Wired Rogue

by Toby Neal

  Sparks held a gun, pointed at Sophie—a chrome Beretta.

  The cult must have bought them in bulk on sale. The irrelevant thought appeared and seemed to hover, as if in a comment bubble, over Sophie’s head.

  I’m getting awfully tired of looking down the barrel of this particular model.

  Sparks had been concealed in one of the yurts whose door still hung open. They should have checked all the buildings to make sure that the compound was clear.

  So much for the therapeutic visit.

  Dunn is going to be so pissed.

  Each thought blipped through her mind separately.

  So this is the kind of stupid thing that you think about right before you die.

  “I’m sorry.” Sophie slowly raised her hands. “For whatever it is you think I’ve done.”

  The helicopter’s view of her position was blocked by one of the yurts. She flicked her gaze around, looking for Dunn. She had her weapon, but it was snapped into her shoulder holster and might as well be on another planet.

  “You killed him.” Sparks’s hands shook. She raised the pistol and tracked from Sophie’s head, to her chest, to her abdomen and back again as if unable to decide what to shoot first. “You killed the love of my life. My baby’s father.”

  “What do you mean? Jackson’s alive.” Sophie’s lips felt numb. The madness in the young woman’s eyes was somehow more terrifying than Dougal Sloane’s murderous intent.

  Someone had come to the door of the yurt. A man stood behind Sparks.

  “Jessie.” The resonant voice with its Scottish burr was smooth as cream liqueur. “Jessie, what are you doing?”

  “This woman killed Dougal.” Sparks’s hands trembled but her eyes were steel. Sophie could feel the young woman’s emotional instability oscillating around them like a force field.

  “Did I hear you say—Dougal was the love of your life?” Jackson was descending the stairs behind Sparks. “But you’re with me.”

  “No, no, I’m not. Never was. This is Dougal’s baby.” Sparks let go of the gun with one hand so the other could caress her rounded abdomen. “I slept with you so I wouldn’t get kicked out of the Society.”

  Jackson approached her, his voice flowing like oil over troubled waters, his gaze serene, as Sparks divided a glare between him and Sophie. “We can work all of this out. You shouldn’t stress yourself. It’s not good for the child. Perhaps it’s Dougal coming to join you again, when you give birth.”

  Sparks reared back in revulsion. “That’s totally perverted! You are a fake, Sandoval, and I’m done swallowing your lies!”

  She turned and shot Jackson, the report of the weapon shockingly loud.

  Sophie dove for the ground as the cult leader’s hands came up to clutch his neck, blood spurting between his fingers. Sparks spun back and shot the place where Sophie had just been standing.

  She fired again and again, screaming with rage, as Sophie rolled frantically—until the sound of another gunshot, much louder, silenced the onslaught.

  Jake Dunn, saving her again.

  Sparks’s wailing cry showed she was still alive. Sophie, face turned sideways in the soft loam of the gravesite, closed her eyes and murmured a prayer of gratitude.

  She turned her head at the thunder of Dunn’s footsteps passing and saw him kick the pistol away from Sparks’s foot as the woman screamed in outraged horror and pain. Even from where Sophie lay, she could see that Sparks was missing two fingers.

  “You okay?”

  “Good shot, Jake.” Sophie let Dunn pull her to her feet. “Good thing Sparks has terrible aim.”

  “Tell that to Sandoval Jackson.” Dunn gestured with his head to where Dr. Kinoshita and the pilot were vainly trying to administer first aid to the cult leader as he bled out messily. “We really screwed up not checking that the compound was clear.”

  “I know. Son of a two-headed yak. This could all have been prevented.” Sophie walked over to Sparks.

  The pregnant woman had collapsed to the ground, her bleeding hand wrapped in her skirt and pressed between her thighs. She’d stopped screaming, but her gaze up at Sophie was just as hate-filled as before.

  Sophie stared down at her. “I pity your child. It will be taken from you as soon as it’s born, while you serve a sentence for murder.”

