by Toby Neal
Sophie sat, completely isolated from what was happening. Her body felt inanimate, a robot that contained her essence as she observed the exclaiming chaos that followed the proposal, the toasts led by Egidio, the radiant smile Marcella flashed at the group as she held up her hand with the dazzling ring on it, her face alight with happiness and shiny with tears as Marcus squeezed her against his side.
Seated in the shadows under the plumeria tree out of view, Sophie just breathed, trapped in her body— and gradually her atoms reassembled themselves. One by one, Sophie’s senses seemed to reboot, drawing her back into the here and now.
She smelled the fresh-cut grass and the tree overhead. She heard the Hawaiian music and the joyful explosion of congratulations going on. She felt the plastic arms of the chair under her hands, the way the evening air wafted across her freshly shaved legs in Mary Watson’s flowered skirt. She saw the beauty and love before her. She smiled, and felt her cheeks move.
Jake reappeared with a couple of glasses of champagne. “Here. Toast.” He stood beside her and she lifted her glass as Frank stepped up to lead another toast to the happy couple.
Sophie sipped the sparkling wine at the toast. She tasted its tartness, felt the bubbles in her nose, at the back of her throat. She swallowed the last of her tears down, down, down, into the darkness inside of her. And she closed the lid on it, for now.
“I’m okay. I’m okay now, Jake.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks. I just needed a moment. And a glass of champagne.” She glanced over at the porch.
Marcella was looking for her, scanning the party area, a crease between her brows.
Her friend would be worried, wanting Sophie to be okay, instinctively concerned about how her own good fortune would affect her unlucky friend. Marcella was that kind of person.
Sophie didn’t deserve Marcella’s friendship, but she had to get past herself to do right by it. She knew that much. She stood up, handed her champagne glass to Jake, and strode across the grass and up the stairs to engulf both Marcus and Marcella in her biggest, best, strongest hug. “I am so happy for you two. You give me hope,” she said into the sweet space between their faces.
And in that moment, it was true.
The Ghost ran along the night beach, the weight of his Walther PPK in the shoulder harness smacking lightly against his ribs. He didn’t find the reminder of his weapon annoying any longer—he’d been wearing it so constantly that it had become a part of him, an extension like the dog at his side.
Anubis was off leash, trotting on sand so white and fine it reminded him of sugar, gleaming silver under the stars. Here in Thailand, no leash rules bound them but Anubis’s training.
Delicate moonlit ripples splashed onto the shore, glowing blue with bioluminescence. The dark shapes of unfamiliar tropical trees and tiny offshore islands created an exotic moonlit vista. The Ghost remembered Hawaii with a pang; this was just as beautiful, but he missed Sophie’s presence as she ran with him, that lovable, unmannerly dog of hers romping ahead.
Sophie should come home to Thailand and sort out her relationship with her mother. Make peace with her past. It would be good for her to deal with those old wounds, and Thailand was a place where she’d blend in beautifully.
He allowed himself a fantasy of the life they could have far from the restrictions and prying eyes of her law enforcement background.
Perhaps Sophie would reach out to him through the software program, or the chat room they had set up and used in the past. He was a patient man. Someday she would forgive him, and they would have the future he longed for.
For now, Thailand was rife with corruption and needed the Ghost’s full attention.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Sophie settled herself into the now-familiar seat in the Bell Jet Ranger. Seated beside her, Alika handed her a helmet and she slipped it on, clipping the chinstrap and turning on the comm unit.
“Ready?” Alika’s warm brown eyes gleamed behind his face visor.
“Ready.” Sophie gave a thumbs-up.
Alika hit the ignition switch, and the chopper thrummed to life.
It had been two weeks since Sophie returned to Oahu and the case in Kalalau wrapped up. She and Ginger had spent that time at her father’s apartment recuperating: resuming her workouts at the new gym, Fighting Fit, catching up with her friends, and figuring out her next steps.
