by Toby Neal
“She looks so young.” Sophie said.
“She’s twenty-four.”
“That’s how old I was when I escaped from Assan.” Sophie’s lips folded tight. “I didn’t feel young.”
She so seldom said anything about her fucked-up marriage. “That bastard stole your . . . your youth and innocence.” Jake growled. “May he rot in hell.”
“It’s some comfort that I sent him there.” Sophie opened the door of the Jeep and got out. Yeah, she’d sent him there, all right—Sophie had slit the man’s throat. Not that he didn’t deserve that, and more. Jake would’ve liked a little time to work on Assan Ang with a knife, himself.
They left Ginger secured in the vehicle with some water and a dog biscuit.
The two approached the first tent. A young mother sat on a beach towel near its entrance, playing with a baby wearing a puka shell necklace and a diaper. Sophie squatted to smile at the child, who reached out a hand, grasping her finger. “She’s darling.”
“Thank you. We think so,” the mom said.
Sophie was such a softie when it came to kids. Every case they’d worked so far, she seemed to get attached to any children involved. He’d never forget climbing over that fence at a cult’s headquarters in Waipio, carrying a couple of terrified children, with dogs and armed men on their trail.
Sophie chatted up the mother as Jake surveilled the camp. A young man strolled towards them, wearing a pair of board shorts and a battered tee. He carried a fishing pole and a stringer.
“Good fishing?” Jake loved fishing on any days he had off. Spin casting, stream fishing, reef walking, deep-sea—it didn’t matter, as long as he was near the water.
“Got a few papio for dinner.” Jake recognized the Hawaiian word for a small jack as the young man held up his catch. “What can we do for you, Detective?”
Jake laughed. “I’m not a cop. But Ms. Ang and I are private investigators.” He held up his Security Solutions ID, and Sophie showed hers as well. “We’re looking for a young woman who camped here around a week ago.” He held up his phone so they could see the photo of Julie Weathersby.
The young woman shook her head. “We’ve only been here a week. But I think the couple down by the creek has been here long enough to have seen her.”
Taking their leave, Jake and Sophie walked toward a battered tent set close to the water, away from the rest. Disorderly bins of personal clothing and objects were piled nearby. The door was zippered shut.
Jake flicked a finger at Sophie, cueing her to speak first. Women elicited less caution in an initial encounter. Sophie approached the tent. “Hello? Anyone inside? We need to speak with you.”
Rustling. Muttering. These people did not appear to be as friendly as the small family they’d first spoken to. Jake stepped aside out of view, his hand falling to the holstered weapon at his hip. Finally, the zipper moved upward slowly. A young woman poked her head out. Her blonde hair was snarled, falling over sunken eyes. He spotted a scabby sore on the back of her hand. “What do you want?”
Dark shadows moved behind her.
Sophie held up her phone for the young woman to see. “We’re looking for our friend Julie. She seems to have gone missing. Have you seen her?” The woman reached for the phone, but Sophie moved it up and away so that the photo was more visible. “Julie Weathersby. She would have been here a little more than a week ago. Traveling on her own. We were supposed to meet her at Volcanoes Park, but she never showed up.”
A flicker of something showed on the woman’s face, but she shook her head. “No. Haven’t seen her.”
“I’m Sophie. What’s your name?” Sophie was still trying to get a connection that Jake had already decided wasn’t going to happen. The woman didn’t answer. Sophie showed the phone again. “Maybe your friend has seen her?”
A rough masculine voice rumbled from behind the woman. “She told you we haven’t seen her. Buzz off.”
Sophie glanced at Jake. He gave a quick negative shake of the head. Maybe they could find out something more about these campers from the other park dwellers, or from sending a ranger to check the couple’s permits. He glanced at the tent pole. No permit.
Jake took his phone out, stepping away to call the park service.
They worked their way through the rest of the campsites, letting Sophie be the face of the operation while Jake kept an eye out and provided backup.
Sophie was letting Ginger stretch her legs by the river when a Hawaii State Park truck rumbled down the road to pull in beside the Jeep. Jake intercepted the green and white vehicle with its distinct logo.
