Part 4

The Songkran holiday was a nightmare of a time to do any kind of investigating.

Tawan leaned against the hood of her SUV in the parking lot of one of Bangkok's largest stadiums and contemplated the arena that was already buzzing with people.

Ms. Suwannathat's stalker had managed to bypass multiple layers of security with nothing more than a baseball cap and a vase filled with flowers. He'd done it on a day when the venue was on high alert because of the concert. And he'd somehow vanished from all camera feeds before even reaching the first exit point.

Tawan and her team agreed the guy had acted alone. There was no evidence he'd paid someone off to sneak in. A paid actor wouldn't have been as cautious or as capable.

Who the hell was this guy?

Two weeks in, they were no closer to finding the answer. All they knew was that their suspect wasn't just a casual fan. He wasn't even an average, everyday stalker. This guy had serious computer skills and an agenda that had gone far beyond infatuation into full-blown obsession. The letter and emails proved that.

The stalker had waited over two years to escalate in any meaningful way.

What had triggered him?

Had it been because he saw Ms. Suwannathat often? Or maybe because the recent tour had taken her out of his line of sight?

A line of cars rumbled past her, filled with overly enthusiastic fans heading to a Songkran event. The faint smell of incense and grilled food drifted through the air, blending with the festival's unique mix of chaos and joy. Someone in a brightly painted tuk-tuk threw a half-empty soda can onto the pavement. It rolled to a stop not far from Tawan's SUV, leaving a sticky trail behind.

She frowned, kicking the can aside as her mind cycled through the possibilities again. The clock was ticking, and they needed to figure this out before the stalker made his next move.

She was glad tonight's security wasn't her responsibility. Managing an event like this, especially during Songkran, required an army of highly trained specialists to even attempt controlling the chaos of such a crowd. Tawan was convinced that no venue this large could ever be fully secure. There were too many entrances, too much distraction, and virtually no control over external variables like overzealous fans or entitled celebrities.

It was hard enough dealing with them one-on-one, let alone when they were in full look-at-me mode.

Then again, if Tan's promised deal came through, celebrities and arena shows might make up the bulk of her business.

Would it be worth it?

She ran a quick mental calculation of the numbers Tan had outlined. The amount per show, multiplied by the number of artists he managed and the average number of concerts per year, was staggering. She tacked on the attendance bonuses while watching the never-ending stream of cars packed with concert-goers roll past.

The total would be life-changing.

Visions of satellite offices in major cities across Asia, then around the globe, flitted through her mind. It was a steady, stable future—one where protection could be done the right way.

Working these shows would allow her to give women who couldn't normally afford her services somewhere to turn in moments of crisis.

Her mother could have used that kind of help once.

Yes. It would be worth it.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming call, cutting through her thoughts. She glanced at the ID.

FG. Front gate.

Dread prickled across the back of her neck. "Tawan," she answered on the second ring.

"Uh, ma'am, the protectee..."

"My name is Ira!" Ms. Suwannathat shouted in the background.

"...is at the gate, ma'am. She's requesting permission to leave with her personal protection..."

"Her name is Nene," Ira snapped. "And yours is Aran, in case it's been so long since she's let you use it that you've forgotten."

"...for a burger, ma'am."

"A burger," Tawan repeated flatly.

"Yes, ma'am. And fries."

Tawan suppressed the urge to snap at Aran and hang up. It wasn't the man's fault. "Inform Ms. Suwannathat that burgers and fries can be delivered. Just like ice cream."

"Uh... she says that fries are best when you eat them in the car, ma'am."

"If you don't open this gate right now, I'll climb over it!" Ira's voice blared through the phone. "So help me, God, I will!"

Tawan strangled her rising temper and forced her tone into something approaching calm. "Put Ms. Suwannathat on the phone."

"Yes, ma'am."

There was a lot of scuffling and muffled sounds before the screen flared to life with a video feed.

Ira's furious face appeared, her dark amber eyes blazing with defiance. "It's just a burger, Warden. I won't even get out of the car, and Nene is right here. Tell her, Nene."

The phone swiveled to show Nene, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable. "The place is less than a mile away. It won't take fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops, with traffic."

The view shifted back to Ira. "See? It's not a big deal."

Irritation prickled along Tawan's forehead, threatening to grow into a full-blown headache. Clearly, Nene still didn't understand. She had potential, but her inability to stand firm against Ira's charm was a problem. If Tawan could untangle her from Ira's persuasive grip, she might even make an exceptional field agent one day.

