by Toby Neal
He continued to watch her and finally got out of his chair, sitting on the floor and assuming her posture. He synchronized his breathing with hers. He entered the same quiet peace she occupied.
When she finally stood up and walked back to her bedroom, his hard-on throbbed painfully. He made no move to deal with it. She wasn’t responsible for what she’d done to him, and he wasn’t going to sully thoughts of her with mere masturbation. He sighed with the loss as she went into the inner sanctum of her bedroom with that silly dog of hers, and total blackness stole his view of her.
“Good night, Sophie,” he whispered. He got up and went into his bathroom to take a cold shower.
Chapter Fifteen
Sophie woke the next morning with the cottony headache of an emotional hangover. She turned the lights on and threw off the covers. She never had gotten into her pajamas last night. Everything was too heavy and abrasive on her sensitized skin, even her silky sleep tee.
Ginger was on her bed again, and this time she patted the coverlet beside her and the lab crawled up beside her sheepishly. “I liked having you with me last night,” she murmured as she hugged the dog around her sturdy neck. “I needed someone cozy and hairy to snuggle with.”
Ginger thumped her tail in agreement with this plan.
“Okay, time to get moving. Got a lot of things to get done today.” She hopped out of bed, slipping into the discarded dragon robe. She keyed on her computers with the fob and while they booted up, she started the teapot and got in the shower.
The homey and routine tasks helped her wake up and get underway, shucking off the last of a bad night. She’d tossed and turned, tormented by fragmented, feverish dreams of Alika in his hospital bed, Alika being beaten, Alika being arrested for drug trafficking.
She set strong morning tea to steeping and called Lehua’s cell phone. The older woman picked up right away.
“Any change?” she asked after greetings.
“No. The doctor’s going to meet with us today after they do another follow up CAT scan of his brain,” the older woman said. Her voice sounded rough, snagging on the words.
“Please let me know what’s happening. I’ll come by today,” Sophie said.
“I will. Are you helping with his investigation?”
“Informally.” Sophie bit her lip. She hoped Lehua made no mention of that to Marcella or Marcus.
“Well, we’re doing our own thing to protect him as his ohana. We’ve put the word out in the Hawaiian community to ask for any information on who might have been a part of beating him. Not just that.” Lehua’s husky voice firmed. “Anyone who might be a part of this ridiculous drug trafficking scenario they’ve set him up for.”
“I hope it works,” Sophie said. “Can you call me after his CAT scan?”
“I’ll try.”
Sophie’s next call was to Ken Yamada, made from the kitchen as she sipped her tea.
“Glad you called me,” he said immediately. “HPD just notified me that they spotted Lee at the airport in the United area.”
“Did they catch him?” Sophie hurried to the bedroom now and began throwing on her FBI work clothes.
“I think he’s giving them a run for their money. Slippery little dude.”
“We should go help them. He’s going to be traveling under another identity and we at least know what he looks like. I’ll meet you at the airport.” Sophie grabbed her shoulder holster and Kevlar vest, standard for chasing a suspect in the field. “I called you because I found an apartment in the Arches building that Security Solutions rents. No lessee listed, but I want to go check it out and see who’s in there. I think I’ll call the VP first, see what they use it for, but I wanted you to know I plan to take a little field trip over there.”
“Okay, but later. We’re early enough to beat traffic and I’ll see you at the airport.”
Sophie threw some puppy pads down in the corner of the foyer and gave Ginger a pat.
“So sorry girl, I don’t have time to take you out. I’ll call the service and have them give you an extra long run.”
The dog’s soulful brown eyes were accusing as she shut the door and locked it, running to the stairs and getting some cardio on the way to the garage.
She parked in a loading aisle at the airport and put her FBI placard up in the window, hopping out of the vehicle and running into the departure area. She met Ken and they approached one of the TSA uniforms, showed badges, and asked to get access to the security headquarters. It wasn’t long before they were sitting in a cockpit-like area surrounded by monitors. Cameras pointed at all the key traffic flow points were filled with people moving to and fro.
