Interference

by Danielle Girard

  “No problem. Let’s talk tomorrow night or Saturday.”

  Sophie called a few minutes later, and Mei caught her up on the events of the day. “Amy?”

  “Did you see her that night?” Mei asked.

  “I barely know what she looks like, but I don’t think so. I didn’t see anyone who looked familiar other than our group. And Lanier cut you out of it?”

  “Completely.”

  “I’ve heard she’s a bitch,” Sophie said.

  “Well, she was today.”

  Sophie offered her a ride home. “We could grab a drink on the way?”

  “Can’t tonight,” she said vaguely, unsure how much Sophie knew about the Rookie Club. “But I was thinking about going to take a look at my new apartment tomorrow.”

  Sophie let out a whoop. “You got it!”

  Mei laughed. “Yeah.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” Sophie said. “Are you excited?”

  The answer to that question should have been so complex. Renting a place of her own without consulting Andy said in no uncertain terms that their marriage was ending. He would hear that clearly. That she didn’t consult even her parents or Ayi spoke volumes as well. And yet, staking a claim on her own space, the independence of the decision, that felt distinctly right.

  “Mei?” Sophie asked.

  “I am,” Mei said honestly. “Really excited.”

  Mei hung up with Sophie and hailed a cab to Ayi’s. Waiting for the bus would merely have drawn out the process of the inevitable. If she told Ayi tonight, it was one less person to deal with tomorrow. She was due to fly to Chicago in three weeks, but it couldn’t wait. She would see if she could find a reasonable flight to go next weekend. Moving forward felt really good.

  At the house, Ayi was on the living room floor, using a little pair of scissors to trim a house plant. She wore her little brocade slippers and black jersey pants that she often wore around the house. On top she wore a gray sweater, hanging long on her small frame. She looked like a teenager from the back.

  “Did you stay home from work?”

  Ayi started at the sound of her voice. “Mei Ling,” she said, calling her by her full name. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m home from work. What’s wrong?”

  Just then, Hui emerged from the kitchen, carrying a spoon. “You have to try this,” she said, heading for Ayi. Two steps in, she realized something was wrong. Her gaze shifted from Ayi to Mei. Her spoon tipped and some of the liquid slid onto the floor. It was as though Mei had caught them naked.

  The two shared a look and Mei noticed that Hui wore a pink sweatshirt. A cable car was stitched onto its front, just like the one Ayi had. Mei stared at it. On the right sleeve, just above the cuff was a black stain. Ayi’s sweatshirt. Hui also wore the striped jersey pants Mei had seen Ayi in countless times. Hui in Ayi’s clothes, cooking in Ayi’s kitchen. Mei dropped her bag on the floor. How had she missed it? Ayi’s willingness to stay with Hui after the shooting. Her reluctance, in fact, to come home. Mei had been so consumed with how she would approach her parents and Andy, with the job and then the attacks that she hadn’t even seen the obvious signs.

  “Hi,” Hui said in her accented English, her free hand beneath the spoon, though most of the liquid had run off. Hui glanced between Mei and Ayi before returning to the kitchen.

  Mei looked at Ayi. “You two—”

  Ayi carried the pruned leaves into the kitchen along with the scissors. Mei followed. Her aunt threw away the leaves, wiped the scissors and replaced them in the knife block on the counter.

  Mei stood in the doorway and watched the two women. Ayi took a spoon and tasted the soup, nodded to Hui and spoke a few words too soft for Mei to hear. Not that she would have understood, as the two women spoke Mandarin to one another.

  Hui nodded without looking at Mei.

  “Come. It’s time we talked,” said Ayi and walked to the living room.

  Ayi seemed to take a moment to decide where she wanted to have this particular conversation and opted for the living room sofa. Stepping out of her slippers, she sat with her legs beneath her and crossed her hands in her lap.

  Mei sat opposite her. She was both surprised and so relieved. Looking back, there was a moment when it had occurred to her that Hui and Ayi were a couple, but Ayi’s strong ties to Chinese tradition and Hui’s marriage had thrown her off. It was only now that Mei saw the irony.

