Wired Courage: Paradise Crime, Book 9

by Toby Neal

“Get a pen and paper. Let’s make some notes, develop a script for you. The Master is uncanny in his persuasiveness. You will find yourself telling him things you never would have intended to.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Sophie said, and got out her tablet. “I’ll make notes on this.”

  “How did you get this number, Sophie Smithson?” The Master’s rich voice, on speakerphone, filled the small bathroom the two women had crowded into to contain the sound, and so that Armita could monitor the conversation.

  “You are not untraceable, sir. I am calling because you have something I want.” Sophie’s voice was steady, but tension bracketing her eyes revealed her stress. Armita patted her arm encouragingly.

  “The man I released must have told you by now about the prince and his condition.”

  “He has.”

  “My offer is this: provide what the prince needs, and I will return your man to you. Provided, of course, that Connor wants to go.”

  Sophie frowned. “Why would he want to stay at the compound?”

  “Connor has a taste for the deeper things. He has a wonderful mind and a great curiosity,” the Master said.

  Armita felt the appeal of the man’s words, as Sophie must. “Don’t hurt him,” Sophie whispered.

  Facing Sophie, Armita shook her head vigorously and made a throat-cutting gesture. But it was too late. The Master’s voice was already casting its spell over Sophie—Armita could see it happening and could do nothing to stop it.

  “Why would I do that? I enjoy a life of the mind, the spirit, and the body, and Connor does too. I think you have the wrong impression of me, based upon your mother and her behavior.”

  Sophie met Armita’s eyes and cleared her throat. “Are you telling me that you had nothing to do with the ambush that took my men’s lives?”

  “That was most unfortunate. I left communications with you about the prince’s bone marrow up to your mother. I should have known that she could not, or would not, exercise finesse. Much as I care for her, Pim Wat has a limited perspective.”

  Sophie nodded in agreement, clearly forgetting the Master could not see her gesture. “My mother is a psychopath.”

  “Be that as it may,” the Master said imperturbably. “In this instance, she allowed her dark appetites an upper hand. I should not have given her free rein, and for that I apologize.”

  Armita’s eyes widened involuntarily—this was the first time she’d ever heard the Master apologize.

  She had to get them off the subject of Pim Wat! She had to keep Sophie focused before she let something slip. She picked up the tablet on which they’d made notes, picked up the stylus and underlined the sentence, get specifics on the exchange. She held the tablet up for Sophie to see.

  Sophie nodded, and continued her conversation with the Master. “While I find talking with you interesting, we must stay on topic. Where shall I go to make the bone marrow donation? And before you tell me I need to come to the compound, I refuse to go there. I will, however, go somewhere public and medically focused, like a hospital. That’s all I will consider.”

  “I am glad to hear that, because your cousin is currently at Bangkok Hospital. Contact this doctor there.” He rattled off a doctor’s name and number. “He is coordinating the prince’s care. Identify yourself as the prince’s cousin Sophie Smithson. They will be expecting you.”

  “And after that? When are you releasing Connor?” Sophie’s voice sounded raspy. Armita patted her arm again.

  “I will be in touch, with a place and time for you to pick up your man.”

  “He’s not my man.”

  “Oh no? Then whose is he?” The Master ended the call.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Day Thirty-Two

  Late evening sunlight slanted in as Jake opened the door of his studio apartment in Hilo. Memories assailed him as soon as he did so—mostly of how seldom he’d actually spent time in the sparely decorated space. Sophie’s apartment, a few doors down on the same floor, was bigger, with a separate bedroom that she used as a home office. They’d found her place to be a little more comfortable, with the spare room where their two large dogs could sprawl on their beds out from underfoot. They had both set up their futon beds to face the sliders that looked out over Hilo Bay, and Jake had spent most nights with Sophie in a room with a layout that mirrored this one.

  His apartment smelled musty, unopened. Which of course, was exactly what it was. He had been gone for over a month.

