“Hey, that’s my line.”
That at least earned him a genuine laugh before she said, “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll see you tonight,” he echoed.
“And Connelly? I’m really glad you found the boat so Mina’s murder won’t go unpunished.”
There were all sorts of atrocities happening on the ship that weren’t going to go unpunished either—not if he had anything to say about it. But this wasn’t the time to discuss it. “Me, too. I love you.”
“I love you more,” she whispered.
“Not possible.” He ended the call and walked toward Thiha Bo with the phone still in his hands. He was going to need help once the captain returned. They had to devise some sort of action plan to maintain control of the boat until the cavalry arrived.
Before he could open his mouth to explain the situation, all hell broke loose.
Running feet pounded from every direction on the deck. Overlapping shouted commands and orders created a din that was even louder than the slap of running feet. Thiha Bo stared wide-eyed toward the sound of the chase.
“What’s going on?” Leo asked.
The Burmese man shook his head. “You wait here. I’ll find out.” He eased the door open just a crack and slipped out into the hallway.
Leo pressed himself up against the wall behind the door in case Captain Vũ or another officer decided to check on the prisoner during the commotion and scanned the sparse room for something that could be pressed into duty as a weapon if need be. Nothing. He tensed when the door opened, ready to spring, but stopped himself when Thiha Bo hurried inside.
Thiha Bo headed straight across the room toward Binh and motioned for Leo to follow so he could fill them both in at the same time. He spoke first in English and then repeated the information in Vietnamese. “We’re leaving. We were to stay here through the night and set a course in the morning, but Captain Vũ has returned in a rage. Something about two American women.” He paused here and flicked his eyes toward Leo for a brief moment. “I couldn’t make it all out. The order came down to work double time—we need to set sail as rapidly as we can.”
Binh pinned his worried eyes on Leo, as if he was imploring him to do something to stop this.
Leo’s pulse jumped. He couldn’t let this ship leave the dock. But how was he supposed to stop an entire crew, alone and unarmed? He took a long, deep breath. “Do the men trust you? Could you organize them?” he asked Thiha Bo.
Thiha Bo titled his head. “Are you asking if I could convince them to mutiny?”
Leo hadn’t really thought of it in terms of mutiny, but yes, that was what he was asking. “Yes.”
Thiha Bo sighed. “They—we—are too frightened of the captain and the soldiers on the company’s payroll. Plus, there’s no time. Maybe, if I could talk to them, little by little, over time, they would grow brave. But not like this.” He spread his hands wide in an apologetic gesture.
Leo gritted his teeth. The news was bad, but not surprising. “Okay, Plan B. Do you know where the boat’s headed?”
Maybe he could get in touch with Mel, have her patch him through to Ron, and they could send out the Thai equivalent of the Coast Guard or the Navy to intercept the boat at sea. That was a long shot and much more complicated than his original plan. But he couldn’t just do nothing and let them sail away.
Thiha Bo shook his head no. “No, but I know how we can find out. Come with me.”
Thiha Bo bent beside Binh’s cage and spoke to him through the bars in a low voice. Leo assumed he was telling the man they’d be back for him. Leo joined him at the edge of the cage and wrapped his fingers around the wires. He stared hard at Binh, then he turned to Thiha Bo. “Tell him to hold steady and stay calm.”
A wide grin bloomed on Thiha Bo’s worried face. “I don’t need to tell him. His name means peaceful, even. So steady and calm is his nature.”
With one more backward glance at Binh, Leo followed Thiha Bo out of the cabin and onto the deck.
As they raced across the open deck, the ship suddenly lurched, shuddering violently, and Thiha Bo pitched sideways into Leo, who had already lost his own footing.
Leo realized they were pulling away from the dock just as a crew member ran by him, his hands full of ropes, and knocked him into the railing with his shoulder. His wrists hit the top of the railing and he watched in horror as the satellite phone bounced out of his hands, flipped over the rail, and disappeared into the churning water below.
