Paradise Crime Thrillers Box Set

by Toby Neal

  She had to deliver the news about the baby’s parentage in person—and she had to tell Jake what she should have told him a while ago: somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with him.

  She missed him. Wanted to be with him.

  And she hoped like hell he hadn’t already moved on with the pretty, smart, unencumbered Felicia.

  Sophie looked around the park as she slid her phone into her pocket. Old men and young children were fishing off the jetty. Mynah birds hopped on the smooth grass, and palm trees swished overhead. The dogs had curled up, snuggled against each other, tired of waiting for her to get off the phone. She stood up and tweaked their leashes. “Let’s go.”

  Sophie walked along the curving concrete pathway this time, too full from the large breakfast for running. She tipped her face back, enjoying the sunshine.

  Relief that she and Alika were in accord filled her with well-being. It was so sweet that he’d proposed for the baby’s sake; he was that kind of man, and his excitement about the baby was a huge load off her shoulders. Whatever happened with Jake, between Connor and Alika, she’d have all the support she’d need in the coming months.

  What was Connor going to think of this latest development?

  Sophie paused, leaning against a palm tree, and texted him. “Got the results back from the clinic. Alika is the baby’s father. I talked with him via phone and he is happy about it and plans to be involved.” She paused, nibbling on her lip. “We both agree we are not getting together romantically. But I am going to try to reconcile with Jake.” Again, she paused, imagining Connor’s face as he read the messages, the blow to hopes he’d never verbalized. “I appreciate all you’ve done, and I hope our friendship will continue, unchanged.”

  That certainly put it out there, and it was a measure of how much things had improved between them that she hated to hurt Connor like this—but it was better just to tell him. The pregnancy already took most of her internal and external energy.

  She slid her phone back into her pocket and this time moved into a gentle jog, the dogs on either side of her.

  Sophie reached the edge of the park and the busy thoroughfare lined with Hilo’s downtown shops. She crossed that major artery and continued along it toward her apartment building, suddenly exhausted from all the emotion and the heavy meal. Her body was shutting down, telling her it needed a nap.

  Things were so much different in her body now. The voice of the depression was a muted, distant whisper, while the little one inside clamored for its needs to be met.

  She’d almost reached her apartment building, could even see its nearby cool cinderblock cube under the banyan tree, when a female voice called her name. “Sophie Ang.”

  Sophie turned her head.

  Penny Chang stood beside a big green dumpster in an alley directly opposite her. The short, plump PR agent wore a fitted knee-length muumuu, rhinestone-studded sandals, a hibiscus in her sleek updo—and had a silenced pistol pointed at Sophie.

  Penny still reminded Sophie of a sweet female Buddha. The gun seemed cartoonlike, a “one of these things does not belong” element from a child’s illustration in a magazine Sophie had seen in a doctor’s office.

  “What do you want?” Sophie let go of the dogs’ leashes, hoping the two would realize something was amiss—but they saw no threat in the woman Sophie was speaking to. The Lab and the pit bull galloped away with home in sight.

  “I want a little payback for the way you screwed me and my cousin over.” Penny gestured with the pistol. “Come closer. Into the alley.”

  “So you can shoot me out of sight?” Sophie was too far from the woman to mount any kind of attack, and she hadn’t brought her own weapon. She’d thought she was safe.

  But she was never safe. Bitterness tightened her throat.

  “I can shoot you from here, just fine,” Penny said. “But I’d like to talk to you, first.”

  Sophie’s gaze flicked to the side. The dogs had reached the apartment building and were running up the exterior stairs. They were headed for Jake’s place! Maybe he was there, maybe they could get his attention…

  She had to buy time. “Tell me why you’re doing this.”

  “Because I’m being investigated for embezzling funds from the Merrie Monarch Festival. You and your partner pretended to be customers and fingered me! Did you think I didn’t recognize you from the news as the witness against Akane? And now, you shot my cousin.” Penny took a step closer. The black bore of her pistol seemed to expand in Sophie’s visual field.

