by Toby Neal
Not to be able to see Dougal Sloane taken down at the compound was a huge setback. The fact that he could assault her the way he had and get away with it felt fundamentally wrong. She could push to press charges, but she’d then have to reveal the identity she’d used, and why.
In the new case they were constructing, would Sloane even come up as a suspect? It was doubtful he had anything to do with the finances of the cult, so this new angle might capture Jackson, but Sloane would still be free.
The limitations of being a civilian investigator were being brought to the fore.
Darkness fell as Sophie jogged slowly along the Ala Wai Canal’s cement walkway. Waikiki was everything the tourists came for: with the daytime crowd gone, the full moon sparkled on the peaceful canal, and a cool evening breeze made a subtle rustle through the palms.
Ginger tugged at her leash, pulling Sophie forward with a happy, excited bark. There was someone near the canal’s edge—someone with a dog, someone Ginger knew. Sophie allowed the Lab to tow her toward the silhouetted figures.
“Sophie?” Connor Remarkian’s voice was sharp with surprise, and Anubis, in a rare display of disobedience, dragged the man toward the straining Ginger. The dogs met, sniffing, Ginger making little ecstatic noises of happiness as she greeted her friend from their hikes. “What are you doing out here?”
“I might ask you the same, Connor,” Sophie replied, her spirits lifting at encountering the man and his dog. She stepped in for the polite hug that was an appropriate greeting in Hawaii. She had never gotten used to all the physical touching that was a part of the culture here, but she’d learned to deal with it. Connor smelled unexpectedly good, of sandalwood aftershave and warm, clean male.
He seemed to think the same about her, his hands cupping the rounded muscles of her shoulders as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “What a delightful surprise this is. And here I was, feeling a little lonely and sorry for myself.”
Sophie laughed. “You, lonely? How is that even possible? You must have women chasing you every day.”
He shrugged, a movement in the darkness. “You’d be surprised. So do you come here often?”
“That sounds like one of those things men say in a bar,” Sophie said. “But yes. I do. A couple of times a week, at least.”
“So do I. We should coordinate.”
“That’s a possibility.” But Sophie didn’t always want to share her alone times jogging the nighttime beach or canal area. They fell into step, walking along the canal’s edge. Sophie liked the feel of his easy-moving bulk beside her.
“We talked about doing the Stairway to Heaven this weekend,” Connor said.
Another rigorous hike with him and Anubis would be fun. But when she bent to release Ginger’s leash, her bruised ribs still hurt.
Sophie shook her head. “I got a few injuries on my last job. I should probably take it easy.”
“What? Sophie Ang taking it easy?” She could almost hear Connor smiling in the dark, though only the moon gilded the top of his blond head and his broad shoulders, gleaming in a tank shirt. He released Anubis, too, and the Doberman and Lab commenced playing, leaping, and chasing each other like puppies in a little park area.
“I’m trying to listen to and respect my body more.” Sophie was surprised by the truth of her words even as she spoke them. Driving herself, punishing herself, beating others down and letting them beat her up—those days were over.
The realization felt like a small detonation.
What would that mean for her MMA fighting? She didn’t know, only that she didn’t want to show up for work covered with bruises anymore, didn’t want to see a battered face in the mirror every day.
“Did I—overstep myself?” Connor’s voice was hesitant.
“No. I’m just…figuring out some things.” Sophie lifted her head, straightened her spine. Enough with the foolish crush she’d been entertaining toward the Ghost. It would never go anywhere. Sheldon Hamilton was overseas somewhere, unlikely to return, and Connor was flesh and bone, right here, and he made her feel good. That was something, at least, and more than most. “Would you—like to go out with me? On a date?”
Connor halted and they faced each other. Sophie wished it were brighter so she could see the expression in his eyes, but they were hidden by shadows. His voice was rough. “I’d like nothing better. I was working up the courage to ask you, but I was afraid I wouldn’t even have our hikes to look forward to if you said no.”