“Do you have any facial recognition software?” Sophie asked. She had a photo of Lee on her phone taken the day he’d given them the tour of the facility at Security Solutions. She often used her phone camera to unobtrusively photograph the witnesses she met in the field, and had found this practice invaluable many times.
Now she faxed the photo via phone to the Homeland Security computer and got the facial recognition software up and running, her fingers flying.
She and Ken Yamada visually scanned the computers along with a Homeland officer holding Lee Chan’s employee mug shot. Finally, it was the facial recognition software that found the diminutive tech, lighting up one of the cameras with a ding.
Sophie recognized him once the software had identified him. He was definitely in disguise, wearing a fedora, a goatee, and had completely changed his style by dressing in a three-piece suit and carrying a shiny leather briefcase.
“Appears he’s waiting for United Flight 730,” the Homeland officer said. “I’ll radio the desk.”
“Don’t alert him that we’re onto him.” Sophie could see Lee’s anxiously darting eyes under the fedora. “Just delay the boarding of the plane. Agent Yamada and I will take him with some of your officers.”
The TSA man called for backup. Soon they were jogging through the long shiny halls and open concrete work bridges with gorgeous mature plumeria trees between the buildings that were trademarks of the Honolulu Airport.
Lee saw them coming and made a run for it, throwing his briefcase into a man who stumbled into their path. Adrenaline surged as Sophie yelled, “Stop! FBI!”
She bolted after Chan, Ken right behind, dodging screaming travelers who crashed into each other trying to get out of the way. Sophie hit him with her shoulder in the center of his back. Lee flew forward and crashed to the ground. She held him down with a knee, pulled up his arms and slapped cuffs on him. She leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I can’t wait to find out what’s really going on at Security Solutions. I’m on your side.”
He seemed startled, his eyes wide, but Ken and the TSA agents reached them, pushing back the staring crowds. Chan was frog-marched out to the curb by Ken. HPD had a secure vehicle, so he was driven to the FBI headquarters in the back of a Crown Victoria as Ken and Sophie followed.
They took custody of Chan from the police at the Prince Kuhio Federal Building. He’d been patted down and had his phone removed at the airport. They put him in Conference Room A, with its stark interior, steel bolted down table and chairs, and mirrored observation wall.
“I want my lawyer,” Lee said clearly, the minute they were in the room. “I know you’re recording me, and I want legal counsel.”
“We aren’t arresting you,” Ken said soothingly.
“I don’t care! You just heard me request legal representation.” He glanced at his watch. “I requested representation at 9:37 a.m.”
“Who can we get a hold of for you?” Ken asked.
“Bennie Fernandez.”
Sophie groaned inwardly. They all knew the Santa-like little defense lawyer. Charming, relentless, and deadly were adjectives that came to mind. “We’ll call him for you.”
She and Ken briefed Waxman, who’d come to watch the interview. They all waited in the observation room, a small side area equipped with audio and video monitors, until the defense law
yer showed up.
Bennie Fernandez played up his Santa appearance today in a red aloha shirt with green leis scattered over it. His pink-cheeked face trimmed in white beard was almost a caricature, but his shrewd blue eyes never warmed. “Where’s my client? I will need thirty minutes of confidential consult time.”
Ken took him into the conference room. Sophie, alone with Waxman, shut off the monitors. She sighed and chewed her lip, wondering what was happening with Alika and his case.
“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” Waxman said. “I received your presentation and skimmed it. I’d like a little more on how DAVID is able to penetrate law enforcement databases and read-only through their files. I think that’s one of the biggest concerns Headquarters has. Can the files be altered by DAVID? And the exact mechanisms of how it’s able to penetrate law enforcement firewalls.”
Sophie frowned. “I cannot disclose proprietary details that could make the program replicable.”
Waxman snorted. “We have the program. It’s work product. We just need you to explain it to us.”
