Page 37 of Facing the Enemy
“I just want to talk. Make sure his testimony is legit and offer protection if needed.”
“Did this man approach you?”
“No. Risa.”
“I see. Is she going with you?”
“Yes, sir. We leave at noon. First, I’m driving to the Saigon Sampler bombing site to see if anyone there can help detail the reason for the Phan sisters’ murders. Jack and I planned to interview any potential witnesses there before his attack.”
“Gage, I want your word that you’ll update me every step of the way on both of these cases.”
“I will.”
“Watch what you’re doing. I can put another team on the Trenton murder case.”
“No thanks. Risa would shoot me.”
“I imagine she’d unload several rounds.”
The once-thriving restaurant lay in smoking rubble. I recognized the state fire marshal sorting through the debris, a friend for several years. Although the fire department believed the explosion occurred due to gas tossed around the kitchen, the fire marshal investigated the scene to exemplify due diligence. I shook his hand. He and I ran track together in high school, and back then he went by the nickname “Smoke.” Still fit him, considering.
“Gage, let’s walk the area, and I’ll point out what I’ve uncovered.” We skirted the perimeter of what had been the kitchen. Smoke bent to examine ashes, and I joined him. “Over there—” he pointed—“is where firefighters found the women’s bodies. Apparently the killers shot them, then set fire to the kitchen as a deterrent. The male, overcome by smoke, collapsed on the opposite side of the kitchen by the door.”
“He might have seen the shooters but couldn’t get out the locked door.”
“The door makes me question if the man was an intended victim too.” Smoke used a pen to sift through more ashes. “I’ll leave my report open until we hear from the three autopsies.”
“Have you seen anyone digging through this?” I said.
“Some. Those Vietnamese over there have been here the longest.”He gestured to a woman and two men huddled together about fifty feet away.
“I wonder if they speak English.”
“They don’t, but I speak Vietnamese. Need a hand with the language?” When I nodded, Smoke walked with me to the three people. “They’re very cautious,” he said. “I had difficulty getting them to talk to me. They’re grieving the fire victims. My guess is they’re family, but they refused to give their names.”
“Anything I should know beforehand?” I said.
“Vietnamese culture is reflected in respect for the dead.”
“Fear and grief are tough to process. I’ll do my best.” Without showing the deceased persons proper reverence, I’d lose any trust. “We believe one of the sisters recently had her baby abducted.”
“And you’re thinking their deaths are linked to it?” Smoke said flatly. “I doubt you’ll get anything from them, but we can try. They will want to know why you’re here.”
“Tell them the truth.”
Smoke spoke in their native language and introduced me as an old friend who worked for the FBI. I wanted to find out what happened to three innocent people and help bring justice to their memories. I shared my condolences and gave my word to find out the source of the fire and who’d killed the women. I learned one man lost his brother in the fire, and the couple were cousins to the Phan sisters. Smoke’s soft tone and facial expressions showed his concern. I maintained a solemn stance.
“Do any of them know why the sisters were killed?” I waited while Smoke translated.
The men responded negatively. The woman paled. Fear etched deep into her face, and her eyes were rimmed in red.
I took a gamble and asked Smoke to translate. “Their deaths were an execution. Any information leading to the killer’s identity and arrest honors the lives of your loved ones.”
The three still claimed they had no idea of who or why. “Where is Hai’s baby?” I said.
Again no one had information. The woman swiped beneath her eyes with a shaky hand, and the man with her stiffened.
“Ma’am,” I said, “Hai told a friend her baby had been kidnapped.” After Smoke translated, the woman blinked, and I continued. “Did the person who shot Hai and Suzi also take Hai’s baby?”
