The Captive Within (A Prairie Heritage, Book 4) (24 page)

Peace has descended on Palmer House, Lord, but it is a
somber one. We are learning to live without another we love so dearly. Last
evening Grant read comforting words to us from 1 Thessalonians:

But
I would not have you
to be ignorant, brethren,
concerning them which are asleep,
that ye sorrow not,
even as others which have no hope.
For if we believe
that Jesus died and rose again,
even so them also which sleep in Jesus
will God bring with him.
For this we say unto you
by the word of the Lord,
that we which are alive and remain
unto the coming of the Lord
shall not prevent them which are asleep.
For the Lord himself
shall descend from heaven with a shout,
with the voice of the archangel,
and with the trump of God:
and the dead in Christ shall rise first:
Then we which are alive and remain
shall be caught up together
with them in the clouds,
to meet the Lord in the air:
and so shall we ever be with the Lord.

Dear Maria did not quite understand that “them which are
asleep” refers to those who have died and left this life, but Grant explained
it so beautifully. He said, “When we die, our bodies fall asleep, to rest and
wait for the return of Jesus. When he awakens us, our bodies will be restored,
not to their fragile former state, but to one that is incorruptible and
eternal.”

How you fed and strengthened us with the Bread of Life in
that moment, Lord! We have so much hope for eternity.

—

 “I need your help,” Bao whispered to Liáng.

They had been meeting secretly in small cafés and out-of-the
way tea houses for weeks. They talked. Liáng read to Bao from his Bible. Bao
asked questions about the Christian God, and Liáng did his best to answer them.
Each time they parted, Liáng prayed for Bao.

Today the look of grief and shame Bao usually wore was
overwritten by one of panic. “What has happened?” Liáng demanded.

Bao looked about the café nervously. “Madam Chen. She has
asked me to come to her house today.” He glanced at his watch. “In less than
two hours.”

“Do you know why?” Liáng became as concerned as Bao.

“You know that she is obsessed with finding and destroying
Mei-Xing. A live Mei-Xing is Fang-Hua’s greatest threat. Two days ago she
suggested that
I
should take men and go back to Denver to seek her out.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I have never before answered her so,
so . . . defiantly. I said, how can you ask me, a grieving
father and widower, to leave my family’s graves so soon? She was, I believe,
astounded at my, my brash behavior, as was I.” He shivered.

“What did she say then?”

“She just stared at me, but I could see her scheming,
calculating mind at work. Finally she dismissed me. I-I am not sure why.”

Liáng studied Bao and saw what Fang-Hua must have seen: A
young man whose clothes hung upon his body; his lank, unwashed hair, and eyes
sunken from lack of sleep.

“Why do you think she calls you back today?”

Bao stared absently at his tea. “You know my
wife . . . Ling-Ling . . . was a maid in the Li
home?”

Liáng nodded. Bao had confessed that Ling-Ling was part of
his payment for helping Fang-Hua debase Mei-Xing.

“She was so pretty.” Bao’s voice dropped away, and Liáng
wondered briefly if his young friend was losing hold of his senses. He reached
across the table and grasped Bao’s wrist.

Bao looked down at Liáng’s hand on his wrist and then into
Liáng’s face. “Hear me. Ling-Ling’s father’s older sister had a son. His widow
works in the kitchen in the Chen home. She has been with the Chen family for
more than 20 years. Her eldest daughter—a second cousin to Ling-Ling—is a
servant in the house also. She, she overheard Fang-Hua tell one of her
men . . .”

He stared with anxious eyes into Liáng’s face. “You must see
that I am also a threat to Fang-Hua. I was not as long as my wife and child
bound me to her evil plans. But now . . . The girl told her
mother who passed the message until it reached me.”

Liáng nodded, prodding him to finish.

“Fang-Hua now has reason to mistrust my loyalty. If I refuse
to do her bidding today, they have been told to . . .” He tore
his watch from his pocket and looked again. “An hour and a quarter.” He was
trembling.