“Hey there. I’m Jake Dunn, a private investigator with Security Solutions.” He held up his ID. “We’re looking for a missing person, and in the course of interviewing these campers, came across what might be some permit violations.”
The ranger slammed the door of his truck with a thump. “Oh yeah?” A mixed-race male of five-ten, approximately a hundred and seventy pounds, his ID badge read Hernandez. “Getting me out here to do your investigation for you, eh?”
Jake raised his brows innocently. “Just thought you’d want to know. There’s a couple over there that looks like they’re making this park their permanent home.” He gestured toward the riverside campsite with its assorted piles and bins. “Would you mind taking a look at a photo of our missing person? Maybe you’ve seen her.”
“Sure.” Hernandez squinted at the picture of the smiling young woman as Sophie put Ginger back in the Jeep and approached. She introduced herself, and Jake narrowed his eyes as Hernandez checked her out and clearly liked what he saw.
Jake glanced at Sophie, remembering meeting her for the first time.
Yeah, Sophie was hot—five-nine and one thirty-five, all muscle, bone and tender curves. That caramel skin, those gorgeous arms and legs with their secret tattoos . . . Her eyes. That sexy scar. The weird way she seemed both badass and vulnerable. And her voice! That accent. It slayed him.
Even in a pair of hiking pants and a tank top that had seen better days, she was unusual and stunning.
Would this be his life with her if they ever got together? Every man they met checking her out, wishing for the impossible?
If so, worth it. He could deal.
Jake reached for the phone and took it back from the ranger. “So, you haven’t seen Julie Weathersby? Not just here, but at any park? We heard from her parents that she was camping on the Big Island for a week or two before she disappeared.”
Hernandez shook his head. “Nope. We’ve had a lot of missing persons on the Big Island this year. Doesn’t surprise me some folks are hiring private eyes to supplement the police. Police department is pretty overwhelmed. Park Service is stretched thin.” The man folded his lips together suddenly, as if regretting saying so much. He brandished a metal clipboard holding citations. “Could you stay back here and let me do my job?”
“Of course.” Jake nodded respectfully. He needed this guy on his side. Hernandez headed for the hostile couple’s campsite, and Jake’s hand fell to his weapon, just resting there. Waiting.
Chapter Seven
Sophie watched Ranger Hernandez approach the tent containing the illegal campers. The two reluctantly emerged at his direction, but they were too far away for Sophie to hear.
The couple were poorly groomed. They held themselves in defensive postures with folded arms and sulky stares as the Ranger lectured them, obviously directing that they break down their camp and move along. Sophie wondered if he were allowed to conduct a search, and surmised not, as Hernandez pointed at the tent, and they shook their heads. Finally, Hernandez returned in their direction as the couple began packing their belongings.
“Where will they go?” Sophie asked the ranger. “Is there a shelter that will take them in?”
“There are a couple of places in Hilo, but I suspect they will just go somewhere else and squat. There are a lot of encampments on private land here on the island where the homeless congregate.”
�
��Kinda seems like a problem.” Jake had his arms folded in an unconscious imitation of the campers. “Is there another park toward Waimea? Our client’s parents said Julie camped somewhere on the Kona side, but she never told them the name of it.”
“There are a number of places. East Point is one of the most popular.” Hernandez described a park near a lighthouse on a bay that faced Maui. “It’s got a good beach, snorkeling. Tourists on foot seem to like it.”
Sophie felt compelled to defend the choice to camp. “I am enjoying my own backpacking and camping trip. It’s a great way to really see and experience the island.”
Hernandez nodded, his eyes softening. “I can recommend the top five places on this island to hike,” he said. “Some of them you won’t find in any guidebook. Let me write down the details for you.”
Sophie followed him over to the hood of his truck. The ranger removed a blank piece of paper and made a list of destinations for her to explore, including whether or not they had facilities.
Jake paced up and down behind her. She could feel his restlessness, and the way he kept an eye on the campers as they continued to break down their area.
