by Toby Neal
“Yeah. Don’t worry, I don’t go commando,” Jake murmured. “Thanks, Felicia. You rock.” Jake shut his eyes as she removed his wallet and weapon, unbuckled his belt, and helped him slide the pants, cut off above the knees, all the way off of him. The hospital had allowed him to wear the gown covering his upper torso out of the building, and Felicia removed that, too. She lifted his foot, encased in a structured boot, up onto the bed and tilted him back until his head hit the pillow.
“You going to be okay? I’m going to take the dogs out for a walk and then go get that stuff you need.” Felicia’s voice came from far above Jake, but he didn’t open his eyes. He was just too tired to speak, and then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Day Five
Kaua`i had such a different feeling about it from the Big Island.
Sophie gazed out at the ocean from her little fourth-floor deck at the Hanalei Bay Resort. Surfers were clearly visible. A fresh wind stirred the palms and a nearby banyan tree; mynahs hopped on the mowed grass below the unit.
But there the resemblance to her ocean vista in Hilo ended. The view this resort faced was breathtaking, a triptych of rugged mountains and iconic headland. Active with wind and waves, Hanalei Bay was completely different from Hilo’s sheltered calm. The ocean was bright blue and turquoise, dappled with greenish-brown reef, and surfers worked the right-hand break across from the river mouth.
Sophie closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, then went into her morning routine of sun salutations. Nausea plucked at the back of her throat, but she breathed through it, trying not to think of the upcoming meeting at Alika’s house in Princeville, an exclusive ridge community above Hanalei Valley.
Showered, dressed, even wearing a little makeup, Sophie was soon on the road in a yellow Chevrolet rental to Alika’s address. Her Mary Watson identity had felt like the right look to wear. She liked the swishy skirt and cream silk blouse that left her arms bare—cool and comfortable. Sophie felt pretty.
And after a brief, violent vomiting episode following her yoga practice, Sophie badly needed to feel pretty.
She battled a sense of déjà vu as she drove down a winding avenue to park in front of a mansion built of sienna-colored stonework, with a cobalt-blue ceramic tile roof that gleamed in the sun. This was the house and grounds she’d seen in a dream, flying over it in Alika’s helicopter!
But she could swear she’d never seen even a photograph of it before. How very strange.
The hairs on Sophie’s arms rose as she looked around at gracious, full-sized palm plantings that were still finding their roots with the aid of bamboo trellising. Beyond the house’s bluff view, the swooping patchwork of taro fields and a sinuous green river down in the valley was set off by three peaked mountains.
A closed four-car garage gave no indication whether or not Alika was home, and Sophie wiped sweaty hands on her skirt as she got out of the car. She approached teak double doors with huge brass scrollwork handles and stood for a long moment on the flagstone step, her finger poised above the doorbell’s button as she dug deep for the courage to ring it.
Before she could do so, the door swung open.
Esther Ka`awai gazed up into Sophie’s surprised face. Alika’s grandmother wore a casual house muumuu in floral fabric. Her long hair was down, a curtain of black and silver hanging to her hips. Her weathered brown face broke into a bright smile. “Sophie! I thought you might be visiting. It is so good to see you again.”
Surprise and deep humiliation locked up Sophie’s muscles, but her frozen posture didn’t stop Esther from embracing her stiff body. “I am glad you finally came to see Alika. He is healing well but seeing you will no doubt speed things further.”
Sophie ducked her head. “I am so ashamed that I never visited him in the hospital. I felt so guilty.”
Esther patted her shoulder. “It’s not me you have to apologize to. Besides, you are here now to make up for it.” She held Sophie at arm’s length. “I hear good things about your investigation into the disappearance of the Merrie Monarch funds. My haumana, Kim Kauwa, my student, speaks highly of your agency and your work.”
Sophie nodded, relieved to be moving away from personal topics. “Yes. In fact, I left detailed information for an update for Kim and the Tourism Authority Board with Jake, my partner. But if you would like to hear some of that in person, I’d be happy to update you.”
