by Toby Neal
Sophie’s stomach lurched and tightened as she sat down slowly, facing them. This had to be something to do with the Ghost. But how had they detected the Ghost’s activities?
“As you know, I’m the FBI contact for Maui,” Lei said. “Technically, this isn’t a case for Pono to be involved with, but I got clearance since I needed backup for the interview with Remarkian.” Lei blew out a breath, shook her head, and made eye contact with Sophie. “There is an investigation into allegations that Remarkian is involved in some illegal online activities. An agent was killed not long ago, and there are those who think he was behind it.”
Sophie gasped. “No. That’s impossible.” They were onto the Ghost—and thought he was involved in the death of an agent? This was worse than anything she’d dared imagine. Connor would never be involved with something like that…unless the agent was dirty.
“I’m sorry about this.” Lei’s tilted, warm brown eyes were serious as she gazed at Sophie. “You two are dating. I hate to throw a spoke in the wheel of your first big relationship since Alika…but these are serious concerns. Is there anything that worries you about his activities? About his online presence?”
Sophie stood up in agitation. She shoved her hands into her pockets, and paced. She had to buy time and get more information. “Where is this coming from? Who called you from Oahu?”
“Ken Yamada. My former partner in the FBI. You’ve worked cases with him, too. He told me he’s had an eye on Todd since the disappearance of Sheldon Hamilton on your last case together. And I believe you know all about that case.” Lei’s gaze was implacable when Sophie glanced at her friend.
“I can’t believe Todd would ever be mixed up in…murder.” The word stuck in Sophie’s throat. What a lie. The Ghost dealt his version of justice evenhandedly, with no regard for title or position. The Ghost believed in matching the severity of the crime with the severity of the punishment. If this agent was dead at the hand of the Ghost, the man had done something really terrible.
But Connor had told her to believe in him, that he wasn’t involved with what they were accusing him of.
“I can’t talk with you about this,” Sophie said abruptly. “It’s a conflict of interest for me.”
Lei frowned, surprise in her raised brows. “What? You know something.”
“I cannot participate in this investigation at this time,” Sophie said woodenly. “I have to check some things out. I will get back to you when I’m ready to share. If I’m ready to share. Otherwise, you can subpoena me and I’ll speak to you with a lawyer present.”
Sophie’s stomach churned as the faces of her friends stiffened and went cold. Finally, Lei stood up. “Okay. I know it won’t do any good to drag you down to the station or something like that. This is a very sensitive situation, and we are all aware of that. I’m sorry even to have to put these thoughts into your mind about Todd, Sophie, but better sooner than later if there’s truth in it, right?” She cocked her head with a sad smile.
Sophie could not smile back. “You are correct. If we can be done, now, I need to make some phone calls.”
Chapter Six
Thinking about the report from the two operatives who had failed to capture his wife filled Assan with familiar rage. She was so much stronger than she used to be. It didn’t pay to underestimate her ability to evade him.
But that strength would also make her capture so much more satisfying.
He had to find a way to punish her. She would expect it—she’d know she’d earned his wrath. And once she’d been chastened, he’d find a subtler way to capture and control her.
Assan looked out the window at the view of ocean and sky: another boring tropical seascape. The climate was nice here, not as hot as Hong Kong—but the slow pace of life, the celebratory mood of the people in his area, the need for concealment—all of it irritated him. He would be here only as long as it took to get his hands on her, and to do the business they had together.
A slow smile spread across Assan’s face as he considered an idea. He picked up the phone to contact his man on Oahu.
Ken Yamada had a cool voice on the phone, carrying the lilt of someone who had grown up in Hawaii. “This is Special Agent Yamada.”
“Ken? It’s Sophie.”
Lei and Pono had left Sophie alone at last, and after turning over the surveillance cams to Ronnie again, Sophie was back in the guest room inside Shank Miller’s, throwing her clothing and belongings into a duffel.
