Cargo: A Leine Basso Thriller (4 page)

Leine zipped her
carry-on bag closed and slid her phone into her jacket pocket. Santa leaned against the doorjamb, watching her with his arms crossed. She lifted the suitcase off the bed and set it on the floor. They’d both stayed at the party until Leine had to leave to pack for the red eye to Bangkok.

“The girl’s been out of touch how long?” Santa asked.

“A week, maybe longer.”

“She could be anywhere.”

“I know. But I have to try.” Leine extended the handle of her case, scanning the room to see if she forgot anything.

“I know I don’t have to tell you to be careful. Bangkok’s not LA.”

Leine gave him a look and said, “Are you forgetting what I used to do for a living?”

“Of course not, but it’s well within my rights to remind you to be careful.” He shrugged. “What the hell else am I going to say? Try not to shoot anyone while you’re overseas? Don’t end up in a Thai prison?”

Leine grinned. “Good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” She walked over to him and touched his face. “I love you. And I love that you’re worried about me.”

“I love you, too.” Santa kissed her and leaned back. “What about April?”

Santa and April had developed a bond similar to the one she’d had with her former lover, Carlos. Leine’s daughter had held out for months, wary of anyone romantically connected to her mother, but finally succumbed to Santa’s superior charms and cooking ability. Leine didn’t blame her for taking her time trusting him. It wasn’t like Leine’s track record with men had been what anyone would call good, or even normal. In the beginning, even Leine half expected her relationship with Santa to fail. To both women’s surprise, it didn’t. Santa showed himself to be a persistent suitor, able to look past Leine’s former profession as an assassin as well as her reticence to commit.

Santiago Jensen was in love. Slowly, he’d been able to convince Leine to give him a chance, and later, to move into his apartment, which Leine had resisted like a cat resists a visit to the vet. She didn’t want to mess with the trajectory of their fledgling relationship and figured moving in would do just that. Especially when the daily monotony started.

But it hadn’t. In fact, to Leine’s immense relief, cohabitating had actually strengthened their bond, taking her completely by surprise.

“The role she played in the Modeling Magic case is over,” Leine said, answering his question. “Lou was just using her as bait. It’s up to someone else to follow the four missing women. Besides,” she added, “Mindy’s a good friend. I’d do anything for her and Paul.”

Santa nodded, conceding her point. He shifted his stance, a thoughtful look on his face.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Leine said, checking her watch. She rolled her suitcase to the side and sat on the bed. “I know that look. You want to talk.” She patted the spot next to her. “Let’s talk.”

Santa studied her but didn’t join her on the bed. He appeared to be wrestling with something, so Leine waited, knowing he was a deliberate man, one who needed time to formulate what he wanted to say.

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “Here goes. Even though we’ve been living together for a few months now, I still don’t know anything about you—where you grew up, what your parents did, do you have siblings, that kind of thing.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been in a relationship where the woman didn’t offer up all kinds of details about herself. It puts me in a weird place. People ask me about you and all I do is say I don’t know.”

“You never asked.” Leine shrugged. “I figured it wasn’t important to you.” The answer was a cop out, and they both knew it. Personal details left her vulnerable—which in her old job could have gotten her killed. She sighed.
Give it up, Basso, or say goodbye to coupled bliss.
“Okay. Here’s the condensed version: I was born in California, but didn’t spend a lot of time here. I was an army brat. The world was my neighborhood.”

“Ah,” Santa said, nodding. “That makes sense. So your father was in the service?”

Leine nodded. “Special Forces.”

“And your mother?”

“Molecular engineer.” Leine stretched her neck, trying to ease the tension that had collected between her shoulder blades.

Santa smiled. “Getting a little uncomfortable, are we?”

“You don’t have to be so happy about it, you know.” Leine gave him a mock glare. Sharing her past had always been difficult. “Can we do this another time?” She checked her watch. “It’s getting late.”

He crossed the room, climbed onto the bed behind her, and began kneading her shoulders. Leine leaned back with a sigh.

