Stolen (A Prairie Heritage, Book 5)

by Vikki Kestell

“Do you both understand the kind of house of which I speak?”

  Mr. and Mrs. Li nodded, but Mrs. Li would not look at him.

  “As I said, these young women were kidnapped. They were held prisoner and forced . . . to do things.”

  “Please,” Ting-Xiu whispered to her husband. “I do not wish to hear this. Please excuse me.”

  She had started to rise when Liáng placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I am sorry, dear woman, but it is important that you remain.” He stared at Jinhai who reluctantly agreed and asked Ting-Xiu to be patient. She reseated herself but kept her eyes on the floor.

  O’Dell took up his tale again. How to tell Mei-Xing’s father and mother that she was alive and what had happened to her had been the most difficult part of their preparations; however, no matter how the words came out of his mouth, O’Dell knew the facts would stun and hurt her parents grievously.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Li, we rescued close to twenty young women from these houses.” He took a deep breath. “One of those women was your daughter, Mei-Xing.”

  Neither of her parents moved.

  “No,” Jinhai breathed. “No, you are wrong. Our daughter is dead.”

  Ting-Xiu trembled and swayed on her chair; Liáng reached out a steadying arm but she shoved him away, and slid closer to her husband, a sob escaping her.

  Liáng nodded to O’Dell who stepped to the window and swept aside the curtains. Across the street Betts raised his arm in acknowledgement and signaled to the cars parked just around the corner.

  One of the cars rounded the corner and parked behind Liáng and O’Dell’s vehicle. A minute later Mei-Xing, supported by Betts and Cluney started up the walk toward the steps to the Lis’ imposing front door.

  Ting-Xiu, clinging to Jinhai’s arm cried, “Husband! Make them stop! They are speaking horrible lies! Make them leave!” She buried her face in his side, weeping.

  But Jinhai stared into Liáng’s eyes, unwilling to see confirmation there but finding it nonetheless. Neither Liáng nor O’Dell said anything further for the moment.

  In the background, the doorbell sounded and a servant went to open the door. The servant’s shriek of shock and incredulity pierced the doors of the room they were in.

  “How can this be?” Jinhai whispered over the wails of his wife, still staring into Liáng’s face.

  The door to the room opened. Jinhai stood up as a young woman entered followed by two large men.

  “Father.” Mei-Xing’s voice cracked.

  Jinhai walked toward her. Stared.

  “Mei-Xing?”

  She bowed. When she unbent, she whispered, “Yes, Father.”

  He touched her face as Ting-Xiu stumbled toward them. O’Dell and the other men in the room turned away from the intimacy of the scene as Mei-Xing and her parents reached for each other and, finally, embraced.

  ~~**~~

  Chapter 26

  More than thirty minutes had elapsed before Mrs. Li was composed enough for O’Dell to continue. Liáng brought Mr. and Mrs. Li back to the sofa and gave his chair to Mei-Xing. Her parents continued staring at Mei-Xing as though she might vanish.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Li,” O’Dell gently recalled them, “I must tell you that there is more to talk of.”

  Liáng, hovering near Mei-Xing’s chair, nodded. “We have broken the surface now, but more remains to be said. I must ask you again, are you willing to give the pain of these things to the Lord? Will you resist the temptation to seek retribution? Will you submit your own vengeance to the Lord’s care?”

  “How can it be worse than this?” Jinhai protested, looking from Liáng to O’Dell, until he remembered O’Dell’s story. “Wait—you said . . . you said the young women had been kidnapped . . .”

  He looked at Mei-Xing. “You? You were kidnapped?” He looked from Liáng back to Mei-Xing. “You were in the . . . house in the town he spoke of?”

  Mei-Xing bowed her head once but did not break down. She answered his question with one of her own. “Father, did you ever ask yourself why I broke my engagement to Su-Chong Chen?”

  Jinhai slowly moved his head back and forth, not believing the connection she was implying. Ting-Xiu still stared at Mei-Xing in disbelief.

  Mei-Xing took a deep breath. “Quite by accident, I discovered that the Chen family is involved in many . . . dishonorable business dealings, things you would never approve of, Father.”

  “What things?” Jinhai demanded.