“I told you before and I’ll say it again: its proprietary software. You were using it with my cooperation and participation, which I’m considering rescinding.” Sophie felt her cheeks heat as she glared at her boss.
“All right now. We’re not going to settle this here.” Waxman appeared regretful, his eyes sincere and mouth pulled down. Sophie decided it must be because he’d just tipped his hand as to his real attitude about her work, and her temper spiked further. “Why don’t you just explain a little more, and leave it at that.”
Sophie spun on her heel, yanked open the observation room door, and stalked down the hall. Her skin felt flushed and gritty from chasing Lee. She’d already been stressed from what she’d been working on the night before and the visit to Alika. Annoyance with her boss and the FBI’s high-handed treatment of her program ratcheted her temper higher.
“First, they had me begging to use it, then they took it away, and now they want to take it over,” she muttered angrily. “Misbegotten poxy swine.”
Back in her office she booted up her workstation and pulled up the presentation. She added a few general paragraphs of explanation but was careful to hold back essential details. At least she’d finally finished the patent application and sent that off during her work binge last night.
That reminded her of poor Ginger, shut up in the apartment.
She called the pet service and asked for an extra long walk for Ginger. “She’s a sweet girl,” the coordinator said. “Our sub didn’t have any trouble with her. He said she’s just an angel.”
“He?” Sophie went still. Something about it being a male staffer who’d walked her dog put her on alert. “Who is the sub? Is he going there today?”
“No, Sandra’s back at work. His name was Fernando. Very handsome, too.” She giggled.
Sophie frowned. “What sort of background do you do on your people? My apartment has to be secure.” She didn’t want to get into why, but it couldn’t hurt to put a little fear into the flippant coordinator. “I’m an FBI agent.”
“Oh, I had no idea! Of course, we do the usual background check.” She named a company that for twenty-five dollars, checked for major legal trespasses. It was the barest bones, and Sophie was suddenly chilled. Ginger made her vulnerable in a lot of ways, not least of which was strangers having access to her home.
“First and last name,” Sophie rapped out.
“Oh. Well, I told you there was going to be a sub and you didn’t object then.”
“Things have changed since then.” Sophie remembered that phone call. She’d still been in shock about Alika, hadn’t processed the threat to her security. “First and last name, please.”
“Fernando Llamas.”
“What did he look like?”
“Mid-thirties, maybe. Dark hair and eyes. Um—nice body.” The coordinator’s voice had gone small.
“Height, weight?”
“Maybe six foot? Not fat, that’s for sure.”
Sophie typed the name and physical description into the FBI’s much more in-depth background check program. “Please advise me any time there’s going to be a sub, and I will check them out myself.”
“Of course. I’m sorry if you were alarmed.”
Sophie hung up and searched the name. The little skull spun and stopped.
The man had no record, but then the name came back to an Argentine actor popular in the fifties deceased in the 1980s.
She hacked into Aloha Petsitters employee database and consulted Fernando Llamas’s resume, which included being a vet tech and “sales.” He did not fit the usual profile of a dog walker, whose demographic she’d already assessed as college students or housewives whose kids were in school.
Someone had been in her apartment. Someone who didn’t feel right.
Her phone rang. “Interview is starting.” Ken’s voice.
“Be right there.”
Sophie needed help with this security breach. Not later, but now.
First priority was to scan her computers. She started a spyware removal program remotely to sweep her home rigs, and walked to Bateman’s workstation.
“I have to go into an interview, but I suspect someone’s been in my apartment. Can you go out and do a bug sweep?”
Bateman blinked pale eyes. Their last encounter had been so hostile she could tell he was surprised she was asking him for help.
“Please,” she added, though it pained her to do so. She dug in her pocket and handed him her keys. “Next to me you’re the best at detecting unauthorized tech.”
“Okay, since you put it so flatteringly.” Bateman took her keys and she handed him a slip of paper with her alarm code jotted down.