Sophie laughed. It sounded nervous, thin, her breath hitching. “I’m not very good at this dating thing. And I should warn you, I seem to be cursed. Bad things happen around me.”
“You trying to talk me out of it? Not going to happen.” Connor lifted his hands slowly as if approaching some wild, shy creature. He set them on her shoulders, his fingers squeezing, stroking. “You have the most marvelous deltoids.”
This time Sophie’s laugh was free and genuine. “Now that is one I doubt you say to all the girls.”
“Only to you, Sophie.” Connor’s voice was husky. He leaned forward slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away, but Sophie didn’t want to. She stepped in to meet him, her hands coming up to rest lightly on his shoulders. His face descended to hers, backlit by the moon, and his lips touched hers gently. Sophie shut her eyes, the better to take in whatever there was to know from this experience.
She was surprised by an unfamiliar tug of desire at the base of her spine as the kiss deepened, surprised by an impulse to lean deeper into Connor, to slide her hands up over his shoulders, to cup the back of his head. She drew him down closer into her, pressing her body to his. Connor had made a sound, something between a groan and a whisper, as his arms slid down and tightened around her, bringing her flush against his hard torso.
Sophie remembered the last time she had been kissed by Alika, a moment so magical that she hadn’t allowed herself to recall it until this right now.
Connor wasn’t Alika, but he was a little bit wonderful, too.
She opened her mouth to his, and they tasted each other. Their hands traveled lightly over each other’s bodies, exploring. Sophie’s skin felt sensitized, every touch igniting heat, but still not sure. She stopped moving, standing passively and allowing his hands to caress the deep curve of her waist, slide along the muscles of her back, the contours of her arms.
She needed to know what she was feeling, if this was right, or too soon, or the wrong man. He took advantage of her pliancy to bend her so that her head rested against him, angling her jaw so that he could kiss her deeper. One hand held her close, as the other slid up her side, and back down, feathering over her butt.
Connor noticed her stillness and paused, lifting his head to gaze down at her. Sophie opened her eyes. She couldn’t see his face, and wished she could.
“Are you all right?” He was gentle and alert to her. She liked that he was paying attention.
“Just taking it all in. This may be—moving a little fast for me.” Her voice sounded breathless.
“We have all the time in the world.” Connor let go of her, his hands sliding down to take hers. “No rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
The acceptance in his words, his willingness to let her set the pace—all of that gave Sophie the confidence to rise up on her toes, clasp his face in her hands, and pull him down for one more kiss.
“Let’s have dinner on Saturday,” she said. His teeth gleamed briefly in the dark as he smiled.
“It’s a date. Thanks for asking me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dunn barged into her office the next morning, practically hopping with amped-up energy. “My surveillance camera picked up some unusual activity.”
Sophie frowned, looking up from checking DAVID’s cache files. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the lo-res, time lapse surveillance camera I set up pointed at the compound.” Dunn threw himself into one of the chairs at her little conference table without invitation. “Also, our
informant Corbett made contact to let me know that the cult is packing up and leaving the Waipio Valley location. They’re going to South America.”
“Sounds like they’re doing damage control. Why didn’t you tell me you were setting up a cam?” Sophie asked sharply.
Dunn shrugged. “It never came up. Check this out.” He opened the slim laptop he had brought in and turned it to face her. “This footage was sent remotely, and as you recall the signal isn’t too good out there. The resolution isn’t great, but you can see that they’re digging up the garden. With a backhoe. At night.”
Sophie hurried around her desk to lean over his shoulder. The images were grainy, shot through a night vision scope, but even so Sophie could see the small backhoe, planted square in the middle of what would have been the mandala labyrinth in the garden, and it was digging, creating a mound of soil. “They’re moving the bodies.”
“It looks that way. Any luck with your online hunt for a reason for a search warrant?”
“I’ve isolated a couple of possible sources of unreported funds. But—I’m afraid it is not enough yet.”
