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Authors: Thatcher Robinson

BOOK: Black Karma
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“Thirty.”

“That makes us the same age.”

“Thirty is young for a man.”

“Younger for some than others,” she observed. “From your behavior, I can only assume you're even less enthusiastic about being here than I am. Since that's the case, why don't we have a quiet drink, let our respective elders know we're not a match, and part amicably. If you keep talking, I fear you'll succeed in making me angry.”

Her drink arrived. She sipped while guardedly ignoring the man across the table. Mercifully, he didn't feel the need to entertain her. The knots in her shoulders and back slowly relaxed as the scotch mellowed her.

“Are you gay?” he asked. “I'm only asking because of the way you dress. And your hair. It's perfectly all right if you are gay. My masculinity doesn't feel threatened or anything.”

She no longer felt the need to smile. “It's been my experience when a man confides his masculinity is
not
threatened, it generally is. As to whether or not I'm gay, I hadn't been up until this moment. Meeting you has given me a reason to reconsider.”

He smiled. “You're very direct. I'm not accustomed to that. Most women tell me what I want to hear. My family has lots of money, an economic fact with a tendency to make the women I encounter meek. But you're different. I'm trying to decide if I like that.”

“Don't bother deciding. You're not my type. I'm not interested.”

“What is your type?”

“Men who aren't afraid of their mothers.”

“What makes you think I'm afraid of my mother?”

“You're here, and you don't want to be.”

“Don't jump to conclusions. I made a special effort to be here.”

She waved his comment aside. “I'm still not interested.”

“Older women can't be choosy.”

“I thought we agreed not to mention my age.”

“Thirty isn't young.”

“For a woman, you mean.”

Distracted, he looked up. She turned aside to find Michael Chin in a waiter's uniform standing next to her. A short-waisted, black coat showed off his broad shoulders and narrow hips.

He smiled down at her. “Hello, Bai. Can I get you anything? A cab, perhaps?” He eyed her date speculatively and smiled. “I hope I'm not intruding.”

She had difficulty hiding her amusement. “I'm fine, Michael. Thanks for your concern. You look good in a uniform.”

“Thanks. You look terrific too. I'll be sure to call. I really can't wait,” he said, and turned away, his smile vanishing as he nodded curtly at Howard before walking away.

Howard pursed his lips and stared at her. “What is it he can't wait for?”

“I promised him a date.”

He seemed to ponder the prospect. “Is it too late for me to apologize?”

“Yes.”

“I feared as much. As long as we're here, would you like to hear about me?”

She folded her hands under her chin and blinked at him. “What better way is there to pass the time than to sit and listen to
you
talk about
you?”

“See . . . that's what I mean. That's not at all what I expect from a woman. But coming from you, it's attractive.”

“I'm trying to determine whether you're remarkably dense or just droll. I'm leaning toward dense, but the biographical material I found on the Internet tells me you're not.”

“What did you find? I'm curious.”

“You're the third son of Kwan Industries. Most of your family's operations are in textiles, but you also have a finger in the emerging pharmaceutical industry in China as well as high-tech startups. At a very young thirty, you have a bachelor's in computer engineering from Harvard and a doctorate in applied medicine from USC. Rumors say you're the likely successor to the family business, even though you're neither the heir nor the spare, which indicates that your older brothers, for one reason or another, aren't suitable. Hence the reason your mother wants you married. The only question I have is why me? I'm an unmarried mother with a history.”

He sat back in his seat to look at her. The pretense dropped from his face, and he took a deep breath. “You know almost as much about me as I do. The reason you're here is I asked to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Curiosity, I suppose. I saw your picture and bio. The picture was flattering but accurate. You're a beautiful woman. The bio wasn't nearly as flattering.”

She nodded in acknowledgment. “I have a history.”

“To be honest, I wasn't sure how to approach you. You're somewhat intimidating. Your ‘history,' as you call it, reads like a crime novel.”