He didn’t know how long he would have stood there, staring down at the murky sea, if Thiha Bo hadn’t pulled him toward rickety stairs that led to the crew’s sleeping chamber.
He was on a boat piloted by a murderer, racing out to sea with no gun, no phone, and no one who knew where he was.
He’d had better days.
22
Mel reached up and adjusted her rearview mirror. Her hand trembled. “I don’t see anyone behind us, do you?”
Sasha twisted in her seat and looked through the back window at the stretch of empty road behind them. “Nope. You lost him.”
Mel let out a great whoosh of breath. “Oh, thank goodness. I’ve never been, you know, shot at before.”
“You did great,” Sasha assured her.
The legal attaché let her eyes slide away from the road and appraised Sasha for a moment. Sasha knew Mel was wondering how a civilian, a trial attorney, had stayed reasonably calm in the situation they’d just escaped and was now critiquing her performance.
“I have been shot at before,” she explained.
Mel’s eyes widened. “Okay, now I have about a million follow-up questions, but we need to pull off and call Ron.”
She eased the car to the side of the road and parked behind a stand of scrubby trees, which would at least partially obscure the vehicle from view if anyone happened to drive by. Sasha scanned the highway from both directions while Mel checked in with her boss. She filled him in dispassionately, as though she were chased by gunmen on at least a weekly basis. Sasha admired her steely attitude.
After Mel began to explain about the boat docked back in Samut Prakan, her demeanor changed. It seemed that Ron was doing a lot of interrupting; and, from the agitated way Mel was drumming her fingernails on the steering wheel, Sasha suspected she didn’t like what she was hearing.
“But, sir--” Drum, drum, drum.
“I think that--” Drum, drum, drum.
“No, sir--” Drum, drum, drum.
Mel stole a glance at Sasha then scrunched up her shoulders and made what sounded like the beginning of an impassioned plea. “Please, Ron--”
She deflated like a forlorn balloon. “I understand. Yes, sir. Will do.”
She jabbed the button to end the call and turned to Sasha. “You’re not going to like this.”
That sounded about right. So far, there was precious little that Sasha liked about the ‘exciting shore side excursion in exotic Thailand,’ promised in her cruising itinerary.
“Just tell me. Don’t bother sugarcoating it to make Ron sound good.”
Mel twisted her mouth into a wry smile. “Actually, he’s probably right—as irritating as that is. He wants me to take you back to your cruise ship.”
“What? No.”
Mel raised both hands. “Hang on. Hear me out. Despite how it must look to you, Thailand isn’t the Wild West. It does have a drug-trafficking problem, the usual purse snatchings and thefts that always pop up in tourist destinations, and the drugging of drinks that I told you about. But it’s actually highly unusual to be chased through the streets by a shooter. Whatever you saw out in the gulf, it must be tied to something bigger than an isolated murder. We don’t know what that is. And that means Ron and I can’t protect you. It’s not like we’re in a Bureau field office with backup. We’re attached to the embassy. It’s a diplomatic outpost. And whatever this woman’s death has stirred up, it’s going to have political ramifications that we’ll have to manage.”
Mel paused f
or a breath. Sasha interjected, “Ron didn’t say the murder of this Mina person stirred up anything. Connelly and I stirred it up, right?”
Mel shrugged and didn’t answer, which Sasha took as a yes.
“That doesn’t really matter. We can’t guarantee your safety. Ron pointed out that we’re on the only really viable route to Bangkok. It would be exceedingly easy—child’s play—for a reasonably connected criminal enterprise to send someone from a village up ahead to ambush us. Look around. There’s nowhere to go.”
Sasha frowned. It was true. The highway, such as it was, was a single ribbon running along the coast. There didn’t appear to be many exits or alternate roads.
“So, how’s it safer to turn around and drive back toward Samut Prakan? We’d have to go right past the turn off. What if there’s someone waiting there to ambush us?”
Mel nodded. “Right.” She paused and cleared her throat. “So, um, Ron’s calling Sacred Lotus. He’s going to arrange for someone from The Water Lily to come out here and escort you back to the ship.”
