No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eight (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Oh, jeez. Talk about dropping a conversation bomb. What the heck was I supposed to say to
that
?

I waited, hoping she’d laugh or clarify the comment, but she didn’t. As the pause stretched on, it was painfully clear it was my turn to say something. “Ah, congratulations?”

She didn’t respond. Apparently that was
not
the right thing to say. Why had I said congratulations? She hadn’t earned an MBA or run a marathon. She’d just professed her love for a guy who happened to be my best friend.

I was pretty sure she wanted me to engage in some kind of girl talk about him, which would veer into totally uncomfortable territory for me for a variety of reasons. I didn’t want to diminish her heartfelt declaration, but at the same I had no idea how to properly respond. For future reference, I needed to be better prepared for these kinds of situations. I made a mental note to create a spreadsheet of commonly asked relationship questions and have answers memorized for unexpected conversations like this one.

I liked Bonnie, I really did, but I was on boggy ground. “What I meant to say, Bonnie, is good luck with that.”

No, I hadn’t just said that. Oh, for crying out loud. That sounded worse than congratulations. What the heck was wrong with me?

“I just wanted you to know, Lexi.”

The tremble in her voice made me feel guilty. Jeez. I tried to come up with a better response. “Well, you couldn’t have fallen in love with a nicer guy. He’s great, really.”

“I know. Someday I hope to be as good a friend with him as you are.”

“He’s a good friend to have.”

“Yes, I’m sure he is. God, Lexi, you’re making this really hard.”

Understatement. Of. The. Year.

I decided the best approach was the honest one. “I suck at girl talk. I can barely deal with my own relationship, let alone provide useful or supportive information on someone else’s. It’s a character flaw I’m working on. Sorry about that.”

She laughed softly. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What
are
you talking about?”

“You have a sincere heart, Lexi. I know why Elvis likes you so much. I do, too. Not only do I owe you my life, but I owe you for introducing me to him in the first place. I’ve never properly thanked you for that. Regardless of how things work out between Elvis and me, you’ve done me a favor I can never repay. Thank you so much.”

I paused a moment to replay our entire conversation in my head. Why was she suddenly talking about me? What had happened to her declaration of love for Elvis?

After a few seconds of contemplation, I still came up empty. I had no freaking idea what she was going on about. “Um, you’re welcome?”

To my amazement, she laughed. “Oh, Lexi, you’re the best.”

Now I was totally confused. This was
exactly
why I had only a few girlfriends. There was no logical way to anticipate what they would say next.

“Thanks for calling. I’ll see you at the party on Saturday.”

Bonnie hung up. I stared at my phone for a full minute wondering what had just happened. While the odds were statistically high I’d never figure it out, what
was
perfectly clear was I still didn’t have anyone to help me plan the bachelorette party.

Sighing, I slid the phone back into my pocket and walked out of the laundry room. I crossed the kitchen and was just about to push open the swinging door into the living room when I heard my name. I stopped. Elvis was speaking.

“No, don’t sit there, Slash. That’s Lexi’s chair. She always fusses if one of us adjusts the height. Sit somewhere else, okay?”

There was a pause and I worried that Slash might take offense. Then I heard a chair squeak and realized he’d sat in Xavier’s chair instead.

“You know Lexi really well.”

“Yeah,” Elvis replied. “We’re a lot alike, which makes it easy for me to understand her. Our friendship doesn’t require much maintenance, thank God.”

A board creaked above me. Someone was walking around upstairs. It must be Xavier. He’d probably left to go to the bathroom. That meant this was a private conversation between Slash and Elvis...except it wasn’t because I was listening. I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t bring myself to take a step forward into that room. Yet.

“You’re a good friend for her to have,” Slash said after a pause. “I’m happy for her...that she has you for a friend. You’re important to her.”

“She’s a great friend. The best. You’re a...lucky guy.” Elvis cleared his throat. “Speaking of friends, a couple of days ago I came across this really innovative open source code that I thought you might be interested in. I’ve been meaning to tag you on it, but things got hectic at work and now...well, now isn’t the greatest time to show you. But sometime soon, if you’d like to stop by, I’ll provide the beer and the code, and maybe you can take a look at it. I’m curious as to your thoughts. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

I held my breath.
Holy cow.
Are Elvis and Slash making plans...as friends?