  Jake set down the backpack of necessities he had picked up in Thailand, but there was nothing in it of value but the laptop and new phone he had procured to replace those left at Connor’s before the start of the mission. He walked across the carpet and opened the glass slider, going out onto the little deck to breathe in the wind off of the Bay.

  If he shut his eyes, and just listened to the sound of the coqui frogs tuning up in the banyan tree, he could pretend they never left Hawaii. Pretend that the sun was setting on a busy day and Sophie and the baby were in her apartment, with the dogs. He was just grabbing a few things, a change of clothes, before heading over to her place for the night. He could pretend that he was still working on getting her to move to an actual house, where they could live together, building a life and a family, with his ring on her finger.

  But that wasn’t what was happening.

  His misery needed a physical expression.

  Jake turned and went into the workout corner he had set up, a simple rubber mat and a weight set and bench for when he was stuck at home for some reason. He sat down on the bench, picked up the barbell, and did overhead presses. Then lat pulldowns. And then, sit-ups on the slant board.

  His body felt unfamiliar, a combination of both old and new—as if he had to learn everything all over again.

  Maybe dying was some kind of cosmic reset button—the first day of the rest of his miserable life.

  His phone toned, buzzing in a circle where he had set it on the counter when he entered. He got up and scowled when he saw the name on the little screen: Dr. Kinoshita, Security Solutions’ psychologist. He’d known she would want a debrief, and that time must’ve come.

  “Hey, Dr. Kinoshita. I know we need to talk. I’d like to set something up for tomorrow.” Jake didn’t let her ask him any questions. He got her to commit to a time for a Skype interview, and ended the call.

  He didn’t need to look around after setting down the phone to know that this apartment held nothing for him.

  Tomorrow, he’d go work at the Hilo office and see what was on the schedule for investigation. He’d pick up the reins of his life and figure out how to go on. But for now, he needed a distraction. He didn’t want to go through the decision tree that had led to breaking up with Sophie even one more time today.

  Jake tied on his running shoes and headed out.

  The sunset blazed to the west. Palm trees rustled in a gentle breeze. Yep, this was a tame and mellow paradise compared to the jungles of Thailand—and a brisk run around the park at Hilo Bay was just what the doctor ordered.

  Jake ran too hard to think, blazing along the paved walkway past old ladies on park benches, tourists with cameras, mynah birds on palm trees. Every time he thought of Sophie, he stopped and did push-ups.

  If push-ups worked as punishment for the recruits of the Yām Khûmkạn, they were good enough for him.

  Making a formal statement to the police with Bix on Oahu had been a sobering exercise. He’d had to describe the men who had left on the ill-fated mission with them, the progress of their journey, and their bloody and fatal end. Reliving those moments of horror in detail had left him cold and shaky.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Jake?” Bix hadn’t wanted to let him leave Oahu so quickly to return to running the Big Island office alone. The President of Operations had let him go eventually, on the condition that he would speak to Dr. Kinoshita. If the psychologist gave Jake the all clear to work, he could get back into the office.

  He didn’t
think Sophie would be coming back to the Big Island anytime soon. She wouldn’t want to work with him in close proximity any more than he’d want to be near her, and Alika would want time with his daughter. She’d either end up on Kaua`i or Oahu.

  Momi. Now there was a painful thought. He hadn’t just lost Sophie, he’d lost the baby he’d chosen to think of as his daughter.

  But she never had been.

  Just as well that Jake had never been able to get to know her.

  Jake dropped to the ground for more push-ups, besieged by unwelcome thoughts.

  He just couldn’t take any more of the lies and betrayals.

  Secrets would always be a part of his life if he stayed with Sophie. There would be things she wouldn’t tell him. People she saw that he never knew about.

  He’d gotten used to Alika being a part of the picture by truly believing that, in spite of Momi’s existence, any romantic connection with Sophie was over.

  But Connor was another story.

  Connor still loved Sophie. And all this time, he’d likely been trying to get her back, trying to get her to forgive him for faking his death.