  Ayi nodded. “Go on. Ask your questions.”

  “I don’t have questions.”

  Ayi dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. “Of course you do.”

  Mei paused. “I just never realized with all your Chinese traditions…”

  Ayi smiled. “Being traditional is not at odds with being gay.”

  Mei watched her aunt. “I guess that’s the part I can’t always see.”

  “It’s not always clear,” Ayi agreed. “Your A Poh knew,” she said, referring to Mei’s grandmother, mother to Ayi and Mei’s mother. Her A Poh had died when Mei was only twelve or thirteen. What Mei remembered of her was the way her eyes followed Mei’s movements without any motion in her head. That and the smells of rubber and fish. “She knew before I knew,” Ayi continued. “When I finally told her—and I was in my thirties then—she said, ‘Men in the game are blind to what those looking on see clearly.’”

  “You and my dad and the Chinese proverbs.”

  “Not your father’s,” Ayi corrected. “Those were A Poh’s. Your father learned them from her.”

  “Do my parents know?”

  Ayi shrugged. “I think they must.”

  Mei was shocked. “You’ve never talked about it?”

  Ayi looked up. Hui stood in the doorway. She crossed the room quietly, with purpose, and sat beside Ayi. The two exchanged a look.

  “These aren’t things our parents would discuss,” Hui said. “Living in China, there was little focus on such trivia as falling in love. Honor, respect, legacy. Those were the things our fathers preached. And not to us, dear Mei. We are women.”

  Mei nodded. “I understand. It was very different. But your siblings,” she said to Ayi. “Your sons,” to Hui.

  Hui nodded. “My sons have heard the truth. After their father’s death, I chose not to remarry but to live my life as I wanted. My first son chooses to ignore what he has heard. He still speaks of suitable men for me. He occasionally invites them to dinner at my home in an attempt to find me a husband for my last years.”

  “And he knows you’re gay?”

  Hui smiles softly. “Hearing and knowing are not the same.”

  “But your younger son accepts you?”

  “He does.” Hui touched Ayi’s leg. “He knows Ayi well, has dinners with us. He does not ask questions about our relationship, but he accepts us. Much as I think your parents do.”

  “They’ve met you?”

  “Many times,” Hui said. “Ayi and I have traveled to Chicago. We’ve seen them, and they’ve been here.”

  “But you’ve never told them that you are a couple?” Mei asked.

  Ayi sat patiently. With only the slightest bit of body language, so subtle Mei had missed it for months now, Hui understood Ayi’s message that she continue. “In our generation, things weren’t said explicitly,” Hui said. “I imagine that’s still true for a lot of people.”

  Mei nodded, thinking of her own parents.

  “So we learned to read much more than we’re told. My boys are more like you. They wait to be told. It is just a difference in our ages.” She smiled softly. “I strongly suspect your parents know about Ayi and me. Just as I’m sure they know about you,” she added softly.

  Mei felt her face heat up, but neither Ayi nor Hui betrayed any emotion in their faces. Instead, they sat side by side, not touching but so clearly a unit. Mei felt like an idiot for missing it, bu
t her mind was pulled instead to what Hui had said. Her parents knew she was gay. It seemed impossible. “If they knew, why were they so against me coming out here?”

  Ayi glanced at Hui then back to Mei. “Knowing isn’t always the same as accepting.”

  “So they don’t approve.”

  Ayi shook her head. “It’s not that simple, Mei. Parents want things for their children to be easy. Secure and happy. It’s why your parents weren’t thrilled when you wanted to be in the FBI. They thought it could get you hurt.”

  “And they think being gay could get me hurt?”

  “Maybe not in the same way,” Ayi began. “But not everyone in the world is accepting. Being straight is easier, Mei. We all know that. Easier to have a normal life, to be married, to have a family and children.”

  “You make it sound like it’s a choice,” Mei said.

  Ayi smiled. “Of course it’s not a choice. Your parents know that, too. They also know that when you chose to marry Andy, it seemed like you would have it easier.”