  “Killing me doesn’t accomplish anything.”

  “It accomplishes me feeling better about all the shit that’s gone down.” Penny took another step toward Sophie. The woman’s hand was steady, her gaze unwavering. She was going to shoot Sophie; she just wanted a little privacy to do it.

  Sophie raised her hands so that anyone watching could see that she was in trouble. “I refuse to make it easy for you.” She took a step backward.

  “Oh yeah, you will, or I’ll shoot you in the gut and you can die slowly, right here.”

  The baby would die first.

  If only she could slow things down. Every moment of life was a moment of opportunity, a moment for things to change. She’d learned that out on the lava when she wrestled with death and came out the victor.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I guess I’ll die right here in public, then.” Sophie dropped to her knees and put her hands on her head. Her eyes felt hot and her gaze filled with power as she cursed Penny with the only weapon she had: her words. “I’m pregnant. May my child haunt you forever. May your dreams be filled with screams and your womb be cursed, barren, and a source of death. Foul daughter of the devil!”

  A flicker of something showed in Penny’s face for the first time—disgust? Regret? Fear? The woman had obviously never killed before. She was having to work up to it, and her mouth flattened into a line of determination. “I don’t give a shit what you say.”

  Penny was close enough now that Sophie could see the woman’s finger tightening on the trigger.

  Sophie shut her eyes—and a blow from the side slammed her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her.

  The thunder of gunfire overhead caused Sophie to draw in her knees and curl her arms over her head, trying to shield herself—but another body was already on top of her, protecting her.

  The barrage stopped.

  Even through the odor of gunshot residue, Sophie recognized Jake’s unique scent and the heft and feel of his body on hers—but the heavy form on top of her didn’t move.

  “Jake!” Sophie screamed his name but couldn’t hear it through the ringing of her ears, deafened by the gunshots. She wriggled out from under his body, scanning to see if Penny was still a threat—but the woman was crumpled on the ground, her pistol still in her hand. Sophie ran over and kicked the weapon away, then returned to crouch over Jake’s still form.

  Blood poured down his face, obscuring it. His arm was extended, his weapon fallen from an unresponsive hand.

  “Jake! Jake, no!” Sophie dropped to the ground and drew his head into her lap, heedless of the blood, and wept.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Hot copper smell.

  Pounding in his head, like waves. Surf swishing through his brain, erasing thought, memory, self.

  Sobbing.

  Loud, wretched sobbing, like someone had run over a puppy. Something bad had happened.

  Sorrow suffused him.

  Jake wished he could make the crying stop. Life hurt a lot, and no one told you that when you were a kid.

  His head was pillowed on something soft—a lap.

  A firm thigh under his cheek, arms around his shoulders. There were even breasts nearby, brushing him occasionally.

  “Heaven.” He rubbed his face back and forth in the softness touching him. He dragged the logy weights of his arms up to encircle the thighs, buttocks and waist of the angel greeting him on the other side.

  The crying stopped.
>
  “Jake?” His angel was Sophie. She was wiping at his face with her shirt, crying again but in a happy way, and kissing him, little pecks that felt like raindrops. “I thought you were dead. I thought she shot you.”

  “Not heaven?” Vague disappointment. However, waking up with his face nuzzled into the crotch of the woman he loved suited Jake’s idea of paradise just fine.

  “Not yet. Not for a long time.” Sophie’s voice shook with fervor.

  The sound of sirens. Voices. Hands. Moving. Jake groaned. His eyes were shut with something sticky—blood. He couldn’t get them open, couldn’t see.

  “You’re gonna be fine, Mr. Dunn. Bullet grazed your skull. Head wounds bleed a lot. Just relax.”

  “Sophie?” He needed his angel. She had to stay with him. “Sophie!”

  “I’m here, Jake. I’ll ride with you.” She squeezed his fingers, hard.

  Memories flashed as they lifted him onto something soft and rolled him forward.