Security Solutions had offered to extend her private security contract, but she had declined for the moment. Now that the oppressive pall of possible charges against her had lifted, Sophie wanted to continue her exploration of the Hawaiian Islands on foot.
Alika, on Oahu to check in with his gym, had offered to fly her to her next destination, the Big Island. Sophie wanted to hike the many trails of that splendid and primordial island after a stop to visit with Dr. Caprice Wilson in Hilo. She was looking forward to seeing the petite blonde psychologist again, and having someone she knew and trusted help her sort through the threads of her life.
Alika lifted the collective, and the helicopter rose as gently as if floating. Sophie sucked in a breath of awe and exhilaration as the chopper soared off of her father’s high-rise building and veered over the downtown Honolulu skyline.
Early morning sun gilded the east side of the skyscrapers, lighting the waves far below, already dotted with surfers in the Waikiki lineup. The helicopter tilted as they headed south, and Sophie turned her head to bid the rugged silhouette of Diamond Head, site of many of her run-hikes, goodbye.
They left the city behind. Sophie scanned the crinkled blue surface of the ocean for whale signs as her hand crept back to caress Ginger’s big square head. The Lab was tied behind her seat for safety, but had wedged herself as far forward as she could get, her muzzle aligned with Sophie’s thigh.
The wind was not yet up, making the flight smooth. They passed the great yellow and green hump that was Maui, and soon they were circling in to fly low over glowing red veins of trickling lava making their way through a vast blackened plain. She’d asked Alika to take her to where the flows from Kilauea Volcano met the sea on an area of newborn land. It had seemed a good place to start her latest journey.
Alika searched for a smooth landing spot, and finally set the Dragonfly down on the last bit of paved road in Kalapana, before it was buried in hardened coruscations of black stone.
He removed his helmet and Sophie hers as the rotors slowed and the engine whined to a stop. She took a thick wad of cash out of her pocket and held it out to him. “For expenses.”
Alika shook his head. “No need.”
“Yes. There is a need. I have taken your time and used your equipment. You must be compensated.”
Alika’s golden-brown gaze met hers. He reached over and hooked a hand around the back of her neck, drawing her toward him. Sophie’s eyes closed and she sank into the kiss. A long moment passed as they savored the taste and touch of each other.
She drew back into her seat. Her hand touched her tingling lips.
“All I need by way of compensation.” Alika said.
Her cheeks heated. She looked away. “I can’t be in a relationship right now.”
“I understand. I know you need time to recover from everything. Time to learn there are still people you can trust. I just want to be one of those.”
Sophie looked down and thought of Jake.
She missed Jake. He had been back on the Maui job after Marcella’s engagement party, and they’d had no contact other than a few phone calls. Jake was someone she could trust. So were Marcella and Lei. Even Waxman and Ken Yamada were people she could trust—and her father, back at his ambassador job in Washington, most of all.
Sophie was surrounded by an “ohana” of friends and family. This journey she was on still needed to be taken alone, but a tiny flame of hope rose in her that it wouldn’t always be that way.
Alika got out of his side of the chopper, and as he turned away, Sophie slid the money into a slot beside his seat. Better not to make any unspoken prom
ises she couldn’t keep.
She led Ginger out through her passenger door as Alika lifted out her heavy backpack and set it on the road. He looked around. “No one anywhere for miles out here. I feel bad just letting you out like this. You sure you don’t need a ride somewhere?”
Sophie smiled. “I am fully capable of making my own way anywhere I want to go. Thank you for all you’ve done. I’ll be in touch.”
“You better be. Or I’ll come looking for you.” Alika smiled, but she knew he meant it.
She watched as the helicopter lifted off of the lava and into the sky, buzzing away like the dragonfly he’d named it.
Sophie hefted the backpack and shrugged into it, settling the weight on her hips. It was full of camping and food supplies, and she made sure that the side pocket containing the Ghost software and her satellite laptop with DAVID loaded on it was specially waterproofed and travel ready. She’d also brought her Glock this time, since she was traveling under her own name with a concealed carry permit, and wouldn’t be taking a commercial airline flight.
