I carefully slid my fingernail into the crack and popped it open. Inside was a grainy photo of a woman standing next a young girl in pigtails who looked about eight or nine years old.
I raised my eyes to meet Elvis’s. “Who are they?”
“The older woman is my grandmother. She was a nurse during World War II. She was sent to Japan during the Pacific campaign and saved that little girl’s life. The girl’s mother gave her this locket as a way to thank her. My grandmother put their picture inside to remember. Now, I’m giving it to you for saving my life in Somalia. I guess you could say that I’m paying it forward.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Elvis, it’s beautiful.” I closed my fingers around it and handed it back at him. “But I can’t possibly take this. It’s a precious heirloom. You need to save it and give it to your wife, daughters or granddaughters someday. It should stay in the family.”
He took my hand and closed it around the locket. “You are family, Lexi. Please take it. It would mean a lot to my mom, my grandmother and especially to me.”
A lump formed in my throat as I put my arms around him, hugging him tightly. “In that case, I’d be honored to have it.”
We wandered out into the living room. I stayed a bit longer, drinking a beer with the twins before leaving to finish my laundry. Elvis was walking me to my car when a silver car pulled into the driveway, blocking my exit.
Elvis looked at the car and said, “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh, what?” I looked between Elvis and the car. “Whose car is that?”
Before he could answer, the car door opened and a girl with a platinum pixie haircut, dressed in a tight pink and white sweater, black tights and knee-high boots, walked up to us.
Elvis didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before she spoke. “Elvis, baby. What’s up?”
“Hey, Ginger. You’re an hour early.”
“I couldn’t wait to see you.” She planted a long, wet one on his lips. Then she looked over at me. “Who’s that?”
Elvis cleared his throat and turned to me. “Lexi, this is Ginger. Ginger, meet Lexi.”
Ginger examined me, her eyes narrowing. “She’s your sister or something?”
“No, she’s a...friend. Ah, Ginger, why don’t you move your car behind Xavier’s and go in the house for a minute. Xavier is inside. I’ll just say goodbye to Lexi and then I’ll be in, okay?”
Ginger looked between Elvis and me and then shrugged. “Fine. Can I have a beer?”
“Help yourself.”
Ginger moved her car and then disappeared into the house.
“Well, this is awkward,” Elvis said, studying the driveway.
“You think?” I hesitated and then decided to just ask. Elvis was my best friend after all. “So, what happened with Bonnie?”
Bonnie was the headmistress of an exclusive high school for technologically gifted students where he and I had been on a case together—the same school I’d obtained all three of my totally excellent interns. Elvis and Bonnie had started dating shortly after that case and, until now, I thought they were still together.
“Nothing happened with Bonnie. We’re still seeing each other.”
“Does she know about Ginger?”
“Bonnie and I aren’t exclusive.”
His words surprised me, as did the matter-of-fact tone he used. I wondered if his torture at the hands of Broodryk had anything to do with this sudden change of heart.
“Are you okay, Elvis? This doesn’t sound like you.” Elvis had always been almost as averse to social interaction as I was. Why in the world would he choose to juggle more than one relationship at a time?
“Why not?” He tilted his head, studying me. “I’m finally sticking my feet in the dating waters.”
His love life wasn’t any of my business, but this felt like an important milestone in our friendship evolution, so I decided to speak my mind.
“The serial dating thing... It’s just not you.”
He shrugged. “I’m fully aware of what I’m doing.”
Maybe he was, but I wasn’t sure. Either way, there wasn’t much I could do about it. “Elvis?”
“Hmm?”
“See you tomorrow at the lab.”
“Okay. Looking forward to it.” He started to turn away.
I didn’t want to leave things on an uncomfortable note, so I racked my brain for the words I needed. “Wait, Elvis. There’s one more thing. Good luck with Bonnie and Ginger and whomever else you intend to date. I mean it. No matter what happens, you know you can count on me as a friend, right?”
I wasn’t positive, but I thought I saw a flash of relief cross his face. “Thanks, Lexi. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
I touched the locket at my throat. “Yes, I do. Because that’s the kind of friends we are.”
Chapter Nine
Slash had texted me earlier in the day to let me know that he would pick me up at eight o’clock for dinner. While I waited for him, I did a little gaming. I expected to see Elvis playing as usual, but he didn’t show. I did end up playing a couple of games with Xavier, but I didn’t ask where Elvis was. Xavier didn’t offer the information either, so I remained clueless.
Exactly at eight, Slash arrived, kissed me on the cheek and stepped inside while I got my coat.
“How are you so punctual all the time?” I asked. “You make it seem effortless.”
“I assure you, it’s not effortless. I have at least three technological items reminding me at any given time.”
“Still, punctuality is a nice quality to have. I like that about you.”
“Good. I’m storing that in my Ways to Impress You file.”
“You have a Ways to Impress Me file?”
“Of course.”
He stepped back into my kitchen to get out of my way while I set the alarm. We left my apartment and stepped out into the cool night, heading toward the parking lot. Slash slid an arm around me as we approached his SUV.
