Run Away by Laura Salters Page A

like she’d reached for a top step that wasn’t there. Drug money . It has to be . But three grand?
    Kathy was oblivious to Kayla’s shock. “I couldn’t give it to him, though. I did want my boy to have an amazing trip, see the world like I never did. But I just couldn’t afford it, so I told him he would have to come home. I had no idea he might have needed it for something else.”
    “You couldn’t have known, Kathy.”
    More tears. “I should have tried harder to get the money together, then none of this would have . . .”
    A knot was starting to form in Kayla’s stomach. If she’d pushed Sam for an explanation, she might have been able to help. It was common knowledge that her family wasn’t exactly strapped for cash. Three thousand pounds would have been pocket change for her dad, who’d spend a similar amount on a suit without a second thought. To think Sam might have lost his life over something as vulgar as money was unthinkable. No wonder Kathy was so distraught. She would forever carry around the knowledge that if she’d had some savings behind her, she might still have a son.
    Kayla asked the question she’d been dying to know the answer to. “Do you really think, though, that Sam would have got himself into so much trouble over drugs ? I mean, he was so careful and thoughtful. He’s the kind of guy who would never cheat on a test. If he found a wallet on the street, he’d take it to the police station, or if he saw somebody fall over, he’d rush over to help them up while the rest of us laughed uncontrollably. He was—­or still is—­a good person. You must know that more than anyone. I mean . . . cocaine ? Debt? Drug deals gone wrong?” The room seemed to have suddenly quieted a few decibels, and Kayla lowered her voice in case anyone was listening. “I just can’t see it. I really can’t. Those theories do not fit that boy.”
    “That was my initial reaction, too,” Kathy said, nodding. “I thought they had the wrong person. Then when they told me it was definitely my Sam who was missing, something inside me still wouldn’t believe it. I thought the DNA tests would show it was somebody else’s blood, or he’d pop up somewhere in a ­couple of hours having cut his foot on a rock, or something equally clumsy and Samlike.” Kayla couldn’t help but smile. Sam’s ungraceful mannerisms were like a shared secret between the two grieving women. “But the hours turned into days, and the days into weeks. Still no Sam. I don’t know what else to think, Kayla. There’s no other explanation. I keep trying to think about what would drive him to that.”
    The knot in Kayla’s stomach tightened.

 
    Chapter 11
    April 16, Thailand
    “S AM’S STILL IN bed, marinating in shame and tequila sweat,” Dave practically sang, the café’s air-­conditioning allowing his voice to resume normal, ear-­piercing ser­vice.
    “Delightful.” Russia shot Kayla a sideways look. Kayla hadn’t fully divulged what had happened between her and Sam in the park the night before. That would mean explaining about her brother. But Russia had a well-­trained radar for these things. Two ­people disappearing together for two hours, then returning to the hostel in mutual silence, spelled gossip.
    Sam, it transpired, did not share the same sense of discretion.
    “So, Kayla. I hear you shot old Sammy boy down last night. Brutal—­I like it!” Dave offered his hand to Kayla, demanding a high five.
    Kayla declined. “He told you?”
    “Well, yes,” Dave said, dropping his arm and looking hurt at the rejection. “But he would have told me anything last night. He told me all of the passwords and security questions I’d need to commit serious fraud on his Internet banking, but I’m a top friend and just pinched a tenner.”
    “That was noble of you.”
    Russia chimed in, “I think I deserve a cut, Dave. I did buy him that shot rack of black Sambuca, so I’m to thank for getting him in such a