“No, no. Now is not the time.” Esther pushed one side of the huge door wide. “E komo mai! Welcome. Make yourself at home, and I’ll let Alika know you are here.”
“Tutu.” Alika’s voice came from the other side of his grandmother. “I don’t need you to be my butler.”
“No such thing, mo’opuna. I know you were doing your exercises, and I wanted to say hello to Sophie myself.” Esther’s warmth, as she squeezed Sophie’s arm, nearly brought tears so Sophie’s eyes. The older woman left them standing facing each other.
Sophie assessed Alika. He had lost a good deal of weight since the bomb attack at Sophie’s father’s building, and his bold cheekbones stood out in sharp relief. He was paler and reduced in size from his usual muscularity, but he stood straight, brown eyes calm and steady. Sophie finally allowed her gaze to rest on what was left of his arm.
Severed above the elbow, the left side of him seemed unbalanced, asymmetrical. The stump was still wrapped in some sort of bandage. Sophie felt nausea roll through her belly.
Alika opened his arms in a welcoming gesture, and the movement of his damaged shoulder was as easy and natural as it had always been. Her mind almost filled in the missing limb as he stepped forward to embrace her, though his expression remained serious. “Good to see you, Sophie. I’m glad you came.”
Once again, Sophie was rigid. One hand came up to pat Alika’s back as he continued to hold her lightly but firmly, not crushing her close or taking any further liberties.
“I’m so sorry, Alika,” she said against his shirt. “I should have visited you in the hospital. I should have been there for you.”
He shook his head. “It is what it is.”
Sophie gradually relaxed. Her face was pressed against the shoulder of his mutilated arm.
Memories of the bomb’s explosion swamped her. He’d looked so magnificent standing in the doorway of the elevator, that fateful box tucked against his side. She blinked away more tears. “I let you down.”
“It’s okay. I was bummed, but not surprised you didn’t want to see me. I know you, girl, and I knew you’d feel bad.” He let go and stepped back, gesturing towards an open seating area done in refined bent bamboo furniture covered in Hawaiian print fabric. “Come, have a seat. As you can see, I’m just fine. I appreciate your coming all this way, though, just to tell me that.”
“That was the first, and most important thing I came to say. But there is something else.” Sophie gazed around the gracious room with its huge window that showcased the magnificent mountainscape of Hanalei. “This place is so beautiful.”
“Thanks. I have a good architect,” he grinned.
They seated themselves. Esther reappeared from the kitchen, carrying a small lacquered tray with a couple of glasses of yellow juice resting on it. Ice cubes clinked gently in the glasses, and Sophie could smell the tangy-sweet scent of passion fruit as Esther set down the tray. “Made this lilikoi juice myself this morning.”
Sophie picked up her glass and sipped to swallow the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Mrs. Ka`awai. It’s delicious.”
“Esther, please. And now I’ve got a few more chores to do around here.”
“Thanks, Tutu.” Alika gestured toward the tray with his stump. “I’m adjusting to doing a lot of things one-handed. Balancing a tray with full glasses on it is a little out of my current skill set, but I’ll get there eventually.”
Sophie had expected him to be at least a little bitter, but there was none of that in his expression or demeanor as he picked up his glass. Esther left the room, and he smiled at Sophie over
the rim. “Tutu has elected herself to be my chief cook and bottle washer. Who am I to argue, when she does it so well?”
“Men. You all just like to be taken care of,” Sophie said, a ghost of a smile tugging at her own lips. She looked away, out the window of the great room. “I love your home.”
“Thanks. Let me show you what I did with the koa wood I picked up on the Big Island when we saw each other last.” He stood up. “It’s in the kitchen.”
Sophie followed Alika into the open, modern space with its granite counters, steel sinks, and wraparound windows. A banquette filled one corner, and the wood of that table gleamed with the unique iridescence of native Hawaiian hardwood. “I love it.”
“I had cabinets made, too.” He gestured to the storage areas above a large, shining range. “There was just enough wood for three kitchens like this.”
