They backed out of the bathroom, leaving everything else as they’d found it.
“Dr. Radic’s research,” Chloe said as they moved toward the door. “Everything he was working on, all his notes about the supplements and the children who died—Volkov’s people must have taken them.”
“Not necessarily.” Skeet checked the hallway, found it still empty. “Academics don’t travel with their only copies of important research. There might be backup files, colleagues who have copies, maybe even family members who know about his work.”
“His wife.”
“What?”
“He was wearing a ring.”
She was pulling out her phone. “If we can find his wife, maybe she has copies of his research. Maybe she knows what he was working on.”
“Chloe, if Volkov is willing to kill Dr. Radic to protect his operation?—”
“Then his wife might be next.” She met his eyes. “We can’t let her end up like her husband.”
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. They stepped inside. As they descended toward their floor, Skeet’s phone buzzed with a text from Coco:
Coco
Security cameras will show maintenance worker entering and leaving room 1247. Theoretical malfunction concluded.
He texted her back with the update on Radic, then turned to Chloe. “We have the resort location, we know Volkov will be there this weekend. We could go straight there, try to gather evidence of what he’s doing.”
“Or we could talk to Dr. Radic’s wife first. Get the complete picture of what her husband was working on, what he discovered that made Volkov kill him.”
He texted Coco.
Skeet
Do you have an address and phone for Radic’s wife? Possibly in Czech Republic?
The elevator stopped at their floor.
His phone rang.
“Wow, that woman’s fast,” Chloe said.
Skeet answered as they walked toward their room.
“Her name is Elena,” Coco said without greeting. “But good news. She lives here in Thailand. Goes by Elena Thanakit. She’s Thai, married Dr. Marko Radic fifteen years ago when he was doing research at Chiang Mai University. She’s listed as working with the Mae Sot Refugee Health Initiative, about seven hours north of Bangkok.”
“Same field as her husband.”
“Be careful.”
He pocketed the phone while Chloe opened the door to their suite.
“Then we drive to Mae Sot. Find Elena Thanakit and figure out what her husband was working on,” Chloe said as they walked in.
Skeet moved back to the window, thinking. Seven hours to Mae Sot would put them there around midnight, maybe later.
Then they had to locate Elena and convince her to talk. Then drive back to Bangkok to return the car and catch a flight to the resort.
Tight timeline. But if Elena Thanakit had worked with her husband on refugee health initiatives, if she’d seen the effects of whatever was making children sick in those border villages, shemight be their best source for understanding what Volkov was planning.
“We should go now,” Chloe said, moving toward her adjoining room.