"It is a very big deal, Ms. Suwannathat. I've explained why several times."

"It's been two weeks, Warden," Ira said, exasperation dripping from every word.

"The name is Tawan," Tawan corrected, her jaw tightening.

She'd learned patience during her time in the Navy, but Ira Suwannathat had a way of jumping up and down on parts of her psyche she thought she'd buried in basic training.

"How many names are on the list now, Tawan?"

"Now is not the time or place for a status update. Please return to the house."

"I'm not getting out of this car until I get my fries."

The parking lot was filling up and getting noisy. Tawan sighed, got into her SUV, and relented. "I'm on my way."

Ira scowled at her through the video feed. "I don't want a burger delivered, Tawan. I don't want ice cream or flowers or anything else delivered either. I want to go out. Me. Not you. The out part is key."

"Out is exactly where you shouldn't go. We talked about this. If you need excitement, Lin and Wei will stop by tomorrow. I'm sure Lin can keep you busy with a self-defense workout."

"I can't keep doing this." Ira's expression softened, her fiery demeanor melting into something almost desperate. "I can't stay here like this. I can't... Come on. It's just a drive. Please."

For a moment, a traitorous part of Tawan almost relented.

Almost.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Suwannathat."

The stony look in Ira's dark amber eyes bore into her, pushing harder than words ever could. If Tawan didn't toss her a bone, she really would climb the fence. The best way to keep a client contained was to involve them in the process. She didn't like it, but she'd do it if it bought her more time.

"Please go back to the house and wait for me in the front room."

Ira narrowed her eyes. "What, like a dog?"

Tawan knew she was going to regret what she was about to say. "I'd like to get your take on some of the names on the list."

"Oh." Ira's expression morphed into something bright and way too excited. "Oh really. That's... surprising. Unexpected, even. But cool. Okay, I'll wait in your dungeon room. But don't forget the burger. And fries."

Tawan ended the call with a sigh. "Damn celebrities."

Over an hour later, after battling her way through the chaotic flow of Bangkok traffic, Tawan was surprised to find her protectee dutifully waiting for her on the loveseat in the front room. She'd half-expected Ira to get bored and wander off in search of something shiny.

She dropped the greasy bag of takeout onto Ira's lap. "Ms. Suwannathat. Your fries."

"Thanks." Ira plucked a fry from the bag and popped it into her mouth. She immediately made a face and shuddered. "Gross. I told you fries are only good in the car."

Tawan suppressed the urge to admit she'd had a few of the fries in the car and, unfortunately, Ira was right—they were better fresh.

Instead, she opened her laptop and pulled up the secondary list of suspects, turning the screen so Ira could see it.

Ms. Suwannathat unfolded herself from the loveseat and leaned in to look at the screen. "That's the list? That's what you've all been working on for weeks and weeks?"

"Two, Ms. Suwannathat. Just two weeks. The bare minimum required to be a plural."

Tawan had already reviewed the names on this curated list with Lin and Wei. The suspects largely fell into two categories: those who had most likely slept with Ira and those who desperately hoped to. Mixed in were superfans who followed her on tour but, as far as they could tell, had never spent any actual time with her.

"I'm shocked you're letting me into your den of secrets." Ira grinned and pushed the loveseat closer to the desk. "This is exciting. Like peeking into your underwear drawer."

Tawan's hands froze over the keyboard.

It was a short mental leap from Ira rifling through an imaginary drawer to her rifling through the underwear Tawan was currently wearing.

Her thoughts spiraled into a sharp burst of static before she yanked them back.

No. Absolutely not.

She reminded herself—and the traitorous parts of her body that seemed to have bolted awake at the thought—that Ira hadn't meant it that way. It was just a casual, throwaway comment, not a suggestion.

Tawan cleared her throat, pulling her focus back onto the task at hand. "Let's start at the top. I need your first impressions of each name. Details we can't find on social media. Things only you would know."

"Okay." Ira pulled the laptop closer, her dark amber eyes scanning the screen. "Wow. If this is your idea of a who-done-it, you're way off. No wonder it's taking so long."

Tawan gritted her teeth. "Meaning?"

Ira tapped the screen. "No way Sorawit Anuman writes a creepy note. And no way he sneaks into my dressing room. He wouldn't have to." She snorted. "That man goes wherever he wants, and he usually brings a parade with him."

Tawan nodded. That had been her assessment too, but as Ira's last semi-serious relationship, Sorawit had to top the list until they could prove beyond doubt he wasn't involved. "It's routine to consider all previous partners as possible suspects."

