White Ginger (12 page)

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Authors: Thatcher Robinson

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: White Ginger
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His lips quirked up in amusement. “You're not angry, are you?”

“Only at myself,” she replied. “Every time I see you I end up naked. I feel like a fool.”

“Is ending up naked a bad thing?”

Jason waited patiently for an answer. He looked at her warily.

Bai let out a weary sigh. “I don't really know. I seem to have my life under control, and then I see you and my life's out of control again. I feel like I'm riding a roller coaster.”

“It's a fun ride,” he quipped.

“That's not the point. We both know it's a fun ride. The sex is amazing. But the thing about a roller coaster is that you always end up right back where you started.”

He shrugged off the comment. He didn't seem worried. Maybe the pattern worked for him. It definitely wasn't working for her.

She sat back quietly. Postcoital lethargy quickly caught up with her. If there'd been a bed, she'd have been sound asleep. As it was, she could barely keep her eyes open.

Jason seemed to recognize her condition. “You can sleep on the plane.”

He knew her well. Better than anyone, in some ways. She leaned back farther into the soft leather of the seat while choosing to ignore his suggestion. Her eyes closed. The compartment hummed with the muted sounds of the road. Her heartbeat slowed. Her breaths deepened. She drifted.

 

Bai blinked. Lights shimmered in her eyes as she tried to focus.

Jason leaned into the car to tug at the sleeve of her jacket. She realized, with a start, she'd fallen asleep. Lethargy continued to cling to her like a needy child. She rubbed at her eyes while clambering out of the double-parked car to stumble upright onto the black asphalt—a less than graceful exit.

Bai watched as Jason retrieved the bags from the trunk of the car before he stopped to speak with the driver. She couldn't hear what was being said over the noise of traffic. The limo sat amid the chaos of the drop-off zone at San Francisco's International Airport. Cars and shuttle buses jostled for space to the tune of honking horns and loud, colorful suggestions offered up by drivers and passengers alike.

Jason and the limo driver turned in unison to watch a black SUV cruise slowly by. Jason then nodded once to the driver before turning to walk toward her with a bag in each hand.

Bai stepped backward toward the curb with her attention focused on Jason. She almost fell over a woman exiting a cab behind her. A matron with gray hair and rounded hips turned with a startled expression to stare at her, dumbfounded, no doubt, to find a stranger, first tripping over her then clutching at her to keep from falling.

“I'm so sorry,” Bai said in apology while trying to straighten the woman's sweater she'd accidently tugged aside.

The matron brushed Bai off with obvious annoyance and walked away wordlessly. Before Bai could give the angry woman another thought, Jason stepped up beside her.

“I think that's everything,” he said.

Her attention was pulled back to the SUV exiting the terminal. She nodded toward the departing vehicle. “What was that all about?”

He shrugged the question off. “It's probably nothing. We can discuss it when we're inside.”

Shifting a bag to his other hand, he latched on to her elbow to guide her through the glass doors of the terminal. She allowed herself to be steered through the yawning building. Passengers, most of them trailing wheeled luggage, scurried in all directions as Jason deftly led her through the crowd to the Air Canada ticket booth. They bypassed the lines to walk up to the first-class counter, where their passports were given a cursory glance before tickets were dispensed. Thirty minutes later, they made their way through the security gate and into the boarding area.

Jason touched her arm to get her attention. “We might as well wait in the first-class lounge. We have a while before our flight leaves. I'm buying if you're drinking.”

“This is new,” she said. “You usually get me drunk before you have your way with me. Now I'm confused.”

“Think of it as priming the pump,” he grinned.

“I'd suggest you think of it as a dry well,” she responded as she waltzed past him.

Strategically placed leather chairs and glass coffee tables filled the lounge. The seating arrangements were placed just far enough apart to provide privacy as long as conversations were conducted in a discreet manner. He followed her to an unoccupied nook where she took a seat.

He dropped the bags into a corner chair. “What are you having?”

“Glenlivet over ice. The older the better.”

As he turned toward the bar, she opened her phone to retrieve her forwarded messages. The first two messages were from her lawyer, Robert Hung. He informed her that the negotiations on the real estate exchange—the one with
Sun Yee On
—were shaping up as anticipated. The second message asked that she meet with him in person as soon as possible on an urgent matter. The third message proved to be even more disturbing. The caller, a man who didn't identify himself, delivered a threatening, profanity-laced tirade. The caller didn't just threaten her; he threatened her daughter.

She closed the phone, her temper vacillating between red hot and deadly cold. Jason returned a few moments later and placed her scotch on the coffee table next to her. He seated himself adjacent to her as she picked up the drink. She swallowed deeply before opening her phone to replay the last message for Jason's benefit, sitting silently as the voice ranted. When the message ended, she closed the phone and sat back to wait for his reaction.

He took a deep breath and spoke in a clipped voice. “We were followed to the airport.”

Jason's composure never wavered. His eyes were distant as if he were looking for something on the horizon. When he tilted his head, he focused his attention on Bai, and she drew back reflexively at the anger behind his unblinking pretense. He frowned when he saw her reaction but didn't say anything. His fury wasn't directed at her.

She finally asked, “Did you recognize them?”

His eyes dropped. “No. They picked us up at your place and followed us as far as the terminal. I got a look at the passenger when the car passed us in the white zone. He was Anglo.”

Bai sat quietly and sipped her drink. She couldn't think of anyone who might want her followed. Sammy Tu, even if he knew she was looking for him, wouldn't hire muscle to follow her. The attack on Dan at school didn't warrant that level of response. It was kid's stuff.