Sophie tightened the straps, picked up Ginger’s leash, and headed into the virgin lava field, a feeling a lot like joy filling her with strength for the journey ahead, wherever it might lead.
Turn the page to keep reading book six of the Paradise Crime Thrillers, Wired Justice!
Wired Justice
Paradise Crime, Book 6
“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”
Charlotte Brontë
Chapter One
The best place to think about life was on a volcano.
Sophie Ang tried to hold that thought as she held a hand up to shade her eyes, watching Alika Wolcott, ex-MMA coach, friend, and possible lover, pilot the chopper that had dropped her off up and away from the desolate lava field.
She couldn’t suppress a pang of anxiety as she turned to view the plain. What had she gotten herself into now?
Kalapana on the Big Island was a landscape of stark contrasts. The deep blue sky arched overhead, depthless and unbroken. Desolate as a moonscape, acres of black lava stretched away in every direction to the ocean, where a restless sea beat against the fresh stone. The only sign of human presence was the remains of what had once been a two-lane highway, engulfed periodically by shiny black rock that gleamed iridescent in the sun of high noon.
“Come, Ginger.” Sophie’s yellow Lab had been nosing for smells around a rock, and came to Sophie’s side at her call. Sophie attached the Lab’s leash to her belt with a clip and tightened the straps of her backpack once more, settling the weight so that it rested evenly on her hips. She set off toward the area of active lava flow that she had been able to see from the helicopter as they flew over the plain.
All the tourists visiting the lava flow site had made a road of sorts across the expanse. It was easy to follow their tracks. As the morning wore on, Sophie encountered people riding rented bikes, other hikers, and tourists of every stripe, age, and build. Even a quad rumbled past her, towing a flat trailer loaded with tourists.
Sophie reached a crude viewing area taped off with yellow caution tape and found a good vantage point, slightly out of the gusty wind that whipped over the wide flank of the volcano, hitting the ocean like a cat batting the surface with its paw.
The lava ran in a sinuous, slow-moving, hypnotic glowing river to the edge of the cliff of new stone. Molten red chunks of liquid rock dropped into the sea in a relentless stream, causing explosions of steam and a crackling sound like breaking glass as extreme heat met its match in the water.
Sophie watched the majestic sight from beside her stone bulwark, one hand on Ginger’s ruff. The dog whined, but calmed under her hand as hours passed with no sense of time. They watched the blood of the earth ooze forth inexorably, hit the ocean in sizzling bursts, and slowly build the island.
Sunset bloomed spectacularly to the west over the sea in reds and yellows that echoed the colors of the lava. The light faded into purple and indigo. Stars appeared, the moon rose, and the tourists mounted their bikes, shouldered their toddlers, and headed back toward the parking area some miles away.
Sophie ate a couple of energy bars, drank some water, and fed Ginger some kibble, still watching the lava trickle into the sea. The gleaming surface brightened even more as darkness fell.
She felt no urgency to leave. This was all, and it was enough.
Eventually, she undid her bedroll and sleeping bag. She lay down with the dog close against her, still enthralled by the lava’s pageantry.
The soft breath of next morning’s breeze caressed Sophie’s face, waking her. She had come to no conclusions nor had any deep insights about her bizarre and fragmented life, lying there on the cliff and watching the lava drip into the ocean—but she reveled in that elusive sense of freedom she’d been seeking.
Still meditative, Sophie eventually rolled up her sleeping bag and headed out. She didn’t feel ready to deal with people right now, and was glad of the early morning emptiness on the lava plain. She glimpsed a whale spout in the nearby ocean as she and Ginger, unleashed, walked over the raw lava back toward civilization.
The dog gave a sudden bark, signaling her interest in something, and lunged off of the rough path worn by hundreds of feet. Sophie grabbed for her collar, but the Lab galloped away across the razor-sharp rock.
“Ginger, no!” Sophie cried. Ginger’s feet could be cut on the keen-edged lava! “Ginger, come!” She scrambled after the dog, continuing to call as she ran as fast as her forty-pound pack would allow.