Eventually Hernandez continued around the park checking everyone’s permits, and Sophie and Jake got back into the Jeep. Jake looked up at the overcast sky, already beginning to darken to the west. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some food, a shower, and that aforementioned soft bed.”
Sophie’s belly gave a grumble of agreement. “I guess we could head in that direction, and see what we find.”
They drove into the town of Waimea and had an early dinner at a burger joint featuring a specialty of the ranching area, local grass-fed beef. Jake was a rapid and efficient eater, consuming his burger in about four bites. Sophie ate hers much more deliberately.
Jake gestured to her with a fry. “You need more meat on your bones. You’re getting skinny, Sophie.”
“I know.” Stress over recent events, combined with haphazard packing and nutrition on the camping trip she’d finished in Kalalau, had not helped. “Marcella said the same thing. Some people eat when they are stressed. I work out.”
Jake’s blue-and-silver gaze pierced her. “You’re not in danger any longer. Assan Ang is in the ground.” He pushed the big basket of fries toward her. “Eat all of the rest of these.”
She did, and enjoyed his story of a river raft trip on the Congo to deliver needed supplies to an outpost there. She tipped her head back, laughing at the details of his encounter with a hippo.
“Don’t laugh,” Jake admonished. “Hippos are bigger killers than crocodiles, even. They top the charts ahead of wildcats and piranhas.”
Sophie shook her head. “I did not know that. I would like to see a hippo someday.”
“No, you wouldn’t. They have awful breath.”
Soon they were checked in to the hotel with a pineapple theme on the edge of the quaint town of Waimea. Jake got them two rooms and put the accommodations on his Security Solutions credit card. Lathering up in the shower, and later, washing Ginger’s muddy coat in the same space, Sophie had to admit that Jake had been right. There was nothing quite like a hot shower—and now she had a soft bed to look forward to.
A knock came at the door when she was on that bed, dressed in her favorite lightweight, yet warm, leggings and vest-style top that doubled as a cold weather outfit. Ginger, on the bed beside her, lunged off and gave a happy greeting bark as she ran to the door.
“Hello? Sophie?” Jake’s voice.
Her heart hammered. What was he doing here? She and Jake alone in a hotel room after dark seemed like a profoundly bad idea. She undid the bolt and chain and peered around the jamb. “What is it, Jake?”
“I come bearing an opportunity to log business hours and a nightcap.” Jake held up a laptop and a bottle of some sort of alcohol. “May I come in?”
“For the business hours. Not for the nightcap.” Sophie held the door open and he stepped inside.
Lemony aftershave and the smell of clean skin hit her nostrils as he passed. The hairs on her arms stood up and her nipples tightened. The room suddenly seemed too small because, son of a cockroach! Jake took up a lot of space leaving nowhere to sit but on the queen-sized bed with its exuberant display of pineapples in a repeating pattern.
Sophie drew pineapple-patterned drapes closed as Jake sat on the bed and booted up the laptop. She spotted a single side chair resting against the wall and perched on it. Jake held up the bottle and waggled it. “Best I could do at the corner store. How do you feel about amaretto?”
“I love amaretto.” Sophie’s mouth watered thinking of the taste of the almond flavored, sweet liqueur. “I guess I will have some, after all.”
“I’ve been stealthily studying Sophie Ang’s favorite things.” Jake winked and pointed to the pair of sterilized water glasses wearing little ruffled tops that rested on the sideboard next to the coffee maker. “Nothing beats a good drink at the end of a productive day.”
Sophie fetched the glasses and he splashed a couple fingers’ worth of dark amber liquid into each. “Cheers.” They clinked glasses. Sophie swirled the alcohol and closed her eyes, inhaling the almond scent, before she sipped. She so seldom drank. She would have to be careful. This situation was a set up.
“So. I am writing up notes from today and thought we could check the details.” Jake’s big fingers typed rapidly on the slim silver laptop. “I’ll begin with our meeting at the station, leaving Detective Freitan’s harassment out of it.”