  “Screw you,” Sparks hissed. “You don’t know true love.”

  No, Sophie didn’t—and if this was where it ended, she didn’t want to.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sophie tugged at her ex-FBI gray suit jacket as she left the Honolulu PD video conference room, where she’d just finished giving an official statement to Hilo PD regarding the death of Dougal Sloane and the events at the compound. The case was on its way to being officially ruled self-defense by the Honolulu investigators on their case, and her step was a little lighter leaving than it had been going in.

  Dunn had insisted on coming in with her for “moral support” even though the detectives interviewing her had made him wait outside. He fell in step with her as Sophie strode down the hall and out the front door of the Honolulu Police Department building. He’d been relentless in his attempts to get her back to work at Security Solutions. “Since you’re out and about, I was hoping you could come into the office for a few. I have someone who wants to see you.”

  Sophie stopped on the cement steps outside and turned to him, her heart kicking into overdrive. Would Connor show up at the Security Solutions building? It would be perfectly normal for him to do that, considering he was the boss.

  Light wind played with the few curls long enough to cover some of the scar on her head, but the damn skin graft hurt every time she went into the sun. Sophie fumbled in her oversized purse, smacked on her hat and pushed on her sunglasses. “Who is it?”

  “Our former client. Sharon Blumfield. Who were you expecting? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Sophie gave a snort of hysterical laughter. She’d hardly slept or eaten in the last couple of days with the depression so bad, the wrestling match in her mind so severe. She’d only been able to get herself together enough to come down to the station because the alternative was a bench warrant for her arrest.

  Dunn clapped her on the back.

  “Get it together, woman. This is a good thing. Come with me. I promise you’ll like it.”

  “Okay. Since you promise I’ll like it. I’ve had too many things I really didn’t like lately.”

  She followed Dunn down the steps and got into her vehicle. Dunn was refreshingly transparent and heavy-handed. Whatever else he was, there was no subterfuge in him—and subterfuge was something she’d had enough of.

  Sharon Blumfield met them in the reception area on the ground floor of the Security Solutions building, and she wasn’t alone.

  Her children, the boy, Lono and girl, Pele, who Sophie and Jake had rescued, put down comic books and stood to greet her—and two more children behind them also rose. Zeus, the thirteen-year-old boy she’d met at the retreat, and his sister Hera were brushed and scrubbed, wearing bright new clothing. Sophie came to a halt in front of the four kids and took off her sunglasses. “Hello. I’m Sophie Ang.”

  “And I’m Jake Dunn. Forget shaking hands. You can high-five.” Jake got Zeus to try it, along with a complicated fist-bump combination that made them all laugh. Ice broken, Sophie helped Sharon tug chairs into a rough circle.

  “You were Mary Watson at the Society. We wondered where you’d gone,” Zeus said, when they were all seated. “Dougal told me you didn’t like the yoga class and ran for the hills.”

  “That’s true, in a manner of speaking.”

  “What happened to your face?” Pele asked.

  “I got shot. This is a skin graft. They took skin from my hip and put it on my face.” Sophie smiled, hoping it wasn’t too scary of an effect, but their expressions weren’t encouraging. She turned back to their former client. “Ms. Blumfield, thanks so much for bringing the kids in to talk with us.”

 
“The least I could do. Zeus and Hera are going to live with us—their other relatives can’t care for them right now, and the therapist we’re all seeing suggested we all get some closure by seeing our rescuers in person—and the kids really wanted to see you again.”

  Dunn told the story of rescuing Lono and Pele to Zeus and Hera with many an embellishment—enough to make Sophie roll her eyes.

  “How do you feel about…Sandoval Jackson’s death?” Sophie asked.

  “Our father, you mean?” Zeus was perfectly composed. “He’s going to come back soon. Probably in the body of someone close by, so he can be near us.”

  Sophie met Blumfield’s gaze over the top of the boy’s head. The woman gave a slight headshake.

  “That’s good then,” Sophie said lamely. “So. Have you any questions for us?”

