Black Karma (8 page)

“I was thinking the same thing. I got a couple of pictures of her with my phone while she was trying to seduce you. Did you manage to drop your phone into the trunk?”

He smiled. “I liked that phone. It's fully charged, so we can monitor her movements for the next week. Let me see the pictures. Did you get my good side?”

“Which side is your good side?”

He smiled. “All of them.”

Chapter 9

Bai monitored the GPS coordinates of Lee's phone by using an application on her cell. The app provided the location of Wen's car to within a few meters.

“You've got to love technology,” she said.

They drove past the Emeryville exit on Highway 80 just north of the Bay Bridge. Moderately heavy traffic moved along at about forty miles an hour. A mist formed over the water of the bay. As they neared the bridge, blue sky turned gray.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Almost over the bridge. Coming up on the city.”

“Are we going to keep following her?”

“That depends on Miss Liu. Let's follow her until we get some indication how far she's going.”

“Do you think she'll lead us to Chen?”

“Wen is a woman with secrets. Daniel Chen is a man who also has secrets. I suspect some of those secrets are shared, but that's just my gut feeling.” She looked down and tapped the screen on her handheld. “The map has stopped moving. It looks like she's stopping at the Embarcadero.”

“She's either shopping or decided to take up residence at the Grand.”

A high-rise hotel known for its scenic bay views, the Grand at the Embarcadero coexisted with a multistory shopping complex rivaling Union Square for designer shops and restaurants. The Embarcadero provided lodging, fine dining, and entertainment in one location.

“If that's the case, let's go home and drop off the Caddie, pick up another car, and grab a surveillance kit. If she stops at the Grand, maybe we can secure an adjacent room and get a camera or microphone inside to keep tabs on her.”

In less than thirty minutes, they'd crossed the bridge and arrived in Chinatown. They traded the Cadillac for Bai's MINI Cooper and picked up a suitcase filled with eavesdropping spyware. Lee drove them to the rear of the Grand Hotel and parked across the street, where they could watch employees entering and leaving the building through a service entrance. Bai made a call on her cell.

A woman's voice answered, “Grand Hotel Registration Desk. May I help you?”

“I have a friend staying at your hotel, a Miss Wen Liu. Could you tell me what room she's in, please?”

“I'm sorry. We can't disclose that information. I could connect you, if you'd like.”

“No, that's all right. I wanted to surprise her. Thank you.”

Bai disconnected. “That's pretty much what I expected. There's another way to get her room number, but we need a male, youngish and alone, to get me through the service entrance.”

“You think you can talk your way inside?”

“Am I not a beautiful and alluring woman?”

Lee smiled. “You're asking the wrong man.”

She pointed through the glass of the windshield. “That's exactly what I'm looking for.”

A young Asian male, wearing black slacks, a white shirt, and a black leather motorcycle jacket, walked toward them on the sidewalk. He had a handsome face, verging on feminine—a child's face with soft edges and long eyelashes. His hair had been cut short on the sides with long bangs draped over one eye. Wires from earplugs dangled around a cleft chin.

“Almost too pretty,” Lee replied.

Bai got out of the car to intercept the young man before he reached the back entrance. When she ran up to him, she asked for his help in Cantonese.

The young man stared at her blankly and said, “Wow! You're really beautiful!”

His statement took her by surprise. She forgot what she was about to say.

“I don't speak Chinese,” he continued. “I was raised in the Sunset. Right now I'm really wishing I'd learned Chinese.”

She laughed. “That's all right.” She grabbed his arm with both hands. “I speak English. I stepped out for a smoke and forgot my key card. Can you let me in? Please? Please? Pretty please?”

Frowning, he looked at her, then at the service entrance of the hotel. “I'd definitely remember you if you worked at the hotel. If you're thinking about ripping this place off, I have to warn you there are cameras everywhere.” He nodded up at a closed-circuit camera mounted over the door. “Security is really tight.”

“I'm not here to steal.”

Two Hispanic women walking past them cast curious glances their way before using badges to enter the building.