  Connor was a major player. Who could resist a good-looking billionaire entrepreneur hacker dude with a private island? The man was perfect for Sophie, except for that one glaring problem—his addiction to vigilante justice. And honestly, Jake couldn’t see that being that much of a problem after all they’d been through lately. Whether or not she had ever had sex with Connor while she was with Jake, she shared an emotional connection with the man, and he just couldn’t tolerate it.

  And Connor was his boss.

  That was something else that needed to change. When the man came back from Thailand, Jake would quit the company. Leave this scuzzy apartment and move on with his life somewhere else. He’d done it before, and he could do it again—never mind how sick his stomach felt at the thought.

  Jake cursed aloud. He’d promised himself he was done thinking about it, going through the loop again! The push-ups weren’t enough. He jumped into some burpees, heaving his legs out so hard they tore holes in the grass, then jumping back up. Sweat poured into his eyes and blinded him.

  “You okay, uncle?” A little mixed-Hawaiian girl stood in front of him, holding the leash of a shaggy dog that was much too big for her. “You get pilikia?”

  Pilikia—the Hawaiian word for trouble. Yep, Jake had that in spades. He swiped his forehead with an arm. “Nah, kid. I’m fine. Just some problems at work.” Jake smiled, but it hurt his face.

  “You should drink water. There’s some over there.” The child pointed to a nearby water fountain. She was so cute, this little girl like so many in Hawaii—all big brown eyes, long black hair, warm brown skin. She looked just like Momi would someday.

  Jake dusted off his hands. “I’m good, thanks. Have a nice day, kid. And remember not to talk to strangers—not everybody deserves your sweet smile, okay?”

  She giggled. “Okay.”

  The dog spotted something more interesting than Jake, and towed the child away to investigate. Jake looked around for a parent. He finally spotted a chubby woman pushing a stroller and hollering for her daughter. He waved to her and pointed to the kid, and then moved off at a jog.

  He forced himself to think about reentering the office and picking up his long-neglected cases.

  Felicia would have things in order. She had kept the whole Big Island operation running while they were tied up with the birth and then the kidnapping.

  That girl was a gem.

  Jake ran back to the house, feeling better. Looser. A little more alert. He’d gotten a few endorphins going, he was on his way back to getting in shape, and he even had a plan: he’d find another security outfit to work for, maybe even leave Hawaii. There was work all over the world for someone with his skills.

  Never mind that he’d been looking forward to letting that lifestyle go, and settling down with the woman he loved and their child . . .

  Jake jogged up the stairs to the third-floor landing, and pulled up short at the sight of Felicia standing outside his door. The pretty blonde was balancing an extra-large pizza on one hand, and holding a six-pack of beer in the other. She was staring at the door, clearly debating which to put down in order to ring his bell. She turned and smiled. Jake blinked at the radiance of her grin.

  “Thought you might want a little welcome home party. I even brought my collection of The Walking Dead DVDs for us to binge-watch.”

  An answering smile pulled Jake’s cheeks up into an unfamiliar curve, and this time it didn’t hurt. “That sounds perfect.” He took in her cute figure dressed in her workout clothes—short shorts and a sleeveless tee. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, babe.”

  “I told you not to call me that.” Felicia’s smile faded. “Unless you were asking me out.”

  “Sophie and I are not together anymore.” When would it stop hurting to say that?

  “What? Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Felicia’s eyes widened. The pizza box tipped dangerously, headed for disaster.

  Jake lunged forward and caught the box. “It’s a long story, and it’s not pretty. You got time? I need to practice my spiel for the debrief with Dr. Kinoshita, and I’d love to catch you up.”

  Felicia held up the six-pack. “What do you think this is for?”

  “Then come on in.” Jake grinned as he unlocked the door. “Babe.”

  Felicia shook her head. “Not funny, old man.”

  But it was kind of funny, and he was smiling—for the first time in days.