“Sophie.” Ken sighed, and Sophie could clearly picture her former colleague’s severely handsome, ascetic face, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lei and Pono must have talked to you.”
“Yes, they did.” Sophie rolled each item of her simple clothing into a tight bundle and packed it into the bag. “And as a friend, I’m wondering why you didn’t call me yourself as soon as you suspected Todd Remarkian might be mixed up with the vigilante we investigated on that Security Solutions case.”
“I wanted… Damn it, Sophie, I wanted something good for you. And Todd seemed like a good thing. But then we got some new intel, and I thought the news—and the questions—would be better coming from Lei, in person, than from me on the phone.”
Sophie sat abruptly on the end of the bed, her legs giving out. “You really think he killed an agent?”
A long pause. Finally, “Not necessarily. But I think Remarkian’s involved with that Ghost character we uncovered during that first Security Solutions case we worked.”
“Tell me everything.”
“I can’t.” Ken’s voice was laden with regret. “You know I have nothing but respect for you, Sophie. But we can’t disclose an ongoing investigation to a possible witness. You know that as much as anyone.”
“We’re dating. I’ve slept with him!” Sophie exclaimed, balling a fist and pressing it against her aching stomach. She and Ken had forged a bond over their cases together; she knew about his orientation and trusted his quiet integrity. “Tell me I didn’t just make the hugest mistake of my life.”
“I wish I could say for sure, Soph.” His gentle tone made tears prickle her eyes. “But I’m pretty sure your biggest mistake was marrying Assan Ang.”
“Ha. You are correct on that one.” Sophie shook her head, stood up. Paced. She returned to rolling a pair of yoga pants and stuffing them into her bag. “Assan’s still trying to get to me.”
“I know. Lei informed the office. And we’re looking for him, as I’m sure you know. I wish I could come over and search for him there on Maui myself, but I’m stuck here on a case. We want Ang in custody as much as you do.”
“He’s off the grid. Which is where I need to go also.” Sophie rattled off the burner phone number. “I’m returning to my Mary Watson identity and I’ll be offline, except for this phone, until he’s captured.”
“That’s not a good idea, Sophie. You should stay where you are, make use of your secure and reinforced location.” Ken paused. “I’m sure your partners at Security Solutions would agree.”
“I don’t much care what anyone thinks right now.” Sophie’s neck felt hot. “I was attacked by professionals within a hundred yards of this supposedly secure location, where we have continued to receive objects harassing our client. Very disturbing objects, with threatening messages. So, you’ll pardon me if I don’t feel very secure here. I may actually be adding risk to our client, as well. I’ll do better on my own.” She ended the call.
The cash-only hostel in the little beachfront town of Paia on Maui’s north shore was just a place to throw her duffel down and crash while she worked on finding Assan. She’d stayed in Ma`alea on her last job, but varying patterns were important in escaping detection.
Jake, of course, had not agreed with her plan. “I can keep you safe. I can make sure he doesn’t come after you again. That’s what we’re doing for Shank Miller. How could hiding by yourself be better?”
“Jake, I’m not going to discuss this with you. I’m a liability to your surveillance detail h
ere. I might actually bring danger to Miller in his home, and that’s the last thing he needs.” Sophie had faced Jake as he blocked the exit of the mansion, ripped and intimidating in a workout tee with the neck and sleeves torn off. Even in casual clothes he was wearing a weapon in a shoulder holster.
“I need you here.” Gray eyes burned holes in her.
“No, you don’t. I’ve prepped a report and left it for you. The AI software is as trained as I can get it without Miller in residence. The next phase begins when he is here for at least a week, and the cameras can record his activity for analysis. I am leaving, and here’s the only number where you can reach me. Call if you need anything for work.” She pressed a Post-it note into his hand and brushed by him, out the door.
For a second, she thought he was actually going to try to physically stop her, but the moment passed. She could still hear his voice, low and forceful. “Be careful. Please.”
