Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense (227 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

LOGAN AND DAENG were back at the roadside restaurant. Across the street, everything at the compound had returned to normal, their diversionary group of Burmese refugees having walked off as soon as Daeng had given them the signal.

Four hours
, Logan thought. Probably more like three and a half by that point.

They had to assume that was when Elyse was going to be turned over to someone else. Once she was in the others’ hands, Logan’s chances of getting her back dropped to near zero. So three and a half hours was all the time he had to free her.

Without a platoon of commandos, getting her out of the compound wasn’t an option. And while Daeng had proven resourceful in obtaining help, access to elite soldiers was a little beyond his reach. So that left two options: grab her while she was being transported to the handoff point, or do it at the handoff point itself. While Logan didn’t want it to come down to the last minute, he felt there were too many ways she could get injured or even killed if they made the attempt while she was riding in a car.

Like it or not, the handoff point was the most logical place to make their move. Or would have been if Logan had actually known where it was.

As he tossed around a few generic plans with Daeng, something in the back of his mind tugged at him, demanding attention.

He looked out at the road again, focusing on nothing as he attempted to let whatever was hovering back there come forward.

Slowly, he started to remember. It was something he’d heard. While he was…in the building across the street…when…

When I’d been listening at the hole.
That was it.

He’d been listening to the conversation coming up through the first floor.

It wasn’t the thing about the four hours. That, he hadn’t forgotten.

It was after.

Right after.

…more, if we haven’t heard from the woman by then….

The woman.

He’d assumed at the time the speaker was talking about whoever it was they were supposed to be meeting. But wasn’t it possible it meant something else?

Something more straightforward? Like…

“No,” he said softly to himself.

“What?” Daeng asked.

Logan stared into the distance for a moment longer, then glanced at Daeng. “Give me a minute.” Pulling out his phone, he called his father.

“Hello?” his dad said.

“Is Tooney still staying with you?”

“Logan?”

“Dad, please. Is he?”

“Yeah. He’s still here.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“He might be asleep.”

“Now, Dad.”

“Sure, sure. Hold on.”

Logan looked down at the table, hoping that he was wrong.

“Yes, Logan?” Tooney’s voice sounded old and resigned, like he was expecting bad news.

“When I talked to my father yesterday, he said your daughter was on her way to Thailand. Do you know if she made it yet?”

“Sein? I believe so.”

“Do you know specifically where she was going?”

“Everything I find out from other daughter. Sein not talk to me again after she call about Elyse.”

“Tooney, I need to know where she is.”

Tooney paused. “Can you wait? I call Anka.”

“I’ll stay on the line.”

Logan glanced at Daeng, and could see his new friend was putting the pieces together, too.

Less than a minute later, Tooney came back on. “Anka says Sein in Chiang Mai.”

Logan closed his eyes. He was right. “Do you know where?”

“Hotel called NS Guest House.”

“Do you have a cell number for her?”

Tooney gave it to him, then said, “Do you think…is Elyse…”

“I’m doing everything I can,” Logan said.

A pause. “I know you are. Thank you. I wait to hear from you again.” Tooney hung up.

Logan dialed Sein’s number, but the call went directly to a voicemail message that merely restated the phone number. After the beep, but before he could even start leaving a message, a recorded voice cut in and told him, “Mailbox full.”

“Dammit.” He looked at Daeng. “Does your friend here know of a place in town called NS Guest House?”

Daeng spoke with the driver for a moment, then said, “He thinks he knows, but can make a phone call to be sure.” He paused. “He can do that on the way.”

________

As they headed back into town, Daeng asked, “Can I see those papers again?”

Logan had almost forgotten about the pages he’d taken from Aaron’s bag. Earlier, he’d stuffed them into a mesh holder on the back of the seat in front of him. He pulled the packet out, and handed it to Daeng.

After Daeng read for a moment, he said, “The oil rights are for an area off the Burma coast. The payment for the rights is a little vague, though. Money, yes, but there is an extra condition. It’s only alluded to, but not stated.”

“Who’s the contract between?” Logan asked.

“The Burmese company name isn’t important. Ultimately, it has to be controlled by the Myanmar generals.”

“But who’s buying the rights?”

Daeng flipped through the pages.

“It should be right there on the front, shouldn’t it?” Logan asked.

“I would think so, but the company’s name isn’t mentioned. There’s a signature at the end, but I can’t read it.”

He held it up, but Logan couldn’t read it, either.

“It must be this Lyon Exploratory place,” Logan said. “They just don’t want their name in print.”

“Possibly.”

Logan thought for a moment, then pulled out his cell phone, and opened the web browser. After several tries, he realized it wasn’t working. Apparently he could get calls and texts, but no overseas Internet access.

“Can you get on the web on your phone?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Logan held out his hand. “Do you mind?”

Daeng hesitated for only a second, then hit a couple of buttons on the screen of his phone, and put it in Logan’s palm.

Logan brought up Google, and typed in Lyon Exploratory Research, then hit Search. The top result was the company’s website. He went there.

The company’s main focus seemed to be geological research—finding things like oil fields and mineral deposits, but not, as far as he could tell, actually pulling what they found out of the ground. He went back to the search results, and started scrolling through. He was halfway down the third page when a link jumped off the screen at him. He clicked on it, and read the accompanying article.