“I cannot go to Fang-Hua. I cannot, I
will not
do
this vile thing she wishes of me. I cannot even pretend I will. Minister Liáng,
if you can help me, I no longer wish to die . . . not before,
not before I make this right—” He covered his mouth and could speak no further.

Liáng gripped his wrist tighter. “I can hide you, Bao, for a
time. Is that what you wish?”

Bao nodded, his hand still across his mouth, eyes skittering
anxiously around the room.

—

 “How many?” Su-Chong demanded one night, his brows
furrowed.

“H-how many what?” she’d stuttered, fearful of his question.
He had been drinking steadily all day. Mei-Xing knew what drink could do to an
already unstable man.

“How many men have you given yourself to?” he repeated
coldly. The disdain dripping from his curled lips chilled her.

She watched him, finding again in his eyes and manner all
the reasons she had broken their engagement: His indulgent upbringing; the explosive,
unpredictable anger; his mother’s ruthlessness.
The incipient madness
.

I have so deceived myself
, she mourned.

“I have only ever
given
myself to one man.
You
,
Su-Chong Chen,” she whispered. “Against my will, however, I was taken by many
men. You know this already. I have told you how this was done to me. You know
who ordered it.”

He had studied her, his eyes hardening toward her. “I have
defiled myself with you.”

His hatred solidified. “My mother was right. You cannot be
trusted,” he added categorically.

From that moment on, he had again locked her in the little
room.

—

As Liáng pointed his motor car toward the bungalow where
O’Dell was recuperating, he shook his head and fervently prayed. He did not
look forward to what he must do today.

He arrived and, after greeting O’Dell and Miss Greenbow,
asked to speak with the nurse privately. They adjourned to the tiny kitchen.

“My dear lady,” he began tentatively. “I have some
unfortunate news.”

“What is it?” she asked, surprised.

“I am afraid that your service to us is at an end. I must
let you go.” Liáng disliked himself intensely at that moment.

“What! Who will care for Mr. Jones? Certainly he is mending,
but he still requires some nursing care. Have I done anything wrong—”

Liáng held up his hand, interrupting her. “Miss Greenbow,
your care has been exceptional. I will write you a fine recommendation. But
our, ah, circumstances have changed. I’m afraid I must let you go. Today. Now,
in fact.”

He removed an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.
“You will find that I have added an additional week’s salary. I apologize for
the abrupt end of your time with us. I should have liked to have given you
proper notice.”

She slowly took the envelope. “Well, if you are sure
then . . . I . . . it will take me a few minutes
to pack.”

“May I help you gather your things?” Liáng had never felt
quite such a heel. As they passed into the living room where O’Dell sat, Liáng
laid his forefinger across his lips.

O’Dell looked from Liáng to a stunned Miss Greenbow and
back. He pressed his lips together as she gathered her knitting and a book she
had been reading and retired to her room. O’Dell and Liáng could hear her
opening and closing drawers.

“What in blazes is going on?” O’Dell whispered, eyes
narrowed.

“After she leaves, if you please,” Liáng replied.

Twenty minutes later, Miss Greenbow donned her coat and hat.
“I am leaving, Mr. Jones,” she said weakly. “I do hope you will continue to do
the exercises as I’ve shown you. I—” She twisted the strap of her handbag. “I
wish you all the best.”

O’Dell carefully got to his feet and offered her his hand.
“Miss Greenbow, it is I who am indebted to you.” A look, something of perhaps
both surprise and disappointment, passed between them.

Liáng and O’Dell watched her carry her little suitcase to
the end of the street and turn the corner. She would catch the trolley along
there within the hour.

When she was gone, O’Dell rounded on Liáng. “Now tell me!
What is going on?”

Liáng mutely shook his head and went out the back door.
O’Dell heard him opening the gate to the yard. A minute later he had backed
into the yard and closed the gate behind his little motor car. O’Dell heard the
trunk of the auto close and the murmur of Liáng’s voice.

