He hung a hand behind his neck. “I’m trying to make sure you understand what we’re getting into.”
“Children are dying, Skeet. Dr. Radic is being forced to continue research that’s killing innocent people. And now Volkov—if that is even his real name—knows that two journalists are asking questions.” She leaned forward, hands clenched in her lap. “We’re the only ones who can stop this.”
He nodded slowly. Something in his expression shifted—acceptance, maybe, or resignation. “Then I guess we’re going to Phuket.”
Jake was going to kill him.
Part of Skeet—the logical, tactical part—wanted to shove Chloe onto the next plane to Minnesota. Get her away fromBangkok, away from Volkov, away from whatever this was before it swallowed them both.
And away from the fact that he’d failed to protect her.
In fact, he’d nearly gotten her killed with his brilliant idea to follow Radic. And now they had no evidence. He blew out a breath. This was such a bad idea?—
Wait.
He pulled out his phone, scrolled through photos. “I got a shot of Volkov talking to Dr. Radic in the hallway.”
She turned, andshootbut he liked the way her eyes lit up. “Let me see.” She came over and stood beside him as he showed her the shot.
It showed Volkov’s profile and Radic’s face. But the second shot had caught Volkov staring out into the lobby.
Bingo.
“Can you identify him from this?”
“I can’t. But I know someone who can.” He scrolled through contacts, found Hamilton’s number.
Two rings and Hamilton’s voice came through crisp and alert despite the late hour in Minnesota. “Skeet. Please tell me you’re not calling because Chloe’s gotten herself kidnapped.”
She glanced at him, her eyes wide. He held up a hand. So, clearly she could hear Ham.
“Not yet. But we’ve got a problem.” Skeet put the phone on speaker. “We were nearly, um... well, we had a little kerfuffle in the hotel parking garage.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, but we need facial recognition on a subject. Guy goes by the name of Leonid Volkov. We’re not sure if that’s legit. But he’s posing as a pharmaceutical researcher, so if that’s true, he probably has academic credentials and international connections.”
“What kind of international connections are we talking?”
“The kind that involves weaponizing traditional medicine and—” Chloe started.
Skeet held up a hand, gave a look that said,ix-nay on the urder-may.
Right. Good way to shut this whole thing down.
Silence. Then, “Hey, Chloe.”
“Ham.” Her mouth pinched. “You didn’t have to send Skeet.”
Silence as Skeet’s mouth opened, agape.What?
Then she smiled. “But thanks.”
.Okay then.
“Skeet. Send me what you’ve got. I’ll put Coco on it,” Ham said.
“Coco?” Chloe asked.