No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eight by Julie Moffett Page A

about the Red Guest. “Sinam Tech?”
    “Exactly.”
    It made sense. Sinam Tech was a Chinese technology company located in Silicon Valley that officially produced standard interfaces, communications and data architecture. Unofficially—thanks to certain unauthorized peeks into their network by Slash—they served as a front for cyberattacks, cyberintelligence and industrial espionage. Jiang Shi’s uncle owned Sinam Tech, so the connection wasn’t coincidental. The Red Guest was up to their freaking necks in this mess.
    “Where is Feng Mei now?” I asked.
    “Her official address is in Menlo Park, but she isn’t there. Looks like she hasn’t been there for a while. The executives at Sinam Tech claim Mei hasn’t shown up for work in two weeks.”
    “But no one reported her missing.”
    “Apparently not. Her coworkers say she had talked about going for an extended vacation. Her boss said he thought she’d turned in her vacation slip, but he couldn’t find it. An unfortunate oversight.”
    “We’re supposed to buy that?”
    “Not much we can do about it. We can’t find any records of her flying or taking a train to Washington. We’re running all train tickets paid for in cash, so it’s still possible she might have come that way under a bogus name. Her car, a white 2014 Ford Focus, is missing from her apartment parking lot, so it’s also a possibility she drove. We have an APB out on her and the car. But she rented a car to chase you down, so my guess is she ditched or parked her car somewhere and is paying with a bogus credit card and fake information for a rental. It’s smarter, safer and she’ll be almost impossible to find that way.”
    “Any luck on the kid in the bar who gave me the money?”
    “Not yet. I doubt he knows much anyway. We’re looking at nephews, kids, young male cousins of everyone remotely connected to Sinam Tech. He could have been a random pick, but for something this important, I doubt it. We’ll find him. We need to know how many more hacks were ordered.”
    He sniffed the air, eyeing the coffeemaker. “That coffee smells good. You got enough in that pot for me?”
    “Of course. I made it for you.” I turned and poured a cup for him, handing it to him black.
    He took a sip. “Hmm. It’s strong, just how I like it. You made it just for me?”
    “I did.” I was working hard at this girlfriend thing. According to the book Twelve Steps to Keep Your Relationship Alive and Healthy , it was important to do little things for your significant other to make him feel important and cherished.
    “It’s a special Italian roast,” I explained. “I’m planning to add a drop of it to my full mug of milk so I can manage to swallow it.”
    He laughed softly and kissed me on the head. “Ah, cara .” He glanced at the clock on the stove. “We have a couple of hours until dinner. Are you up for some gaming? We could do Magic Shorn or another role-playing game. Your choice.”
    There it was. Now he was reciprocating and doing something nice for me. Maybe we were getting the hang of this relationship thing.
    “Sounds great, Slash, but I thought you needed to work on the code.”
    “I do.” He didn’t quite meet my gaze. This was still not a comfortable or resolved subject for either of us. “Tonight I intend to take a small break and spend time with my girl in order to stimulate my creativity.”
    I poured a small amount of coffee into my mug already filled with milk. I stirred it with a spoon and took a sip, looking at him over the rim. “Okay, but after Shorn, I have another kind of role-playing game in mind.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”
    “You’ll have to beat me at Shorn before you can find out.” I thought of the black velvet blindfold I’d hidden in my drawer, then grinned.
    He set his coffee on the table and backed me against the counter, placing a hand on either side of me. “Details.”
    “Forget it. Intimidation won’t work. You don’t get a