  He’d been agonizing over Sophie’s text, deciding what it meant, what he would do, how to talk to her. The dogs, suddenly scratching and yelping outside his apartment.

  Opening the door. Something was wrong—where was Sophie?

  Looking straight across the street at Sophie. She was talking to someone in the alley that he couldn’t see. She raised her hands slowly. Someone had her at gunpoint.

  Jake didn’t have to fetch his weapon because it was always on him. He must have run and jumped down three flights of stairs and crossed the road, but he didn’t remember that.

  The next memory was Sophie, ahead of him on the sidewalk. She’d dropped to her knees. Her hands were on her head, and she was cursing in Thai.

  He flew through the air, slamming into her body, flattening her beneath him, already firing into the alley.

  Firing blind at whoever was there.

  More lifting. The rattle of wheels, the clang of metal, voices overhead. But Sophie was still holding his hand. That was important.

  Something else was important. Something… “The baby?”

  “The baby’s fine. I’m fine. You saved us.”

  “Good.” Jake relaxed. Darkness swallowed him up.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Sophie woke to the rustle and squeak of the nurse’s shoes on the floor as she moved around Jake, checking his vitals. The hospital room was dim and cool, lit solely by LED lighting on the floor and the various beeping monitors.

  Jake was still in a medically induced coma. “Your boyfriend has a hard head,” the brain surgeon on duty had told her after assessing Jake’s injury. “But even hard heads can get too much pressure inside, and that bullet creased him good. We’ll keep him knocked out a while until the swelling has a chance to go down. He’s a very lucky man.”

  And Sophie was a very lucky woman. There was no doubt he’d saved her and her baby’s life, without a thought to his own safety.

  Sophie had fallen asleep on the chair in the corner of the room, a chair with a handy pullout for her feet. Someone had covered her with a blue polyester blanket during the night, and she was grateful for its warmth, tugging the covering tight around her as she scooted the chair closer to Jake. She leaned against his bed and rested her cheek on his hand, longing for him to be awake, to touch her with that hand.

  She was thankful for the quiet, for the privacy restriction of the unit Jake was in. She’d been stuck in the waiting room for hours while Jake was assessed and stabilized.

  Felicia had brought in a bag containing a change of clothing and toiletries for each of them. “I hope he’s okay,” Felicia had said, handing over the duffel. “I’ll take care of the dogs for you, and I’ve already called Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Bix and let them know what happened.”

  Sophie had been so focused on Jake she hadn’t paid attention to the EMTs working on the woman who’d created the situation in the first place. “Penny Chang?”

  Felicia shook her head. “She didn’t make it.”

  Sophie felt nothing but relief. “Thanks, Felicia. You’re the best.”

  “I just…hope Jake is all right.” The young woman raised shining eyes to Sophie. Her feelings were obvious. “He’s such a great guy.”

  “Yes, he is. And I intend to make sure he knows it,” Sophie said. “I’ll call you if we need anything else. Mahalo for holding down the fort, as they say.”

  “You’re welcome.” Felicia shifted from foot to foot. “So, you and Jake…”

  “We’re together, Felicia.” God, she hoped they were. Sophie held the girl’s eyes with a compassionate gaze. “I hope that won’t be a problem at the office.”

  Felicia straightened. “Nope. I get it.” She spun on a heel, and if she was crying as she hurried away down the hall, she had too much pride to let it show.

  Sophie picked up Jake’s hand in the darkened room. Unusual for it to be so relaxed, open. Jake was always in motion, those hands at work, at play, in use all the time. And it had been way too long since they’d touched her, held her, loved her—and she, him.

  Sophie traced the calluses at the base of Jake’s fingers, the thickened skin in the web of his thumb. All of the places a weapon touched.

  Each of the men she’d loved, and she could admit now that there had been three, had such different calluses—but this was the hand she chose, she wanted, she needed. She kissed the hardened skin. Her eyes closed, breathing him in.

  “My angel is still here.” Jake’s voice above Sophie was a hoarse croak.

  “Jake!” Sophie stood swiftly, checking the monitors.

