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“Yes? What is it?”
“We are very sorry for the inconvenience, but the Hong Kong Observatory has just issued a T9 warning, indicating increasing gale-force winds. While there is no indication Hong Kong will sustain a direct hit from Typhoon De-De—that would be a T10—we’re asking all our guests to move down to either the lobby or the first floor temporarily...just until the worst of the typhoon has passed. We understand this constitutes a hardship for our guests, but we hope the complimentary meals and drinks we will be providing in any of our fine restaurants will mitigate the difficulty.”
“I understand.”
“We also recommend bringing any medications or other necessities with you, as well as a change of clothes, blankets, pillows—everything you might need in the short term. While we don’t want to anticipate the worst, we want our guests to be prepared, just in case. Should the power go out, it would be a tad difficult to reach your floor without an elevator.”
Twenty-six flights of stairs—yeah, not an easy hike, Dirk thought with a stab of mordant humor, the kind that sometimes hit in tense situations. The British sure have a knack for understatement. To the concierge he said, “Thank you, we’ll be down shortly.”
“Thank you, Mr. DeWinter. Do you and your family need any assistance? We understand this can be a trying situation for families with small children.”
The reminder that his daughters weren’t with him caused Dirk’s heart to clutch momentarily. He cleared his throat. “No, we don’t need assistance, but thanks anyway.”
“Please don’t hesitate to ask any of our staff should you need anything. Once again, we apologize for the inconvenience.”
Dirk hung up the phone and told everyone, “The typhoon has been upgraded from a T8 to a T9, and the hotel wants us all downstairs before the winds get any worse.” He moved purposely toward the windows, saying as he did so, “Those shades come down. They won’t protect us if the windows shatter and there’s flying glass, but it could minimize any damage if the windows break while we’re gone.” He started rolling the shades down, and Patrick began to help him, but Dirk said, “I’ve got this. Get the ones in the other rooms, will you?”
Patrick left and Dirk turned to Vanessa. “Better pack at least one change of clothes for yourself. You don’t want to have to trek up all those stairs if the elevators aren’t working. And grab the blanket and pillows from your bed—we’ll need them.” She left quietly, and Dirk said to Chet, “Your hotel’s a few blocks away, isn’t it?”
Chet nodded. “Just up Nathan Road.” His mouth twisted in a grimace. “But I don’t think I want to try to get there tonight,” he said, indicating the rain they could hear thrumming against the windows. “Not even in a cab.”
“I wasn’t suggesting it. I’ve got clothes to spare. Might not be a perfect fit, but in a situation like this I don’t think that matters.” Dirk turned his attention to Mei-li. “Sorry, my mind’s not working properly. Vanessa should be able to lend you a change of clothes. Let me go ask her—”
Mei-li shook her head and indicated the large purse she’d set down beside the sofa. “I came prepared,” she told him in her calm voice. “When Patrick called, I threw a few things in there, just in case. Don’t worry about me. But Patrick will probably need to borrow some clothes.” She smiled slightly, as if the thought of five-foot-nine Patrick wearing six-foot-two Dirk’s clothes amused her. But then her smile faded, and her eyes sent a message Dirk had no difficulty interpreting—she wanted to speak with him privately.
“Patrick’s welcome to whatever I have,” Dirk said deliberately. Then he looked at Chet. “Why don’t you get what you need from my bedroom and tell Patrick to do the same. I’ll grab a few things after you’re done. Oh, and Chet,” he added as the other man started to leave the room. “Call Rafe and Mike, would you?” he said, referring to the other two bodyguards he’d brought from the US, who weren’t on duty today. “Let them know what’s happened, but tell them to stay put until after the typhoon. I don’t want them trying to get here when there’s nothing they can do.”
As soon as they were alone Mei-li said in an urgent undertone. “I’ll make this quick. Don’t say anything in front of Vanessa or Chet. I’ll explain later, but Vanessa isn’t telling the truth. Not all the truth. I don’t know why—not yet. She might just be feeling guilty about something—perhaps that she didn’t do more to stop the kidnappers—that’s one possibility. But there are other possibilities. Until we know, it’s better to keep our conjectures and plans to ourselves. Because if she’s lying, it’s possible Chet is lying, too.”
