Return to Tomorrow by Marisa Carroll Page B

as far as he was concerned.
    â€œNo. Please.” The barman pretended not to hear.
    â€œArguing with a Thai is like trying to wrestle a cloud.”
    Rachel whirled toward him, her eyes wide with relief, and a hint of wariness. “Brett.” As always, the sound of his name on her lips made his gut tighten with need. “He said he’d never heard of you.” She looked back at Ponchoo accusingly. He shrugged and smiled disarmingly.
    â€œSorry, ma’am.” He went back to polishing his glassware.
    â€œHe has his orders.”
    A faint hint of color stained her cheeks. “Of course.” She wrapped her hands around the straps of the yaam she carried on her shoulder.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Rachel?” He didn’t come any closer. He didn’t want to frighten her away again. It was late afternoon, the bar was empty for the moment but the early dinner crowd would be arriving soon. He pulled a high-backed bamboo chair away from a small table nearby and held it for her.
    â€œIs it so apparent something’s wrong?” she asked, brushing nervously at her hair where it lay against her cheek.
    â€œYes. And I know you wouldn’t come to me unless you needed help.” He held her gaze with his own. She didn’t flinch or look away, just smiled sadly.
    â€œIt’s Ahnle. She disappeared over a week ago. I think she’s been brought here against her will. I just got here today—I came in a supply truck. I tried the embassy first. I thought…Ambassador Singleton might help. He’s a friend of my brother, Simon.” She made a helpless little gesture with her hands as she sat down.
    â€œSince you’re here, he obviously didn’t.” He signaled Ponchoo to bring her something to drink.
    â€œJuice is fine,” she said when the bartender appeared at her elbow. “I never saw the ambassador. Harrison Bartley suggested I try to contact you here.”
    â€œOut of the goodness of his heart, I imagine.”
    She smiled, just a hint of a sparkle in her tired eyes. “I don’t think so.” Her smile disappeared. “Brett, can you help me?”
    â€œYou’re looking for a needle in a haystack.” She flinched when he said it.
    â€œI have to try to find her.” He hadn’t been wrong in thinking Rachel was growing very attached to the young Hlông woman that day at the camp.
    â€œKhob khun,” she murmured as Ponchoo set the tall glass of iced juice in front of her. “She didn’t come here of her own free will. I know she didn’t.” Rachel curled her hand tightly around the glass and looked down. “She’s lost everything, Brett. Can you understand that? Her family…her identity…” She was silent a moment, then looked up at him with such sorrow in her blue-gray eyes that he was shaken to the very center of his soul. “She’s lost everything dear to her. I can’t stand by and see her lose her freedom…her self-respect.” Her voice grew stronger, determined once more. “I have to find her.”
    â€œIn a city this size…” he began, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to build up false hopes. There were people he could contact, but it would take time. If Ahnle had been gone over a week already, there was no telling what might have happened to her.
    â€œSurely there are places I can look for her?”
    â€œNo, not alone.”
    She reached out her hand, as if to touch him. He leaned back in his chair, away from her. If she touched him, he didn’t know what would happen. He’d sure as hell want to touch her back, and he’d probably be tempted to go off with her on some damn fool search of the seedier bars off Patpong Road. He couldn’t do that, not now. He was too close to talking the gentlemen in his office into giving him the extra quarter-million dollars in gold bullion he needed to ice the deal with Khen Sa.