“Well?” I ask, the moment Brazuca walks into the hotel room.
It’s been several hours since I hit him at the bar. I got rid of the sundress the moment I returned to the king suite we’re sharing and am in a pair of cutoff shorts and a T-shirt. Even with the AC on, it’s still too hot.
“Hang on,” he says, and disappears into the bathroom. Ten minutes later he emerges, freshly showered and in a change of clothes. Still unshaven, though. He passes a comb through his damp hair and looks out the window. Spread out in front of him is a view Lam has paid good money for. The ocean, peppered with colorful fishing boats, sparkles as the sun sets. Couples lay tangled underneath resort awnings, some in bathing suits and others in evening wear. It’s a far cry from the little mining town I’d scootered into this afternoon, the one with the bar.
The reason we’re sharing is because Lam found it amusing that Brazuca decided to join us last minute on the flight. He hadn’t bothered to call ahead and make arrangements for another room. On the plane, Brazuca and I fell into the routine of two people who’d rather not be on a trip together. Lam laughingly said it seemed natural for us to continue the ruse. For all intents and purposes, we’re a couple giving it our last shot but failing. There’s enough history between us to sell this.
“That slap was a good move,” Brazuca tells me, without turning from the window.
“I was inspired.”
“Hell of an inspiration. But it was the right instinct. They would never have talked to me with you there, and it made them sympathetic to me. They’re actually not bad once you get to know them a little.”
“And what did they have to say?”
“You were right, they’re part of the security detail at the mine.”
Ex-military types in a flock like that . . . it seemed obvious that they were blowing off steam after work. Especially given the proximity of the mining village that Nebula supports, now that they’ve taken over the mine there. “And?”
I can tell he’s enjoying stringing me along.
“Let’s go find Lam,” he says, grinning. “He should hear this, too.”
Lam is in the private bungalow with its separate suite of rooms on the hotel property. Right off the beach. How he managed to swing this on such short notice is beyond me, but it’s possible a minor sheikh or two have been kicked out to make room for him.
His bodyguard is there, out by the pool with Lam and a woman I haven’t seen before. She’s tall, fat, and more beautiful than any person has the right to be. She has the hair of a model in a shampoo commercial, long and glossy, even with all this salty sea air. Her and Lam match in a way I can’t explain. When he sees us coming, he sends her away with a kiss on the cheek.
“A bit young, don’t you think?” I say.
Lam shrugs. “Legal.”
“You didn’t want to introduce us?”
“She didn’t want to be introduced. Her oil baron daddy is looking for her, and she wants to keep a low profile.” This makes sense. The woman looked to be in her early twenties. Also looked like money in that indefinable way that some people do. The way that Lam does. It also makes sense that within a day of being here, he would already be mingling with the heiresses of the island.
He checks to make sure Ivan’s out of earshot and lowers his voice. “So what did your little trip into town tell you?”
I wonder what Ivan would think of all this if he knew what we were saying. Brazuca and Lam got into a bitter fight about keeping him in the dark when we arrived at the hotel. I don’t care either way, but Brazuca has a point. If we’re stuck with him, might as well use him. But Lam doesn’t want him reporting the particulars of our trip to his father. It’s why he brought only one bodyguard with him and not a horde of them, like he should have.
I understand his thinking. Nobody has ever particularly cared where I go or what I do, but I’d imagine it would get irritating if all of a sudden someone did.
Brazuca takes a seat on the lounger beside Lam while I remain standing. It’s cool enough now that I can bear being outdoors without a frozen drink in my hand.
“Nora found a bar where some of the private security team for the mine hang out. They had some interesting things to say. There’s been some petty local gang activity. There was also an earthquake and some pretty bad landslides a few days before we got here. People are on edge.”
“Okay,” says Lam, somewhat impatiently. “And Dao?”
Brazuca smiles, but there’s no warmth to it. Lam doesn’t notice or doesn’t particularly care. “They talked about the head of security at the mine. A big Chinese bloke, ex–British military. He’s been on their asses for about a year. Everyone hates him. The security teams because he won’t fraternize with them and some of them think he’s a gangster. The workers because he’s tough on them. The villagers because he’s Chinese, but from Vietnam. Some just don’t like his face.”
“Did you see him?”
“No. Apparently he’s been laying low because of some dustup with a protester.”
I stare at Brazuca. “Chinese from Vietnam?”
“There’s a sizable ethnic Chinese population spread across Southeast Asia, Vietnam included,” Lam explains. “During the Vietnam War, many Vietnamese fled and ended up in refugee camps. Some of them made it to Hong Kong.”
“Then, for Dao, the UK,” I say. “And then wherever the Zhangs needed him to be. Which may be why Dao seems like a ghost. He’s moved around.”
Brazuca looks at me. “We need Simone.”
“She’s in rehab. But I think it’s one of those facilities where patients can bring their computers. She took her laptop with her when I dropped her off at the ferry.”
He thinks about it for a moment. “If it’s the Gulf Island facility she stayed at a few years ago, then yes. They allow phones and laptops.”
“Who’s Simone?” asks Lam.
“Cyber expert,” Brazuca says.
Lam frowns. “An addict, though? I can find you someone else. I’ve got a guy.”
“I’m sure you do. But I like my guy so I’m going with her,” I say.
He doesn’t like my tone. Maybe it’s disrespectful, but I couldn’t care less. “You know what your problem is?” Lam says. “You hate the rich.”
“I eat the rich.”
“Come take a bite.” He opens his arms. I’m perversely tempted. He’s lost weight, but there are still quite a few prime cuts left on him.
“Alright, kids. Let’s stay focused.” Brazuca gives me a quelling look, as though I’m the problem. Or maybe he thinks it’s sexual tension, and the idea of me and Lam makes him as uncomfortable as it does me.
I turn away. When I chew Lam up, he won’t even feel it. Problem is—and this is the real issue—I’m not sure if I have more to gain by keeping him whole.
“Do whatever you want,” I say, reaching for my phone. “Ex–British military via Hong Kong? Ethnic Chinese from Vietnam? This is all information that we haven’t had before. I’m going to talk to Simone.”
“Let us know what she finds,” says Brazuca.
I walk down to the ocean to make the call. Simone answers on the first ring and listens to the updates. “What took you so long to bring me in?” she asks.