by Toby Neal
Jake surged to his feet. “Never mind. Let me know when the conference is scheduled with Kinoshita. The guys have the grounds covered. You should go get some sleep.” He scooped up the plastic figures and left.
Back at the guest room she was staying in, Sophie was too unsettled to relax. She changed into running clothes. She wouldn’t be able to get to sleep without exercise, and maybe she could spot something suspicious outside the compound. Jake didn’t like her nighttime runs for safety reasons, but when she looked out the window, the gorgeous length of moonlit beach was empty, as usual.
She set her Glock in the drawer of the nightstand beside the bed in her room and picked up her phone and texted Jake per protocol: “Going for a run. Too restless to sleep.”
“Want company?”
“No thanks.”
Sophie slid the phone into her pocket, along with her Taser. Maui was, for the most part, one of the safest places in the United States crime-wise, but right now she had enemies. She walked out of the main house and down across the lawn, exiting through the Plexiglas gate.
Sophie hit her stride barefoot in the hard-packed sand near the water’s edge. As they often did during her times alone, her thoughts turned to Todd Connor Remarkian, the enigmatic CEO of Security Solutions—the man she was dating.
Not that they’d had much time together.
Sophie daydreamed a bit as the metronome of her steps mixed with the gentle beat of the surf on the quiet beach. She’d finally committed her body and heart to someone, and the memories of their time together still made her chest tight with warm, tender feeling.
She and Connor had spent one unforgettable weekend together at the Hana Hotel before she had begun the current job at Shank Miller’s a couple of weeks ago. They kept in touch via text message and long phone calls at night, but she missed him with a deep ache.
Hopefully, her role on the Miller job, installing, optimizing, and training the nanny cam AI software that tracked human patterns in the subject’s house, would be over soon.
Sophie shook out her aching hand as she jogged. It was still a little sore, especially when overused, from a recent fracture to one of the bones in the back. For the most part, she’d quickly recovered from injuries sustained on her last assignment. But so far, life in the private sector was proving much more physically hazardous than her former career as an FBI agent.
The moon caressed the expanse of glittering black ocean. Palm trees created a jagged but graceful frame for the star-studded night sky. The smell of the sea, with its savor of salt and life, filled her nostrils. The mellow rhythms of slack-key guitar, that uniquely Hawaiian music, drifted down from one of the nearby hotels. The swish and retreat of gentle surf accompanied the beat of her footsteps as she ran. Paradise.
Sophie couldn’t help missing her big yellow Lab, Ginger, on a night like this. Ginger loved a good night run on the beach, and it would have been perfect to be running with Connor, too, and his beautifully trained, dignified Doberman, Anubis. Ginger was staying with friends Marcella and Marcus on Oahu at their little cottage outside of Honolulu, and Marcus joked that they were never giving her back.
The attack, when it came, felt like being slammed out of nowhere by some dark force.
Sophie’s body arched involuntarily, falling forward. A cry died on her lips as she crashed onto the hard sand near the water’s edge, her body twitching and spasming. All thought was shattered and disrupted, and blackness closed her eyes.
Chapter Three
Sophie came around to feel hands and bodies on either side of her, dragging her limp form along the beach.
A Taser. She had been tased—and it hurt way worse than she’d ever imagined. Her limbs were unresponsive and her skin crawled. Even her scalp tingled and burned. Her eyes rolled in her head and refused to focus—not that there was anything to make out but dark shapes and the sand beneath her.
“Hurry up,” The man on her right said. “We don’t want to be seen out here.”
“She didn’t look this heavy,” the one on her left complained. Both were panting heavily as they half-dragged, half-carried Sophie’s solidly muscular five-foot-nine, one-hundred-forty-pound body up the sloping beach.
Sophie let her head loll forward, trying to assess the situation. The electrical shock had disrupted her neural pathways and jangled every circuit in her body. She felt weak and disoriented, as intended, unable to fight back and felled by the element of surprise.
