Wired Strong: Vigilante Justice Thriller Series (Paradise Crime Thriller Book 12)

by Toby Neal

  “I’m sorry, Marcella, I worked all night on the computers for our latest investigation, and I just woke up from a nap in my office. I’m afraid I have to keep going with this project.”

  Sophie had been so conscientious about her health during her pregnancy with Momi. “Are you sure keeping those kinds of hours are good for the baby?”

  “Whatever keeps me calm and not too stressed is what’s good for the baby,” Sophie said. “And at the moment I’m avoiding my father.”

  Marcella’s attention sharpened. “What did he do now?”

  “I found out he was aiding and abetting the investigation into Connor, so I’ve been staying away from the apartment since I found out. It’s impossible to be around him and not be angry. I don’t know if I can hide that, and I’m not sure confronting him is the right thing to do right now. Currently, he doesn’t know that I know he was involved with that investigation— and two agents tried to grab me the other night! I’m in full avoidance mode at the moment. I feel safest at the office.” She yawned.

  Marcella’s mind raced—if Sophie found out Marcella was on that task force, it could be the end of their friendship! “I’m sure your dad only did that to try to protect you.”

  “I believe that, too. But I don’t appreciate his interference. He thinks that he knows what’s best for me and my relationships.”

  Marcella felt Sophie’s words penetrate. “You see that as betrayal.”

  A long pause, then Sophie sighed. “I just wish that he would talk to me about his concerns, instead of manipulating things behind my back. If he did, I could assess whether or not going along with his plans was a good idea. Of course, I have concerns about what Connor is doing. I would never contribute to his capture because of our friendship, but Pim Wat or the Master? I would absolutely help bring them in if I got a chance. I’m sure that this team is actually much more interested in capturing Pim Wat than Connor.”

  Her comment was a golden opportunity for Marcella. “Well, how about lunch? You have to eat, and I have something important I want to talk to you about.” Marcella still couldn’t take the chance that the phone was tapped, and this was the kind of conversation she wanted to have in person, anyway.

  “Let’s get together at our favorite noodle place,” Sophie said. “It’s been too long since we went there.”

  “Yay!” Marcella clapped her hands. “As long as you didn’t suggest my parents’ restaurant, I’m down.” Marcella’s Italian parents ran a breakfast and lunch place that did a brisk business in the heart of Waikiki.

  “Your parents’ food is excellent, but they also love to stop by the table every five minutes.”

  “That’s exactly the problem.” They firmed up their plan of meeting for a meal before the noodle place got busy, and Marcella ended the call.

  She felt a little better. She would lay it all out in front of Sophie, and let the chips fall where they may. That way, no matter what else happened from there, Sophie couldn’t say that Marcella hadn’t been honest with her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Marcella

  Marcella had arrived at the noodle house a little early. She scanned the long room with its row of simple, brown Naugahyde booths and a polished wooden bar that the cooks worked behind.

  A wave of grief hit her unexpectedly: she’d met Jake for the first time at this very place when she was here last. Sophie’d called him to meet them for a meal, and Jake had walked in with all the energy of a thunderhead blowing across the horizon, and the charm of his grin had been the lightning.

  Jake had been a man who was hard to ignore. She remembered the reluctant tingle of attraction she’d felt as he shook her hand. She was happily married to a very sexy man, and still, Jake had affected her.

  Would there ever be someone like him again? There was no answer to that. Jake had been here, he had brightened up the freakin’ planet, and now he was gone. No wonder Sophie was so happy about being pregnant. Maybe their child would have a little of that same dynamic energy. And if not, that was fine too. Jake would always be remembered.

  “Sit anywhere,” the cook called out, his face shiny with heat in the shade of a cocked paper chef’s hat.

  Marcella pulled herself together and chose a booth at the back. Highly unlikely that anyone from either of their cases would show up to listen in on this conversation, but it was better that the restaurant was empty.

  Marcella was sipping a glass of iced tea when Sophie came in. Her friend’s bright brown eyes found Marcella’s across the room—and then her gaze dimmed, as Sophie was slammed by the same memory Marcella’d had.

  Maybe this café had not been a good choice after all.

  Sophie walked over and sat down across from Marcella. Her beautiful scarred face had settled into a familiar neutral mask. “It’s been a long time since I had these noodles.” Sophie picked up the slightly greasy laminated menu, but Marcella could tell she wasn’t reading it.