Dunn pointed a finger at the screen. “This was last night. I should have been monitoring the cam all night, but I left the laptop at work. My bad. Who knows what they’ve done by now.” He punched a few more buttons, and a new window popped up. Morning light was dawning over the Waipio Valley, throwing the high, velvety-green, corrugated sides of the valley into sharp relief.
Sophie frowned. “We have to talk to Hilo PD.”
“What will they be able to do?” Dunn threw his hands up in frustration. “You know that isn’t actionable. But maybe—” he leaned forward, his thick forearms bunching. “Maybe, if we’re able to sample that soil using the new sniffer technology device, we can get them to come check that hole.”
Sophie lifted an eyebrow, feeling a smile tug her lips. “You just want to go back in and use that device.”
“So what if I do? Thing cost thousands, and we haven’t had a case to use it on since we bought it. This is the perfect test situation.”
The cadaver detection device, a handheld contraption utilizing the ninhydrin-based decomposition gas detection technology, was being touted as a replacement for cadaver dogs. Sophie had her doubts, but clearly Dunn was eager to try the thing out.
“So what if we do find something?” Sophie leaned back and tapped her lips with a forefinger as her eyes wandered the acoustic tile ceiling. “So we find something that indicates the presence of a human body. Then what? How do we stop the cult from disposing of it, and get Hilo PD there in time to confiscate the remains?”
Her gaze fell, to find Dunn looking her over, a pinched expression on his face. Clearly he didn’t care for the Mary Watson outfit she’d dressed in today: long Bermuda shorts, sensible sandals that fastened with Velcro, and a button-down floral shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows. It seemed like the kind of outfit that was appropriate for a casual office setting like theirs.
“What’s with the new threads? You look like you’re going to a church luncheon—with my grandmother.”
Sophie shrugged, her cheeks heating. She was experimenting with clothing styles for the first time in her life, and his comment hurt a bit. “I was getting sick of always looking like an FBI agent, or like I was going to the gym. Can we get back to the topic at hand?”
“You have to take me shopping with you next time you go. I can help you with wardrobe choices.” Dunn looked serious, though she grinned at the thought of him trailing her through clothing aisles, holding her bags and advising her on purses. “I know how you should dress.”
“Oh really?” She scoffed. “Probably something tight and slinky. You men are all the same.”
“No, really. You are what I’d call a ‘classic.’ You should dress like Audrey Hepburn. Little black dress, cream silk blouse, tailored pants. Pearl earrings.” The tops of Dunn’s ears had gone red.
Sophie met his gaze. “You’ve thought about this,” she said in astonishment.
The color spread from Dunn’s ears to his cheeks. “My mother was a model. Worked closely with some designers in New York. I got dragged to a lot of shows as a kid.”
“Fascinating. Turns out I agree with you about the pearls, at least. I have a nice pair of earrings at home.” Sophie took a sip of her mug of morning tea. “All right. Where were we?”
“Planning a raid on the compound with the sniffer device.” Dunn stood. “Let’s run this by Bix and see what he says.”
Sophie laughed. “I think you’re starting to appreciate the benefits of the chain of command.”
Dunn glanced back at her from the doorway and winked. “I am, as a matter fact. I’m beginning to like the feeling of having my butt covered.”
It took them all day to prepare: prepping their strategy with Bix, packing and sorting gear, communicating with and setting up the situation with Hilo PD, who agreed to be standing by to move in on their positive ID of human remains biologicals.
Stepping up into the helicopter in the long, slanting rays of sunset, Sophie ticked over the plan as she fastened her four-point harness. Her wardrobe dilemmas were resolved by being decked out in dark, gray-green camouflage wear; underneath she wore the newest, latest version of a bulletproof vest made of lightweight, high-technology fabric that was supposed to be able to stop any bullet. Knowing Sloane and the sniper on duty at the compound, Sophie wished this didn’t have to be her first time wearing it, or that she’d at least had time to watch the demo videos of how it worked.
