Wired Justice
Page 24
Sophie raised her brows in question.
Jake indicated Tank, sitting on the sidewalk, panting and looking a little ridiculous in his plastic collar. “I have a new roommate. We’re going to be spending a lot of bro time. But if you ever need anything, I’ll be waiting.”
“I hope you won’t be waiting long. I’ll be in touch as soon as I know what I’m doing next.”
Then Sophie stepped forward and pulled him down for a kiss that he would spend his nights remembering.
<<<>>>
Acknowledgments
Aloha dear readers!
Thanks so much for joining me for this latest installment of Sophie’s journey into the mysteries of the Big Island’s crime scene, and her own mission to understand justice and the path of self-discovery!
It was such a treat to be in Jake’s head. Jacob Sean Overstreet Dunn is growing as a person, and it’s often a painful process—but in doing so, Jake is becoming a man who really could be a contender for Sophie’s heart and might well hold the key to helping heal her.
Freitan and Wong had a bigger role than I first imagined. I met Kamani Freitan for the first time in Unsound (Dr. Wilson’s story) some years ago, and remembered thinking then that it would be fun to “work with her” again in the future. The scenes where she made Jake squirm were fun to write, because in my own life I’ve experienced a good deal of sexual harassment at different jobs and been able to do exactly nothing about it. I’ve known men like Jake, who think their innuendoes are compliments. Those scenes were my moments of imagining a glorious comeuppance that teaches a guy a lesson he actually learns from—something I’ve never seen happen in real life, alas. But that’s part of why we love fiction, isn’t it?
Sophie’s mother appearing and introducing a whole new direction for the series was an exciting development that wasn’t in the initial outline of this book, and hopefully you aren’t too frustrated that we only introduced Pim Wat and her mysterious organization and didn’t resolve all the questions it raised. I’m super excited to see where this exploration of a major element of Sophie’s life and past takes her next. Many of the questions raised in this book will be answered in the next, so hang in with me for the next chapter of this epic journey!
Thanks go out to my awesome support team, and to you, my readers. You keep me coming to the keyboard with excitement and passion; your reviews, comments, sharing and interaction encourage and uplift me. The life of a writer is a quiet and sometimes lonely one; but all I have to do to know that my writing matters is to open my email or check in with my Facebook Friends group, and I know we’re in this together.
If you enjoyed Wired Justice, please leave a review on your favorite retailer. They mean so much, so I thank you with a big MAHALO in advance.
Until next time, I’ll be writing!
Toby Neal
Turn the page for a sample chapter of Wired Secret, Book 7 in the Paradise Crime Series!
Excerpt Wired Secret
Paradise Crime #7
Sometimes justice wasn't fair.
Security specialist Sophie Ang stared with dislike at the twitchy blonde woman on the bed in the jail's infirmary. Swelling distorting Holly Rayme’s face had gone down in the week since Sophie had seen her last. The woman’s face was back to gaunt, blotchy with the green and yellow of fading bruising.
If justice were fair, Holly Rayme would be dead right now. Instead, she was getting out of jail—but at least, not free.
"I am in hell." Rayme picked at a scab on the back of her hand as she addressed Sophie, Detective Kamani Freitan, and Hazel Matsue, a U.S. Marshal brought in to interview her for inclusion in the national Witness Security program. “You have to get me out of here.”
"Things can actually get a lot worse for you," Freitan said with her usual bluntness. Freitan, a tall, voluptuous mixed Hawaiian woman, exuded volatility. Ancient Hawaiian chieftesses had accompanied their men into battle, and in another age, Freitan would have been perfectly in character carrying a club ringed with sharks’ teeth instead of the police issue Glock she currently wore. "You've been hiding out here in the infirmary, in a soft bed with protection. Your own TV, even. But if that protection is going to continue, we need to know you understand what this is all about."
"Yep. This is all about me testifying against the Changs. Helping you bring down a crime family." Rayme’s watery blue eyes blinked. "I had to go through detox this week in this supposed comfy bed with my own TV. You think that wasn't hell?"
"You drug, you lose. And it would have been a lot worse out in general pop," Freitan retorted.
"We know you've been through a hard time, Holly." Sophie stepped forward to defuse the tension between the two as Marshal Matsue looked on, arms folded. "But you had medical support, and you’re through the worst of it. You’re fortunate. Ms. Matsue here is willing to take you into protective custody, provide you with a new identity, and relocate you until you can testify. You won't have to be in jail at all."