She was being careful. She knew how to spot a tail, and hadn’t detected one when she left Miller’s—but to make sure he hadn’t tracked her out of the compound, she’d returned the rental car and taken a cab to Paia. She’d go back and pick up another rental tomorrow.
Sophie looked around the bare room with its sturdy, handmade queen bed built of two-by-fours. The plinking sound of a dripping faucet echoed from the tiny bathroom. The palms outside rushed and sang in the ever-present Maui wind as Sophie set up some of her own security measures: a detachable extra lock, and a tiny motion-activated security cam that fed to her phone.
At the sink, Sophie cut off most of her hair with her nail scissors. Soon the sink was full of fluffy, dark brown curls, hair she’d tried to grow out for months to hide the scar on her face and up into her hairline. A vain effort—it had never worked, anyway. She eyed her stark reflection in the mirror with a grimace.
With her hair shortened, she was able to fit on a long black wig. She put on some makeup and red lipstick.
Wearing hair to her waist, a pretty feminine dress, and modish black-framed glasses, Sophie Ang disappeared and Mary Watson took her place.
Deepening shadow seeped into the luminous evening sky as Sophie donned a pair of sturdy sandals and a sun hat. Her laptop in a jute bag under her arm, she headed out into the festive little town with its brightly colored shops and warm, crowded streets.
Trapped sunlight from the waning day radiated heat from the sidewalk up her legs, but Sophie was well-covered by a pair of exercise shorts under her dress. Nothing got in the way of her mobility. Wearing a swirly skirt had almost lost her a fight with a deadly perpetrator while dressed in her Mary Watson disguise.
Sophie walked to her favorite Maui coffee and crêpe restaurant, Café des Amis. Seated at one of the bamboo tables, an iced tea at her elbow, she booted up the secure satellite hookup on her laptop and routed her connection through a series of Virtual Private Network nodes, assuring her online anonymity. Her back to the corner of the restaurant, the brim of her sun hat down, Sophie left her earbuds in place but turned off, staying alert to the ebb and flow of people around her.
She didn’t think Assan would try anything in a crowded venue like this, but she’d already learned it didn’t pay to get complacent.
Sophie activated her rogue software program and combed the Internet using DAVID’s powerful search engine, looking for any trace of information on the case involving the Ghost that had brought the FBI out to interview Connor. There was nothing new in the cache she’d had gathering intel on him for the last month. Perhaps their talks had made a difference, and Connor was rethinking his vigilante role.
But more likely, he had gotten wind of the FBI’s investigation and was lying low until things blew over. He’d told her he was not going to stop his mission for her, or for anyone.
Sophie had uncovered his secret some time ago, and shelved her reservations about it in the face of their overwhelming attraction to each other. She’d always worried, though, that the Ghost vigilante carried the seeds of destruction for their relationship.
Sophie found a small story, almost buried, referring to the death of a twice-decorated Washington FBI agent— “under circumstances that the agency has refused to comment on.” Neither name nor photo identified the agent in question. She dragged and dropped the snippet of news into a new cache file, labeled to monitor that specific case.
DAVID operated on search terms, so she generated several trackable ones to watch for online activity on the case.
Now to look for Assan. Sophie switched to the search caches she’d set up to troll for online trace of her ex, and her brows snapped together to see a digital footprint from one of Assan’s financial accounts associated with an art gallery in Lahaina.
One of Assan’s favorite access codes had been used to facilitate a large money transfer from a Hong Kong account to the upscale art gallery. Assan was on the FBI’s most wanted list, and the only reason DAVID had twigged to this clue was that Sophie had input all the codes she remembered his using as part of DAVID’s search keywords protocol.
Even as she looked, the digital trace erased itself.
Sophie pulled up the Paradise Treasures Gallery website, a chill sensation tripping fingers up her spine.
Assan’s assets were supposed to be frozen as part of the crackdown on his drug smuggling, but Sophie was not so naïve that she believed the FBI and Interpol had been able to find all of his accounts.