Sophie’s skin prickled, remembering the uncomfortable scene at the station. She sipped her drink, savoring the delicious taste and the ball of heat it ignited in her belly.
“I’m more interested in finding out what happened with the Marshals and the body dump I discovered. I wonder if Freitan and Wong would give me any information if I called them.” She tightened her lips. She didn’t need to call them. She could use DAVID to hack the case file and see for herself.
DAVID, her rogue data mining program, was designed to penetrate law enforcement databases and collect and search data based on keywords, then use a comparison algorithm to test hypotheses. She could ask DAVID if there was a pattern connecting the family’s shooting with any other killings . . .
“Let’s not get into that kettle of fish—Hilo PD working with WITSEC on a quintuple homicide has no room for private agencies getting nosy. Instead, why don’t you use that laptop of yours to look for our girl online?”
“DAVID needs secure bandwidth to be used safely. What I mean is, the wide open Wi-Fi signal at this motel is not a place I’d like to use it. The program has firewalls, of course, but anyone in range of this signal could pick up some of the highly confidential data DAVID might access. I only like to use it when I have a cable uplink in a secure location.” But still, her fingers itched to input all the information about their missing girl. She went to her backpack and dug out her waterproof, satellite-capable laptop. “Even if I set up a secure hotspot with my sat phone, the data is vulnerable.”
“Look around you, Soph.” Jake gestured to the hideous décor. “We’re in Hawaii cattle country in a small town in the middle of the Pacific. What high tech cyber thief is going to be driving around Waimea with an antenna out, trying to steal data?”
“You never know,” Sophie said darkly. Because you never did know. People wanted DAVID and might be tracking it, and there was one particular Ghost that was . . . not an enemy, but no doubt watching her every move.
Chapter Eight
“Come on, Sophie, take a chance.”
Don’t just take a chance by using the DAVID program—take a chance on him. Jake willed Sophie to understand his double meaning. She glanced up, her golden-brown eyes a little surprised. It almost seemed as if she understood him; but he’d been wrong before.
“All right.” She opened the laptop. “Where is the client information?”
Jake passed her the file containing all of the relevant data on their client su
bmitted by the parents. Sophie had her program open, and began inputting. Her long tan fingers flew, her eyes flicking rapidly back and forth between the files’ contents and the screen of the computer that she was logging data into. Her ability to submerge into the cyber world was amazing. While he appreciated the function of that world, he’d never found it absorbing. He was a man of the outdoors, most at home doing something physical, and he made no apologies.
Jake sipped his amaretto. God, he hated the syrupy stuff, but he’d taken notice of what she liked; a good operative always knew everything about his objective. She liked Blue Hawaiians, too, and those frothy tourist concoctions made amaretto seem like hard alcohol.
Sophie drank a certain kind of tea, smoky and dark, from Thailand. She suffered from depression that could drag her down for days. She loved her dog. She slept in the buff.
Jake’s mind stuttered on that one. He’d overheard Marcella teasing Sophie about her private nudity habits, and had never been able to forget it. His gaze flicked over Sophie’s form, hidden in a body-concealing loose top and leggings. Ugh. He hated those clothes, too.
Whiskey, neat. And Sophie naked in bed. Now that would be a better evening.
“If you aren’t careful, we’ll devolve into actual working.” Jake handed Sophie her glass of amaretto after he topped it up a bit. “Medicinal purposes. We’ve had a long day.”
Sophie took it without looking at him and sipped. “That is certainly true.” She was barely paying any attention. Good. If he could just maneuver her into position . . .
Jake leaned against the headboard and patted the comforter beside him. “Come over here. You need back support.”
Sophie moved onto the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard, her eyes never leaving the screen of the laptop on her knees. She trusted him, and that gave him such a good feeling. She saw him clearly, knew he would cheat, lie, steal, and fight dirty to get what he wanted, and she still trusted him. Kinda made him wish he was a better man. Maybe he could be a better man, for her. Anything was possible—but tonight he was bent on seduction.