“Sure. I’d like that,” Slash said. “Sounds interesting.”

I must have leaned too hard on the door, because it abruptly swung open. I staggered into the room like a drunken sailor, falling onto my hands and knees right in front of Slash.

Both men stared at me.

My knee was killing me and my face felt hot. “Ah...hi, guys.”

“What...are you doing?” Elvis asked.

I searched for a plausible reason I’d been leaning against the door—one that didn’t involve eavesdropping—when Slash’s phone rang. It rang four times before he finally took it out of his pocket and answered it, his eyes still on me.

He frowned and listened for a moment longer before he spoke. “You’ve found the mole?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

I came to my feet as Slash frowned, pressing the phone tighter against his ear. “You’ve got to calm down, Charlie. I can barely understand you.”

Slash listened a bit more and then rattled off an address. “Okay. We’ll meet you there. Thirty minutes. We’ll be in a booth in the back.”

He hung up and slid his phone into his pocket.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“It’s Charlie Hsu. He wants to meet with us.”

“They found the mole?” I asked.

“No. He thinks he’s being framed as the mole. We’re going to go meet him.”

We said a quick goodbye to Elvis and Xavier, who jogged down the stairs as we were leaving. I grabbed my light jacket, as Slash and I headed out into the bright sunlight. The FBI agents looked up when they saw us and started their sedans. Slash went over to talk to them while I climbed into his SUV.

“Which one is going to follow us?” I asked when Slash climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Both.”

Jeez. Talk about overkill on the taxpayer’s bill. Not like I could do anything about it, so I refrained from commenting. “Where are we going?”

“Café du Pain. It’s in Laurel.”

“I know where it is. I’ve been there a couple of times.”

Slash drove to the café in silence. I thought about the conversation I’d just overheard and wondered if Slash would bring it up.

He didn’t.

Slash pulled into the café parking lot. The agents parked as well and while one agent stayed in the car, another one followed us in. The agent took a seat at a table near the bar with a view of the front door and the booth. Despite the fact that I was getting followed around a lot lately, I still wasn’t getting used to being watched all the time.

We ordered coffee. I sipped mine, but Slash took one drink, winced and left it untouched. Ten minutes later Charlie walked in, looking openly distressed. Slash lifted a hand in greeting and Charlie saw us, heading straight for the booth. He slid into the seat across from us, anxious and upset.

“Thanks for meeting me. Hey, Lexi.”

“Hey, Charlie.”

“Look, I’m not going to waste any time.” He glanced at his watch and then around the café. “I’m being framed. Someone set up a bogus account in my name and backdated it so it looks like it was set up three months ago. It’s not mine, I swear.”

“Where’s the account?” Slash asked.

“An offshore bank in the Cayman Islands. I wouldn’t even have known about it except I asked a friend who is in international banking to keep an eye out for me.”

“What made you do that?” Slash picked up a spoon, examined it.

“Dude, you saw the way everyone looked at me in that meeting. They think it’s me because of my Chinese heritage. No one is going to believe I’m innocent. But I’m telling you—I’m not the mole. Whoever is doing this to me is trying to deflect attention from themselves.”

“So, why did you come to me? Why not go to the top?”

“Because I don’t know who to trust. I didn’t know what else to do. You’ve got to help me, Slash.”

“My advice is to turn yourself in.”

“
What
? I just told you I’m not the mole.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you are evasive in any way, you become suspect. Go to Shawn. Tell him what you found. Be up-front and honest. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about? What the hell is wrong with you? My friend said whoever hacked in to create the account did a flawless job. How am I supposed to prove my innocence with that? This was a totally professional job. I’m in serious trouble here. Besides, who knows what else is out there with my name on it? I have to start searching on my own, find out what I can, try to figure out who is doing this. I certainly won’t have access to that kind of equipment if I’m in jail.”

