sat up and remained still beside him. Her heart raced.
“That’s better. Now, don’t move while I drive. We’re almost there.”
“Why are you running now?” she asked. “Why aren’t you with your friends, meeting Darius and getting the White Dragon?”
“With British agents crawling out of the woodwork? Do you think I don’t know Robert Davis? Of course I do. I’m leaving the colony because I can’t trust those San Francisco friends of Yeng to keep quiet about me! The Dragon is lost to us; I can see that. But Yeng has lots of friends in Macao. So I’m going there, and now, with you as insurance, I’ll arrive safely.”
He pulled off the highway onto a private dirt road. The road wasn’t very long; and the area seemed quite deserted.
There were a few trees, lots of bushes and a small house. A short distance from the house was a dock, with what looked like a two-man fishing boat beside it. Burnham drove up to the dock and stopped the car. Despite her fear, her thoughts raced.
She had to get away. Once the madman was safely on his boat, he might realize he didn’t need his “insurance” any longer.
He opened his door and stepped out of the car, then turned back and grabbed her arm. She stiffened, clutching her hat to her breast, willing herself to be strong. He pulled, dragging her across the car seat and against the steering wheel until she fell out of the car onto the gravel.
She landed in a heap and remained there, willing to do anything to stall him, to buy time to formulate a plan, to pray for a miracle. In the past she would have counted on Darius. Now, she knew that was impossible. She clung tenaciously to the ground.
“Get up!” He nudged her with the toe of his shoe.
She didn’t move.
She heard a click and raised her head. The gun was aimed right at her.
“I said, get up,” he repeated.
Slowly, she rose. She picked up her hat, but looked all over the ground.
“Now what?” Burnham demanded.
“My purse. I must have left it in the car.” She started back.
Burnham grabbed her arm and spun her around toward the boat. “Move!” he yelled. “You won’t need any damned handbag where you’re going!”
“But I—”
He jabbed the gun into her back. Slowly, she started to walk. He grabbed her left arm from behind, holding her in front of him. With the gun in his right hand, he prodded her to an ever faster pace. They were almost at the wooden dock. The distance to the boat looked far too short for comfort.
Her feet dragged as she wracked her brain for some way to save herself. The cold metal of the gun was like dry ice against her back. One foot stepped onto the dock.
“Drop, C.J.!” It was Darius! For a split second she froze, then threw herself toward the ground—too late.
Burnham’s grip tightened on her arm, and he spun her around in front of him. He held her between himself and Darius, using her to protect him from the .357 Magnum that was aimed at his chest. She twisted this way and that, and as she did, she pulled out her hatpin, holding it tightly in her right hand. It was the only “weapon” she possessed. She stopped struggling as she felt Burnham’s gun against her temple. His arm wrapped aro
und her like a python, crushing her ribs, pinning her arms to her sides, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. She was held against his left side, and his right hand was holding the gun.
She saw Darius facing them in a half crouch, his gun still aimed at Burnham. She hadn’t seen or heard Jimmy Lee and prayed he was somewhere nearby.
“Not clever enough, Kane,” Burnham shouted. “Not fast enough, either. Throw down your gun.”
Darius looked at C.J. With Burnham’s gun so close to her, she knew there was nothing Darius could do. “Why?” Darius shouted. “So you can shoot me? There’s no benefit to me in that, Burnham. Let her go. Then get on your boat and leave.”
“As you said, ‘no benefit to me in that,’” Burnham shouted.
Burnham began to walk backward up the gangplank, holding C.J. so tight she could scarcely breathe, half dragging her with him towards the boat. Darius watched, his frustration thick in the air.
There was only one hope. She maneuvered the hatpin so that the round, plastic head was by her thumb, the shaft against her palm. About two inches protruded past her little finger to the sharp point.
She turned her head ever so slightly to look at Burnham’s body. She knew she would have only one chance. She couldn’t afford to hit a zipper; the hatpin wasn’t strong enough for that.
The pounding of her heart jarred her whole body. She swallowed hard. Should she try it? Was there any other way? The hatpin seemed so fragile. Could she risk her life on it? A few more steps and she’d be on the boat, escape almost impossible. If she were going to act, it had to be now.
She lifted her hand slightly, then drove it down hard into him. The hatpin hit its mark perfectly, and a strange, gurgling high-pitched shriek escaped Burnham as his whole body jerked.
The shock and pain caused Burnham’s arms to spasmodically jerk, loosening his hold. The instant he did, she hurled herself off the dock into the water. As she went over, a shot rang out. She heard Burnham’s body fall.
She stood, wringing wet, as Darius and Jimmy ran toward her, Jimmy with a gun still in his hand. The water was only up to her waist, but it felt slimy and filthy, and she couldn’t stop shaking. Darius gave her his hand to pull her out and into his arms. Jimmy ran up the dock to the boat.
“What did you do to him?” Darius asked, brushing her wet hair off her face. “I never heard a man sound like that.”
“Look!” Jimmy pointed. C.J. was astonished to see Jimmy’s complexion turn slightly green as he spun away from Burnham’s body.
Darius followed Jimmy’s pointing finger. Burnham lay sprawled out on his back, the hatpin still protruding from where she had placed it, HOORAY FOR HONG KONG, prominently displayed.
“Oooh, C.J….” Darius shuddered.
She stepped back, looking from one man to the other, then folded her arms and shook her head. “He’s lying there with a hole in his shoulder, and you’re like two big babies over a hat pin? I don’t believe it!”
As Darius looked at her, a smile slowly curved his lips. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her away from the dock to the hillside where his gun lay. “Are you okay, Cleo? I keep forgetting that you’re one woman who doesn’t need rescuing.”