“Any preference as to where we go tonight?” he asked.
“How about Japanese food? It’s on me. I’m celebrating a new adventure.”
He reached down and took my hand in his as we walked to his car. “Japanese sounds perfect. You’ll tell me all about this new adventure?”
“As much as I’m able. I won’t be able to provide specific details, but I can say a trip to Indonesia is in my future.”
He opened the SUV door and I climbed in. “Indonesia? Why does that make me extremely nervous?”
“Nothing to be nervous about other than the flying part. Not my favorite activity. But I’ll manage.”
He came around to the driver’s side and slid in. “I can’t wait to hear all about it. When do you leave and how long will you be gone?”
“I leave next Monday. We’re scheduled to be there for five days. Basia is coming, too, as a translator backup. There’s a chance it may go a bit longer, but I doubt it. Either what I’m going for works or it doesn’t. I don’t believe it will take more than five days to figure it out if they got it right.”
“You have me totally intrigued.”
I looked over his shoulder and saw the lights turn on from a dark sedan parked alongside the nearby curb.
“Where’s my guy in the blue Toyota?”
“He’s off duty when I’m around.”
That was a relief. One fewer set of eyes on me.
I rattled off the address for the restaurant. Slash plugged the address into his GPS and put the SUV in Reverse.
“So, what in cybersecurity has you traveling to Indonesia?”
“Well, it’s not exactly cybersecurity. I’m doing a favor for ComQuest—Elvis and Xavier’s company—by traveling in their place to Indonesia. Neither of them felt up to
world traveling, given their recent injuries. Anyway, the twins invented something totally prime and I’m going to personally oversee the manufacturing process for them.”
He slid a sideways look at me. I’d piqued his curiosity. “Any chance you can spill about the invention?”
“I totally wish I could tell you more, but you know how that goes.”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
That was one of the nice things about our relationship. We both worked in industries where secrets were the norm. We understood that about each other. However, it made me wonder if his choice of occupation had turned him into an extremely private person or whether his personality had lent itself to that kind of career. I wondered about that myself. I wasn’t sure, but here we were—two private people trying to figure out the best way to get to know each other on a deeper level. It wouldn’t be easy, but I was confident it’d be worth it...if we could ever figure it out.
I leaned back in the seat. “I’ll be spending the rest of the week at ComQuest’s headquarters in Baltimore working with Elvis and Xavier. I need to learn as much as I can before Basia and I head out bright and early Monday morning.”
I could tell Slash really, really wanted to know more, but he didn’t ask, understanding why I couldn’t answer.
When we got to the restaurant, the maître d’ led us to a booth. I ordered a glass of plum wine and Slash got a Japanese beer. Slash convinced me to try sushi. Although I’d never had it before and the thought of eating anything raw scared me, I figured I could live dangerously at least this once.
After he ordered, I took a sip of my wine and leaned back in the chair. “So, any new developments on the Asian guy who tried to take off with me?”
Slash leaned forward. “We have a name. Jian Lum. We ran his fingerprints and they pulled up a visa document. Lum was twenty-nine years old and from Tianjin, China. He came to the US on a graduate student visa six months ago to study computer science at Columbia University in New York City.”
“Computer science? Now that is interesting.”
“I did a little investigating and it turns out Lum has quite an interesting past.”
“How interesting?”
“Very interesting.” Slash took a drink of his beer. “Seems he may be connected to the Red Guest.”
I set my wineglass down. “Whoa? Seriously?”
The Red Guest was a group of dedicated hackers and a significant threat to US national security. They’d been relentless in their attacks on the NSA, the Department of Defense and defense contractors’ networks. They were a clever, talented and well-funded group, almost certainly supported by the Chinese government. I worked peripherally on the defense against some of their attacks while at the NSA. I knew their style and methods. They were very, very good.
“Si. Turns out that Lum just happens to be the nephew of Jiang Shi, who just happens to be the leader of Red Guest.”
“That’s a pretty significant coincidence.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“But what would they want with me?”
“Maybe the new project you’re working on for the Zimmermans?”
“I don’t see how. The attack happened before I even knew about the job.”
“Maybe Elvis or Xavier told someone they were considering you for it?”
I ran my finger along the stem of the wineglass. “Maybe, but it still doesn’t make sense. Why snatch me before I know anything?”
Slash sighed. “I don’t know.”
The waiter brought our food. It hadn’t taken long to fix it, I guess because they didn’t have to cook it. Slash left to use the restroom, so I stared at my plate, trying to figure out what was on it. I didn’t recognize anything but the rice. A couple of small dishes with sauces had been arranged next to our plates. I took another sip of my wine and tried not to be nervous. Sushi was considered popular and trendy. Millions of people ate this stuff every day around the world, and, as far as I knew, no one had ever died. I assumed it was safe for me to eat, especially because I was hungry.