“I swear, he never said she was this heavy,” the one on her left complained again. He. This had to be an attempt to kidnap her by Assan Ang, her sadistic felon ex-husband! Yes, Sophie had powerful enemies—and one in particular. She was on her way to being tortured, raped, and killed.
Sophie dug her toes into the sand, creating drag, slowing the men down. The one on the left stumbled and grunted, eliciting a curse from the one on her right. They were off-balance. Sophie bent her knees and contracted her abs, dragging her legs forward. Calling on every reserve she had, she shot up to stand, ripping her arms out of their grip.
She was in no shape to fight two strong men. Her best option was flight, and there was only one direction with any real possibility. Sophie spun away and staggered toward the ocean, reeling and falling, scrambling up and propelling her body toward the water as fast as she could.
She barely heard the curses and cries behind her, but they were gaining. She was probably in better shape than her pursuers, if only her body could throw off enough of the effects of electrical shock to escape.
The ocean hitting her knees felt colder than Maui’s water should be, but the wet chill sensation blasted the last of the fog from her brain. Sophie dove in, flinging herself forward with all her strength.
She couldn’t let them hit her with the Taser again. Hopefully, the water would disable the weapon, not amplify it!
Sophie heard splashing behind her, but didn’t slow down to see how close her pursuers might be. She just launched forward with everything she had, flailing her arms and kicking her feet, churning through the black water as fast as her weakened body would go. She swam straight out from shore toward the moonlit horizon.
Face down in the inky sea, Sophie found the rhythm of an overhand stroke, creating distance with every powerful pull of her arms as her strength returned.
She didn’t slow until her lungs were burning and her arms were limp as string. When she finally paused, lifting her head to look back toward shore, her eyes stung from the salt and her body trembled uncontrollably.
She shook the water from her eyes, gazing at the distant beach. A black line of palm trees and greenery lined the shore, highlighting the lit shapes of houses and the silver emptiness of the beach. Her pockets felt heavy with her ruined cell phone and her own useless Taser.
But not even her Glock would have protected her from the surprise attack she’d endured. Stupid to have been daydreaming about her boyfriend. There was no doubt in her mind who was behind the attack—Assan. She’d known the Hong Kong gangster had escaped federal custody, but had been lulled into sloppiness by no sign of him since the news of his escape.
Assan had sworn to kill her the last time he saw her, and she had no doubt he planned to do that—but in his own good time, when he’d tired of torturing her. The thought chilled her, sapping her energy. The inevitability of her death at his hands seemed to take her over, trying to pull her down into the black depths in which she swam.
Suicide would cheat Assan of his pleasure, and save herself pain.
“Ah, depression, my old friend. I wondered when I’d hear from you,” she murmured, salt stinging her mouth as she spoke the words aloud.
Dr. Kinoshita had told Sophie to identify the depression’s powerful thoughts to help distance them from herself. Over time, Sophie had come to recognize the distinct “sound” of those thoughts—and they came to her in her mother Pim Wat’s flat, sad voice.
Sophie lay back in the water, letting her bare feet drift upward, spreading her arms to float a
s best she could. She gazed up into the vault of the sky. The moon on the horizon was almost as bright as dawn. The stars seemed close enough to touch. Perhaps it was the electrical shock, or the effect of an overdose of adrenaline, but it seemed like she could fall upward into the stars, and be absorbed into space.
Everything was just atoms, vibrating at different frequencies. She was a tiny part of it all, and separation was merely an illusion.
Not the voice of depression, this time. This was the voice of Spirit speaking within her. She was learning to recognize that, too.
The cold of the water penetrated, and Sophie rolled onto her belly, striking out for shore with a gentle breaststroke, trying not to imagine all of the creatures below her in the inky dark water, some of which might enjoy her as a snack. Little current or wave action impeded her progress back to shore, and for that she was grateful. She swam for an endless period before her feet touched the sandy bottom and she staggered up onto the sand, still a good way off from the estate.