“Give me a minute. I'm trying to figure out whether I'm being flattered or insulted.”

“I'm attracted to you,” he stated bluntly.

“You have an odd way of showing it.”

“I'm not good with people. I'm good at making money, but people, especially women, are a mystery to me.”

“I'm sorry, Howard, but I'm not attracted to you.”

“You don't know me.”

“I don't believe I want to know you.”

He leaned back in his chair to study her. They gazed at each other while they sipped on their respective drinks in a state of fragile détente.

When he spoke, he sounded as if he were reciting. “You have one daughter, age thirteen, father unnamed but generally assumed to be a high-ranking triad member. You have another child living with you, age fifteen, relationship unknown. Your mother is actually your childhood governess and not a blood relation. Various real estate holdings in your name as well as corporations under your control place your wealth in the range of a hundred million American dollars. You work sporadically as a
souxun
finding lost people, an activity that seems to take up most of your time. Did I miss anything?”

She shrugged. “That pretty much says it all: unmarried mother, crime family affiliate.”

He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. “The details don't really matter. The salient point is, although you're wealthy in your own right, your fortune pales compared to my family's assets. Don't you find all that money attractive?”

She paused to reflect on his question. “I have difficulty keeping track of the money I have, which is far more than I'll spend in a lifetime. At some point, money becomes a burden.”

“You surprise me,” he said with a frown. “The more we talk, the more I like you. This date was just a lark, a way to ingratiate myself to my mother and entertain myself. Getting to know you has complicated matters.”

“I'm unsuitable. Your family would never accept a woman with my background.”

“You've been direct with me, so I'll be direct with you. My oldest brother is a gambling addict. My father bought him a casino in Macau thinking my brother would get his fill. Instead, he managed to gamble away the casino. My second brother is a drug addict. He's in rehab in Sweden. If history repeats itself, as soon as he gets out, he'll get high until he gets thrown back into rehab. My family isn't in any position to make judgments.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“I'm suggesting we date and get to know each other. There's something about you I find very appealing.”

“Are you sure you just don't like women who dress like boys?”

He laughed. “Touché. I deserved that. And the answer is no. I assure you. I'm very fond of women. Some might suggest, too fond.”

“The problem I have with dating you, Howard,” she confided, “is I find you to be a bit of an ass.”

“I can be a complete ass,” he assured her. “That's just one more reason to have someone like you around to put me in my place.”

She finished her drink and tipped the empty glass at him. “Sorry. Time's up. I still don't want to date you. I hope you find what you're looking for.”

As she stood to leave, he got to his feet. “Then I want to hire you.”

“I'm not that kind of girl,” she asserted dryly.

“I'll pay you a thousand a day and expenses.”

“No thanks.”

“Ten thousand a day and expenses,” he said loudly enough for the wait staff to turn and stare.

She gave him a withering look, which he ignored. “Are you done throwing money around?”

The remark seemed to set him back. “At least let me give you a ride home. I have a car and driver downstairs. It's the least I can do.”

“No, thanks,” she said, and turned to walk out of the bar.

He followed her. She ignored him and stepped into the elevator. He stepped in with her, and the security team formed around him to fill the lift. At ground level, he continued to follow her alone through the hotel lobby to the taxi stand next to valet parking. She stood in line with two couples on holiday while a parking attendant with overdeveloped cheek muscles puffed on a pipe whistle in an attempt to attract the attention of a passing cab.

As she waited, a black van with dark tinted windows pulled to the far curb. Three men jumped from the side door of the van. Dressed in black and wearing balaclavas to hide their faces, the men seemed to have their sights set on Howard.

Howard spotted them and turned to run toward the hotel lobby where his security team waited. As the men ran to intercept him, Bai ran toward them. She blindsided them and knocked the first assailant sideways into the path of the second, who managed to get tangled in the legs of the third. All four of them tumbled to the pavement. She rolled on her shoulder to spring back to her feet. By the time the three men got themselves sorted, she stood between them and Howard with her knife in her hand while his security team hustled him through the glass door of the lobby to safety.