  All of the beeping seemed normal. The doctor had told her he’d wake naturally when the swelling in his skull had gone down enough. She brought her gaze to Jake’s shadowed face, leaning over to kiss him gently. His lips felt like marble. She wanted to kiss them longer and warm them up. “I would have been an angel for sure if you hadn’t done what you did. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got shot in the head.” He groaned, raising the hand that wasn’t clutching hers to touch the thick bandage covering one side of his skull. “Feels like someone’s playing the bongos in there.”

  Sophie began to sit back down, but he sidled over in the bed and opened his arm. “Can you come up here?”

  “Of course.” Sophie’s pulse pounded with hope—he wanted her close! She climbed onto the bed, awkward with all of his monitors, tucking herself alongside him in a tight fit. They both emitted a sigh of contentment as she settled in. Sophie’s eyes drifted shut as Jake’s heat penetrated, melting her like wax into boneless contentment. He was always so warm.

  Long moments went by as their breathing fell into sync.

  “I have something to say.” Jake’s voice was more of a rumbling vibration than anything else, but Sophie tensed.

  “We can talk later. When you’re feeling better.” The news about Alika being the baby’s father felt like a weight on her chest.

  “No. I have to say this now.” Jake shifted her, groaned as his head was jostled, but persisted, positioning Sophie so that he could look into her face. “I’ve had time to think. About everything.”

  Sophie stiffened further. “Please. Let’s do this when you’re better. You should rest.”

  Jake’s eyes were caves of shadow; she wished she could see the expression in them. “I’ve had time to take a long, hard look at myself and my issues. And what I’ve decided is this: I don’t care who the baby’s father is. I love you. And I love the baby because it’s part of you.” Jake’s free hand slid around to cup her breast. “These are bigger, you know. I spotted that right away.”

  Relief swamped Sophie, but she was about to put his words to the test. She wriggled as his thumb found her sensitive nipple. “I have to tell you the news about the baby’s father.”

  “I guessed that was why you texted me. And I guessed it’s Alika’s baby, because you didn’t just tell me right off the bat.” He sounded matter-of-fact.

  “And still you took a bullet for me. For us.” Sophie pushed the butt
on on the bed that turned on the light. She had to see his face.

  “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Jake’s eyes were sunk in puffy lids, their silver color muted by the swelling distorting his face—but his gaze was unwavering, warm and loving on hers.

  “I wish the baby were yours,” she whispered.

  “It would have been nice.” Jake leaned forward to kiss her. “But it truly doesn’t matter.” His hand was still wandering, and now it rested gently on the grapefruit-sized hardness just beginning to reshape her abdomen. “This kid is going to have the best of both worlds—Alika’s awesome home and family, and you and me, too.”

  Tears slid down Sophie’s cheeks. “I love you. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was uncertain. Afraid. I’ve made so many mistakes.”

  “You know, my sister told me how to deal with a woman like you.” Jake snuggled Sophie closer, stroking her body from breast to hip, heating her up in spite of the hospital bed’s impedimenta. “She said not to be needy. To be so good you’d want to be with me.”

  “Your sister is a wise woman,” Sophie said, and kissed him.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The Edith Kanaka`ole Stadium seemed to vibrate from within like a giant drum, as the male dancers spun in perfect unison. The slap and thump of bare feet was emphasized by the percussion of ipu and chant, resonating in a silence held by the crowd, a bowl containing the performance. Skin gleamed over muscle and bone, and crisp, powerful movement gave an almost martial arts feel to the kane hula, the men’s stabbing motions of arms and hands warlike and riveting.

  Connor sat beside Sophie in the front row, his eyes recording the amazing sight of the Merrie Monarch competition in full swing, but his real attention was on the woman beside him.

  Sophie was holding Jake’s hand as he sat next to her. Both of their faces were turned up toward the stage, their eyes glued to the dancers, expressions rapt.

  The two were together again. Reconciled. The whole drama was resolving beautifully—except for him.