But the beach was lit up with the floodlights Shank Miller hated. The dark silhouettes of Jake and their two men moved along the beach toward her, flashlights in their hands.
Sophie straightened, pushing her tired, sopping body forward through the shallow water. She raised her arms, waving. “Over here!”
Antigua, Shank Miller’s property manager and chef, handed Sophie a mug of strong Thai tea. “Here. Drink this.”
The china rim of the cup chattered against Sophie’s teeth as she sipped, wrapped in a towel and seated on one of the canvas-covered couches in Miller’s living room. She kept her eyes down as Jake sat across from her on an ottoman.
“Sophie.” Jake squeezed her forearm with a big hand. She raised her eyes reluctantly to his.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone out alone for a run.”
“An accurate assessment. I believe I told you some time ago that you can’t afford that kind of risk until Ang is in custody.” Jake’s eyes were blued steel.
Sophie nodded and sipped her tea. Her hands were steadier. “You were right. Try not to gloat.”
“This is too serious for gloating. I’ll save that for the little stuff, like when I beat you in the ring.” They practiced mixed martial arts sparring several times weekly to keep up combat skills. “So, I called your cop friend, Lei. She’s on her way to interview you about the attack.”
“I appreciate that. Lei knows the story.” The idea of telling a random unknown police officer her long and painful history with Assan Ang made Sophie’s stomach cramp. “I should call Marcella, too. And Connor. I just need a few more minutes to pull myself together. And, I’ll need a new phone.”
“I have an extra burner you can have, and you can download your contacts list.” Jake squeezed her arm. She’d forgotten his hand still gripped her. He stood and began to pace with that restless energy that was such a part of him. “I’m going to review the surveillance footage from the cameras looking down the beach. See if your wannabe kidnappers were caught on camera.”
“Good idea. Thank you.”
Jake strode off as Antigua entered, bringing her familiar aroma of coconut and gardenia. The woman’s café latte skin gleamed in the lamplight as she held out a fresh towel to Sophie. “I’m thinking a hot shower might feel good before you have to tell your story to the cops.” Her warm voice was compassionate. “I know I wouldn’t want to be sitting around in soaked, salty clothes if I were you.”
Sophie rose from the couch and took the towel gratefully, handing the chef her empty mug. “Yes, thanks. You are absolutely right about that.”
Under the fall of water in the little bathroom attached to her guest suite, Sophie assessed herself for damage. The Taser had struck her between her shoulder blades. The prongs had dug into skin revealed by her skimpy running top and the area felt sore. She still felt some residual weakness, and the thump of an approaching headache—but she was unharmed otherwise.
She was damn lucky to have gotten away.
Assan was going to be more crafty and prepared next time. He would find some new way to attack her when her guard was down. She remembered his mind games all too well, punishments ranging from subtle to overt. Her escape would enrage him; he would look for a way to make her suffer.
The depression beat its dark wings, urging her to give up, give in, and let whatever might come happen. “You always lose, Sophie. You are just unlucky, always have been. Doomed. You might as well give up.”
But she had so much to live for. A new relationship with an amazing man, friends, and a truly great dog. She looked down at the delicate curlicued Thai writing on the insides of her arms: hope and respect, power and truth. Down the outsides of her thighs: courage and freedom. Circling her navel in tiny writing were love, joy, and bliss. These words were her mantra, her destiny—not the crippling negativity of the depression.
She’d escaped and she had beaten Assan before—and she could do it again. She would do it again, and ultimately, she’d find a way to make sure he never hurt her, or anyone she loved, ever again. And she might have to do it herself.
Sophie met with Sergeant Leilani Texeira and her longtime partner Pono Kaihale in Shank Miller’s den, a masculine room sporting a pool table and video game console as well as a small home theater area.
Lei enfolded Sophie in a hug. Her friend’s curly brown hair tickled Sophie’s nose, and her athletic body, clad in the usual tank top with cotton jacket and jeans, felt wiry and petite in Sophie’s arms. “I’m sorry to have to come see you for this reason.”