"He wasn't my partner. What we did doesn't even count as a relationship. It was more of a...temporary romp. He's a lot of fun and super sweet. Fantastic party planner. Great at late-night gossip sessions. But he's not a long-term keeper." Ira bit her lip thoughtfully. "Neither am I, really."

Tawan leaned back in her chair. "Have you ever had a long-term relationship? One that's not obvious on social media?"

Ira fixed her with a flat stare, practically daring her to judge. "Define long."

"Six months. A year." Tawan kept her tone neutral and professional, her expression steady.

After a pause, Ira looked away, as if flipping through a mental Rolodex. "A year...hmm. I can think of one. Thanakorn Wichit. We played around for maybe eight or nine months, years ago, but it was never serious. At least, not to me."

The name struck a familiar chord. "The Thanakorn Wichit? The hotel heir?"

"Yeah." Ira focused on the burger bag in front of her, her expression suddenly closed. "It was a mistake. I thought he was looking for fun. Turned out he was looking for a trophy. He hated when I called him Korn."

"He's not on the list." Tawan grabbed a pen to make a note of the very famous, very wealthy name. "How'd you keep that so low-key?"

Ira shrugged, but her face betrayed that it hadn't been as easy as her gesture implied. "His family has this resort compound. Acres and acres of fences, gates, and security that makes this place look like an open park. They all live there—from his grandparents to the latest grandkid. They're really into their image. Everything was a production. Always had to be managed in a...how-many-camera-angles-are-possible kind of way. My chaos factor was way too high."

She let out a dry laugh. "They used to sneak me in through a service gate with the deliveries so the paparazzi wouldn't catch wind of our...association. That's what they called it. We weren't dating. We were associated."

Tawan's pen scratched across the notepad as she wrote. The whole situation reeked of the type of obsessive, controlling behavior they were looking for. "Any fights? Disagreements? Threats?"

"No. That's not their style. They're too proper for anything overt. But nobody's ever made me feel like such a worthless piece of fluff before or since." Ira offered a faint smile. "Present company excluded."

Tawan ignored the bait, recognizing the tactic for what it was. She jotted down sociopathic breeding ground next to Thanakorn Wichit's name.

"Who ended it? You or him?"

When Ira didn't answer right away, Tawan looked up.

A shadow passed over Ira's face. "Me. I ended it...right before I went solo."

Tawan absorbed the information as she listened, her pen hovering over the notebook. She knew Ira's basic history, but something about the mention of Thanakorn and the dynamic with her family nagged at the back of her mind. People from powerful families like his didn't always walk the straight and narrow. It was worth a deeper look.

She sent a quick text to Wei to investigate further, then glanced back up to find Ira watching her with an oddly curious expression.

"You don't have to worry. It's not him. Trust me." Ira fished a limp fry out of the bag and flipped it back and forth, her expression unimpressed.

"I'm paid to worry, Ms. Suwannathat," Tawan said evenly.

"You like it, don't you?" Ira tossed the feeble piece of potato back into the bag. "The worry. It makes you feel important."

Tawan blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected verbal hit-and-run. "That's not why I do it. I protect people who need my help."

"Uh-huh. Because it makes you feel useful. I get it. No judgment." Ira let out a heavy sigh. "It's a good thing. Feeling useful."

She leaned back in her seat, her amber eyes losing some of their fire as they turned introspective. "Anyway, don't bother with Thanakorn. Pretty sure the only reason he wanted to go out with me in the first place was Ying. She invited him and his family to a meet-and-greet in Singapore, and I guess he thought one sister was the same as another."

"Ying?" Tawan asked, scribbling the name into her notes.

"Yeah. Ying's the social butterfly in the family. She has this way of making everyone feel like they belong, even when they don't. Thanakorn was probably hoping to impress her by charming me. Funny thing is, Ying would've been the perfect fit for his little world, but he had no chance of catching her eye. She's not exactly interested in men. I'm the chaos Ying doesn't need in her perfect little world. She's all about keeping things smooth and orderly. I'm more... 'order through chaos.' Anyway, Thanakorn didn't get that. He thought we were all interchangeable. And that's why he's not the guy you're looking for."

She didn't miss the wistfulness in Ira's voice, but she let it go. Tawan wasn't here to be her friend or her therapist.

Tawan scanned the list, wondering who else they might have missed in their background search. "We have a Mr. Achara who was seen with you on the red carpet two years before Sorawit, but that's a long gap with no obvious entanglements. Was there anyone else during that time?"

