“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Skeet muttered.
“I know. It seemed to be weirdly linked to the aid packages.”
The joking tone vanished completely from Skeet’s voice. “Someone’s poisoning kids through food aid?”
“That’s what Dr. Tobias suspected. He’d been documenting cases across the region, trying to identify the toxin. That’s why we went to the village—to document the outbreak, treat children if we could, and collect samples. Food, water, anything that might help identify the toxin.”
“And now he’s dead,” Skeet said quietly.
She recoiled, her breath caught.
He looked at her, suddenly solemn. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. He was a friend. And now... the only person who can solve this is gone.”
“Not the only person.” Skeet moved closer, his shoulder brushing hers as he adjusted the fire. “You’re still alive. You have his recordings, his research.”
She nodded.
And then, “You don’t think, I mean... was his death an accident?” This from Chai.
She stared at him. “I don’t know. I ate the same thing he did when we went to the village.” She frowned. “Although... I didn’t eat Mrs. Pensri’s curry at the hospital. I’ve had it a dozen times and it’s never made anyone sick before. But Tobias was sweating before we even left.”
Chai nodded, stirred the fire. “Do you think someone murdered him?”
Skeet answered before she could. “I think that if there is someone trying to kill children, then... I don’t know why they wouldn’t try to stop the good doctor—or you—from finding out how. Or why.”
Her mouth went dry.
Sparks crackled in the air.
“Hey,” Skeet said. “Good thing you’ve got professional bodyguards now. Even if one of them is devastatingly handsome and modest.”
Despite everything, she almost smiled.
“Listen,” he said, getting up and going to his pack. “You said there was someone distributing the aid packages. Got a name?”
“Yes. A Dr. Radic. Mrs. Nu Paw mentioned him, but I have no idea who he is or... how to find him. Apparently, he’s been going to villages and giving out aid packages—medicine, food, seasoning for the curry. And kids are getting sick.”
Chai looked up from his bamboo preparation. “My wife works at a number of medical clinics in Chiang Mai. She might have seen this doctor.”
Chloe’s eyes fixed on him.
“Don’t get excited there, Ace,” Skeet said. “Right now, we stay hidden. Tatmadaw forces patrol these hills looking for refugees.”
“Your fire won’t help.”
“My fire is tiny, and we’re surrounded by bamboo. I promise you, no one can see this. You hungry?” Skeet held up an MRE package from his pack. “Beef stew or chicken with vegetables? Both are equally terrible, but the beef stew has slightly less cardboard flavor.”
“I’m not really?—”
“Beef stew it is.” He tore open the package, pulling out the heating element and chemical activator. “Can’t solve international conspiracies on an empty stomach. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
While they waited for the food to heat, Chai constructed a clever water-collection system using bamboo sections and their canvas overhang. Rain funneled into the makeshift containers, providing fresh water that Skeet treated with purification tablets.
“So... um...” Chloe said, accepting the heated MRE pouch and pressing the warm aluminum against her palms to stop the trembling in her fingers. “How’s Selah doing? Last time I talked to her?—”
“She was in a train wreck and running across the country with a known spy?”