Page 17 of Wired Strong

Pim Wat rose from her chair. She’d been working out with yoga and pilates, and her breasts had been tightened and filled. They rose proudly without need of a bra, her pert nipples lifting the cream-colored silk of her robe and drawing the eyes of the surgeons as they turned toward her, their faces wreathed in smiles, their relief palpable.

Men. They were all the same, the simple creatures.

“To my talented team. May you prosper as you deserve!” She raised her glass. They raised theirs. Everyone drank deep, as was traditional. “Thank you again for my exemplary care. Your fees will be posted today.”

She’d promised an astronomical fee by direct deposit, and it was indeed on its way to their bank accounts for all of their families to enjoy.

She sat back down. Turned toward the mirror again. Looked at her face, turning from side to side to admire it.Unfamiliar, but beautiful. A fresh start to a new chapter in her life. “Kupa, come here.”

The maid came to her side. Pim Wat still didn’t like the lumpish, timid woman, but she’d had Kupa’s breasts and face lifted and her hips liposuctioned; she was less of an eyesore. The facelift had brightened her eyes and tightened her sagging cheeks. Pim Wat enjoyed pretty things. “You look nice, too, Kupa.”

“Mistress.” Kupa ducked her head. Her graying hair was a fresh shiny black now, a smooth curtain lengthened with extensions. “You honor me.”

“The team did a good job on both of us.” Pim Wat drained her beer and set her glass on the tray Kupa still held. “They deserve what we paid them.”

When the doctors died, it was sudden and silent. They collapsed, one by one, in the middle of talking, smiling, laughing, and toasting that they’d gotten away unscathed from working on the consort of the most powerful man in Thailand.

No foaming at the mouth, no ugly vomiting or seizing or soiling of their pants. The poison paralyzed them first, then stopped their hearts. Painless and merciful; tidy and civilized.

That poison was one of Pim Wat’s favorite tinctures. An additional bonus was that the victim appeared to have died of natural causes.

Death was the most secure non-disclosure agreement, and her records were already erased. No one would ever be able to speak of what had been done to Pim Wat, of who she’d been, or what she looked like now.

Kupa, standing beside Pim Wat, trembled from head to toe. Pim Wat’s empty, beribboned glass tottered on the tray.

“Stop that, Kupa. You’re making me uncomfortable, and I dislike being uncomfortable.”

“You said I was putting a vitamin in their drinks. A supplement to make them more comfortable in your presence, Mistress.” Kupa was about to drop the tray, she was shaking so hard.

Pim Wat took the bamboo platter and set it on the vanity. “They felt nothing—an easy death. Look at their peaceful faces.”

Kupa looked. They were very dead: their mouths slack, their eyes open. “I killed them, Mistress.” She covered her face with her hands and burst into sobs.

“Useless twat!” Pim Wat lost patience. She set aside her glass, picked up the tray, and whacked Kupa with it, hard. “Stop that blubbering at once, and go fetch the cleanup crew.”

Kupa fled.

Pim Wat went into the walk-in closet filled with designer clothes she’d bought to celebrate her new identity. She tried on outfits as the Master’s ninjas removed the bodies and the glasses and tidied her suite.

Plastic surgery was a risky career, in Thailand.

Chapter Fourteen

Raveaux

Day 3 afternoon

Raveaux followedLeede into a well-appointed office in a suite off of busy King Street. “Nice space you’ve got here.”

“Offices send an important message to clients.” Leede hung her petite jacket on a hanger and stowed it in a shiny carved armoire behind her desk. “I’ve been here for five years. Retired from a government agency job in the UK, and relocated here after my divorce.” Leede gestured to a table in the corner fronted by two comfortable-looking chairs. “Why don’t you have a seat? It might be best for you to become aware of how I do my work, then we can decide how your role fits in.”

“Perfect.” Raveaux sat in one of the chairs she indicated. He opened his worn messenger bag and removed a pad and pen.

Leede nodded to his satchel. “That looks familiar.”

“I too, retired from a government job before relocating here for the weather,” Raveaux said. “I was an inspector with the French police.”

“Ah. I have great respect for my sister agency. I was with Scotland Yard.”

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