  “We want to see your equipment lab! All the stuff you have, like Batman!” Pele exclaimed.

  Sharon laughed. “The kids have been glutting themselves on TV since we all got outside. Old Batman reruns seemed harmless, and now the kids think Jake is Batman and Sophie is Catwoman.”

  “Not really. I just think you’re kind of like superheroes,” Pele said, ducking her head in embarrassment.

  “It so happens I’ve got a few things I can show you in our lab,” Dunn said. “Follow me.” He took off like the Pied Piper, the kids in pursuit.

  “I heard Sloane was the one who shot you,” Blumfield said.

  Sophie turned her face away from Blumfield’s gaze. “Yes.”

  “The man was a pig. I hated him.”

  “He’s dead now. And not coming back.” The memory of Sloane’s drowning body under her knee made her shudder.

  Blumfield set a hand on Sophie’s arm. “Your face will get better. And your heart will too. We just really wanted to thank you. All of the children are doing remarkably well in their new homes, with their grandparents and other relatives. I was delighted to take Zeus and Hera—my kids were so used to the group living situation that they cried for days, missing their brothers and sisters. We’re going to bring them all together often.”

  “It was very good to see you, to know there’s been a happy outcome for your family. Thank you.” Sophie said goodbye, and left. Dunn would track her down soon enough, probably sooner than she was ready for, as usual.

  She needed to go to the beach and unwind—and revisit the scene of the crime.

  She wasn’t going to let the hideous memory of what had happened there with Sloane ruin one of her favorite places in Honolulu.

  Sophie picked up Ginger from the pet sitter, and drove down to Ala Moana Beach Park.

  She used the restroom to change into some running clothes and pulled a billed hat down, slathering her face with sunscreen—not something she’d had to do in the past with her tawny complexion, but the plastic surgeon had warned her that the new skin was delicate and sensitive to the sun.

  Afternoon was cooling things down as Sophie leashed Ginger and moved out, picking up a slow jog in the deep warm sand.

  She passed the location of the attack. The crime scene tape they’d used to rope it off with was gone.

  There was nothing to mark the life-and-death struggle that had taken place there between Sophie and two men. Cool, calm turquoise water lapped against fine-grained sand, dimpled with thousands of happy tourist footprints.

  Sophie hit the break wall at the end of the beach and jogged back. She reversed and did it again. When she’d done the length of the beach four times and Ginger was panting and begging to go into the ocean, she peeled off the exercise clothes she’d worn over her bikini and went in, laughing as the Lab chased her. They swam and splashed, and finally Sophie grabbed Ginger’s tail and let the dog tow her into shallow water.

  Where would she be without Ginger? The dog brought so much laughter and surprise into her life, helping beat back the depression’s talons.

  She spread out her beach towel and lay down on her stomach, the hat back on, protecting her face. Ginger flopped beside her, tongue hanging out.

  Sophie just rested there for a long, sweet time.

  The late afternoon sun dried the water on her back. The sound of beachgoers laughing and playing in the gentle water and the breeze in the nearby monkeypod trees—all of it soothed her.

  She had a place of her own, interesting work, and friends. She was recovering well from her injuries, and she was discovering new things about herself: what she liked and what she didn’t, and she was making a life out from behind her computers.

  That didn’t mean she didn’t still love the tech world. She’d recently set up Ying, Amala, and JinJai, her computers, in the apartment—and the niggle of a new program idea had her playing with code for the first time in months.

  But the security concerns about using DAVID remained along with the unanswered consent questions. It was easier, for the moment, just to let DAVID rest awhile.

  She didn’t have to know exactly where she was going, or what came next.

  But she was lonely.

  She missed Connor.

  Todd.

  Sheldon.

  Whoever he was, she missed that brilliant, complicated, fascinating man who obviously played violin as well as all the other things he was able to do—if those callouses on his fingers were anything to go by.

  She wanted to hear him play violin.