But she had this one clue, not one the FBI or Interpol would have been able to intercept, and it tied Assan to a location right here on Maui. And there was only one reason Assan would be here, out of all the places in the world where he could hide: he was still trying to capture her.
But not if she got to him first.
Could this be a trap? But if so, there was no way to know without checking it out, since the access code was the only lead she had. It was a pretty subtle clue, and Assan didn’t know about DAVID’s abilities unless he had a mole in the FBI or Security Solutions.
But no. She had to operate as if Ang knew about DAVID, knew what she would know, and might be setting up a trap. But this was also the first solid clue she’d had since his escape from federal custody.
She had to act on it, and she would. Tomorrow.
Twilight brought a waitress to light a candle on Sophie’s table. “Do you want to order something to eat?”
Sophie indulged in a savory crêpe, finished her tea, and walked back through the streets to the hostel. Her eyes scanned everywhere for threats as her hand rested on Mary Watson’s straw bag containing the laptop—and her Glock.
But she saw no one but happy tourists and preoccupied locals, and heard nothing but the swish of cars, barking of dogs, and shushing of coconut palms. The chatter of mynahs in a mango tree as they prepared to sleep caught her attention briefly, but her mind was preoccupied.
She was ready to talk to Connor. She needed to talk to him.
Sophie unlocked the humble hostel’s room, her hand already on the new burner phone she was using. She called Connor’s private cell. The phone rang and rang, ending in a mechanical voice mail. He wouldn’t answer because he didn’t recognize the number. Neither of them ever answered unknown numbers.
Sophie cleared her throat, deepened her voice, and covered her mouth with her hand to distort it further, broadening her British accent. “This is Mary Watson. You can reach me at this number regarding that matter we discussed.”
Connor would be home in his well-appointed Pendragon Arches apartment. He’d probably be on his computers, or maybe he was practicing his violin. Maybe he was running on the beach with Anubis, or doing overhead presses on the home gym he kept in his hidden office.
Sophie felt a pulse of desire, thinking of him, of what he was doing. She hated the Ghost and its hold on Connor, but she loved that it was him, too.
And now the Ghost had come back to haunt them, as she’d always feared it would.
Chapter Seven
The burner rang, vibrating on the cheap pressboard nightstand l
ike a bug in a bottle as she unloaded the straw bag, and she answered it. “Connor! Thanks for calling me back.”
“Where are you?” His voice was tense, pressured.
“Somewhere safe.” She glanced around the unprepossessing room of the hostel. “I hope.”
“I’m still on Maui. Let me come to you.” His voice softened. “Please. I need to see you.”
“Yes,” she breathed out a tension she hadn’t known she held. “Watch for surveillance, okay? And …look like someone else.”
“Of course.” That being asked to wear a disguise didn’t faze him a bit almost made Sophie smile. They were certainly two of a kind in some ways. She gave a location to meet in case their transmission was picked up.
Sophie walked the short distance to the beach park at Paia Bay, a moth-eaten patch of sunblasted grass marked by a colorfully painted cinder block bathroom and a basketball court. The nearby youth center was lit up for a skateboard event, and cars clustered willy-nilly around the area, all good camouflage for a clandestine meeting.
Sophie walked across the expanse of the park, and up a slight berm crowned with ironwood trees, alert to any followers. She took a spot in the shadow under the trees to watch the comings and goings in the park, glancing down onto the beach leading into the shallow bay. Moonlight glittered on waves beating on the sand, expending themselves over and over, a heartbeat that filled the background along with tinny rock music from the youth event.
Sophie scanned for Connor. They’d made a game of this before, in less serious circumstances, trying to sneak up on each other in some public place or tail each other. She spotted him, a slouching figure with a ball cap pulled low, walking with a group of teens—and then he jumped on one of the other kids’ boards at the sidewalk and skated off.
No, that was him, the bent-over, bearded tourist…but under the streetlamp, the disguise held up.
“Sophie.”