  O’Dell answered for Mei-Xing, sparing her the discomfort of saying the words. “The Chens are involved in drugs. Extortion. Gambling. Prostitution. Their many laundries, eateries, and import shops are legitimate businesses serving as fronts for these activities. As Minister Liáng introduced me, I am a detective. I have investigated these allegations for myself and found them to be true.”

  Jinhai blinked and looked away. Mei-Xing took up the narrative.

  “I discovered that Su-Chong participated in these . . . illegal things, Father. I wanted to tell you! Oh, how I wanted to tell you, Father, but I was afraid . . . because Wei Lin is your close friend. I was afraid at first that you would not believe me.”

  She looked down at her hands. “Later I was afraid because men who work for them told me . . . they said they would hurt you and Mother if I spoke of these things to you, so I did not dare tell you!”

  Jinhai sat stock-still, staring fixedly at the floor.

  “Do you remember . . .” here Mei-Xing began to cry. “Do you remember how Su-Chong left and no one knew where he had gone? Do you remember how Madam Chen blamed me and how her behavior toward me in public caused you so much shame?”

  Liáng handed Mei-Xing his handkerchief and patted her gently on the shoulder. Mei-Xing glanced at him, grateful.

  “I did not know,” Ting-Xiu moaned. “We-we-we treated you terribly! I treated you terribly!”

  Mei-Xing nodded. “I know,” she whispered. “And life became unbearable for all of us.”

  She wiped her eyes. “A man I considered a trustworthy friend offered me a way to remove the shame of my existence. He said that he knew a good Chinese couple living in Denver who had no family. They would take me in, he said, and treat me as a daughter.

  “I wrote a note saying I had gone away to remove your shame. This man I thought was a friend put me on the train to Denver, but when I got there . . . when I got there . . .” She could not finish.

  “When she arrived,” O’Dell interjected, “She found that her friend had lied. Men were waiting for her and she was taken by force to the little mountain town I spoke of, to the houses there.”

  “Who is this friend?” Jinhai’s voice grew in wrath. “I will kill him!”

  “You will kill him?” Liáng asked, raising his voice over Jinhai’s. “Did you not just commit your retribution to the Lord God, who is the Righteous Judge?” Liáng pointed his finger. “And are you without fault in all of this?”

  Jinhai’s mouth opened as he realized how much his treatment of Mei-Xing had contributed to her decision to run away.

  “There is still more to tell, I am afraid,” Liáng added, “but I will tell you something I told Mei-Xing. This ‘friend’ who betrayed her, has repented of his deeds and turned to Jesus the Savior. This man, who was an enemy, is now a brother in Christ. Can you receive this, Jinhai?”

  Jinhai swallowed. “I-I do not know! There is more? I cannot take this! It is too much!”

  Liáng’s tone changed; it hardened. “Jinhai Li! You are a Christian man! You must act like one and not sink into self-pity. Think of what your daughter has been through! She and your wife look to you to lead them in this situation.”

  Jinhai bowed his head and then sat up straight. “You are right, Minister Liáng. I am sorry. I am sorry, daughter. I . . . I will pray to forgive this man, whoever he is.”

  O’Dell waited until Liáng nodded for him to continue. “Mei-Xing escaped from the house of ill-repute. Dear friends of ours welcomed Mei-Xing into their home and hid her there. They shared the
good news of Jesus with her. Then they moved from the little mountain town to a house in Denver, and there Mei-Xing lived for many months, happy and content.”

  O’Dell shook his head. “Did you see newspaper reports two years ago when Su-Chong Chen was arrested?”

  Startled, Jinhai and Ting-Xiu glanced at each other and nodded.

  “When Su-Chong was arrested two years ago, he saw Mei-Xing. He, too, had been told she was dead, you see—just as you had. But when he saw Mei-Xing with his own eyes, he then knew that her death had been a lie.”

  “And did you read the newspapers when he escaped from jail months later?”

  Again Mei-Xing’s parents nodded.

  “When he escaped from jail he went looking for her because he was still enamored of her. He searched for her until he found her in the home of our friends in Denver. He kidnapped her from her happy home. He kept her hidden, a prisoner, for six months.”

  Ting-Xiu began crying fresh tears. Jinhai put an arm about her but he was overwhelmed himself.

