Alan, of meeting the two men outside the city prison, and then of telling Yeng about Chan Li.
Room service arrived. A bacon, lettuce and tomato club sandwich with a cup of clam chowder helped her to feel considerably more at peace with the world. She wiped some of the ointment off her fingertips so she could eat. Darius didn’t say anything else until her meal had ended and she was sipping a cup of coffee.
“Alan was released today,” he said finally.
“Released? Really?” She stared at him and he nodded. “That’s wonderful! But now I’m even more confused. Yeng said he was going to see that Alan was released, and it seems he did. But why would he lock me up?”
“I’m not so sure it was Yeng, C.J. I doubt he has any influence with British Intelligence, and they’re the ones who were holding Alan.”
“Why, then, was he released?”
“I don’t know. All I can say is that the next step is Alan’s.”
“It is?” Her mind was spinning. Had Yeng gotten Alan released? Or, if he hadn’t done it, who had? And why?
“One way or the other,” Darius said, “Alan is the key to everything.”
A chill swept over her. “I see.”
“He’ll try to contact you here eventually, and I suspect Yeng’s men will be watching your every move.”
“Great. Now I’m a prisoner in my own hotel room.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t mind staying with you.”
“Really? In that case, got a pack of cards?” She gave a half-hearted smile. “I’m a whiz at gin rummy.”
He eyed her. “I’ve got a better idea, Cinderella. Tonight your pumpkin turns into a coach.”
She was puzzled. “But I thought—”
“We won’t be able to leave the hotel, but it has a restaurant and even a cocktail lounge with a dance floor. What do you say? Does it sound like fun?”
Fun and then some, she thought. Did she dare go? She could stay here and rest, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. She could stay and worry about Alan, but that wouldn’t help. Knowing him, she half expected him to call and say British intelligence realized their mistake and he was going back to the Peace Corps in Sarawak.
“All right,” she said, surprised that her voice sounded so breathless. “Let’s do it.”
“Great.” He stood. “I’ll change into something more presentable. Maybe even a tie and dinner jacket. I’ll be back in no time.” Then his eyes narrowed. “But first, promise me that if Alan calls and has another bright idea, you will not leave this room without me.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, C.J.” She had already learned that when he called her C.J. he was deadly serious. “If I return,” he continued, “and you’re gone, I will personally wring your neck. Do you under—”
“Yes, yes, yes. Now get out of here.”
He looked as if he wanted to speak, but he didn’t. Instead, he quickly turned and left.
She placed her fingertips against her lips as she watched the door close behind him. In a moment she threw back the covers and jumped off the bed. She had so much to do to get ready.
She ran to the closet: two slacks, one skirt, three blouses, and only one dress, a practical rust-colored synthetic no-wrinkle sundress. Her heart sank. Packing for the jungles of Sarawak just didn’t include glad rags. As she reached for the hanger, being careful not to touch the dress itself with her greasy hands, she realized that she didn’t own the kind of clothes she would want to wear on a date with Darius.
She had to wash her hair, do her nails. She looked down at her hands and suddenly felt dizzy.
All her excitement dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. The terrors of the day came flooding back, and she abruptly sat on the edge of the bed again, still holding her hands out in front of her.
What am I doing? she wondered.
She carefully washed the ointment off her palms, reapplied only small dabs on the blisters and then covered them with bandaids. She leaned
Room service arrived. A bacon, lettuce and tomato club sandwich with a cup of clam chowder helped her to feel considerably more at peace with the world. She wiped some of the ointment off her fingertips so she could eat. Darius didn’t say anything else until her meal had ended and she was sipping a cup of coffee.
“Alan was released today,” he said finally.
“Released? Really?” She stared at him and he nodded. “That’s wonderful! But now I’m even more confused. Yeng said he was going to see that Alan was released, and it seems he did. But why would he lock me up?”
“I’m not so sure it was Yeng, C.J. I doubt he has any influence with British Intelligence, and they’re the ones who were holding Alan.”
“Why, then, was he released?”
“I don’t know. All I can say is that the next step is Alan’s.”
“It is?” Her mind was spinning. Had Yeng gotten Alan released? Or, if he hadn’t done it, who had? And why?
“One way or the other,” Darius said, “Alan is the key to everything.”
A chill swept over her. “I see.”
“He’ll try to contact you here eventually, and I suspect Yeng’s men will be watching your every move.”
“Great. Now I’m a prisoner in my own hotel room.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t mind staying with you.”
“Really? In that case, got a pack of cards?” She gave a half-hearted smile. “I’m a whiz at gin rummy.”
He eyed her. “I’ve got a better idea, Cinderella. Tonight your pumpkin turns into a coach.”
She was puzzled. “But I thought—”
“We won’t be able to leave the hotel, but it has a restaurant and even a cocktail lounge with a dance floor. What do you say? Does it sound like fun?”
Fun and then some, she thought. Did she dare go? She could stay here and rest, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. She could stay and worry about Alan, but that wouldn’t help. Knowing him, she half expected him to call and say British intelligence realized their mistake and he was going back to the Peace Corps in Sarawak.
“All right,” she said, surprised that her voice sounded so breathless. “Let’s do it.”
“Great.” He stood. “I’ll change into something more presentable. Maybe even a tie and dinner jacket. I’ll be back in no time.” Then his eyes narrowed. “But first, promise me that if Alan calls and has another bright idea, you will not leave this room without me.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, C.J.” She had already learned that when he called her C.J. he was deadly serious. “If I return,” he continued, “and you’re gone, I will personally wring your neck. Do you under—”
“Yes, yes, yes. Now get out of here.”
He looked as if he wanted to speak, but he didn’t. Instead, he quickly turned and left.
She placed her fingertips against her lips as she watched the door close behind him. In a moment she threw back the covers and jumped off the bed. She had so much to do to get ready.
She ran to the closet: two slacks, one skirt, three blouses, and only one dress, a practical rust-colored synthetic no-wrinkle sundress. Her heart sank. Packing for the jungles of Sarawak just didn’t include glad rags. As she reached for the hanger, being careful not to touch the dress itself with her greasy hands, she realized that she didn’t own the kind of clothes she would want to wear on a date with Darius.
She had to wash her hair, do her nails. She looked down at her hands and suddenly felt dizzy.
All her excitement dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. The terrors of the day came flooding back, and she abruptly sat on the edge of the bed again, still holding her hands out in front of her.
What am I doing? she wondered.
She carefully washed the ointment off her palms, reapplied only small dabs on the blisters and then covered them with bandaids. She leaned
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