Sophie admired the sleek design with its small brass canoes as hardware. “Really unique. It’s hard to believe this came from those logs I saw in the back of your truck.”
“There were many steps between the logs and what you see here. But I have a good crew.”
Sophie wiped her hands on her skirt again, realizing as she did so that, though she was nervous about her news, the feelings she’d had for Alika, prior to the bomb attack, were gone. Any romantic interest she’d had in him must have been quenched by the guilt and worry she’d been carrying—and by her deepening involvement with Jake. Somehow that realization made it easier to face Alika head-on and look directly into his warm brown eyes.
“I came to see you, to apologize for how I acted when you were injured. But also, to tell you that I’m pregnant.”
Alika’s brows flew up and his eyes widened. “What?”
“Yes. We…didn’t use anything that night. There’s a chance…”
“I wondered, afterward…”
They both stared at the parquet squares of the kitchen floor.
“I’m seven or eight weeks along, I think.” Sophie twisted her fingers together. “Will you take a paternity test? With Jake? So we can determine who the father is.”
Alika looked away and his throat worked. “I figured you had moved on. I have too. For all our sakes, I hope this isn’t my child.”
Sophie swallowed, surprised at how much his words hurt even though she understood perfectly what he meant. “You don’t have to do anything, regardless. I’m not asking you to take the test because I’m looking for help or support.”
Alika turned back and his eyes blazed. “You think I’d abandon my responsibility to my own flesh and blood—my ohana? I thought you knew me.”
Sophie wound her fingers together even tighter. “I meant no insult.”
They stared at each other in tense silence.
Alika looked out the window and gave a deep sigh. “Of course, I’ll take the test. And we’ll all deal with whatever the results are.”
“I don’t expect you to understand, but I am happy I am pregnant. I thought I could never be a mother.” She blinked stinging eyes.
Alika reached out and caught one of her hands. “Don’t leave like this. We can be friends, at least. We were friends for years, and we might be parenting together.”
“We don’t know that,” Sophie argued. “And I don’t know where to go from here, in a manner of speaking.”
“Me neither. But let me start by showing you around the whole house. I’ve got an idea where you and the baby could stay, when you visit.”
“You’re extrapolating excessively,” Sophie protested, but let herself be led toward a wide staircase ascending to a second floor.
“I hope you’ll plan on visiting, regardless.” Alika squeezed her hand as they climbed the stairs. “In fact, I’d like to count on it. Just know you’ll always have a soft spot to land if you need it. No matter what.”
“Thanks,” Sophie murmured. As awkward as the situation was, she felt better for his words, and for resolving so much so quickly. “I appreciate that.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Seated in the office area on the jet, Connor ended the call from Felicia, frowning down at his phone. Jake had been shot? Who could be trying to take out one of his best operatives from a sniper position? The situation reminded him too much of Sophie’s recent case when a contract killer had been after her.
The shooter had to be Akane Chang. Chang had no love for either Jake or Sophie.
Connor looked back down at his phone and scrolled to the text he had received from Sophie declining his help in getting to Kaua`i. Good. She’d be safe there, out of the way of this latest threat.
He should probably go check on Jake, but the man was likely out of commission for a while. The Ghost’s time would be best spent trying to track the shooter, and all he needed was a computer for that.
Connor sat down and fired up his laptop. He hacked into a grid of surveillance cameras around the office building for Security Solutions in downtown Hilo. None of the feeds covered the particular area in which Jake’s shooting had taken place, but by scrolling through one of the traffic camera backups, he was able to spot a man exiting the building across the street in the appropriate time frame.
The subject was close to six feet tall, wearing bulky, nondescript sweats, and carried a rifle-sized duffel bag over one shoulder. He wore a University of Hawaii Warriors ball cap, pulled low. His skin was medium dark in the black-and-white video.
The suspect got into a black Toyota 4Runner SUV parked on the corner. Connor paused the feed and magnified the license plate number.