Before they put on their flight helmets, Dunn leaned over. He smelled like lemon and breath mints. “I’m kind of shocked Hilo PD is standing by at the edge of the valley. I thought Ohale would give us more of a hassle.”
“I think he wants Jackson as much as we do,” Sophie said. “And he knows this is their last chance for someone else to get inside.” They donned the helmets and conversation ceased as Security Solutions’ small, lightweight stealth helicopter rose from the pad on top of their building. Sophie tried to enjoy the sight of the city beneath them, spread like a sparkling carpet of jewels, but the small size of the aircraft, the buffered, silent engine technology, and the sleek shape, built for speed, not stability, all contributed to a rough, bouncy flight all the way across the black ocean to the Big Island.
Sophie’s stomach was churning with airsickness by the time they swooped into the furthest corner of Waipio Valley. Per usual, they would have to work their way closer on foot.
It was beginning to feel almost like a familiar routine to drop out of the hovering helicopter into long grass, give a thumbs up to their pilot, drop the visor of her night vision helmet, engage comms, and follow Dunn’s rapid progress through the jungle. Dunn had a GPS heading on the compound and made a beeline for it—regardless of trees, fences, the river, or taro patches in the way.
They reached the compound in an hour.
The moon was still high, and detection was easily possible as they flattened themselves into deep shadow against the high wooden wall. Dunn carried the cadaver detection device in his backpack, and Sophie carried evidence bags and a trowel to store soil samples in.
The gap they’d made in the razor wire of the fence had been fixed.
“Doesn’t matter.” Dunn’s eyes were invisible behind the faceplate of his visor but he seemed to sense her dismay. “We have to get in closer to the digging area anyway. The compound’s security is going to be on alert with any organics exposed.”
Organics. What a way to describe whatever was left of three beautiful women.
But they needed to reduce their mission to a series of neutral components. Sophie gave a brisk nod.
“This looks good.” Dunn’s whisper went from the microphone, so close to his lips, straight into Sophie’s ear. They worked their way around the compound to the shadowed area directly opposite their target. Per their plan, Sophie loosened her weapon and turned her back to Dunn as he strapped on climbing spikes and took out his wire cuttin
g tools.
The night was silent but for the chorus of coqui frogs, their high-pitched calls creating a backdrop of white noise that screened the soft clinking of Dunn’s equipment as he prepared. In no time her partner was at the top of the fence.
Sophie kept an eye on his movements even as she scanned the quiet area surrounding them. But suddenly Dunn went rigid as sparks flew up from the bolt cutters he’d set to the wire. He flew backward, falling to hit the fence with a heavy thump. He dangled from his climbing gear, head down, arms and legs limp.
“Venomous yak worms!” Sophie exclaimed. They’d electrified the wire!
She jumped up high enough to grasp hold of Dunn, clearly unconscious. Whipping out her combat knife, she cut the rope tying him to the top of the fence and caught his heavy body, breaking its fall and lowering him to the ground at her feet.
Sophie scanned for danger, but heard nothing. Saw nothing.
They had to have surveillance cams or some sort of monitoring system for the electrified fence. They had to know that the current had been breached.
Sophie checked Dunn’s vitals. His heart was beating—rapidly, irregularly. He was still breathing, but unconscious. His color was pale even in the dark. There was nothing she could do for him right now but leave him to rest. Hopefully he’d come around soon.
The thought of going away empty-handed was intolerable. Dunn had breached the electrical circuit. Maybe this mission wasn’t over yet, because it didn’t seem as if they’d been detected.
It could be a trap. But if so, why hadn’t Sloane and his helpers come after them already, with Dunn passed out on the ground? It was worth taking a chance, because it was going to be the last chance they had to gather evidence about the missing women.
Sophie stripped off Dunn’s climbing harness, strapped on his spikes, and removed the backpack with the sniffer device in it from his body. She stowed a few more evidence bags from her bag into his, donned the pack, and hit the fence. At the top, she scanned the compound. All was quiet.