“It’s always good to see you, Lei, no matter the circumstances.”
“Likewise.” The women smiled at each other, and Lei gestured to the deep armchair under a masculine, green shaded lamp. “Just begin at the beginning. Pono will tape this, so you don’t have to repeat anything. And if we have questions, we’ll let you know.”
After Pono set up the recording with date, time, and people present, Sophie started in. “I believe the kidnappers were sent by my ex-husband, Assan Ang.”
Conscious of laying the groundwork for the investigation by sharing background, Sophie told them her history with Ang in brief, detached terms.
The arranged marriage in Thailand when she was nineteen. The five years in Hong Kong when she had lived as a captive in their apartment, allowed out only on Assan’s arm for social reasons or to attend college, where she’d studied computer science. Her escape from Ang, a carefully engineered plan that had brought her to the United States and into the FBI, who’d headhunted Sophie in Hong Kong for her language and tech abilities. A brief synopsis of her five-year career as a tech agent in the FBI. The case that had led her to uncover Ang’s elaborate plot to recapture her. The brutal showdown between them that resulted in his arrest. And finally, Ang’s escape from federal custody during his extradition back to Hong Kong.
“I’m sorry to make you go through all of that again,” Lei said. Her brown eyes were compassionate.
So were Pono’s, as the sturdy Hawaiian man nodded in support. “It’s important that we have all the facts on record as we move ahead to try to capture Ang.” Pono’s big brown hands dwarfed the stylus he used to take notes on his tablet. “You’re here working on a security detail for Shank Miller. Is there any chance that this attack is related to that case, instead?”
“I don’t believe so. There is a Detective Cruz with MPD who is handling the criminal tracking of the stalking case on Miller. This attempt to kidnap me does not match anything about that case.”
“We didn’t think so,” Lei agreed. “We just have to explore every possibility. We’ll contact Cruz so we don’t duplicate any efforts.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if this crazy fan calling herself Blondie doesn’t make some sort of attempt to capture Shank in the not-too-distant future,” Sophie said. “But as of now, I believe tonight’s attack was directed only at me. I’ve been expecting something from Assan. He promised to kill me the next time we met. But I suspect he will keep me al
ive for a while first, to…” Sophie’s throat closed. She was unable to speak of the sexual and other tortures she suspected Ang had planned for her.
Pono cleared his throat and looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but Lei met Sophie’s eyes squarely. “Staying inside this compound and going out only with an escort seem like pretty reasonable precautions. I’m surprised Jake let you go jogging at night, alone.”
“Jake’s not in charge of how I spend my personal time,” Sophie said, irritation flushing her neck.
“Partners look out for each other,” Pono said, with a head nod to Lei. “I’ve had a few things to say to Lei over the years about both her personal life and how she was handling her work. And she’s never short on opinions about me, either.”
Sophie swallowed, looking down at her hands. “You two have a different dynamic than Jake and I.”
Lei cleared her throat. “As you know, I’m the FBI liaison on Maui, so I’ll get in touch with the Oahu Bureau office to work on the investigation into Ang’s whereabouts. We’ll make sure the Oahu team is updated on this latest incident, and try to get some manpower over here to check whether he is on Maui. We’ll also be looking for the two thugs who tried to grab you. Good job getting away. I’ve been tased myself, and it’s no fun.” Lei patted Sophie’s shoulder. “The good news is you’ll be fine in the morning. Get some rest.”
“I’ll try.” Sophie staggered to her room, wishing she’d just listened to Jake and gone to bed hours ago. Jake had left the burner phone for her on the bureau, and she took the time to download her contacts—but calling Connor and Marcella felt too exhausting. She fell asleep with the phone in her hand, curled close to her body.
Chapter Four
Sophie woke to knocking on her door. She knuckled her eyes, slipping into the silk robe embroidered with dragons her aunt had sent from Thailand. She opened the door. “Yes?”
