“I am so fucked,” she muttered, sitting on the edge of her bed after a shower, trying to get the knots out of her hair. A Coke bottle stood nearby. From previous trips to Asia, she knew only sealed bottles of liquid were safe. Diarrhea would not improve her situation any. She tried Tony again and ended up throwing the phone across the room.

Early the next morning, she sat on the floor of the basement at Maya Press and searched through all orders from America, Canada, and England—for the last ten years. The publisher did not own a computer. They also did not employ a single person in the entire company with legible handwriting. After ten hours of searching stuffed cardboard boxes, she did not find any westerner who had ordered the Arundha Purana. Back in her hotel room, she called home and spoke to Anna. Daddy was not in. Kelly left a message with Anna for him to call when he came in. She never heard from him.

She was losing her mind.

The next day she returned to Maya Press and searched back twenty years. Again, no luck. Finally, a skinny stock boy with beautiful black eyes told her that the Purana was sometimes called the Samadhi Purana. Thank you very much, that little bit of information sure made a difference. Soon she had found numerous orders for the Purana. When she was finished, she had a list of fifty people in the U.S. alone who had purchased the book.

The next day she flew to Kuala Lumpur, then on to Taipei. Kola Press was located on the outskirts of the latter. She had to take a long taxi ride to get there. The boss—as opposed to the secretary she had spoken to on the phone—turned out to be hostile. He was not impressed with her FBI badge. He didn’t like anyone going through his computer records. When she pleaded that she only wanted to find who had ordered a book—and after she had given him a thousand dollar bribe—he relented and searched the database himself with her sitting by his side. It took him a minute to find twelve Americans who had ordered the story of Mai Mai in the last ten years. All Chinese surnames except one. That one happened to be on her Maya Press list.

Michael Grander. 1342 Adams Lane, Teff, Ohio.

“Mike?” Teri had said, as he pulled out the cuffs and duct tape.

“I have him,” Kelly told herself as her jet left Taipei for the infinitely long nonstop to Los Angeles. She was going home opposite the direction she had come.

But she was not going home at all. There was no point. She could not face Tony until she brought down the Acid Man. Her rationale was pure emotional bullshit. It went against every aspect of her early training. Get backup, don’t be a hero, follow the chain of command.