The young man smiled at her. “I'll get you into the building if you'll do something for me.”

She looked at him warily. “Men are so predictable. What do you have in mind?”

“I want you to go out with me.”

“Wouldn't you rather be with someone your own age?”

“No. My mother taught me to trust my instincts. Everything about you tells me you're special. You're smart: you're fluent in at least two languages. From the way you approached me, you're capable and confident. And from the knife in your sleeve, I can assume you know how to take care of yourself.”

His analysis made her pause as she looked at him with interest. His steady gaze belied his age. She smiled at his coolness.

“Trust me,” he said, and made the words sound sexy.

She almost batted her eyelashes. “Where have I heard those words before?”

“Aren't you asking me to trust you?”

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I'm twenty-five. My baby face is misleading. I know I look a lot younger.”

“You seem to be full of surprises.”

His tone offered a challenge. “I believe in fate. What about you?”

She relented, more than a little taken by his disarming charm. “All right, I'll go out with you. How do you want to play this?”

“Follow me and keep your head down. I'll badge in and kick the door wide. Just stay close and tailgate me through the entrance. I won't look back. Once you're in, you're on your own. I won't be able to help you if you're caught.”

“What's your name?” she asked.

“Michael Chin.” He smiled at her. “Let's trade numbers. I'll call you later. A deal's a deal.”

She handed him her phone, and he transferred their cell numbers.

“My name is Bai Jiang.” She held out her hand to shake. “A deal is a deal.”

He held onto her hand as he spoke. “I wait tables in the lounge up top.” He pointed with his free hand, a gesture that suggested he wasn't sure she knew which direction was up, and winked at her. “I'll call you later, Bai.”

He turned and walked toward the service entrance. She did as instructed, staying close as he badged his way through the back door. Once inside, Michael went right, toward a service elevator, while she turned left to the stairwell leading into the bowels of the hotel. If Wen Liu had taken refuge in her room, she'd have to eat. And if she ate, the kitchen would have a record.

The room service kitchen was in the midst of lunch rush. Cooks yelled in English, Spanglish, Chinglish, and something that sounded a lot like Russian. The banter hummed like a giant engine amid clattering plates, sizzling food, and mechanical dishwashers that spouted steam in cloudy bursts. Garlic, curry, bacon, and a dozen other odors mingled. In the hub of the uproar stood a woman in kitchen whites with an electronic notepad in her hand and a blue scarf around her neck. She yelled instructions and fielded questions, like a ringmaster at a circus.

Bai stood in the hall and yelled, “Room number for Liu, L, I, U, first name Wen.”

“Room 626,” the woman in kitchen whites replied. “What the hell? That order should have gone out thirty minutes ago. Who has the order for 626?”

Bai had what she wanted and turned to leave.

Standing behind her stood a large man in a blue blazer with a frown on his face. He was Caucasian with a square jaw and short hair, cut military style; his voice oozed contemptuous authority. “May I ask what business you have at this hotel?”

“I'm certainly glad to see you,” she said enthusiastically. “I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to the mezzanine level?”

He reached out and held her arm. She wrapped his arm with hers and brought her hand up under his armpit, applying pressure to his elbow. Smart enough to let go, he stepped back warily.

She scolded him. “You can look, but you can't touch. Didn't your mother teach you manners?”

She thought he'd make another attempt to physically detain her, but he surprised her and took a quick step back. “Our security manager is on his way. He's asked that you wait for him, Ms. Jiang.”

The use of her name halted any thoughts of her running. “Oh crap, that doesn't sound good. Who, exactly, is your head of security?”

“Gary Yan.”

She nodded in understanding and looked up at the blinking camera mounted on the ceiling, one of several she'd passed on her way to the kitchen.

Yan had a younger sister she'd gone to high school with. She couldn't recall what he looked like, but he'd obviously not forgotten her. Five minutes later, Gary Yan rounded a corner to stride down the hall toward her. He stood around five foot eight with a beefy physique that strained the seams of his blue jacket. A round face smiled at her as he put out his hand in greeting. “Bai Jiang, it's been a long time.”