  Mei stared at her feet. “I’m not happy with Andy.”

  Ayi nodded. “And so you need to change that.”

  After a moment’s silence, Hui stood. “I should get back to my soup. You could stay for dinner if you’d like, Mei. I made enough for all of us.”

  With that, Hui disappeared into the kitchen. As she walked away, Mei realized how much she and Ayi looked alike. Ayi’s hair was less gray and cut a little shorter, but the way they walked, the small energetic steps. It made Mei think they’d been together a long time. Mei turned back to her aunt. “She’s lovely, Ayi.”

  Ayi nodded. “She really is.”

  “I’m so sorry about everything that has happened here. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in your home.”

  Ayi glanced up at the gongbi print that Mei had finally picked up from the repair shop after work. “I will be okay. It has been nice to stay with Hui.” She smiled. “We did it more often before you moved in.”

  Mei crossed to sit beside her aunt. “I found an apartment, Ayi. I’m going to move out in a few weeks.”

  “You don’t have to move out because of us,” Ayi assured her.

  “It’s not just that,” Mei confessed.

  Ayi seemed to understand. “I’m happy you found a place if that’s what you want.”

  Mei nodded. “It is.”

  “But you haven’t told Andy?”

  Mei shook her head. “Or my parents. I don’t know how to do that.”

  “It won’t be easy, but it isn’t your job to make your parents happy.”

  Mei had so many questions about how her parents would react, but Hui came in, carrying a serving bowl to the table. “Will you join us, Mei?”

  Mei hesitated. She’d put enough on Ayi and Hui tonight. Mei needed time to clear her head, too. Was it really possible that her mother knew Ayi was gay? And that in sixty-plus years they had never talked about it?

  “I’m afraid I have to go,” Mei said, rising from the couch. “I’ve got a dinner with some people from the department tonight.”

  Ayi nodded.

  “Yes,” Hui said. “Your aunt mentioned your monthly rookie dinner. It sounds like fun.”

  “It is.” Mei stood. “Thank you, Ayi.” She hugged her aunt, something she rarely did. Ayi held her for an extra moment as though sending her off with an extra dose of reassurance. It felt like her blessing. Mei heard Hui’s words. In our generation, things weren’t said so explicitly. We learned to read much more than we’re told.

  You can do this, Ayi was telling her. I did it a generation ago. I have lived a happy life with a wonderful partner. “Thank you,” Mei whispered again, and with that, Ayi let go. Mei grabbed her coat and headed out to her dinner.

  Outside, the cool air filled Mei with a sense of renewed energy. No, it wasn’t just the air. She had Ayi’s blessing. And a role model. She paused to fill her lungs with all of it then started for the car.

  Chapter 39

  Mei drove Ayi’s car toward Golden Gate Park. Although Ayi lived only two blocks from the park, Mei was rarely there and even less often at night. The traffic was sparse and the stars bright. Maybe the Rookie Club dinner was what she needed. She didn’t know these women that well, but she had heard enough to know some of them had been through periods as hard as this one was for Mei, or harder. Everyone had surely heard about the shooting and the club, so it would be out there already. That in itself was a relief.

  All the talk also meant that she was effectively out to the whole department. Not how she’d intended to do it, but again, it meant no more secrets. How long had it been since she’d been with a group of people who knew who and what she was? Hailey, Jamie and Ryaan, they might have been the first ones ever. Now Ayi knew, too. Mei was slowly building her reality, surrounding herself with it and embracing it. That was a powerful feeling.

  As she crossed through the far side of the park, her phone rang. An unfamiliar departmental number. “Ling,” she answered.

  “Mei, it’s Grace. I’m sorry to call so late. Are you at home?”

  Mei said nothing for several seconds. Was Grace someone she’d met at the club? “I’m sorry?” she said as though she hadn’t heard the caller.

  “It’s Grace. Grace Lanier.”

  “Oh, Sergeant Lanier. I didn’t recognize your voice,” Mei said quickly. Or the fact that she’d used her first name. It probably meant she had bad news. Mei pulled to the curb in front of a house only slightly older and larger than Ayi’s. “Is this about Amy Warner?”