She shrugged her shoulders, at a loss. “That was the black SUV you were watching in the unloading zone?”

He nodded.

“Should I hire additional protection for Dan?”

“It's already done. I have men assigned to her around the clock. Lee's been made aware, as has Tommy. I'd hoped to spare you the details.”

“So, that was the conversation you were having with the driver?”

Jason nodded and looked at Bai soberly. “I didn't want instructions going out over a cell phone. It's not safe.”

“I owe you. Again.” The words were spoken softly.

He shook his head. “She's my daughter, too. Anybody even thinks of touching her, and I'll kill them.”

“I can't wait until she's old enough to date.”

He smiled bitterly. “I've already explained the situation to Dan. We'll discuss dating when she turns thirty.”

“I seem to remember we started dating considerably younger.”

He didn't answer. He simply raised his eyebrows and stared at her.

“Point taken,” she conceded, sipping her scotch.

“Do you want another drink?” he asked, while getting to his feet.

“Why? You still hope to get lucky?”

“You and I both know luck has nothing to do with it. I have skills,” he bragged.

“I'll pass on the drink. I'm still thinking about the other.” Jason was cocky, but he was also right. The man had skills. She smiled, in spite of her lingering resentment. “While you're getting another drink I'm going to check my makeup.”

Jason nodded in acknowledgment then raised his empty glass to let Bai know where he was headed. He turned his back to her and walked toward the bar. Picking up her bag, she headed in the opposite direction toward the restroom just around the corner.

She pushed open the door of the ladies room. The amenities for first-class fliers were sumptuous by airport standards—it was more of a lounge, really. There was a seating area with divans and a row of vanities stocked with miniature deodorants, hair sprays, and face creams. In the back was a separate area with showers.

She stopped to look at the products in the vanity area before strolling around the corner to look at the showers. Curiosity compelled her to draw the curtain aside.

The click of a shutting door caused Bai to cut short her inspection. The sound of a stall door opening and closing suggested she was no longer alone in the lounge. She didn't pay the entrant any attention until she heard the clacking of a second stall's door being shoved open. A third slapping door elicited a twinge of apprehension.

Bai retraced her steps to the partition wall separating the showers from the toilets. Turning the corner, she watched as the matronly woman, the one she'd tripped over earlier, pushed at another stall door. Bai witnessed the disappointment written across the woman's features when she found the stall empty.

She must have sensed Bai's presence because the woman slowly turned to face her. A smile spread across her face as she spoke in a reassuring voice. “There you are, dear. I've been looking for you.”

Bai stared at the woman and pointed to her own chest while thinking the woman must have been mistaken. “Me?” She cleared her throat. “Why would you be looking for me?”

The matron smiled and stretched out a hand toward Bai. “I was so rude outside, earlier. I wanted to apologize. My behavior was inexcusable.”

“You had every right to be upset,” Bai replied. “I was careless, not looking where I was going. It was my fault entirely.”

The woman's hand, which Bai ignored, slowly dropped to the matron's side. Bai felt uneasy. The notion of the elderly woman's following her to apologize, though plausible, didn't ring true. Bai's gut was telling her that something was very wrong.

“If you'll excuse me, I have a plane to catch,” Bai explained as she sidestepped toward the door.

The woman took two quick steps to block Bai's path. Her smile widened as her arms spread to herd Bai back toward the vanities. “You can't leave yet, dear. We've barely become acquainted.”

She advanced rapidly toward Bai with her hand stretched out as if to take Bai's arm. Bai slapped the hand away and rabbit-punched the woman in the face with a closed fist, a reflex. The woman's head snapped back as she stumbled before regaining her balance. Bai darted toward the door again, but the woman moved fast and jumped into the aisle to block her escape.

“They didn't tell me you were a fighter.” The woman spoke with a clinical detachment while steely eyes betrayed her anger. She stared malevolently at Bai while she wiped blood from her lip. “They said you were an easy target, a civilian. The Major will have some explaining to do.”

“Who are ‘they'? Who's the Major?” Bai asked. “Why are you doing this?”

The woman smirked and ducked her head. “It's just a job, dearie. We all do what we must. It doesn't mean we can't be civil, does it?” Her words sounded consoling. “What's really important is that you stop all this foolishness. I just want you to take my hand and trust me.”

The woman stretched her hand out to Bai and smiled. Her blood-stained teeth gave the woman a predatory look.

“Does that line really work for you?” Bai asked in amazement.

The matron's grin widened as she gestured with outstretched palms. “More often than you might think.” She edged closer to Bai as she spoke. “Most people are sheep. If you treat them kindly, they're remarkably cooperative.”

Bai stepped away from the vanities to the center of the aisle where she'd have more room to maneuver. She dropped her bag to the floor to free her other hand and started to reach for her knife. Then she stopped. The knife was at home in her closet where she'd left it, knowing she couldn't take it through security. “Shit,” she uttered, as she raised her fists and settled into a fighter's stance.

Bai backed away. The matron followed, heavy brogues edging forward cautiously on the tile floor. Her feral smirk remained fixed in place as she stalked Bai, like a grinning wolf.

Bai studied the woman while retreating one step at a time. She attempted to return the woman's smile but had difficulty making her face muscles work. She quickly dampened her fear as she noted every detail of the woman's appearance in an attempt to fully assess her assailant.

The gray hair was obviously a wig that had been knocked slightly askew by Bai's punch. Padding had been added to the woman's waist and hips. A gray sweater and gray skirt, worn loose, would allow freedom of movement. The heavy brogue shoes added two inches to her height and considerable weight to her feet. From the obvious attempt at disguise, Bai surmised the woman was both younger and faster than she'd at first thought.

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