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“I knew I could rely on your discretion.” She shook his hand again, said something in Cantonese, and suddenly there was another folded bill in her hand, this one brown and yellow.
The doorman held up his hands in protest and spoke volubly, also in Cantonese. Mei-li turned to Dirk and explained, “Mr. Lin says he is a father, like you, and he will not take money to help a father find his stolen children, or to keep that news to himself.”
A kindred feeling for Mr. Lin engulfed Dirk, but he correctly interpreted the message Mei-li’s eyes were sending him. He took the folded bill from her and pressed it into the doorman’s reluctant hand, saying, “Take this for your soon-to-be-born grandchild—from one father to another with heartfelt thanks.”
The doorman bobbed his head in acknowledgment, and the bill vanished into the man’s pocket. “You are a good man, Mr. DeWinter. I’m sorry I couldn’t remember more, but I will do my best to describe these men for your sketch artist. I pray heaven this will help you recover your daughters soon.”
“Thank you. That is my prayer, too.”
Mei-li accompanied Mr. Lin through the foyer to the door and courteously opened it for him. She was just about to close the door when he turned around suddenly and said, “Perhaps the cabdriver can tell you more than I can.”
Chapter 8
An electric current sizzled through the room. Dirk’s gaze swung to Mei-li for a heart-stopping moment, then to Rafe, and he knew they’d reached the same instantaneous conclusion he’d just reached. His gaze moved back to Mr. Lin. “The cabdriver? You know him?”
“But yes,” the doorman said. “Yik-hong Wang has been a fixture at this hotel’s cab stand for years, ferrying guests to and from the airport and many other destinations in Hong Kong, Kowloon and the New Territories. If nothing else he can tell you where he drove those two men, what terminal he dropped them off at.”
“How can we find Mr. Wang?” Mei-li asked swiftly.
“He is working today as always—he has already taken three fares to the airport now that the typhoon has passed and planes are flying again.”
Dirk turned urgent eyes on Rafe. “I’m on it,” the bodyguard said, moving purposefully toward the door. “If you can point him out to me, Mr. Lin,” he told the doorman as they started toward the elevator together, “that would be a huge help.”
Dirk stood stock-still in the middle of the living room, staring at the door Mei-li had closed behind the two men. “Is it possible?” he whispered to himself. Then he caught her eye. “Is it?” he asked, feeling as if the storm clouds had suddenly parted, letting a single ray of crystal clear sunlight shine through.
“It’s a huge break,” she acknowledged as she walked toward him, “and I don’t want to discourage you.” She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “But you have to accept that even if we learn where the cabdriver took the kidnappers and your daughters, that doesn’t mean that’s where they are now.”
He jerked his arm away. “Don’t tell me something like that,” he told her sharply. “The first glimmer of hope and you—” He bit off the rest of what he was going to say and strode toward the kitchen. He grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, tore off the cap and downed the contents in three long gulps.
Mei-li followed him into the kitchen, and for a fleeting moment Dirk remembered the last time the two of them had been in this room together. The sudden flare of passion. The urgent need they’d both responded to. The unexpected yearning for something just out of reach. Then he angrily shook off that memory the same way he’d shaken off Mei-li’s hand in the living room.
“I’m sorry,” she told him quietly. “I know it’s not what you want to hear. But one thing I will never do is lie to you about the progress of the case. And I’d be lying if I told you I have a lot of confidence in tracking down the kidnappers this way.”
“But—”
She cut him off. “Is it a possibility? Of course it is.” Compassion filled her eyes, her face. “And if we find them this way, I’ll be ecstatic. But if I let myself be in all over this now, I’ll lose perspective. Maybe even miss something important because I’ve lost focus.”
“When you say you, you really mean me,” he told her gruffly. “If I let myself get too excited, I’ll lose focus.”