The back door opened and Liáng entered followed by someone.
They walked into the little sitting room, Liáng leading a young man with
haunted eyes.

“Mr. O’Dell,” Liáng said softly. “This is Bao Shin Xang.”

—

Fang-Hua listened with growing frustration and rage to her
man’s report. “He cannot have just vanished! Watch the trains. Keep eyes on his
house at all times. Someone knows where he is.”

If she was worried at Bao’s disappearance, she did not allow
it to show. “Bao has shown himself to be disloyal to his family. When he is
found, you will make him disappear.”

She continued to think. “I also wish someone to watch for
him near my husband at all times. This is of great importance. You will not
allow him access to Wei Lin Chen.”

Pulling herself erect, she waved a hand in dismissal. “Go.
Do as I have directed. Find him.”

The young servant girl crept away from the closed door
and continued about her duties.

~~**~~

O’Dell glared at Bao Xang. “What is
he
doing here?”

Liáng answered simply, “He refuses to hunt down Mei-Xing as Fang-Hua
demands. Now she will hunt
him
. This was the only safe place I could
think of.”

Bao endured O’Dell’s withering glare without resistance.
O’Dell took in the young man’s blank and spiritless manner, but he felt no
pity.

“Is this why you dismissed Miss Greenbow?”

Liáng inclined his head.

O’Dell cursed under his breath. “I’ll pack my bags.”

“No, Mr. O’Dell, you should not do that,” Liáng
remonstrated.

“Look, Liáng, I appreciate all you have done for me, but I
won’t stay in the same house as this, this murderer.” He hobbled toward his
room.

“Do you wish to find Mei-Xing?” Liáng called after him.

O’Dell turned. “That,” he snarled, “is a
stupid
question.”

“Bao is your best chance of finding her,” Liáng replied. “He
knows Su-Chong, has known him all his life. To date I have only been able to
give you second-hand information, but I am not a trained investigator. Perhaps
you
should interview him.”

O’Dell slammed the door behind him and leaned against it
shaking with anger. And exhaustion. He knew he was not yet fit to travel. Just
twice around the enclosed yard set his hip to throbbing. The more he exerted
himself, the harder he breathed. That was when pain would shoot through his
lungs, ribs, and shoulder again.
Like right now
.

Then the pounding of his half-healed jaw overrode everything
else, and O’Dell realized he was grinding his teeth together. He uttered a
string of choice swear words.

Liáng showed Bao to the room just vacated by Miss Greenbow.
Bao did not look around. He sat down on the bed and nodded without seeing.

Liáng sighed and retraced his steps to the back door.
Stepping outside he breathed deeply and began to pray.
Lord, here I am, in
water far over my head, and I don’t know what to do now
.

He checked his pocket note book. Two appointments later this
afternoon. He could not cancel them without good reason.

Stepping back inside the house he checked the food supply in
the kitchen. Someone would need to shop for Bao. He would have to cook for
himself. Liáng wondered if Bao knew anything of what went into preparing a
meal. Or if he was in any state to care.

O Lord!

O’Dell unclenched his teeth and gently waggled his jaw to
release the tension in it. His head pounded. His hip ached. He needed to sit
down.

He sat gingerly on his bed and rubbed the muscles along his
hip. Against the antipathy he held toward Bao, he was thinking about what Liáng
had said. Could Bao hold the key to Mei-Xing’s recovery?

He sat there for twenty minutes, thinking, before he heard
his stomach grumbling.
Miss Greenbow had fed him well
. He snarled again
as his stomach growled for its lunch.

—

Joy was staring from the window of one of the third floor
towers when Rose found her. The street fronting Palmer House was not as busy as
a downtown thoroughfare, but was bustling nonetheless. Carts laden with goods
on their way to market slowly clanked by. The occasional motorcar passed the
slower traffic with an audacious honk.