  “Father. Mother.” Mei-Xing waited until they faced her. “Mr. O’Dell is the one who found me. I would have died if he had not found me. I was locked in a room, and Su-Chong had died on the other side of the locked door with the key to my room around his neck.

  “Father? Mother?” This would be the most difficult for Mei-Xing, but she did not want it coming from someone else.

  “When Mr. O’Dell found me, I was carrying Su-Chong’s child.”

  Jinhai did not look at her but he slowly nodded his head, acknowledging what she said. His wife blinked as if in a stupor and then she focused on Mei-Xing.

  “I have a grandchild?”

  Mei-Xing glimpsed hope on her mother’s face for the first time since she had entered their house. “Yes,” she whispered. “A granddaughter. She is nearly seven months old.”

  Her mother’s hopeful expression deepened. “Perhaps, perhaps we can say that you and Su-Chong married during that time—no one will know any different! And, and will not Fang-Hua be pleased to know her son left a child? Will that not ease their shame a little?”

  “No! That will never be!” Mei-Xing’s voice rose to a shout. “Fang-Hua will never see my child!”

  “No, she will not,” Liáng agreed. He squeezed her shoulder and Mei-Xing calmed under his assurance.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  She turned again to her parents. “Who do you think was behind the plan to send me to a whorehouse in Colorado?”

  Jinhai struggled to understand. “Are you saying . . . Fang-Hua planned to send you there?”

  “Yes. Yes, she did. She hated me for rejecting her son and blamed me for his leaving his home and family.”

  “I-I, but I cannot believe my friend Wei Lin had anything to do with this!”

  Ting-Xiu agreed. “The Chens are our oldest, dearest friends!”

  O’Dell stepped in again. “Mr. and Mrs. Li, we don’t believe Wei Lin knows of the evil done to Mei-Xing, but we have proof that Fang-Hua planned and orchestrated it.”

  “What proof?” Jinhai demanded, still struggling to accept Fang-Hua’s role as fact.

  “Two things,” O’Dell answered. “The first proof is a witness we can call right now. The second proof, we will show you . . . when we finish telling you all.”

  “More? There is more?” Jinhai lifted his hand to his head, overcome, and quite beside himself.

  “There is, but let us first call our witness.” O’Dell signaled from the window. A minute later, another knock sounded on the door.

  A wide-eyed servant showed Bao into the room. Bao was healthier and not as hopeless looking as he had been when he had asked Mei-Xing’s forgiveness nearly a year ago. He bowed to Mei-Xing’s parents.

  “Bao!” Jinhai exclaimed. “Where have you been? You uncle and aunt have been searching for you for more than a year! We had nearly given up hope for you.”

  “Mr. Li, I have been in hiding,” he murmured.

  “Hiding? Hiding from what? From whom?”

  “From my uncle’s wife, Fang-Hua Chen. She wants me dead because I can expose her deeds. Our deeds.”

  In simple terms, Bao detailed his role in sending Mei-Xing to Denver. He left nothing out and did not attempt to minimize his own culpability. He explained the rewards Fang-Hua had promised him. He described how, later, Fang-Hua instructed Bao to break her son from the jail in Denver and bring him back to Seattle. He repeated how Su-Chong had killed his mother’s men and escaped.

  Jinhai Li clenched his teeth and glared at Bao; it was clear to all that he was struggling with rage, but he held himself in check. Bao understood and soldiered on.

  “Soon after all this, my wife and infant son died in childbirth. My conscience told me it was fitting punishment for what I had done to Mei-Xing.” Here Bao’s voice at last gave out and he sobbed. “I was so sorry for my many sins. I wanted to tell you Mei-Xing was alive, but I could not find the courage. You saw me that day . . .” he pointed through the window, “standing across the street. You sent Minister Liáng to speak to me. He came and told me of Jesus.”

  Liáng interjected, “You should know, my friends, that because what Bao told me was so extraordinary, I could not believe him. I went to Colorado myself to discover the truth. I found the house in Denver where Mei-Xing lived with her friends—but after he escaped from jail, Su-Chong had gone looking for Mei-Xing. By the time I arrived, he had already taken her and hidden her from us.

  “It was many months more before Mr. O’Dell found her and brought her home. Then I again went to Colorado—to meet her and see if she was all right.”