“Watch out Ginger doesn’t knock you over.”
“I’ll be careful.” He grinned. “You owe me now.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Oh, God.”
“When you least expect it, I’ll want a favor.”
“Whatever. Just make sure my apartment’s bug-free.” She hurried out the door and down the hall.
Sophie slid into a seat beside Waxman in front of the observation window. Her boss had adjusted the cameras so they also had back and side views of the people in the room. Gundersohn and Ken Yamada were on one side of the table, Lee Chan and his lawyer on the other, and things were already underway.
“I’ve advised my client that he is not under arrest, but he is choosing to cooperate with the investigation into Security Solutions because of his own concerns about the company.”
“Very good.” Ken smoothed his tie. “We appreciate that, Mr. Chan. We only came after you because of the concerns of your employer, Security Solutions. They were concerned it appeared you’d gone missing.”
“I no longer felt safe,” Chan said, with a glance at Fernandez, who nodded. “I’m in possession of valuable information and I’m worried for my life.”
“What information would that be?” Ken was deliberately keeping his voice casual. From Gundersohn’s folded arms and intimidating stare Sophie could tell the looming Swede had adopted the “bad cop” role. “As you know from our previous interview, a connection on one of our cases led to a probe into Security Solutions’ internal operations. In the course of that, we’ve found some patterns that have piqued our interest. So why don’t you add to that picture and tell us your concerns.”
“I need protection. And immunity.”
“We have to know more before we can make any such deals,” Gundersohn rumbled.
Sophie felt rather than saw Waxman nod beside her.
“My client can give you a thumbnail sketch but nothing more without agreements in writing,” Bennie Fernandez said.
“I’ll contact the District Attorney to alert him,” Waxman said into an intercom mic from beside Sophie. His voice echoed tinnily inside the room next to them. “Proceed.”
Waxman began working his phone while Lee leaned forward. “I was a part of developin
g the automated surveillance software that’s proprietary and our best selling point as a company. But then, I began noticing that many of our clients, who are not the most savory of characters, began having bad things happen to them. Blackmail, things like that. There’s a client information leak. And now the FBI is aware of this.”
“Yes,” Ken said. “We came to you to alert you that you had some sort of saboteur within the company.”
“Well, I agree that we do. And I’m being framed as that saboteur. But it’s not just that. Our client information is being leaked to someone.” Lee rubbed his chin with a shaking hand. “I think that person will kill to shut me up.”
“It does seem like one possible scenario is that you’re being set up,” Ken agreed. “But running away only strengthened the impression people had of you being the culprit. What makes you think that your life is in danger?”
“Well, our CEO, Sheldon Hamilton, seems to have disappeared. He’s supposed to be in Hong Kong, but when I called him to update him, apprise him of what’s happening, he was gone. He can’t be located anywhere. I trust Sheldon, I felt he should know what’s going on. But when I couldn’t reach him, I knew it was time to disappear. This person wants to set me up.”
“Why wouldn’t someone at Security Solutions have alerted us to Hamilton’s disappearance?” Ken said.
“Because—they want you to think I had something to do with it!” Lee’s eyes were wild.
“So what about…” Ken consulted his notes. “Todd Remarkian? He’s the other tech guy.”
“I talked to Todd. He was the one who told me he can’t find Sheldon anywhere. He’s contacted the Hong Kong authorities. You can verify this.” Lee looked down at his fingers and picked at a bleeding cuticle. There was a long pause.
“I’m still not hearing anything worth disturbing the District Attorney about. Your company seems bizarre and badly run, but that’s not a federal offense. Nor a killing one,” Gundersohn said.
“But Sheldon Hamilton’s gone. And it’s Sheldon who has the patent on the automated surveillance software. It’s his product. And someone has had him killed. Hong Kong is not a safe place.” Lee’s voice vibrated with fright. Sophie could tell by his blanched skin and trembling hands he wasn’t faking it.