“Spring is on its way, but I miss the mountains,” Joy
confessed. Of all they had lost when the lodge in Corinth burned, the wonder of
its views had been among the most difficult to bear.

“Is that all of what troubles you, Joy?” Rose inquired
softly.

“No,” Joy admitted, but did not immediately add to that
single syllable. She continued to stare unseeing at the light traffic passing
the house. Rose waited beside her.

“Is it Grant?”

Joy fidgeted uneasily. “We are so happy, Mama, even if so
many of his memories are still lost,” Joy began, “but . . .”

“But?”

Joy sighed. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Is he still the Grant you married?” Rose offered.

“Oh, yes. Yes, he is! Even though I have to remind him of so
many things. Even though he has lost the use of his arm. When he looks at me,
he is every bit the man I married. Godly. Caring. Happy. Strong. So gentle and
sweet.”

“What is it, Joy?” Rose probed. “What is bothering you?”

Joy faced her mother, anxiety on her face. “Since his bout
with the influenza he is still not quite well, Mama. Instead of growing
healthier and becoming clearer in his mind these last weeks—I don’t know, but
he is often away in his thoughts, a worried look on his face, and I have to
bring him back. He seems . . . distracted, and I am concerned.”

Rose drew a sharp breath. “Have you spoken to him of your
concerns?”

“Yes, I
have
asked how he feels. He smiles and tells
me he is fine,” she stared out the window again, “so why do I feel he is
withholding something from me?”

She sighed. “I have not wanted to, I don’t know, nag him, I
suppose, but I see changes, subtle changes. Yesterday we had to run to catch
our trolley. We always laugh when we make it just in time
but . . .” Joy fiddled with a button on her blouse.

“What, Joy?”

Joy sighed again. “Instead of laughing about it, he was out
of breath.”

She turned to Rose. “Mama, we ran less than half a block. I
know it is indecorous to run in public, but it was the last trolley of the day,
so we ran. And
he was out of breath!
He was not comfortable again for
several blocks, Mama.”

She looked steadily at Rose. “That is not like him, Mama.
And he was so tired last night that he went to bed right after dinner.”

“Perhaps it is time he saw a doctor,” Rose suggested.

—

Liáng was about to knock on O’Dell’s door and offer him a
ride to the train station when the door opened and O’Dell hobbled out and
collapsed in his chair.

“I’m hungry,” he said in a grumpy tone.

Liáng nodded. “I am not much of a hand in the kitchen.”

“Was it necessary to let Miss Greenbow go? Couldn’t you make
up a name for
him
?” O’Dell pointed haphazardly behind him in the
direction of the other bedroom.

Liáng opened his mouth in surprise and then closed it. “You
are staying then?”

O’Dell stared at Liáng. He had to will himself not to clench
his teeth again. “I want to find Mei-Xing. If that . . .
miserable excuse for a man has any information, I want it.”

“I know you despise me,” the voice came from behind them.
Bao stood in the doorway of the bedroom. “I do not blame you—I despise myself.”

He slowly walked into the sitting room. “Mr. O’Dell, please
allow me to help you. I-I will do whatever you ask of me, but please allow me
to help you find Mei-Xing.”

O’Dell studied Bao again, looking him up and down. If ever
he had seen a beaten man, Bao was one.

“Liáng, I want two things.”

“Name them,” Liáng responded. “I will get them.”

“Well, first get Miss Greenbow back. She’s likely still
waiting around the corner for her trolley.”

“Wha—” Liáng frowned. “We could not possibly hide what we
are doing here from her,” he answered slowly. “Fang-Hua does not know
you
are
alive, but she will be actively searching for Bao! Miss Greenbow could
inadvertently give something away. Is it right to put her in danger?”

“Go get her. You don’t know her; I do. I will tell her
exactly what we are doing here. She will keep our secrets.”

“What makes you think this?” Liáng demanded.

O’Dell’s laugh was touched with irony. “Because she’s one of
you
.”

“Us? What do you mean?”