  After days of wrestling with her conscience, she’d come to a decision.

  Sophie sat up on her elbows and dug into the pocket of her discarded nylon shorts, bringing out her phone. She clicked to the encoded site she used to communicate with the Ghost, and typed in a message.

  Been thinking a lot about our conversation. You were right. I’m a hypocrite.

  The little green cursor in the old-school DOS-style format pulsed at her, then green letters unspooled and her heart rate picked up.

  Took you long enough to admit it. Two whole days was way too long not to hear from you.

  A girl has her pride. I felt betrayed. But I’ve thought it through and I understand why you couldn’t tell me.

  Are you going to keep my secret?

  Sophie bit her lip. Yes. For now. Subject to review.

  I’ll take it, and thanks. I wish Todd had met you first. Everything would have been simpler.

  Would Todd have liked me as much as Sheldon did?

  Definitely. He’d have turned on his Aussie charm and swept you off your feet.

  I’m glad you’re both—because I never liked that accent much.

  A long pause. Ginger wriggled closer and snuffled against Sophie’s side, tickling her, and Sophie scratched under her chin.

  I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with the accent in public, because Todd is planning to ask you out. But it’s Connor you’ll really get to know, Mary Watson.

  Sophie’s fingers flew as she texted. That’s ‘Sophie Watson,’ to you. Bring Anubis down to the beach when you’re feeling better, and we’ll see where we go from there.

  It’s a start. I’ll be up and around soon.

  Thanks for taking a bullet for me, by the way.

  And thanks for saving my life. Things can only get better from here.

  Sophie smiled. “You’re right, Connor. Things can only get better from here.” She turned the phone off and lay back down to enjoy the last of the warm Waikiki afternoon sun, Ginger at her side.

  Acknowledgments

  Aloha dear readers!

  Thanks so much for coming along for another adventure with Sophie! I am already plotting and writing Wired Hard, Book 3 in the Paradise Crime Series, and it involves a nefarious plot on Maui to steal artifacts from a sacred buried royal Hawaiian island…But I get ahead of myself.

  I so enjoyed getting Sophie out of her computer cave and out into the field. When I began writing this book, I had an idea that I wanted more action, and a less “tech-heavy” plot (because, let’s face it, computers are not my area.) I was toying with the idea of getting her out of the FBI and working for a private firm…
but I had NO IDEA Jake Dunn would show up on the page, that he’d be such a powerful character and shake things up so much. Nor did I know that with the threat of her ex removed in Book 1, that Sophie would go into such an identity tailspin…but the twist at the end with the Ghost? Yeah, that was planned from book 1, and there are more surprises ahead!

  Some days I wake up and pinch myself. I have the best job in the world, creating characters that take on a life of their own and capture the hearts and minds of readers, taking them on a journey to amazing places they may never see—like the Waipio Valley, on the Big Island.

  Until next time, I’ll be in my “writing cave,” working on Wired Hard, book 3 in the Paradise Crime Series. Pop in and say hi on social media. I’m on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram!

  Much aloha, Toby Neal

  I hope you enjoyed Wired Rogue! If you think other readers will enjoy it too, please leave an honest review on Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Goodreads, or KOBO. Your thoughts matter so much, and I read them all!

  Much aloha, Toby Neal

  Want two FREE full length, award-winning books from Toby Neal? Click HERE!

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  Love romance thrillers? Check out Toby Neal & Emily Kimelman’s hot new apocalyptic Scorch Series HERE!

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  Read on for a sample of the next book in the series!

  Excerpt Wired Hard

  Chapter 4

  Two nights later, Sophie was sitting in a semi-trance watching the monitors when one of the sensor lights went off, accompanied by a loud banging on the metal gate of the site’s fenced enclosure. “Sophie!”

  Sophie was already on her feet. She started in surprise at the sight of her partner at Security Solutions, Jake Dunn, in the monitor. His all-black, combat-ready clothing projected an intimidating message, as did his height and build—but his ready grin was pure masculine charm.