Maybe that was selfish, but his first answer was correct. If she’d asked him, he’d have told her to let it go. To come home to him, and then…make a call or something.
Definitely selfish.
Not that it would have made a difference. She would have defied him, rightfully so. Because those women mattered as much as Mei Lin, even if Ethan only knew one of their names.
What was done was done. “Over how long did they go missing?”
“I was only able to go back two years before I was arrested.”
“Two years.” He said the words half to himself. Nine women a year, not so many that their disappearances would raise eyebrows, but enough to earn Lu Feng serious money.
Mei Lin returned to the kitchen and cleared the plates from the table. He grabbed the food they hadn’t finished and put it in the fridge, figuring if he didn’t, then she would, to avoid the rest of their conversation.
Before she could start on the dishes, he took her hand. “I’ll do that later. Finish your story.”
She perched in one of the kitchen chairs.
“You had evidence.” Too keyed up to sit, Ethan leaned against the counter. “What did you plan to do with it?”
“I was afraid to tell anyone while I was still in Fuyin.” She looked down at her hands. “I couldn’t go to the police. I didn’t know if they were involved. Even if they weren’t, Dr. Lu knew everyone. They wouldn’t believe me. And if I told the wrong person, then I would disappear—like the women.”
“Good thinking.” When she looked up again, he prompted her. “Tell me what you collected.”
“Names. Dates. The transport paperwork. Notes on the conversations I’d had with their families. I copied what I could and hid it. I was going to take the evidence with me when I came to you and”—she shrugged—“ask you to help me figure out who I should contact. I thought you would be able to take me to the right people. And keep me safe.”
He settled into the chair beside her. “I would have done anything you asked of me.”
“I know.”
“Where is the evidence now?”
“I assume it’s still at the hospital where I left it. I think that, if Lu Feng had found it, he wouldn’t be chasing me. He doesn’t know what I did with it. He must think I have access to it, that I can still hurt him.”
Ethan was still processing the first part of her statement. “It’s at the hospital.”
“I was afraid to take it home. If Dr. Lu suspected me, he would search my apartment. I thought the hospital would be safer.”
Ethan rubbed his jaw, his palm rasping against stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. “Where exactly in the hospital?”
“In the pathology archive, where old tissue samples and slides are stored. The hospital keeps them many years. Nobody goes there. It’s a dark, terrible, smelly place.”
“You didn’t work in pathology, though.”
“A friend did. Her name was Ying.” Mei Lin’s eyes filled. “I used her. I went to visit her often. I would tell her all about you and our plans together. Or about school and Vancouver. I helped her carry boxes. One day, I—” She moved her hands, setting something down. “I put a jar on a shelf, and I didn’t tell her. It was for biological samples. I used an old patient’s name and added to the label, Infected Tissue: 2014. Nobody would open an infected tissue jar.”
Ethan let out a quick laugh. “Smart.”
“Inside, there’s a silicon pouch that holds the papers and a thumb drive. It contains a spreadsheet with the names of the women who went missing, their photographs, and the money he received when he sold them. And the names of the people he sold them to.”
Ethan sat back. “How did you get that?”
She shrugged. “I waited one day for him to leave his computer unattended, and I dug around until I found it.”
“Are you kidding me? Mei Lin, what were you thinking?”
“That he was a monster, and I needed to stop him.”
Ethan rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He tried to get his brain past the image of Mei Lin digging through the man’s computer while he stepped out to go to the bathroom or something. She could have been caught so easily.