  Jinhai and his wife stared at the floor, silent and still. Liáng and O’Dell had been in the Li home now two hours.

  Mei-Xing stirred. “I need to look after Shan-Rose,” she murmured. Accompanied by her two guards, she started to leave.

  “Mei-Xing!” Jinhai stood. “Is your baby here? May we see her? Our granddaughter?”

  O’Dell answered. “Perhaps not yet. We have more to tell.”

  Jinhai sank to his chair. “There is more?”

  As Mei-Xing and her guards left, O’Dell picked up the thread of the tale. “It will pain you to hear this. After Mei-Xing was recovered and brought back to her friends in Denver, Minister Liáng hoped she would come home to you. You must understand how much she has been through and why she chose to let you continue to think her dead.”

  He looked at Mei-Xing’s parents. “Do you understand?”

  Jinhai met O’Dell’s questioning eyes. “She did not want us to be ashamed?”

  “That was certainly part of it,” O’Dell acknowledged.

  “What other part would there be?”

  “She was afraid Fang-Hua would come after her child.”

  O’Dell could see the doubt shadowing Jinhai’s eyes. He pressed on. “It has now been close to a year since Su-Chong died and Mei-Xing was rescued and returned to her friends in Denver. Her baby is almost seven months old. She has been constantly guarded against such an attack since Shan-Rose’s birth. Why do you suppose that she has now changed her mind and returned to you?”

  O’Dell’s words hung suspended between himself and Jinhai. Jinhai Li forced himself to face the truth about his friends, the Chens, particularly Wei Lin’s wife, Fang-Hua.

  “Something has happened?” Jinhai breathed.

  O’Dell nodded. “Yes. Something terrible has happened. Men hired by Fang-Hua killed two of the men guarding Shan-Rose and attempted to abduct her. Instead, they mistakenly took another baby, the child of a woman dear to Mei-Xing’s heart—the same woman who hid Mei-Xing when she escaped from the brothel where she was imprisoned.”

  Jinhai and O’Dell stared into each other’s eyes for a long time, each taking the measure of the other.

  “You say you have other proof of Fang-Hua’s guilt?” Jinhai insisted.

  O’Dell removed an envelope from his breast pocket. “This is an exact copy of a letter written by one of the men hired by
Fang-Hua—the leader, we believe. He wrote it after discovering they had kidnapped the wrong child. Knowing they would not have another chance to take Mei-Xing’s baby by surprise, this man shot and killed the other four men hired by Fang-Hua. Then he wrote this letter. Please read it.”

  Jinhai received the folded sheet of paper. He opened it and, with Ting-Xiu looking over his shoulder, read

  To the police:

  The men whose bodies you find here were recently in the employ of one Fang-Hua Chen of Seattle, Washington.

  Fang-Hua’s full address was written next.

  Madam Chen ordered that these men perform the following crimes: a) Abduct the infant child of one Mei-Xing Li, b) Dispatch (kill) Miss Li and her bodyguards, and c) Bring the child to her. This is Miss Li’s place of residence.

  A Denver address unfamiliar to Jinhai was printed below.

  The father of Miss Li’s child is Su-Chong Chen, the late son of Fang-Hua Chen, making Madam Chen the child’s paternal grandmother.

  Someone had scrawled notes and names and numbers, details that Jinhai skipped over. As he scanned the last line Jinhai thought he would be ill.

  Sorry about taking the wrong child, O’Dell.

  R. S.

  “Who is this “R.S.” and what of the child he stole?” Jinhai’s voice shook.

  “We don’t know who he is and we have had no luck finding the baby, a two-month-old boy,” O’Dell admitted.

  “He knows you, though! He named you in this letter!”

  O’Dell sighed. “I know, but I have not been able to decipher the initials.”

  Jinhai stirred and groaned. “The mother of this baby helped Mei-Xing escape from that place, the house in the mountain town outside Denver?”

  O’Dell nodded once without comment.

  Jinhai hung his head. “We owe this woman a great debt. A very great debt.”

  His wife agreed. “It should have been our grandchild he took, not her baby. She is suffering her baby’s loss because of this mistake.”

  Ting-Xiu spoke directly to O’Dell; her eyes burning and resolute. “Here and now, we renounce our friendship with the Chens. Whatever you ask of us, we will do.”