Although he spoke with a smile, his eyes, tight at the corners, informed her he wasn't really happy. She took his hand and returned his smile. Getting caught left her feeling chastened.

“How is Anna?” she asked, referring to his sister.

“Married to a dentist,” he replied perfunctorily as he released the grip on her hand then turned to his subordinate. “I'll take it from here, James. Thank you.”

James didn't look pleased, but he nodded then turned to walk away. Yan watched him leave before returning his gaze to her. “Would you allow me to escort you to the nearest exit?”

“Certainly. I'm sorry to have troubled you, Gary.”

His smile disappeared as he walked with her toward the stairwell. “I'm hoping there isn't going to be any trouble, Bai.” He glanced aside at her briefly. “Is this
Sun Yee On
business?”

“I'm not part of
Sun Yee On,
Gary. If you have concerns, you can call Inspector Kelly with SFPD. I'm doing some police work for a change.”

“That won't be necessary, Bai. If you tell me there's no need to worry, your word is good enough for me. Should I worry?”

“No.”

He opened the back door for her and ushered her out.

She walked out the door and turned back to face him. “Thanks for the free pass, Gary.”

He nodded. “Next time, use the front door, Bai. It'll be better for both of us.”

As the door swung closed, she turned away. Getting caught red-handed had ruined her mood. When she reached the car, she settled into the seat next to Lee and turned to him with a weary smile. “Gary Yan is head of security at this hotel.”

“I didn't know that.”

“Surprised me, too.” She handed him her phone. “See if you can get a reservation for Room 624 or 628. Wen is in Room 626.”

He made the call and reserved the room. They decided he would check into the hotel and use their surveillance equipment in an effort to get “eyes and ears” inside Room 626. She would monitor Wen's car on her phone app remotely. If Wen decided to use a taxi, they were screwed. Bai had neither the time nor the inclination to sit outside the hotel lurking like paparazzi. She had a blind date to get ready for.

Chapter 10

Bai planned to simply have a drink at the Grand Hotel and fulfill her obligation to Elizabeth. She didn't feel the need to dress up for her date. An outfit of black slacks and her black leather jacket over a white, pleated tuxedo-style shirt worked as a compromise between dressy and casual. She wore black pumps as a concession to femininity, while minimal lip gloss and a brush of mascara emphasized her lips and eyes.

As she stepped out of the elevator on the twentieth floor and into the lounge foyer, she noticed four Asian men in black suits wearing earbuds. Everything about the men suggested they were private security. She nodded to them as they made eye contact with her. They bowed slightly before she turned to walk into the lounge.

Howard Kwan sat on the far side of the room at a window table with a view of the brightly lit Bay Bridge. She recognized him from photos she'd researched online. Except for Howard and the staff, who stood idly by, the lounge appeared unoccupied. Music played softly in the background.

She walked up to stand before the table. “Howard Kwan?”

Looking up, he turned to study her. He subtly nodded his head to acknowledge her without offering her the courtesy of standing.

She forced a smile. “I'm Bai Jiang.

He waved his hand wordlessly for her to be seated. Handsome in a soft way, he had a straight nose, calculating eyes, and sculpted cheekbones that framed pouty lips formed into a disapproving frown. Long hair with bangs trimmed asymmetrically finished a look popular among chic Asian males.

He studied her from across the table as she settled into a seat facing him.

When he spoke his voice sounded flat. “You're old. Since I believe in being honest, I'm only stating a fact. I'm rich. That is also a fact.”

Her smile fought to stay in place. She assumed his words were intended to aggravate her. “Don't forget ‘rude,' as long as we're being honest. You're rude. And my age is something you'd best not mention again. If you do, I'll hurt you. That is also a fact.”

She waved the cocktail waitress over and ordered a Macallan's, neat. When the waitress left to fill her order, Bai turned back to face him. “How old, may I ask, are you?”