Shadowboxer by Tricia Sullivan

Author:Tricia Sullivan [Sullivan, Tricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781849977784
Google: 0Bk7BAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Ravenstone
Published: 2014-10-09T07:00:00+00:00

What the Cognoscenti Say About Me

I ENDED UP being early for work. Perez had spooked me, and Shea vanishing had spooked me, and instead of making something to eat and taking a shower, I’d packed Malu’s bag and gone out. I got the bus to work. I texted Malu telling her I was staying in Mr. B’s spare room to be closer to the gym. Telling her not to worry. Then I texted Mr. B telling him I’d be staying in Teaneck for a few days.It’s a junior high school trick, but it works.

I mean, come on, people. I’ve lived in Bangkok. I’m not going to fall apart just because of one little incident.

When I got off the bus, Shea turned up right behind me.

‘What’s with the disappearing act?’ I snapped, unnerved. ‘Did you follow me?’

Shea shrugged. ‘I’m sorry—did that freak you out? I thought it would be better for you if I wasn’t around to... er... complicate things with the police. Can we talk?’

I was hungry, so I let him pay for overpriced sandwiches and coffee. When he took out his wallet I said, ‘Is that your ID?’ and he showed me his UK driver’s license. He had just turned twenty years old. He had long hair in that picture. It looked good.

‘Vijaralongkorn Shea?’ I said. ‘You’re Thai?’

‘Nobody calls me that.’ He snatched it back and handed the barista an Amex. ‘My mother’s Thai. My father’s Irish. I grew up in Cardiff. That’s in Wales. All clear?’

I relaxed a little. He was still very nervous, though. It’s kind of fun standing next to a cute, nervous guy who is trying hard to get on your good side. Not an experience I’d had very often. OK, I never had that experience. It’s not bad. Shea was wimpy, but cute, and he had an Amex and he knew how to disappear. Which could have been hot, in different circumstances.

‘Aren’t you a little young to be doing this kind of work?’ I said. ‘How many guys your age have their own expense accounts?’

He was not comfortable talking about his age. He stammered and stuttered and finally mumbled, ‘I took a gap year in between school and university and ended up working for a... mumble mumble...’

‘What?’

‘Ahem. For a moderately famous investigative reporter. I was working as Marco Lewis’ translator and research assistant in Asia, sort of an internship. I kept meaning to go back to London and finish my studies, but I’ve learned so much on the job that it never seems worth it.’

‘That’s funny,’ I said. ‘I just got back from Thailand. Well, you know that. But if you’re Thai then shouldn’t you know more about boxing?’

We sat down to eat, and he said, ‘Are you a big baseball fan?’

‘Me? Baseball? Couldn’t care less.’

‘But you’re American, right?’

‘Yeah, so?’

‘Yeah, so, that’s why I don’t know about Muay Thai.’

‘That’s a stupid reason,’ I said. ‘You’re bullshitting me.’

He was looking straight into my eyes. It made my stomach unsteady. I told myself I was probably just hungry; I picked up half a BLT and tore into it.

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