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Mei-li paused when they reached the top. “I don’t remember if we should go left or right,” she told Dirk. “I don’t remember which side has the deva holding an offering of fruit.” She pointed in one direction. “I think it’s this way.”
They found the statue in question and had no difficulty locating the spot where Dirk was supposed to hide the ransom. But Mei-li was right—it wasn’t going to be easy doing it unobserved. And after climbing the stairs Dirk realized she’d been correct about another thing. “You’re right,” he told her quietly, so none of the people around them could hear. “Retrieving the ransom and making a getaway from up here wouldn’t be easy.”
“But I don’t think they have any intention of doing that,” she reminded him. She glanced around, her expression displaying nothing but the casual interest a tourist would show, but Dirk knew better. She was checking to see if she could spot one of the kidnappers watching them.
“Which one is yours?” he asked, tilting his head toward the crowd of people enthusiastically taking pictures.
“Mine?” Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown.
“Which one of these people is the person you have watching to see if anyone recovers the ransom?”
“Ahhh.” One corner of her mouth curled up in a rueful half smile. “Would you believe I really don’t know? I’m not the one running that show.”
“But it’s not the police,” he stated. “You assured me it wasn’t them.”
“It’s not. They’re better than the police. Better than your FBI, even.”
“Who?”
“They operate in the shadows,” she said, her face taking on the solemn expression he recognized. “They’ve only ever gotten involved in two cases I’ve handled before.” She fell silent for a moment, as if she was of two minds about telling him the rest. “They’re the refuge of last resort, Dirk,” she finally admitted. “Cases that appear hopeless.”
He went cold all over. “Hopeless? You’re telling me rescuing my daughters is hopeless?”
She shook her head vehemently. “No. It only appears hopeless. But this group—they call themselves RMM—they’re kind of like the Mission Impossible teams. But they operate outside the law.” She gazed up at him, and Dirk read the determination in her eyes. “Remember I asked you what you were willing to do to rescue Linden and Laurel? Remember I asked if you were willing to break the law, willing to go to jail?” She put a hand on his arm. “You didn’t answer the first time, but when I asked you again you said you would do whatever it takes.”
Emotion overwhelmed him as he envisioned just how far he would go to bring his daughters home and keep them safe, now and forever—the same thing he’d done for their mother almost twenty years ago. “I’d kill anyone I had to,” he confessed in a low tone.
“Then I did the right thing calling RMM in. They don’t see themselves as above the law—they really don’t. They just do what they have to do, knowing it might mean death or incarceration. They accept that as the price they might have to pay because—”
Dirk’s phone rang, and Mei-li darted a glance at her watch. “It’s them,” she said in a tight voice. “It’s 4:30.”
* * *
It was a little after six when Dirk and Mei-li reentered his suite. Vanessa was nowhere in sight, but Rafe, Mike and Chet were out on the terrace talking. The three men quickly came inside when they saw Dirk and Mei-li walk into the living room, and Rafe asked anxiously, “How’d it go?”
“Fine.” Dirk wanted to add something to that one-word response, but couldn’t think of anything. He couldn’t say that this phone call from his daughters, like the other two, had eviscerated him. He couldn’t say that he’d wanted to roar out his frustration and fling the money over the side of the landing where the Six Devas stood, instead of shielding Mei-li from the view of the crowd as she surreptitiously tucked the bag she’d been carrying under the stone next to the deva. He couldn’t say that it had killed him to keep silent the entire ride home, because Patrick was in the front seat, and not demand further elucidation from Mei-li about this shadow group helping them. “Fine.”
Dirk’s gaze went to the one remaining grocery bag on the dining room table, containing the last of the four ransom packages, and he mentally thanked God the day was almost over. Only one more, he thought. One more picture, one more delivery. One more phone call.