Seeing the opportunity to grab their intended victim spoiled, the men turned and ran back toward the waiting van. Tires screeched, and the smell of burning rubber permeated the air as the black-clad assailants dove into the moving van. Unwilling to give chase in pumps, Bai stood watching, with the knife in her hand. Only then did she realize onlookers had congregated to stare at her.

She quickly slipped the knife back into the sleeve of her jacket and turned to walk back into the hotel lobby. Meanwhile, Howard issued orders to his security. “Get the CCTV discs as well. I don't want this getting out.”

When he'd finished, he turned to her. “Sorry. This is probably my fault. I asked my security to stay back so I could talk to you. I wanted some privacy. Apparently, someone saw my lapse as an opportunity.”

“Seems like more than happenstance a van would be waiting for a lapse in your security. Does this happen often?”

“This isn't the first attempt. I suspect this is the work of my oldest brother. I also suspect he's subverted some of the people closest to me.” He turned to look at his security detail with a wary expression before turning back to Bai. “He doesn't want me dead, just out of the way until after the board meeting next month.”

“Your family plays rough.”

He smirked. “You don't know the half of it.”

A black limousine pulled to the curb outside the door.

“Are you sure I can't give you a ride home?” he asked.

Her cell phone rang. Lee's voice sounded anxious. “I think you should come up to the room. We have a problem.”

“I'll be right there.”

She turned back to Howard. “Thanks anyway. It seems I still have business here.”

As she walked away he called after her. “I'll be in touch, Bai. I don't give up easily.”

Chapter 11

Bai rode the elevator to the sixth floor then walked down the hall to Lee's room. A blue-jacketed member of hotel security opened the door for her and wordlessly ushered her into the suite. She stepped cautiously through the entry to see Gary Yan standing at the doorway adjoining Wen Liu's room. Lee stood next to him with a grim expression on his face.

She walked toward them and saw that the double doors between Lee's and Wen's rooms stood open. The men shifted their stances, so she might see past them. Wen lay on the beige carpet next to her bed. She wore a white terry robe with a hotel logo. With her legs and arms splayed, she looked as if she'd been making snow angels. Her head was turned to the side. Her eyes stared sightlessly. Two holes the size of dimes marred her unlined forehead, trailing blood that streaked across the bridge of her nose to form a small pool on the carpet beneath her cheek.

Bai turned to Lee with a stunned expression. “What happened?”

“I had a pencil mic under the door,” he explained as he gestured at the long, slim microphone still lying across the doorsill. “I was monitoring her with earphones when I heard a knock on her door. She answered. I heard two gunshots and the sound of something hitting the floor. By the time I got my corridor door open, the hallway was empty. I called security.”

Yan affirmed Lee's story with a terse nod. “Camera footage corroborates his story. We have a man in a black windbreaker wearing a black baseball cap and sunglasses standing in front of Miss Liu's room at the time indicated. The gun is visible in the video. The perp then exited the building by way of the stairwell located directly across the hall. He was in and out of the room in seconds. Out of the building in a matter of minutes.”

“There were gunshots,” she said, “so the shooter didn't use a silencer. He obviously wasn't worried about making noise.”

“It's like the killer wanted it known she'd been executed,” Lee said. “I think someone is sending a message.”

“Murder isn't a message,” she replied. “It's a declaration of war.”

Yan voiced his opinion angrily. “You must have some idea of what this is all about!”

She looked at him and frowned. “I wish I did. Have you called the police?”

He nodded. “I asked for your Inspector Kelly. He wasn't available. I explained the situation but left out the part about the microphone. The hotel would like to avoid publicity. I asked the police to respond discreetly. No uniforms. I'd suggest you put your surveillance equipment away before they arrive.”

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