“You’re not going to go to jail, Charlie. You’ll be put on administrative leave.”

“And detained.”

“True. But knowing what’s going on right now, that’s not a bad place to be.”

A wild look crept into Charlie’s eyes. “You don’t get this, man. There are millions in those accounts. I guarantee you, I’ll be locked up by midnight with all the evidence handed to them on a silver platter.”

Slash pushed his coffee cup aside and rested his arms on the table. “Charlie, listen to me. Calm down. Turn yourself in. Take yourself out of the equation. You’ve got to do it to protect yourself.” Slash was cool and in control, his demeanor almost the exact opposite of Charlie’s.

Charlie slid out of the booth and shot to his feet. He’d started sweating. “No way, man. No way. You wouldn’t turn yourself in and hope for the benefit of the doubt. Tell me the truth. Would you?”

When Slash was silent, he continued. “That’s what I thought. Look, I’ll check in with you
after
I’ve had a chance to gather more facts and see what else might be out there.” He slapped his hand on the table. “I’m out of here.”

He turned around and nearly ran into two FBI agents in suits who had walked in the café. “Mr. Hsu, will you come with us, please?”

Charlie whirled around, stared at Slash in astonishment. His eyes were filled with hurt, betrayal and anger. “Tell me I’m reading this wrong, man. You didn’t just turn me in, did you?”

Slash said nothing.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “That was cold. Really cold. I didn’t expect that from you of all people. I thought I could trust you.”

“You can.”

“Yeah, that’s real obvious.”

He turned around and was escorted by the two agents out the door. Our friendly neighborhood agent remained in his spot, interested by what was going on, but not interfering.

I shifted in my seat so I faced Slash. “Why did you do that?”

“It was for his own protection. If he’s innocent, we’ll prove it. He was about to do something really stupid. If he ran, he’d have lost his job even if he was cleared. Charlie is a smart guy, but he’s running scared. Now he’s safe and protected, as is his job, even if he’s pissed at me.”

“And if he’s guilty?”

“Then he’s right where he should be. It was a hard choice,
cara
, but it’s the right one.”

I felt a twinge of sympathy for him. Making tough decisions was not for the faint of heart. Still, I could see what the perceived betrayal had cost him and wondered how many times a week, day, hour he had to make them.

He stretched out a hand to help me out of the booth. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got work to do.”

Before I could take his hand, his phone rang. Reaching into his pocket, he answered it. He listened. The sudden, violent expression on his face frightened me.

“Understood,” was all he said before hanging up.

My anxiety heightened. “Slash, what’s happened now?”

A muscled ticked at his jaw. He fought for control to answer me calmly. However, when he finally spoke, it wasn’t anger I heard in his voice. It was pain.

“There’s been another murder.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“
Another
murder?” My stomach took a dive. I was afraid to ask, but not knowing was worse. I steeled myself and asked, “Who?”

“Trevor.”

“The deputy director of IAD? Oh, jeez. How?”

“A sniper. He was shot as he walked out of his house. Despite his considerable FBI detail and high alert, he...or she, got away. The timing, execution—literally—was perfect. Someone is providing inside information at the very top.”

My stomach lurched. I pressed a hand to my belly, where the coffee now felt like it was burning a hole through the lining. “They’re killing everyone in IAD, starting at the top. That’s the end game. Who’s in line after Trevor?”

Slash was silent for a moment before he finally spoke. “Me.”

The breath whooshed out of me. For a moment, I was frozen. The directorship of such a senior position at the NSA was unthinkable for someone barely into his thirties like Slash. Then again, there was no one like Slash at the NSA, so it made perfect sense.

“You’re...third in command at IAD?” My voice wavered.

He shook his head. “Not any longer. As of this moment I’m the acting director.”

I let that sink in and tried not to let anxiety swamp me. A tight knot had formed in my throat, so I had to force the next words out. “What are you going to do?”

“My job. I’m going to bring down the Red Guest.”

Now that he was in the crosshairs, I couldn’t argue with him on that. The only contention would be exactly how we did it. Right now our options were a nuclear bomb in the form of a black code and kidnapping and/or assassinating Jiang Shi. I didn’t like any of them. But I liked Slash getting hurt even less, so I would deal.

