Free Black Karma by Thatcher Robinson

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.
    â€œIf 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?”
    â€œI have a friend staying at your hotel, a Miss Wen Liu. Could you tell me what room she’s in, please?”
    â€œI’m sorry. We can’t disclose that information. I could connect you, if you’d like.”
    â€œNo, 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.”
    â€œYou think you can talk your way inside?”
    â€œAm 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.
    â€œAlmost 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.
    â€œI 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.”
    â€œI’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?”
    â€œI want you to go out with me.”
    â€œWouldn’t you rather be with someone your own age?”
    â€œNo. 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