Another quick hack, and he was into the Hawaii State vehicle registration site. He ran the number and came up with a car reported stolen of a completely different make. The plates had been changed.
This was Jake’s shooter, for sure, but Connor had no useful information to pass on to authorities except that the man was roughly the same dimensions and race as Akane Chang, and was smart enough to have swapped the plates on what was likely a stolen vehicle.
Connor paced around, frustrated and worried. He missed his home in Thailand: the long, empty beaches of his island, Phi Ni, on which to run. He missed the company of his dog, Anubis, and the help and presence of his houseman, Nam. His home truly was his castle, and this enclosed container, parked on the hot tarmac of the Hilo airport, was far from ideal. Connor got up and went to the gym area that was a part of his office on the jet. He went through a routine on the Bowflex machine for a vigorous twenty minutes, getting blood flowing to his brain and extremities.
He was stalled on dealing with the shooter, but was sure it was Akane beginning the revenge spree that the man had sworn to complete in the courtroom a few short weeks ago.
The Ghost did have one unconventional weapon in his battle against the serial killer.
Done with his brief workout, Connor thumbed through his phone contacts. He sent Pim Wat a text that Akane was in Hilo and looking to make another attempt on Sophie’s life via the Security Solutions office building.
It couldn’t hurt to give her mother intel that was in their mutual interest—keep his pet assassin on alert and ready to move. He was doing his best to engineer a showdown between Akane and Pim Wat; such killings were the Ghost’s trademark, and they took careful engineering.
Connor smiled at the likelihood that the two would cancel each other out when they finally met. He’d spent hours imagining and orchestrating variations on that scenario. And if only one of them was the victor? That too was acceptable. Only one of his and Sophie’s enemies would then remain alive to deal with, fifty percent less hassle.
Because whatever else she was, Pim Wat was also their enemy.
He slid his phone into his pocket and poured a glass of filtered water, drinking it at the sink, mentally probing for weaknesses in his plans.
As soon as Sophie heard that Jake was injured, she’d want to come back to Hilo to take care of him.
Connor had to keep Sophie out of danger until Akane, and hopefully Pim Wat, were dealt with.
He spee
d dialed another number. “Thom, can you return to the jet? I need to go to Kaua`i, ASAP.”
Connor stood at the foot of the stairs of the jet, the waning light of evening slanting across the tarmac of the Lihue Airport on Kaua`i, as Sophie strode toward him. He admired the feline power of her stride contrasting with the feminine, fluttery skirt of her Mary Watson dress.
Sophie was frowning when she reached him, all but vibrating with distress, but she allowed Connor to embrace her in a brief hug. “Thanks so much for coming to fetch me. I can’t believe someone shot Jake! I have to get back and see how he is doing.”
“About that.” Instead of ascending the jet’s stairs, Connor turned her back toward the terminal. “We aren’t going to the Big Island. I want you to stay here on Kaua`i for a few days. I’ve reserved a room for you at a very nice condo in Kalapaki Beach under your Mary Watson identity.”
Sophie dug in her heels. “What? No. Jake needs me!”
“He does not. He’s a big boy.” Connor gritted his teeth, but made an effort to speak persuasively. “Felicia’s looking after him, and it’s just a flesh wound to his calf. Way more worrisome is that we both think the shooter was Akane, and he wants to kill you even more than he wants Jake.”
“You don’t understand. I have to get back to him.” Sophie brushed past Connor and stomped up the stairs into the jet as if she could order Thom to take her back to the Big Island without him. Connor shook his head, following her up into the plane.
Sure enough, Sophie was arguing with his pilot, hands on her hips, voice raised. “We need to get back to the Big Island, Thom. It’s urgent.”
“I’m sorry, Sophie, that’s not the flight plan Mr. Hamilton has filed.” Thom Tang was a brave man, but today the Thai pilot looked a little terrified as he turned to Connor in blatant relief and appeal. “Here’s Mr. Hamilton now. He can tell you.” Thom scuttled into the cockpit and they both heard the distinct sound of the cockpit door locking.