  Chapter Forty

  Day Thirty-Three

  The crown prince of Thailand gazed up at Sophie from a wheelchair, his eyes circled by dark rings, his skin sallow and his lips ashy. He looked deeply ill, and Sophie’s heart squeezed with compassion as she dropped to a height to take his hand. “My Prince, it’s great to meet you. I’m your cousin Sophie. I have been living in the United States so we have not been able to meet before.”

  “My mother told me that. I am glad to meet you, as well.” His hand felt chilly and limp in hers.

  Six black-clad Yām Khûmkạn ninjas surrounded them. From the moment Sophie had shown up at the hospital, she had been surrounded by her own security detail of warriors. Clearly, the Yām Khûmkạn took their duties as guardians of the royal family seriously.

  The heavyset woman who had been pushing the young prince’s wheelchair came forward, and Sophie straightened up and hugged her cousin, careful not to touch her elaborate headdress. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here to help, Your Majesty. I didn’t know your son was sick.”

  “I told your mother at least two years ago that Bashar was having his first round of chemo,” the queen said, frowning. “He has gone through multiple rounds, and it is in remission—but as you may have heard it can do, the treatment’s wiped out his red blood cells. If this bone marrow transfer works, it could help rebuild his system.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. Glad to help.”

  “Your mother told me that you have had a child,” the queen said. “Congratulations!”

  “Yes, I am very happy. I have a healthy daughter, Momi Tansanee. She is waiting for me, and that makes me eager to complete this process. I understand the whole procedure will take some time, and I will need a bit of recovery as well.”

  “We are so glad we were able to meet you here so the transmission can be immediate. I can’t wait to see a little color bloom in my son’s cheeks.”

  “Mama. You’re embarrassing me,” the prince complained.

  Sophie shook her head, smiling. “My father still embarrasses me, Your Highness. Parents are just like that.”

  A tall ninja with long, braided black hair, unusual because the rest of the warriors had shaved heads, walked over to them. Taller than the rest of the black-clad guards, he wore a white gi and an aura of power. The queen inclined her head graciously as the man bowed from the waist, his hands folded. The prince smiled and extended a hand. “Master. You came.”


  “Of course. I’m here to watch over you and this procedure, Your Highness,” the man said. Sophie took in the man’s well-built figure, his glossy braid decorated with jade ornaments, the simple leather slip-ons he wore. He turned toward her. Sophie blinked, surprised by his dark purple eyes.

  “Sophie Malee. Your mother speaks of you often. I am pleased to meet you at last.” The man took her hand. His grip was cool and dry; hers was hot and sweaty.

  Sophie nodded like a marionette, groping for words. “You must be the Master.”

  “Yes.” His unusual gaze tracked over her face. “I see your beautiful mother in your face.”

  Sophie’s chest flushed at the compliment, and her hand fluttered over the scar on her cheek. “You are too kind.”

  Her heart gave a twinge of guilt and sorrow. Pim Wat had disappeared into the bowels of the CIA’s system, and she still didn’t know whether her mother had lived or died. She had no idea what kind of care the agency had provided her—it would be as good as they were able to give, because they wanted her alive. But would it be good enough?

  The warmth in the Master’s unusual eyes told Sophie that he loved her mother.

  He must never know what had happened to Pim Wat. The Master would make a formidable enemy.

  A white jacketed doctor came in with a clipboard. “Sophie Smithson? We have some procedural things to go over with you.”

  Sophie turned back to the queen and the prince, and bowed. “I’m sure you have things to do to prepare as well. I am honored that I can help.”

  “Thank you, Sophie,” the queen said. The prince inclined his head, looking exhausted.

  “We want to go over the procedure with you,” the doctor said. “Come this way, please.”

  Sophie caught the Master’s pristine sleeve in her fingers. “Walk with me.”

  His eyes flashed with something—surprise? Resentment? Sophie had the feeling that not too many people touched or directed him as she had. He bowed to the royals, and followed Sophie as they went out into the hallway in the doctor’s wake. Out in the hall, Sophie turned to face him. “I require proof of life before I go any further. Show me a photo or video, or preferably get Connor on the phone, so that I can verify he is alive and well.”