Sasha choked out a laugh. “Wait, so to ensure my personal safety, the highest representative of Federal Bureau of Investigations in this entire country wants to hand me off to a gopher from a cruise ship? Is this a joke?”
Mel wasn’t laughing.
Suddenly Sasha’s lawyer-brain woke up and everything clicked into place. “Of course. This is to avoid liability. If I happen to get ambushed and killed while some crew member’s ferrying me back to The Water Lily, Ron’s hands are clean. The Bureau won’t be responsible for my safety at that point.”
Mel was silent.
“Mel, this is stupid.”
“It’s out of my hands. I’m really sorry. I’m authorized to stay here with you until someone employed by Sacred Lotus Cruises shows up. Then I’m supposed to head back to Samut Prakan and find your husband.”
Connelly.
“How does the Bureau’s desperate need to deny involvement impact him? Is Ron at least going to send the police to the dock?”
“I understand your frustration, I do. But you have to believe me, Ron’s a pro. He’s going to make sure that captain’s taken into custody as quickly as possible. And then he’ll have someone bring Leo back to the ship. It’s a different situation with your husband because he’s an agent himself ... or a former agent? A contractor? Whatever he is. He’s not a civilian.”
Sasha gritted her teeth and bit down hard to prevent herself from saying something unkind and regrettable. After she had her temper firmly in hand, she let out a breath.
“He’s alone, with no backup. He doesn’t speak the language. And he’s investigating a murder. Regardless of his current or former relationship to your employer, any halfway decent attorney will have a slam dunk case if he so much as gets a scratch. And I’m a damned sight better than halfway decent at my job, just so you know.” Her voice shook with a potent mixture of frustration, anger, and fear.
Mel blinked. “I understand.” She placed a hesitant hand on Sasha’s arm. “He’ll be fine. From everything I’ve heard, he’s also damned good at his job.” Then a thought struck her. “He is armed, right?”
Sasha shook her head miserably. “No. He’s not carrying a gun. All he has is that fancy phone of his.”
They sat in silence for a moment as Mel processed that piece of news. Then she said with forced cheerfulness. “We should call him and bring him up to speed.”
She punched his number into her phone without waiting for Sasha to respond.
“Here, I’ll put it on speaker,” she offered.
The tinny sound of ringing filled the car. Connelly’s phone rang and rang. And rang. And rang.
With each trill, Sasha’s heart sank closer and closer to her stomach.
23
The man returned to the room in a foul mood and with a thunderous face. He ignored Jan, who had roused himself long enough to watch the Thai storm into the room, and picked up the telephone handset.
Jan reclined on the couch and tried to tune out the man’s angry telephone call. He didn’t understand the language well enough to follow the substance of the call, but the man’s tone was sufficiently agitated that it interrupted Jan’s pleasant, meandering thoughts and distracted him from his high.
As Jan half-listened, he realized the man was talking to one of his bosses. Despite the visible rage in his posture and body language, his voice was controlled and somehow deferential. The fact that the bodyguard/drug dealer/enforcer was speaking to someone at Thale unleashed a worry that nibbled at the edges of Jan’s drug euphoria, bit by bit, until it had been devoured entirely.
Great. Now he was in a foul mood, too.
He slumped back and crossed his arms, staring at the Thai until he finished his conversation. When the man returned the phone to the desk, he immediately met Jan’s gaze. “It’s time for you to go.”
“Go?” Jan gave him a look of confusion. “I’m paid up through the night—until morning. That’s the arrangement.”
“Well, the arrangement’s changed. The new arrangement is that you need to get out. Now.” He slammed his palm down flat on the desk for emphasis.
The sharp noise startled Jan, and he jumped. He considered requesting a refund. But, after taking a closer look at the man’s murderous expression, he decided that, given the circumstances, it would be prudent not to stand on principle. “Of course. Could you arrange transportation for me back to Laem Chabang?”