"Yes. I'm here to interview you and explain the program." Matsue was a slender woman with a triangular face. Though she wore black pants, a white shirt and a black vest whose purpose was to conceal her sidearm, Matsue had an innate style that set her apart, conveyed by deep red lipstick and an angular, asymmetrical bobbed haircut. She would have looked as completely at home in Paris or Madrid as she did in this dingy room with its bloom of ceiling mold and smell of Lysol. "Do you understand why you've been referred to the Witness Security program, Ms. Rayme? And that you must comply with our procedures and directives? The U.S. Marshal Service has a one hundred percent success rate at protecting our clients if they follow WITSEC directions and protocols."
"I don't see that I have much choice," Rayme grumbled. "I mean, look at me. Broken ribs, bruised all over my body. I’m lucky to be alive. My boyfriend Jimmy isn't, and I won’t be if I don’t stick with you guys. I know that much."
Jim Webb and Holly Rayme had been scooped up in an investigation Sophie had just completed that had resulted in the apprehension the Chang family's sadistic enforcer, Akane Chang. Webb had not survived an attack in the general population of the jail once the couple’s importance as witnesses became evident.
“I have some paperwork for you to fill out and forms for you to sign.” Matsue handed the paperwork on a clipboard to Rayme. “Once we have this done, we can process you out of here.”
"Can I turn this prisoner over to your custody?" Freitan asked. “I’ve got work to do.”
“Shortly.” Matsue addressed Sophie. “Why are you a part of these proceedings?”
“I work for a private firm, Security Solutions. My services have been retained by a coalition of Chang’s victims’ families.” Sophie’s ongoing attachment to the case had been a new development. She and her partner Jake Dunn had wrapped the contract to find a missing girl, and she’d tried to resume the vacation and hiking trip she’d come to the Big Island for. Only days later, she was contacted by her employer to assist in security and support for Holly Rayme. “The families of Akane Chang’s victims contracted with Security Solutions to pay for my services to support regular law enforcement.”
“The U.S. Marshal Service does not work with private entities,” Matsue said frostily.
“You want to work with this chick,” Freitan said. “She’s former FBI and a computer wizardess. Can’t hurt to have her in your back pocket.”
“And she’s a badass bitch with a mean left hook,” Rayme volunteered from the bed. “I happen to know. She and her partner were the ones to find out our part in the hustle with Akane Chang. I’m only saying anything nice because her partner adopted our dog, and I want to stay alive. She can help keep me alive.”
Endorsement by these unlikely allies almost made Sophie smile. “I am on retainer, and available to help and support. If you choose not to work with me, I will help from the sidelines. We should at least talk so I can explain how my skill set might be of use to you.” Sophie held Matsue’s skeptical gaze.
�
�Well, if that’s all, I’ve got perps to bust and the day’s a-wasting,” Freitan said. “See you ladies at the trial.” She turned and headed for the door, and as her hand touched the knob, an alarm ululated outside. The dome light out in the hallway began spinning, throwing red beams across Freitan. The muffled crack of a gunshot sounded out in the hall.
“Shit!” Freitan drew her weapon and flattened herself against the doorjamb, reaching over to turn the heavy silver bolt, locking the door. “We need to stay in here and guard the prisoner.”
“Lower the blind over the window, Detective!” Matsue barked. “Ms. Rayme, get down off the bed and behind some cover!”
Sophie, as a civilian, had surrendered her Glock upon entering the jail and she felt its loss keenly as she helped Rayme, groaning and exclaiming, down off the bed. Freitan pulled the plastic retractable blind down over the bulletproof observation window as Matsue joined her, weapon drawn.
“I’ve had experience with an attack in a room like this. These beds make good cover.” Sophie maneuvered the heavy metal hospital bed sideways into a horizontal position facing the window. “Stay back here with me,” she told Rayme.
Steps thundered outside in the hallway. More shots rang out. Yelling added to the cacophony of the alarm. Sophie fumbled her phone out of her pocket. She had upgraded recently to a satellite phone, but when she thumbed it on, No Service showed in the window. “Foul stench of a week-old corpse.”
“What’s that you’re saying?” Rayme whispered. Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were wide in her multicolored face. “I’m scared too.”
“I curse in Thai, my native tongue,” Sophie said. “More variety that way.” She held up her phone. “Either of you getting a signal?”
“Nope,” Freitan said. “But reception’s never good in here.”