“
She’s a Christian
. Been preaching at me for weeks.
Now go get her before her trolley arrives.”

Liáng finally agreed and leapt to his feet. “Oh. What is the
second thing you require, Mr. O’Dell?”

O’Dell bared his teeth in wolfish delight. “A box of cigars,
Liáng. And not cheap ones either.”

Liáng slowly smiled back. “It goes against my better
judgment, but you will have them.”

As Liáng’s motor car pulled away O’Dell stared at Bao who
just stared back.

“Miss Greenbow will need her room back,” O’Dell snarled.
“You can sleep on the floor for all I care.”

Bao nodded and cast down his eyes. “Whatever you wish, Mr.
O’Dell.”

O’Dell continued to watch Bao, formulating the questions he
would put to the man.

As Liáng rounded the corner he heard the clang of an
approaching trolley. He spotted the nurse sitting on the bench, her eyes on the
book opened in her lap. She heard the trolley’s bell, too, and began to gather
her things.

“Miss Greenbow!” Liáng swung his car around into the other
lane so that he was facing the direction he’d come from. He leaned out the
window. “Miss Greenbow. We have, ah, reconsidered. Would you please come with
me back to the house?”

She glared suspiciously at Liáng whose usually neatly combed
hair was blowing in the breeze.

“You said you no longer needed me.” The trolley pulled up to
the stop, blocking her from view.

He backed up and she moved a few steps his way. “I sincerely
apologize. Mr. O’Dell has a, um, proposition to put to you.”

The trolley bell clanged and she glanced to the driver who
was impatiently waiting. She walked to the trolley door and a moment later the
driver pulled away. Miss Greenbow was still standing next to the stop, looking at
Liáng as though he had lost his mind.

Liáng swung around again, pulling up to the curb. He got out
and walked around to open the door.

With one more quizzical look, Miss Greenbow slid into the
seat. Liáng lifted her suitcase into the small rear seat and got behind the
wheel.

While Bao and Liáng waited in the back yard, O’Dell had a
long conversation with Miss Greenbow. When he had finished her eyes were wide.

“You are not joking, are you,” she murmured. It was a
statement, not a question.

“I assure you, I am not,” O’Dell answered. Liáng had
retrieved O’Dell’s baggage from the hotel while he was in the hospital and had
brought it to him when he was released. He handed the nurse his Pinkerton
credentials. “My real name is O’Dell. Edmund O’Dell.”

She held his credentials and read them thoroughly before
handing them back. Her auburn hair, glinting with a few strands of grey, had
been hastily shoved under her hat and just as hastily uncovered when she walked
back into the house. O’Dell could see she was tired.

He cleared his throat. “I have been on this case for more
than a year. Unfortunately, like the mythological Medusa, we remove one head
only, seemingly, to find another.”

She glanced nervously toward the back door. “You say there
is a man with Mr. Liáng who will also be staying here? And he is the one
who . . .” she swallowed.

“He is nothing to fear, Miss Greenbow,” O’Dell assured her.
“You have put up with me for all these weeks and, in comparison, you will find
him to be quite tame. However, we—he and I—have a great deal of work to do,
work that you cannot but help be privy to.”

He gave her a half smile. “And so I must ask you, are you
able to keep our secrets, knowing that very dangerous men are likely looking
for us? I would never knowingly place you in harm’s way, but we are trying
desperately to save our young friend.”

Miss Greenbow shook her head, still a bit overwhelmed. “I
wondered how you had gotten yourself so badly beaten just by way of a mugging.
I guess I understand now.”

She finally agreed. “Yes. I will do it.
But . . .”

“But?”

“But I will keep the extra week’s pay Mr. Liáng gave me. I
deserve it, the awful way you both treated me today.”

“Of course.” O’Dell saw then that they had wounded her. “I’m
sorry,” he said softly.

She swallowed and nodded. “I accept your apology.”

O’Dell slowly stood up. “Good. Now, could you possibly
rustle up some lunch?”

~~**~~