I slid out of the booth. “Are we going to check out the murder scene?”

“No. I’m too high a risk now. The FBI and NSA are meeting at this moment to determine what to do next regarding better protection of the people in that database, starting with me. By extension, that includes you. I’m sorry,
cara
. We cannot return to our homes. You’re going to have to go on an extended break from X-Corp. Shaughnessy is going to be pissed at me. Again.”

“Oh, we’re back to Shaughnessy now?”

“I don’t see our so-called developing friendship on the fast track at the moment.”

I looked over his shoulder at the FBI agent in the bar watching us. He was talking on his cell. Our eyes met as he hung up and stood. In a few steps, he’d reached us.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said to Slash. “I’ve been instructed to bring you and Ms. Carmichael in.”

Where
in
was, I didn’t know. Looked like I wouldn’t have any say in the matter anyway.

Slash removed his wallet and threw a couple of bills on the table. He paused and then held out his hand. Emotion, regret and concern flashed in his eyes. “Are you with me?”

As if I’d be somewhere else when he needed me most. I put my hand in his. “I’m with you.”

He gave it a quick squeeze. “We’ll get through this, okay?”

I managed a smile and squeezed back. “Okay.”

* * *

“How long do we have to stay in this safe house?” I unpacked the backpack filled with my clothes into a dresser that wasn’t mine. We’d been moved to a heavily treed residential neighborhood in northwest DC. The house sat at the end of a dead-end street and was fairly private, although two other large homes were a short walk away.

“Hard to say.” Slash was not comfortable with the situation either. He hadn’t bothered to unpack his duffel. He sat on a corner of the bed working off his laptop. “Long enough for me to write the code and figure out if we have one or multiple assassins.”

I sat next to him on the bed, putting my chin on his shoulder. “You do realize this safe house thing is totally going to put a crimp in my bachelorette party planning.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t look up from the monitor. “Can you outsource?”

“I’ve been working on that without success. I think I’m going to have to take it to a new level.”

“Don’t worry. We won’t miss the parties even if it takes the entire damn FBI surrounding the clubs.”

“That’s good to know.” I had no idea how the rest of the week would play out, but it was clear it wouldn’t be the norm. “So, what did Finn say when the FBI agents told him I’d be out of commission for at least a few additional days?” I was a bit worried that Finn might be reaching the end of his patience with the government pulling me away for missions, but since it was out of my hands, there wasn’t much I could do about it.

Slash paused his typing, flexed his wrist. “What could he say? He’s just beginning to fully understand that you are on a perpetual standby loan to the US government. They have only to play the national security card and he’s between a rock and a hard place. Knowing Shaughnessy, however, I’m sure he’ll be in negotiations to figure out a way to get the government to compensate him for your time spent away, which I fully support.” He paused, stretched his arms above his head. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t ask for this.”

“This isn’t on you, Slash. It’s on me. I’m the one who sat down at that reserved table, not you.”

“That wasn’t coincidence. It was fate. There’s a reason you sat in that chair.”

“I don’t believe in fate.” I rolled my neck, working out the kinks.

“Really? Why not?”

“Because I believe in random occurrences and conscious choices.”

He glanced up from the keyboard. “Why not include fate with those? Quantum physics offers plenty of evidence for the existence of both fate and choice. There’s the theory that our conscious choice is already determined and shaped in advance by parameters of the known universe, contradicting the popular definition of free will. Therefore, it’s actually grounded in science to say that fate—or if you are religious, a higher authority—is what guides us as we make our personal choices within predetermined parameters.”

I thought it over. It
was
an intriguing concept. Were fate and choice intertwined?

“That’s pretty interesting, Slash. It’s hard to argue against a quantum physic understanding of existence in a deterministic and time-symmetric universe.”

“Exactly. Consider it. If we want to take our understanding of reality to a new level, it will require us to seek out a balance in our own conscious understanding of the universe. Why must you believe in one or the other when it’s perfectly logical to believe in both?”