“You have all day to stop that,” she murmured. Eventually his hands roamed lower. He got off the bed and came around the front, pulling her to her feet and into a deep embrace. Leine relaxed into him and raised her mouth to his.

He kissed her slow and deep, and Leine emitted another sigh, unable to ignore her body’s response. Or his.

Before she could protest, Santa slid her blouse over her head and unhooked her bra, both of which landed on the floor, momentarily forgotten. He nuzzled her neck and Leine gasped at the chills cascading down her spine. She took a step back, half-heartedly trying to stop him, but when Santiago Jensen wanted something, especially when it came to Leine, argument was usually futile.

“But my flight—” Leine closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips on her breast.

“I’m a cop with a badge,” Santa said, his words muffled. “We’ll get there in time.” Pausing in his acquisition of her other nipple, he unzipped her slacks and slid them to her ankles.

Leine gave up trying to fight her rising desire and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down over his now-obvious erection.

What the hell. Wouldn’t be the first time she had to run to catch a flight.

She landed in
Bangkok just after ten in the morning. Suvarnabhumi Airport was an amazing and thoroughly modern structure, rising like a double cross from the surrounding marshlands. Thankfully, there were several ways to get into the city, unlike the old days when there was no light rail and only taxis or
tuk tuks
.

Leine made it through immigration and customs and took the light rail to her hotel in the heart of downtown Bangkok. For roughly the equivalent of sixty US dollars, Lou had put her up in relative luxury: an ultra-modern hotel room on the twenty-third floor with a generous floor plan including a spacious bathroom, flat screen television, free Wi-Fi, and a rooftop pool.

She stowed her carry-on bag in the closet and stopped to check behind the nightstand next to the bed. As expected, she found a package taped to the back. She slit open the wrapping to reveal a 9mm Walther PPK semiautomatic with two full magazines.  Slipping the gun into the front of her waistband, she took the elevator to the lobby and headed for the hostel where Kylie had been seen last.

Leine walked into the bright, air-conditioned entrance of the Happy Day Hostel and was greeted by vibrant green and pink painted walls and dozens of potted tropical plants sprawling across the large picture window. A bookcase overflowing with paperbacks ran along one of the walls, and a huge corkboard sprouted dozens of pushpins holding up business cards, colorful flyers, and handwritten notes.

An older woman with short gray hair and dangly earrings looked up from behind the desk and smiled. “Welcome to Happy Day. May I help you?”

She had a British accent and intelligent brown eyes. Her name tag read
Wilma
. Leine returned the smile.

“Leine Basso. I’m a friend of Kylie Nelson’s family. I believe Mindy Nelson told you I’d be coming?”

Wilma’s expression turned somber, accentuating the slight etching of crow’s feet surrounding her eyes.

“Yes. We’ve been expecting you.” Wilma turned toward the open doorway behind her. “Alak,” she called. A young, dark-haired man stuck his head through the doorway and smiled.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind watching the front desk while I take Miss Basso back to look over Kylie’s things?”

Alak’s smile disappeared and he nodded. “Of course.” He looked at Leine, concern evident on his face. “We worry about Kylie. She not be here for many days.”

“Thank you, Alak.” Wilma came around the side of the counter and motioned for Leine to follow her.

“How long has Kylie been gone?” Leine asked as they walked down a long hallway, past several rooms. Some had bunk-style beds, while others had one or two singles. Everything was clean and bright.

“Since the first,” Wilma replied. “Which wouldn’t be unusual, except that she left all her belongings.”

They passed one room with a heavily tattooed man lying on a cot. Heavy metal music blasted from a small speaker connected to his iPhone. Wilma rapped on the open door and he glanced up, startled.

“Angus, remember what we talked about?”

Angus nodded, a sheepish smile on his face as he plugged in his earphones, silencing the music.

Wilma smiled and continued down the hall. “We’ve had a few words with him about the volume of his music. Otherwise, it’s quiet here. Our guests are normally quite accommodating and polite.”