When he was through, he looked up. “Son of a bitch,” he said under his breath. It all finally made sense.

By the time he finished telling Daeng what he’d discovered, they reached the small side street where the NS Guest House was located. Since the road was so narrow, it was easier for Logan and Daeng to get out and walk down.

As they headed over, Daeng said, “Those bastards.”

“Yeah.”

“We need to stop them.”

“We do.”

“We need people to know.”

Logan nodded. “They will.”

The hotel was a modest, four-story place squeezed between apartment buildings near the center of the city. There was an opening in the wall right in front, and a sign that read:

NS GUEST HOUSE

Welcome

They turned onto the walkway and found themselves under an L-shaped veranda that skirted around a swimming pool. Ahead of them was the reception desk, and under the veranda, where it jutted to the right beyond the pool, were several tables, three of which were occupied. At one was a young Caucasian couple eating a meal, at another a solitary Asian man reading a newspaper, and at the third, four larger Asian men, none of whom were drinking or eating or even talking. In fact, what they were doing was watching Logan and Daeng.

When the two of them reached the front desk, they were greeted by a casually dressed Thai man with shoulder-length hair, a goatee, and tattoos running up both arms. “Welcome NS Guest House. You need rooms? We have very nice ones.”

“We’re looking for one of your guests,” Logan said.

If the man was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “Sure. What is their name?”

“It’s a woman. Sein Myat.”

This time the man’s smile faltered, and his eyes involuntarily flicked for a split second toward the four men sitting at the table. “Sorry. No guest with that name.”

“You didn’t check,” Logan said.

“Didn’t have to. I know all guests’ names. It’s my job.”

Daeng said something to the man in Thai. Logan tried to read the body language as their conversation went back and forth. It was obvious the man was nervous. Then he stopped in what sounded like mid-sentence, and his gaze moved to something beyond Logan’s shoulder. He gave a quick, tentative smile, bowed his head, then walked away from the counter.

When Logan turned, he expected to see the four big men standing behind him. Instead, he found the smaller man who’d been reading the newspaper.

“Can I help you?” the man said. His English was very clean and proper, but with the definite hint of an accent.

“I don’t know. Can you?” Logan asked. He was feeling more than a little annoyed. He needed to talk to Elyse’s mom as quickly as possible, not be delayed by a runaround.

The man smiled as if he were merely putting up with Logan. “You are looking for someone?”

“Yeah. We are.”

Daeng said something to him, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t speak Thai.”

Daeng spoke again in a language Logan was pretty sure
wasn’t
Thai.

The man’s eyes narrowed as he studied Daeng for a moment. Then he replied using the same language.

As they talked, the four men at the table rose and walked over.

After several moments, Daeng said something that made the man glance at Logan, then turn to the others and say something. With a nod, one of the big men walked over to the staircase at the back of the dining area, and went up.

“Perhaps you would like to join me for a drink while we wait,” the smaller man said.

It seemed like more of an order than an invitation, but Logan wasn’t in an obeying mood. “Wait for what?”

“It’s okay,” Daeng told him. “They’re letting her know we’re here.”

As they sat down at the table, the man said, “You can call me Taw.” He then looked at Logan expectantly.

“Logan. Logan Harper.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Harper. You keep fine company.”

Logan tried to figure out if he was being sarcastic, but the sentiment seemed sincere.

“Would you like something?” Taw asked. “A beer, perhaps? Maybe a soda?”

“I’m fine,” Logan said.

Taw looked at Daeng.

“Nothing for me, either.”

The man glanced toward reception. “A water, please,” he called out. “Just one.”

It turned out they didn’t have time to have a drink anyway. The big man returned before the water got to the table, and they were immediately escorted upstairs by Taw.

He took them to a door at the end of the hall on the third floor. Another Asian man was standing beside it. He was big like the guys downstairs, and Logan would have laid money on the fact that he was armed. The man opened the door as soon as they arrived, and Taw led Daeng and Logan inside.

The NS Guest House was not the Ritz. Then again, it wasn’t even close to the worst place Logan had ever stayed. The floor was tiled, nothing fancy, but durable. The furniture, too, looked more like it had been built to last than be pleasing to the eye. There was a window on the far wall, but the curtain was drawn across it.

Sitting on the bed was a tiny woman. Though Logan hadn’t seen her in person in twenty years, he would have still recognized Sein even if he hadn’t watched the videos he’d downloaded. She had the same beautiful yet slightly stern face, and eyes that seemed to see more than just the surface of things. The only change he could see was a maturity, not so much in looks, but in the way she carried herself. Perhaps it was the years of speaking out and educating the world, fighting what must have seemed like a never-ending battle. In this respect, she actually looked older than her years.

Beside her was an Asian man of average size. He wore glasses, and had flecks of gray in his hair. By the way his arm was draped around her shoulders, Logan knew he was once the young man from the refugee camp who’d come looking for Sein after he’d finished high school. Khin, Tooney had said his name was.

“This is Daeng, and this is Logan Harper,” Taw said.

“It’s an honor to met you, Daw Sein,” Daeng said, bowing his head.

“I’ve heard of you, Daeng,” she replied. “I know of the sacrifices you have made. The Burmese people are indeed lucky to have you on their side.”

“I only do what I can.”