Eastern Drift: Sinclair O'Malley book 4 (Sinclair O'Malley Thriller) by J.M. LeDuc

Author:J.M. LeDuc [LeDuc, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J.M. LeDuc
Published: 2024-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

At 0400, Sin sent a text to Fletcher informing him of her destination. She grabbed her supplies, locked up the houseboat, and raced her bike across the Rickenbacker Causeway and onto I-95 north.

Sin approached The Diner in Gatlinburg, Tennessee at around 1800 hours. Her internal alarm sounded a couple of miles before reaching her destination as fire trucks and police cars flew past her. Pulling up to a roadblock, she presented her creds and was waved through.

The Diner was engulfed in flames. She parked a block away and walked toward the scene, fearing the worst. Spotting a police captain, she walked toward him, her creds hanging from her neck.

“FBI?” the captain said. “I haven’t had a chance to even assess the scene, so I have to assume you’re here for different reasons.”

Sin held out her hand in greeting. “Special Agent Sinclair O’Malley.”

“Captain James,” he said, shaking her hand. “What brings the feds to our area?”

“I’m looking for a missing girl. Do you know where I might find the owners?”

“Two fire trucks down.” He pointed down the line of cars. “Wrapped in blankets.”

Sin approached the truck and found the Thai couple just the way the captain had described. She pointed to her badge as she approached them. “Are you the owners of The Diner?”

The man nodded, but the woman said nothing; her expression told Sin everything she needed to know. Sin squatted in front of them and looked back at the restaurant. “I’m sorry for your loss. Am I right to assume this fire was not an accident?”

The woman grabbed her husband’s hand and started talking fast in Thai.

The man shrugged her off. “It’s too late for that,” he said in English.

“Too late for what?” Sin asked.

“Too late for lies. For deception.”

“Do you know who caused the fire and why?”

Again, the woman grabbed his hand. This time her voice was louder, fear bleeding through her tone.

“Does your wife speak English?” Sin asked.

“A little.”

“Tell her I was with Tana last night and that Ms. Sant knows I’m here and why.”

The husband spoke to his wife in Thai; his words did little to calm her. His attention back on Sin, he said, “My wife is not afraid of my cousin. Her fear comes from my uncle and is company.”

“The Red Wa is not a company; it’s a crime syndicate. Was it the Wa who came and did this to your restaurant?”

By now, his wife was pounding on his chest trying to stop him from speaking. He turned, grabbed her by the wrists, and spoke in a stern tone. As they were arguing, Sin realized for the first time that there was no sign of their daughter.

“Mr.—?”

“Suwan. Sakda Suwan, and this is my wife, Dara.”

“You are Kamphaeng’s brother?”

He nodded.

“Sakda, where is your daughter? Is she at home?”

Sakda said a few words to his wife and stepped away from the back of the firetruck. “I do not wish to cause my wife any more stress than she is already under.”

“Understandable, but under the circumstances—” Sin looked back at the burning diner.

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