  Sergeant Lanier cleared her voice. “It is.”

  Mei waited.

  “Is there any chance you might be able to come into the station?” Lanier asked.

  “Sergeant, I’m due somewhere in ten minutes. I assume you’re calling with important news. Can you tell me what it is?”

  There were voices in the background. Mei heard a man’s voice. At first, she assumed it was Captain Findlay, but the voice was wrong. Younger. More casual. One she heard all the time. “Is that Teddy?”

  A moment of silence.

  “Uh, hi, Mei.”

  “What’s going on, Teddy?” Mei insisted.

  “I’d really rather do this in person,” Lanier said before Teddy could answer.

  First, they didn’t want her involved. In fact, she wasn’t allowed to be involved. Now they wanted her to come down to the station at seven o’clock on a Thursday. She had already been jerked around enough. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Sergeant, but I believe I deserve to be informed of any new information immediately.”

  There was a beat then Lanier spoke. “Amy Warner came forward and informed us that she has been trailing you.”

  “Trailing me,” Mei repeated, glancing out at the street around her. A car passed, a dad with his teenage daughter in the front seat, and disappeared around the bend. “Like following me?”

  “Keeping track of your meetings—where you were, who you were with.”

  “Why?”

  A moment of silence before the sergeant spoke. “She was receiving correspondence—via departmental email—instructing her to follow you.”

  Mei shifted the car into park and shut the engine off. “What? Who in the department?”

  More whispering.

  “Teddy, what’s going on?”

  “Ted—Teddy—has been helping me track the emails,” Lanier said.

  There was a moment of silence before Teddy said, “Someone spoofed Sergeant Lanier’s email.”

  Amy thought Sergeant Lanier had asked her to follow Mei. No wonder she’d been so skittish. Someone accessed Lanier’s account. “They do it with a virus?”

  Teddy seemed hesitant. “Uh, no.”

  “Through the department’s server or her actual account?” Mei pressed.

  “Her account,” Teddy
said.

  Mei was silent. Getting access to an individual email account was the hardest route for spoofing. It meant someone had access to Lanier. To her computer or to her log-in credentials, which meant access to the department.

  “Amy assumed the messages were from me, but I never knew anything about it,” Lanier said, sounding a little desperate. “Teddy’s been searching my computer for the last hour and a half, and he can’t find anything.”

  “Whoever did this wouldn’t have done it through your computer,” Mei said out loud, her mind spinning. “Do you access email through the secure server from home?”

  “Um.”

  “She does,” Teddy confirmed.

  “That’s the most likely breach point,” Mei said. “Run a report on any remote log-ins to Lanier’s account over the past thirty days. Check for both locations and IP addresses. Maybe we can identify the machine used to access the email server.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it right now,” Teddy told her.

  “Then, call and let me know what you find.” Mei glanced at the clock on the dash. It was five to seven. She was tempted to turn around and head home. Or go to the station. She glanced at the quiet street. “Do we have any idea if I’m being followed now?”

  “We don’t think so,” Lanier said. A beat passed. “But we really don’t know.”

  “Was Amy given a reason to follow me?” Mei asked.

  “No,” Lanier confessed.

  “But she did it anyway.”

  Lanier didn’t respond to that. Instead, she said, “An officer will be stationed at your home twenty-four seven.”

  Ayi and Hui would be protected. That was something.

  “Until we can locate this person—the hacker,” Lanier added. “What would help us is a list of everyone outside the department that you’ve been working with since—”

  “Inside, Sergeant,” Mei said, cutting her off. She took a breath and let it out. “This thing is happening inside the department. Jamie Vail and I tried to explain that to you in the meeting today. Ryaan Berry from Triggerlock and Hailey Wyatt in Homicide triangulated the calls from the cell phones we found strapped to those computers. They were able to track down three or four other cell phones involved. The calls coming from the one person they haven’t located are coming from inside the Bryant Street building.”