“How was Kylie before she disappeared?” Kylie’s mother had mentioned the young woman’s change from a vibrant, witty, smart-aleck to a depressed and sullen loner after her brother died. Leine supposed suicide was a possibility, but the idea didn’t feel right.

“Oh, you know. One day she was a complete chatterbox, and the next she would hardly leave her room.” Wilma shook her head. “We stayed up talking late into the evening a day or two after she’d arrived. I know about her brother and why she chose to come to Thailand by herself. The day before she vanished she seemed to be doing well.”

They stopped near a door marked
Lockers
. Wilma opened it and flicked the light on, motioning for Leine to walk through. The walls of the narrow room were lined with brightly painted metal lockers, each with a padlock. A long bench dissected the room.

“When Kylie didn’t return after a week, I gathered up her things and placed them inside a storage bin.” Wilma pulled a keychain from her front pocket as she walked over to one of the lockers, inserted the key, and snapped the lock open. Removing it, she swung the door wide and stepped back, giving Leine access. “I went over the security tape for that night a dozen times. Two sisters from New Zealand came back around five in the morning. There was no sign of Kylie.”

Leine methodically looked through Kylie’s things, pausing when she found something interesting—a postcard of a temple in Bangkok addressed to her parents, and a small notebook with several handwritten pages that she assumed was a diary. She placed everything in a shopping bag Wilma provided and shut the locker.

“Did she hang out with anyone in particular, or was she more of a loner?”

“That depended on how she was feeling. The night she disappeared, she was with the twin sisters from New Zealand I mentioned earlier, although they’ve moved on. I believe they left a forwarding address. I can find it, if you’d like.”

“That would be helpful. Anyone else?”

“I believe Charlie was there that night, too. Oh, and of course Alak.”

“Charlie?” Leine asked.

“He’s a local tour guide we often recommend. And you met Alak out front.”

“I’d like to speak with both of them, if possible.”

“Certainly. Charlie’s giving a tour at the moment, but he’s due back in a couple of hours. You’re welcome to speak to Alak right now. The girls from New Zealand mentioned they saw Kylie leave the bar with him.”

Wilma led Leine back to the lobby and introduced her to Alak. Leine asked him if he’d like to grab a drink and he agreed.

They found a quiet sidewalk café not far from the hostel. Leine ordered a club soda with lime and Alak ordered a Singha. Leine made small talk with him until their drinks arrived, all the while surreptitiously sizing him up. On the surface, he appeared calm and friendly, but Leine sensed a jumpy undercurrent. Maybe he was nervous in the company of strangers, but she didn’t think so. He lifted the beer to his lips and his hand trembled. It wasn’t much, but coupled with his nervous energy it was enough to take seriously. Leine studied him for more tells and at the same time tried to put him off balance.

“Wilma said you left the bar with Kylie. Where did you and she part company?”

Alak took a long pull of his beer before answering.

“We take taxi back. She got out and I not tired, so I decide to party at friend’s house.”

“How did she seem to you?”

“What you mean?” he asked. He had another drink and set the bottle down in front of him. His leg jiggled under the table.

“I mean, was she drunk? Having a hard time walking?”

Alak nodded, concentrating on peeling the label off his beer. “She had much alcohol.”

“Then why didn’t you help her back to her room? Seems it would have been the gentlemanly thing to do.” Leine watched him closely.

A flicker of anger crossed Alak’s face. “She not ask me for help.”

“If she was obviously impaired, I’d think you’d want to make sure she made it back all right.”

“She did.” Alak glared sullenly at the tiny pieces of foil on the table. “I see her.”

“Wilma said there was no evidence of Kylie returning to the hostel. The security cameras only show the sisters from New Zealand coming back around five that morning.”

Leine kept her gaze steady. Alak returned the look. This time the anger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I not know what happen. Like I say before, I go to party at friend’s house.”