Ira raised an eyebrow, pulling her feet up under her as she snuggled into the chair. "Is this really helpful, or is this just an excuse to snoop into my love life?"

"It's part of the process. In cases like these, it's usually someone you know or have met who wants more than you're willing to give. Ex-lovers, colleagues—people in your orbit. Unfortunately, your orbit is bigger than most."

Her dark amber eyes flashed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tawan held her gaze. "It means you're popular, and your list of casual acquaintances numbers in the thousands."

"You make popular sound like something horrible." Ira scowled at something just over Tawan's shoulder—the cameras, perhaps, or memories. "You know, it's such a double standard. Every time I even glance at a guy, they write about it like it's the end of days. Women trail after Sorawit like ants at a picnic, but nobody cares. Nobody cares about all the women Thanakorn and his family have left by the side of the road either. It's just boys being boys. But I hold hands with someone for two seconds on a red carpet or at a restaurant, and next thing you know I'm a homewrecking whore with a bad attitude. It's not fair."

Sympathy flared briefly in Tawan's chest. It wasn't fair. But it wasn't relevant, either. "Fair has nothing to do with this."

"So you agree. There is a double standard."

"Yes."

The idea of this pampered starlet comparing her privilege to real suffering itched at Tawan. She wanted to explain what unfairness really looked like for most people, or being forced into circumstances with no safety net.

She gestured at the screen to get the conversation back on track. "Anything else I should know about anyone on the list? Anyone we missed?"

Ira's eyes still held a spark of something, but it wasn't clear if it was anger anymore.

"You thought I was spoiled and self-centered and flighty the second we met. Before, probably. You had your opinion all worked out based on all the crap." She waved vaguely at the cameras.

Tawan was surprised she'd picked up on it, but she didn't deny it. "My personal opinion isn't relevant." She tapped the screen. "Focus, please."

"I think you hit all the lowlights." Ira crumpled the bag of greasy takeout with both hands, then tossed it at the trash can.

Tawan watched the meal she'd spent twenty minutes in line for land with a loud thunk. The effort she'd made, like the hours of hard work her team had poured into the case, went unnoticed.

"I need you to take this seriously, Ms. Suwannathat," Tawan said firmly.

Ira gave her a flat stare. "The first five names are all Sorawit groupies. I didn't stick with any of them for more than three months. They run in the same circles, they're at all the same parties, and none of them would have to sneak into my dressing room as a delivery boy. The next ten...I don't recognize by name at all. Maybe if I saw their faces. I'm better with faces." She pointed at a name further down. "There's one. Jason Teerapat. He's a super VIP who's at all of Kate's concerts. He's harmless. Besides, he's in love with Kate. Not me."

Tawan moved Teerapat's name to the top of the list. "No one that passionate is harmless, Ms. Suwannathat. Thank you. This was productive."

Ira leaned back, her expression shifting into something sharper. "Isn't it time to admit you're never going to find him and you're just spinning this out for a big paycheck?"

Tawan closed the laptop and stood, her posture rigid and disciplined, like a soldier ready for inspection. "I don't spin."

"I can believe that," Ira muttered. "I doubt you've ever done anything that fun."

"I've done plenty of fun things. They just don't make national news."

"You know, that was pretty judgy for someone who says they're not judging."

"I never said I wasn't judging. Just that it wasn't relevant." Tawan gestured toward the door. "Again, thank you for your time."

Ira didn't budge. "I want parole. I want to go visit Wisanu. Just for a couple of days. He lives in Chiang Mai. Nobody would ever find me there. Chiang Mai's practically another planet compared to Bangkok."

"Anyone could find you if you went to your brother's place. Including, as I recall, certain fans who track your every move through social media posts, sightings, and pure obsession."

"Low blow." Ira's chin lifted in that defiant way that might have been alluring if she weren't...well, Ira Suwannathat. "I'm not doing this forever, Warden. I can't. I won't. I have a life, and it's not in this villa."

Tawan resisted the urge to scrub her face with her hands. "We're working as fast as we can to get you back to that life. Believe me, Ms. Suwannathat, that's our only priority."

"Sure it is." Ira's gaze darted toward the closed laptop. "If that's all you have, then you don't have anything. Prove to me that there's something to worry about, or go find someone else to torture."

She turned and stalked out the door without waiting for a response, her anger leaving a charged silence in her wake.

Tawan watched her go, her jaw tightening. She had a feeling the only kind of proof Ira would believe was the kind that involved something much worse than flowers left in a dressing room.