“I can usually get a few bars. This is weird,” Matsue said. The women bracketed the covered window, weapons drawn.
Sophie’s heart rate was up, but she wasn’t unduly alarmed. Three highly trained professionals, two of them armed, were barricaded in with Holly Rayme, and it was likely this disturbance was not even related to their prisoner. She smiled reassuringly at Rayme. “Try to stay calm. We’ve got you covered.”
More gunshots and the thunder of feet in the hallway were not reassuring. Neither was the shout, “she’s in the infirmary. Just start trying doors!”
The knob rattled. The door shook under pounding with some metal object as the impacts sent medical supplies piled on the shelves falling to the floor.
Rayme let out a squeal of fear after one particularly loud crash, moving to clutch Sophie. Sophie wrapped her arms around the trembling woman and covering Rayme’s mouth with a hand. “Don’t let them hear you,” she whispered in Rayme’s ear.
A flash of memory.
Sophie was the one being held in someone’s arms. A hand covered her mouth, and a desperate voice whispered, “don’t let them hear you.”
Suppressed memory came flooding back, and Sophie’s arms tightened around Rayme.
The woman holding her had been her beloved nanny, Armita.
Armita had fought like a tigress when kidnappers broke into seven-year-old Sophie’s room, screaming and beating at the men with a broom. Sophie’s last sight of Armita had been the nanny, head bleeding, sprawled on the ground as masked men in black carried Sophie away.
She had never seen Armita again.
After the ransom was paid and Sophie was returned, Mother told her Armita had quit because she didn’t want to work at a place where she’d be in danger.
Armita had been hurt because of Sophie; and she’d left because of Sophie.
Self-blame had been a heart-splinter of Sophie’s ever since. As Sophie held Holly Rayme’s trembling, sweating body in her arms, she let it go. Not her fault. Just a child.
Another missing piece from her past to ask her mother about. Her mother, Pim Wat… Now that was a topic for another day.
The heavy crash of something metal hitting the covered viewing window made Sophie hunch instinctively over Rayme, protecting the woman with her body as the intruders bashed at the safety glass window, bowing it in and shattering it.
Sophie peeked over their crude barrier. Two lean, dark men in prison orange filled the window’s opening, shoving aside the dangling blind with their hands, pushing the sheet of glass, held together by wire, out of the way.
And then Freitan and Matsue were up and firing. Sophie and Rayme curled close, covering their ears as they hid behind the bed.
Ringing ears assaulted by gunfire in a small, enclosed space.
Curses and screams.
The burning tang of weapons discharge.
A long moment passed as silence fell, broken by Rayme’s sobbing. Sophie lifted her head to peer out from cover. Matsue and Freitan stood in identical shooting stances, aiming their weapons at the crude opening in the window.
More running, yelling, and gunfire out in the hall, this time passing by. No further incursions.
“Suspects are down.” Freitan clicked the deadbolt open. “I’m going to see what’s happening.” She was out the door before Matsue could object.
The Marshal turned wide, tilted brown eyes upon Sophie. “You two okay?”
“Yes.” Sophie tried her phone again. “The jammer is off. I’ve got a signal.”
She dialed 911 and was told that backup was on its way and the riot was almost under control.
Rayme wriggled out of Sophie’s arms and adjusted her gaping hospital gown. “Thanks. Almost seemed like you cared, for a moment there.”
“I always do the right thing, no matter how I feel about someone personally,” Sophie said. Rayme’s mouth turned down. The woman crawled back up onto the bed, and pulled the sheet up over her head.
Matsue came to stand over Sophie. “If what you just said is true, then we will get along just fine.” She turned to Holly Rayme, still hidden under the sheet. “Your application to WITSEC is hereby approved.”
* * *
Preorder Wired Secret, Paradise Crime #7,
releasing May 22, 2018
About the Author
Kirkus Reviews calls Neal's writing, "persistently riveting. Masterly."
Award-winning, USA Today bestselling social worker turned author Toby Neal grew up on the island of Kaua`i in Hawaii. Neal is a mental health therapist, a career that has informed the depth and complexity of the characters in her stories. Neal's police procedurals, starring multicultural detective Lei Texeira, explore the crimes and issues of Hawaii from the bottom of the ocean to the top of volcanoes, and are so popular that they've spawned a licensed fan fiction world on Amazon. Fans call her stories, "Immersive, addicting, and the next best thing to being there."
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