Ginger could be impulsive, but this level of disobedience was rare. Sophie dropped the backpack to the ground to gain speed. “Ginger! Come!”
The lava rose in frozen, broken waves around her like a sea captured in black stone. Coruscations of lightweight a’a lava created banks and waterfalls, mounds and shelves. Sophie labored over the rugged surface, gleaming with iridescence and sharp as glass.
Ginger seemed to be heading for a stand of burned trees on a mound of a hill, emerging like an island in the ocean of the rugged black plain. Sophie had heard that these protrusions of unburned land were called kipukas. She scowled with fear and concern, noticing steam wafting up from cracks nearby. They were running around on an active hot zone! “Ginger! Daughter of a diseased warthog!”
Ginger wasn’t even listening to Sophie’s Thai cursing this time. The Lab disappeared into a stand of hardy ohia trees marking the edge of the kipuka. Sophie, a few seconds behind, entered the sheltering forest, her heart pounding with anxiety and frustration. “Ginger! Bad dog! You are not getting off the leash anymore!”
The dog’s answer was a sharp yap, followed by a frantic whine.
Something was wrong.
Sophie crashed through a screen of dense, brittle underbrush made up of ferns and bushes, swatting aside branches. Another time she would have enjoyed exploring the old-growth koa and ohia trees towering around her, the air filled with the melody of native birdsong.
The sweetish rotting smell of decomposition hit Sophie’s nose: Of course! Ginger was so excited about some awful dead animal. Nothing made the dog happier than rolling in a nicely aged piece of roadkill. Sophie had to catch the damn dog before she rolled in whatever had drawn her all this way.
Sophie parted the branches of a hardy guava tree, and stopped short, covering her mouth and nose with a hand.
Ginger stood, tail waving, amid a pile of dead bodies.
Chapter Two
Security Specialist Jake Dunn prided himself on his focus. Yeah, people said he was impulsive, but they just didn’t understand how he worked. When Jake was interested in something, he zeroed in on it like a heat-seeking missile and followed his instincts, which could look like a series of tangents to others—but he always ended up in the right place at the right time, nailing his objective. He’d seldom been wrong following his gut, and now it was telling him that something was wrong on the Big Island.
Security Soluti
ons’ newest clients, a couple in their late fifties wearing the golf shirts and chinos of the well-to-do, sat in chairs across from Jake and his boss, President of Operations Kendall Bix.
Bix was doing the interviewing. “So how long has your daughter been missing?”
“A week.” Kent Weathersby spoke, petting his wife’s hand over and over. Jake wasn’t much of a toucher and the tenderness in the gesture looked strange to him—but Betty Weathersby seemed to find it comforting. She snuggled into her husband, her immaculately coiffed head nestled on his shoulder.
“We reported Julie missing after she didn’t check in with us for our scheduled weekly talk. She had been on a backpacking trip through the islands, and we’d agreed she would check in with us every week. She’d been on the Big Island for a week, then we stopped hearing from her, so we contacted the authorities. The Hilo Police Department closest to the area where she was last seen has not been able to find her.” Weathersby spoke mechanically, as if he had rehearsed the speech so it would flow smoothly, even as his wife winced visibly with each mention of their daughter’s disappearance.
Jake cleared his throat. “I hope we can be of help, but you understand we will need to work closely with local law enforcement, and not step on anyone’s toes or duplicate efforts on the investigation.”
“Julie usually found a group of other campers to hang out with both for safety and fun. We’d only had two short check-in talks since she arrived on the Big Island. She was camping outside Volcanoes National Park. She hadn’t found anyone to hang out with yet that we knew of.” Betty’s wet blue gaze brought on a twinge of guilt. She reminded Jake of his mom.
His mom had flown all the way from the mainland to be at his bedside when he had been recovering from a recent gunshot wound. His sisters had come over too. Totally unnecessary, but at least they’d all been able to get a Hawaii vacation out of it.