The waiter hadn’t given us any forks. Slash was a pro, but I’d never used chopsticks before. Still, I was pretty sure I could figure it out. How hard could it be? Two wooden sticks. It shouldn’t be too difficult to calculate the size and thickness of each piece of food in relation to how much pressure I needed to use to squeeze the chopsticks together and bring them successfully to my mouth.
I choose a large wrapped up rice ball with something squished in the middle. The piece was too big, so I shook it to get it down to a more manageable size. Unfortunately, a large chunk fell off and landed with a plop in the small dish with what looked like green toothpaste. Embarrassed, I scooped it out with my fingers, taking most of the paste with me. I couldn’t figure out how to get it off the rice and my fingers, so I just popped the whole thing in my mouth. After a furtive peek to make sure no one was watching, I licked my fingers, too.
I swallowed. A nanosecond later, the heat rose in my throat, burning my nostrils. I gasped in horror. Grabbing my water goblet, I gulped the entire glass. I then chugged my wine. My throat still burned as if it were on fire and my eyes watered madly. I wasn’t even sure I was breathing.
I reached across the table and grabbed Slash’s beer. I glugged it, then drank his water, too, tears streaming down my face.
Slash returned to the table and looked at me in alarm. “Cara? What’s the matter?”
Before I could say anything, our waiter, who was carrying two beers to another table, saw me gasping for breath. He abruptly stopped, set the beers down on the ledge between the booths, and peered over Slash’s shoulder.
“Is everything okay, ma’am?”
I shook my head, pointed to my throat and the two empty water glasses. Slash’s eyes did a quick sweep of the table, including my plate, and understanding dawned in his eyes. He grabbed a water pitcher and glass from the waiter’s table near the bar and began pouring me another glass.
I stood to move toward Slash when my elbow knocked the two beers from the ledge behind me, tipping them down the back of a male customer sitting at the booth adjoining ours. The man yelped and jumped up. Given his rather wide girth, the tablecloth had become wound between his legs. Everything on his table—the food, the glasses, chopsticks and even a candle—went flying, landing on the floor with a huge crash.
I stood there in disbelief, wishing a hole would open up in the floor and swallow me. Tears streamed down my cheeks and my throat and nose were still on fire. Slash pressed a water glass into my hand and I drank it and then closed my eyes.
“This would be the exact moment that teleportation would come in handy,” I said.
For the longest moment of my life, the entire restaurant was silent. Then the man whose dinner and clothes I’d just ruined collapsed with laughter. Our waiter, who had been joined by other waiters and the manager, joined him. Soon everyone—including the customers—were howling as if they’d just witnessed the funniest thing. Maybe they had, but it was a joke at my expense.
I profusely apologized to the man and offered to buy his dinner and foot his dry cleaning bill while the busboys cleaned up the mess. He waved me off with a hearty laugh and a punch on the arm.
“Forget it, my dear.” He swiped at the back of his neck with a napkin. “I’m fine.”
I would have helped him mop up but I remembered what happened last time I got busy with a napkin.
“Are you sure?” I tried again.
“I’m sure.” He dumped a few soggy napkins on the table. “I swear I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time. Accidents happen. It’s no problem.”
Wanting to show my appreciation, I punched him back. “Well, uh, thanks for being such a good sport. I appreciate your kindness.”
After he left, I sunk into our booth and covered my face. “Someone shoot me.
Please, I beg you. Can we go now?” I asked Slash.
Slash slid into his seat across from me. When I peeked out between my fingers I could see the amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Tried the wasabi, did you?”
I sniffled. “Holy hot sauce. What the heck was that?”
“A complimentary sauce to be used with the food in moderation, especially if you’ve never tried it before.”
I poured myself some more water, but the burn was subsiding at last. I wiped the back of my hand across my eyes. “I tried using the chopsticks, but I didn’t apply enough pressure to hold the food tightly. It dropped into the toothpaste stuff. I couldn’t get it out with the chopsticks, so I used my fingers. Ate the whole thing, sauce attached, in one big bite. Epic fail.”
He chuckled. “It will pass.”
“I’m not sure about that. There is a distinct possibility I have permanently burned my taste buds for all of eternity.”
“Not at all.” He signaled the waiter to bring him another beer. “We’re just getting warmed up. Come on, try a couple of other things.”
“Are you serious? You want to stay after that?”
Slash picked up his chopsticks, his grin widening. “Certainly. You’ve single-handedly provided the most excitement this restaurant has ever seen. Customers will be talking about it for months. It will likely bring them more business than actual advertising.”
I eyed him with mistrust. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
“No.” He sipped his beer. “I speak the truth. Now, come on, let’s see how the sushi really tastes.”
“I didn’t think sushi could kill you, but now I’m not so sure.”
“It won’t kill you. Trust me. Besides, I’ll be here to perform CPR as needed.”
I was pretty sure he was laughing behind his glass. He was enjoying this, the cad.
“Fine.” I picked up my chopsticks. “Are you going to show me how to properly use these?”
“Of course. This time, however, I suggest you go light on the paste.”
No Room for Error: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Seven Page 5