He would have to return to the ship. He didn’t dare risk partying anywhere public. The entire point of reserving the room at Bar Pavot was the privacy it afforded him.
As the man considered Jan’s request, a satisfied expression replaced his scowl. “I will. Yes, that will work.”
Jan blinked in surprise at the way the man had acquiesced so easily. Something about his words made Jan think the agreement would come with strings attached. He waited.
“You say the woman who is making the trouble is a passenger on your ship, yeah?”
The woman. This was all about that blasted Connelly woman.
“One of them is,” he answered carefully. “The small, dark-haired woman is a passenger, yes. I believe the other woman is attached to the American embassy. You didn’t catch up with them, did you?” The man’s frenetic anger suddenly made sense.
The Thai gritted his teeth. He didn’t answer the question. “The boss is going to need your help in taking care of her. Your driver will fill you in.”
Jan’s anxiety exploded into full-blown panic. “What do you mean by taking care of her? I can’t be involved in this. You need to tell them—”
“I don’t need to tell them anything. You’re already involved. Now gather your things and go. Panit will be waiting at the back exit to take you to the port. I have instructions to shut down operations until this blows over. They’re not happy about the effect this is going to have on the bottom line, captain. So, if I were you, I’d do everything in my power to help clean up this mess quickly.” With that, he turned his back on Jan and walked to the wall safe to return the gun and money he’d removed earlier.
Jan hesitated with the rosewood box still in his hand. He still had four cigarettes left and many hours until he would need to pilot The Water Lily. But he also had rules. And one of those rules was that he didn’t indulge outside Bar Pavot when he was in Thailand. He had a similar rule for similar establishments in other ports. And, if Thale really did plan to drag him into this unsavory business, he’d need to keep his wits about him. But, then, he’d also need a way to calm his nerves, and nothing relaxed him more completely than this. He weighed the box in his hand, debating internally.
After brief moment that seemed to him to stretch interminably, he made his decision and cleared his throat. “Friend, will you be so kind as to secure these for me until I can return?”
Surprise registered in the man’s dark eyes, as though he’d judged Jan to be no different from some out-of-control addict living on the street, but he didn’t re
mark on it. He simply gave a short, quick nod and reached out his hand to take the box. Jan handed over his drugs and watched as the man locked them away in the safe. Then he headed out through the back exit that led to a parking lot in the alley, forcing himself to push away thoughts of what Thale would require of him. He tried to appear as if he were unconcerned with what lie ahead. He hoped the man didn’t notice his legs shaking as he walked away.
* * *
Sasha and Mel sat in silence. Sasha didn’t know what was going through the other woman’s mind, but her own brain was a maelstrom of worry. They tried over and over to reach Connelly, but he wasn’t answering his phone. A sour, sick taste filled her throat. She distracted herself from her rising nausea by scanning the road. After several minutes, she spotted the white SUV approaching from the south. She touched Mel’s arm. “Look. Someone’s coming.”
They both leaned forward, straining as the vehicle drew closer to determine whether it contained a friend or an enemy.
Sasha squinted, made out a tasteful lotus design painted on the side of the vehicle, and relaxed. “It’s someone from the cruise ship.”
“Are you sure?” Mel’s hand floated toward the locked glove compartment, where Sasha was fairly certain her Bureau-issued firearm was stowed away.
She nodded. “I recognize the logo.”
“Still, let me go first. Just in case.” Mel leaned over and unlocked the glove box, and Sasha pretended not to notice the key shaking in her hand. She removed a handgun and checked the safety. Then she squared her shoulders and stepped out of the car.
The SUV came to a stop just at the edge of the shoulder of the road. The driver cut the engine and walked around to the front of his vehicle. Sasha relaxed her shoulders. It was Bruce.
She grabbed her purse, pushed open the passenger side, and stepped out onto the dusty shoulder. The sound of her door closing caught Mel’s attention and earned Sasha a sidelong look of displeasure.
“It’s okay, I know him. He’s my assigned butler.”
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