“I’m okay.” She smiled back, then her face crumbled in tears. “Oh, Darius, I was so worried about you!”
He crushed her against him, kissing her until she was sure the heat from her body would dry her clothes instantaneously.
“Plenty of time for that later, you two,” Jimmy called. “Here come more police. We’ve got more explaining to do.”
When the police arrived, Darius asked them to release C.J. He told them that this was a complicated situation, and that they should call headquarters. They did, and were quickly instructed to do as requested. As C.J. was put into one car, and Darius and Jimmy into another, she was still trying to get answers to her many questions, but to no avail.
She was driven away without a word.
Chapter 20
The police drove her straight to Jimmy Lee’s house without asking a single question. It was baffling.
Jimmy’s butler stood openmouthed as he watched her step out of the police car, then enter the house, wringing wet and smelling of fish and salt water.
She went to her room to shower and change, forcing herself to go through the motions and not think about anything else.
It was only afterward, as she stood alone on the deck at the side of Jimmy’s home overlooking the harbor, that she let herself go. It was as if she had opened the floodgates; all the thoughts she had been suppressing came washing over her.
How had Darius gotten out of Sarawak? How had he gotten free of Robert Davis and the British agents? Of Yeng’s men? He must be working for the British, she concluded.
But if he was, they wouldn’t have been questioning her about him earlier, and he would have contacted them in San Francisco.
No, as soon as she thought about it, she knew she was wrong. Whatever the reason he had been let through at the airport, it wasn’t because he was an agent. He had been after the White Dragon reward. Of that, she was certain.
Or was she?
She slowly stormed around the deck rubbing her arms.
He had been lucky this time, she thought; he could so easily have been killed in Sarawak or at the airport. By Yeng’s men; by the police. But Darius always had plans. He was smug about them. Too smug, she feared.
She would never forget the look on Jimmy’s face when she had told him that Darius was dead. There had been pain, sorrow—but no surprise. In fact, it had almost been as if he were expecting it.
A shudder rippled through her. He had been lucky this time, but what about the next time?
What treasure would he go after next? And with what result?
Darius, give this up, she pleaded silently. Please give this up!
She felt as if she were going mad. Her thoughts rushed around in her head, bumping into each other. She shut her eyes and placed her fingertips on her temples, rubbing them, trying to drive the madness away.
She loved him. But was that enough?
She rose and went indoors to the music room. She sat on one of the chairs facing the grand piano.
It took a special kind of woman to live with a man who constantly faced danger. It was one thing to stay with a man who lived that way because it was his work and he believed in it, like a policeman. But a man who lived that way because he couldn’t face the way his life had become, because he was running away from tragedy. It was no way to live. Instinctively, she knew Darius realized it, but he also didn’t know how to stop himself.
The situation was all wrong. She walked through the house to the deck, watching what seemed like half the world pass below her, as thoughts of Darius swirled in her head.
Over three hours had passed, and during every minute she had wondered whether he had been arrested. Finally she heard the car pull into the garage.
She ran to the hallway, watching the entrance from the garage in anxious anticipation.
The door opened, and Darius stepped into the house, home again.
“Thank God,” she whispered, not moving as he rushed to her, smiling broadly. He threw his arms around her waist and spun her around.
“C.J., we’ve got it! We’ve got the reward!”
He put her down and stepped back to look at her, still holding her waist, his face glowing. She placed her hands on his arms as her lungs seemed to constrict, cutting off her breath. His first words had been about the reward. That told her everything she needed to know. She stepped back, away from him.
“It’s ours! And it’s huge!” He moved closer.
“I see.”
“Did you hear me?” Perplexity, then disbelief, filled his eyes.
“Yes. It’s good, Darius. You did well.”
“It’ll take a week or so to get it, but your share—”
She shook her head. “I don’t want it.” She tried to smile at him, to look happy. “I was never in thi
s for the reward. I don’t want money from you. You earned it; you deserve it.”
He didn’t move. “You make it sound like there’s something wrong with it.”
“No. Not at all. I just...” She looked at him again. Her heart melted. She couldn’t talk about the reward. Not now. He was with her; he was alive! That was all that really mattered. “Darius, I’m so glad you’re home.” The words didn’t begin to express the way she felt.
He said nothing, but stared silently at her as he placed his hands on her waist again. She rubbed his shoulders, then lifted her hands to his handsome face, assuring herself that he was really with her now, for this moment. But soon, she knew, the moment would end.
She brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. “Are you all right? How did you get away from those headhunters, or whatever they were?”
He took her hand, kissed her palm, then continued to hold it. “Do you remember the villagers who were going on a hunting trip when we were there?”
She remembered every detail of those days. “Yes.”
“I got them to work for me,” he said. “They were the ‘headhunters.’”
She felt the blood drain from her face.
His hands tightened their hold, his voice was calm as he continued. “They helped me find the White Dragon and make my way through the jungle, using the rivers. There’s an immense network of waterways. They helped me quite a bit. You and I could never have made it alone, C.J. That was very clear to me.”
“I don’t understand.” Her eyes never left his.
“The problem was John Carter. As soon as I saw him there, I realized he had to be working for Yeng. I had to get the White Dragon out of the country without returning to Bir Sakan, and I had to get you out, too. Once I saw that we were in danger, I had to change our plans.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She couldn’t believe he had been so thoughtless, so cruel.
“I had to get you out of there.” He rubbed her waist, his thumbs moving upward, playing with her ribcage. “My biggest worry was that you’d figure out that Carter was an impostor. The man was such a fool, he nearly gave himself away a couple of times. Your only chance to escape him was your innocence.”