Alak’s demeanor had changed to one of suspicion, and his command of the English language appeared to be degrading. She was beginning to get to him. 

“You know what I think happened? I think that you helped her into a taxi with the intention of having sex with her, but when she refused you had the driver stop and then made her get out.”

“No,” Alak shot back, shaking his head. Tiny beads of sweat appeared on his upper lip, which he wiped away with his shirt sleeve. “That—that not how it happen.” He took another swig of his beer and set it down with a little too much force. Foam bubbled over the top of the bottle and dribbled down the neck. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“It’s what I’m going to tell the police when I file the report. In fact, I’m so convinced that you were the direct cause of Kylie’s disappearance that I’m going to offer your name as the main suspect.” Leine held his gaze.

Alak broke the stare first, his left leg bouncing as he looked everywhere except at Leine. She slid the gun from her waistband and, keeping her hand under the table, casually aimed it at his groin. His gaze cut to the barrel and he visibly blanched.

His expression was a marquee of emotions as he fought the inevitable—doubt, fear, anger, finally settling on fear. A few minutes passed before resignation took fear’s place. His shoulders slumped forward.

“My friend drive taxi…” he said, his voice low.

Leine moved closer so she could hear him.

“He pay me to find girls.” He glanced at Leine, a confessor’s guilt on his face.

“He pays you to put something in their drink, and then you offer to help them?”
Right into your friend’s waiting cab.
Leine inhaled deeply to eliminate the urge to wrap her hands around his neck. And what would choking him accomplish? Nothing
.
It would create a scene, and he’d need medical attention, delaying her meeting with the taxi driver. Might even involve the police, depending.

Calm down, Leine. He’s not worth it.

“I only deliver. I no sell. No illegal activity,” Alak said, his conviction obviously genuine.

Leine nodded at the gun in her hand and leveled her gaze at him.

“Well, then, I won’t kill you, just shoot your balls off. What do you think? Would that still count as illegal, or do you think I’d get away with it?”

“You can no—”

“Yes, I can. And I will unless you cooperate.” She raised an eyebrow as she brought the gun closer. “I need your friend’s contact information.”

Alak covered his lap with his hands, the whites of his eyes showing. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face.

Leine smiled as she leaned forward and encircled his wrist with her fingers. He tried to wrench free, but her grip proved too strong. His expression changed from anger to fear as he realized that things were going south.

“I need your friend’s information. Now,” she repeated calmly.

Distress plain on his face, Alak feverishly scanned the café and their surroundings. Finding no one sympathetic to his plight, he returned his attention to Leine. Leine tightened her grip and his hand started to turn white. He stared at his fingers and then at her. Something in his eyes changed, and Leine knew she had him.

“His name Sam. But he not tell you who he work for.”

“Oh, I think he will.” Leine released her grip and he straightened, rubbing his wrist.

“Then he know it me.”

Leine shrugged. “And I care because…”

“Many people die.”

“I’m only interested in Kylie. If you give me what I want, then no one has to die.”

Alak nodded, and glanced to each side as though making sure no one was within hearing distance. “Sam sell girls to man name Victor Wang. This all I say. I not know where find this man, and Sam no know. I find girls, Sam drive them to arrange place, and someone else pick them up. I no meet Wang. Sam only meet once, when he apply for job.”

“Give me your cell phone.”

Alak crossed his arms. “Why you need?”

“Give me your phone,” Leine repeated, stretching her arm across the table.

By the look on his face he was battling whether to give up his electronic lifeline, not sure what the crazy-ass woman across from him was going to do with it. After a brief pause Alak reached into his pocket to fish out his phone, and laid it on the table. Leine was glad to see it was a well-made knockoff and not a cheap burner phone, easily discarded. She had him tap in his security code and then open his contacts. She jotted down Sam’s number along with the numbers Alak called the most often and his contact information. Then she downloaded a simple tracking program and gave it back.

“If anything you’ve told me isn’t true, then I will find you.” She stood up and threw a few baht onto the table. “You don’t want me to find you.”