“I have to think about that.”

“You do that and we’ll talk again. I look forward to it, and many more interesting conversations with you.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek before he started typing again. I liked that he often kissed me for no other reason than the sake of showing affection. It was incredibly comforting.

His fingers tapped steadily on the keyboard. I squinted at the screen. I had assumed he was working on the dark code, but after watching him for a minute, I realized that wasn’t what he was doing.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m in the NSA rewriting an encryption code.”

“What? Why?”

His fingers flew across the keyboard. “I have an internal chip that monitors my whereabouts and life signs. There’s a good chance the mole knows that, too. Requesting the proper authorities at the NSA to turn it off will take too much time. So, I’m shutting it off myself.”

“That’s really going to make a lot of people mad.”

“Only if they know I did it.” He gave me a mischievous grin. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“That’s pretty naughty.” I shook my finger at him. “Pulling one over on your employer isn’t ordinary operating procedure.”

“These aren’t ordinary times.” Slash pulled up another window and typed something in. “No one will get hurt, and, in fact, we’ll be better protected.”

“They wouldn’t agree.”

“They wouldn’t understand.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I let out a breath. “Still, changing the encryption code won’t last for long. This is the NSA after all. Someone will break it.”

“I don’t need long. A few days will be enough.”

I wiggled my legs in front of me. My knee was sore, but still feeling a bit better. “Okay. Your call. Give me something to do. Can I help you finish it up?”

“You could. But I need assistance elsewhere.”

“You do? Where?”

He pointed at a spot on the back of his neck. “Here.”

“Your neck?” I stared at the skin on the back of his neck. “Are we still talking about the chip?”

“Maybe.”

“Is that where you have your chip implanted?” When he didn’t answer, I crawled onto the bed and examined the back of his neck with my fingers. “I don’t see anything.”

“Try harder.”

I pressed and kneaded, but still felt nothing. “Nope. I got nothing.”

“Use your mouth.”

“
What
? Are you kidding me?”

“I would never kid about matters of national security.” He kept typing, his fingers never slowing. He had about six windows open and was hopping back and forth between them. I was torn between watching him work and looking for the chip.

“The lips and mouth are among the areas on the human body with the highest concentrations of receptor cells,” he said after a series of dazzling moves. “Since there are a multitude of receptors on your lips, there is a greater chance you’ll find it. Give it a shot. You might come up lucky.”

Carefully, I pressed my lips to his neck. I nibbled around the back of his neck, up behind his ear and even down beneath his shirt across the tips of his shoulders. I came up empty.

“I can’t find it.”

He closed the laptop and stood.

“What are you doing?” I asked in surprise, sitting back on the bed.

“I’m done.”

“That was fast. You broke and rewrote the encryption already?”

“I did.” He set the laptop on the dresser, pulled off his boots and socks, and then removed his sweater. He wore only a tight black T-shirt and jeans. “I found myself motivated to finish quickly.”

“But I didn’t find your tracker yet.”

He held up his left hand and pointed to his wrist. “That’s because it’s here.”

“Oh, really. Then why was I looking on your neck?”

He grinned and pushed on my shoulders, gently pushing me so that I lay on the bed on my back looking up at him. “Why do you think? You didn’t really buy that whole it’s-hidden-in-my-neck thing, did you?”

“Of course, not. I knew you wanted a bit of necking...pun intended. It was fun playing along. After all, as you know, I’m in full support of activities that support our national security.”

He laughed and brought my hand to his lips before kissing it. “And
this
is why I adore you.”

I rested my hands on his shoulders. “So, does this mean no one can track you as of this moment?”

“It does.”

“How much time do we have before someone notices the chip is off?”

“Oh, they’ve already noticed. But it will take them fifteen minutes to run the diagnostics to make sure it’s not a software glitch and another fifteen to let the appropriate persons know it’s not a glitch. After that I’d give them another twenty to inform the FBI and five minutes after that to inform our personal detail here. That makes a grand total of fifty-five minutes. Plenty of time.”

“For what?”

He smiled as he lowered his mouth to mine. “More necking.”