Michael Connelly - 9 Dragons

“Well, I guess I’ll find out.”

She then jumped the conversation to a new place.

“So am I going to live in L.A. with you now?”

“I think so.”

He studied her face for a reaction. It remained unchanged-blank stare over cheeks streaked with dried tears and sadness.

“I want you to,” Bosch said. “And last time you were over, you said you wanted to stay.”

“But not like this.”

“I know.”

“Will I ever go back to get my things and say good-bye to my friends”

Bosch thought for a moment before responding.

“I don’t think so,” he finally said. “I might be able to get your things sent. But you’re probably going to have to e-mail your friends, I guess. Or call them.”

“At least I’ll be able to say good-bye.”

Bosch nodded and was silent, noting the obvious reference to her lost mother. She soon spoke again, her mind like a balloon caught in the wind, touching down here and there on unpredictable currents.

“Are we, like, wanted by the police here?”

Bosch looked around to see if anyone sitting nearby had heard the question, then leaned forward to answer.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “We could be. I could be. But I don’t want to find out here. It will be better to deal with all of this from L.A.”

After a pause she asked another question and this one hit Bosch between the numbers.

“Dad, did you kill those men that had me? I heard a lot of shooting.”

Bosch thought about how he should answer-as a cop, as a father-but didn’t take too long.

“Let’s just say that they got what they deserved. And that whatever happened was brought on by their own actions. Okay?”

“Okay.”

When the food came they stopped talking and ate ravenously. Bosch had chosen the restaurant, the table and his seat so that he would have a good view of the shopping area and the security gate beyond. As he ate, he kept a vigilant watch for any unusual activity involving the airport’s security staff. Any movement of multiple personnel or search activity would cause him concern. He had no idea if he was even on any police radar yet but he had cut a deadly path across Hong Kong and had to remain alert to it catching up to him.

“Are you going to finish your french fries” Maddie asked.

Bosch turned his plate so she could reach the fries.

“Have at it.”

When she reached across the table her sleeve pulled back and Bosch saw the bandage in the crook of her elbow. He thought of the bloodstained tissue Eleanor had found in the wastebasket in the room at Chungking Mansions.

Bosch pointed at her arm.

“Maddie, how did you get that? Did they take your blood?”

She put her other hand over the wound as if that could stop all consideration of it.

“Do we have to talk about this now?”

“Can you just tell me one thing”

“Yes, Quick took my blood.”

“I was going to ask something else. Where were you before you were put in the trunk and taken to the boat?”

“I don’t know, some kind of hospital place. Like a doctor’s office. I was locked in a room the whole time. Please, Dad, I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”

“Okay, sweetheart, we’ll talk about it when you want.”

After the meal, they headed down to the shopping area. Bosch bought a complete set of new clothes in a men’s store and a pair of jogging shoes and arm sweatbands in a sports shop. Maddie declined the offer of new clothing and said she’d stick with what was in her backpack.

Their next stop was a general store and Maddie picked out a stuffed panda bear she said she wanted to use as a pillow and a book called The Lightning Thief .

They then headed to the airline’s first-class lounge and signed up to use the shower facilities. Despite a long day’s buildup of blood, sweat and grime, Bosch showered quickly because he didn’t want to be separated from his daughter for very long. Before getting dressed he checked the wound on his arm. It was clotted and beginning to scab over. He used the armbands he had just bought as a double bandage over the wound.

Once he was dressed he took the top off the trash can that was next to the sink in the shower room. He bundled his old clothes and shoes together and buried them under the paper towels and other debris in the can. He didn’t want anyone to spot his belongings and retrieve them, especially the shoes in which he had trod across the bloody tiles in Tuen Mun.

Feeling somewhat refreshed and ready for the long flight ahead, he stepped out and looked around for his daughter. He didn’t see her anywhere in the lounge and went back to wait for her near the entrance to the women’s shower room. After fifteen minutes and no sign of Madeline, he started getting worried. He waited another five and then went to the reception desk and asked the woman behind the counter to send an employee into the shower room to check on his daughter.

The woman said she would do it herself. Bosch followed and then waited when she went into the shower room. He heard the shower running when the door was opened. He then heard voices and soon the woman from the front desk stepped out.

“She’s still in the shower and she said everything is fine. She said she was going to be a while longer.”

“Okay, thanks.”

The woman went back to her position and Bosch checked his watch. The boarding of their flight would not start for at least a half hour. There was time. He went back to the lounge and sat in a chair nearest to the hallway leading to the showers. He kept watch the whole time.

He couldn’t imagine where Madeline’s thoughts were. He knew she needed help and that he was completely unequipped to provide it. His governing thought was simply to get her back to Los Angeles and to go from there. He already had in mind who he would call in to counsel Maddie once he got her there.

Just as the boarding of their flight was announced in the lounge, Madeline came down the hallway, her dark hair slicked back and wet. She was wearing the same clothes she had changed into in the car but had added a hooded sweatshirt. Somehow she was cold.

“Are you all right?” Bosch asked.

She didn’t answer. She just stopped in front of Bosch with her head down.

“I know, stupid question,” Harry said. “But are you ready to fly? They just called our flight. We need to go.”

“I’m ready. I just wanted a long, hot shower.”

“I understand.”

They left the lounge and made their way to the gate, and while approaching, Bosch saw no more than the usual gathering of security. Their tickets were taken, their passports checked and they were allowed to board.

The plane was a large double-decker with the cockpit on the upper level and the first-class cabin right below in the nose of the craft. A flight attendant informed them that they were the only ones flying first class and that they could pick their seats. They took the two seats in the front row and it felt like they had the plane to themselves. Bosch wasn’t planning on taking his eyes off his daughter until they were in Los Angeles.

As the loading of the plane neared completion, the pilot came on the speaker and announced that they would spend thirteen hours in the air. That was shorter than the flight over because the winds would be with them. However, they would be flying back against the grain of time. They would land in Los Angeles at 9:30 Sunday night, two hours before they had taken off in Hong Kong.

Bosch did the math and knew that it would add up to a thirty-nine-hour day before it was over. The longest day of his life.

Eventually, the big plane was cleared for an on-time takeoff and it trundled down the runway, picked up speed and climbed loudly into the dark sky. Bosch breathed a little easier as he looked out the window and saw the lights of Hong Kong disappear below the clouds. He hoped never to be back again.