  Marcella reached a hand across the table to take Sophie’s.

  “I’m sorry that I brought you here. I forgot that the last time we ate here, Jake was with us.”

  Sophie nodded, but she didn’t look up. Her glass had beaded with moisture and a wedge of lemon floated on top. She picked it up and took a sip. “Thank you for ordering me fresh water.”

  Marcella let go of Sophie’s hand. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be having caffeine.”

  “I can’t do without my morning cup of tea, but I’m cutting down the rest of the day.” Sophie set the menu aside as the cook came over.

  “Nice to see you ladies again. Been a while. You going up against any interesting contenders, Sophie?”

  Another thing Marcella had forgotten—the cook followed Sophie’s amateur MMA fighting.

  Sophie shook her head. “Those days are over for me. I’m having a baby.”

  The man’s face broke into a wide grin. “Sweet! Your noodles are on the house.” He switched his attention to Marcella. “Yours, however, are not.”

  Marcella laughed. “I’ll remember that when I’m pregnant,” she teased, shaking a finger at him. “You know what I like. The everything-on-it saimin bowl.”

  “And I’ll have the Thai curry noodles,” Sophie said.

  “Uh-huh, the usual.” He made a note on his pad, and bustled off.

  Marcella took a fortifying sip of her iced tea. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m glad to have a new case to keep me from obsessing too much on things that cannot be changed.” Sophie shrugged. “I won’t bore you with the forensic accounting details. You?”

  “We’ve got cases rolling around the office, but then we always do. I want to talk to you about my current investigation. That’s why I asked for this get-together.” Marcella took another sip of her tea, and met Sophie’s eyes. “I’m on the task force that is trying to bring in Connor, Pim Wat, and the Master.”

  Sophie froze, her eyes widening. “I presume you have a reason for that.”

  “I’ve made no secret of believing Connor is a dangerous criminal who has the capacity to derail your life. His activities have already caused you stress, and the risk of being caught up in the manhunt for him is dangerous. I’m doing this because I love you and want you to be safe.”

  Sophie frowned. “We agreed to disagree about my relationship with him. I thought you trusted my judgment.”

  “I do trust your judgment. But he’s in deep with your mother, whom neither of us trust, and the Master—God only knows what his agenda is.” Marcella drew a breath and mustered her thoughts. “Even if Connor has good intentions toward you, and I believe that, based on how he rescued you and Jake when no one else could—I just think he’s in too deep with those other two, and they are dangerous as hell.” Marcella took a sip of iced tea, holding up a hand to pause Sophie’s response. “I’ll cut to the chase, because I don’t want this talk to degenerate into an argument. I would like to see if you can turn Connor to help us. Have him capture Pim Wat for the task force. The Master, too,
though honestly, the team has little or no proof of wrongdoing against that man, though they suspect he’s behind several government coups. They would be content with capturing Pim Wat. I have a green light to negotiate immunity for Connor, if he can bring her in.” Marcella met Sophie’s eyes. “Connor could be a free man. Reinstated in the United States under his real identity—whatever that is.”

  Sophie’s gaze was intense. “You realize you’re asking me to betray my mother, and the equivalent of my stepfather.”

  “That woman snatched your newborn infant and killed six men who were trying to rescue her!” Marcella exclaimed; her voice raised enough that other guests who had begun filling the restaurant looked in their direction. Marcella pulled herself together and leaned forward across the table. “You told me that she and the Master came to Phi Ni to ask your forgiveness and make peace. But do you really think she meant it? Do you really think that the baby you carry is safe from her?”

  “No,” Sophie whispered. Her tawny skin had paled as the conversation progressed. One of her hands slid down protectively over her abdomen. “No. I don’t trust my mother to have my best interests at heart.”

  “As long as that woman breathes air on this planet, you and those you love are in danger,” Marcella said. “I’m speaking hard truths today, Soph. Pim Wat is a cancer that needs to be cut out.”

  “I know that,” Sophie said. “I wanted to believe that she meant her words on the island. But there was something . . . something not right about it. I do know one thing. She will not be taken alive. She tried to kill herself when I captured her before, by throwing herself down a flight of stairs. That’s what ruined her face.”

  “And this is not just about you and your children. Didn’t Pim Wat swear that she’d kill Armita, too?”

  “Yes.” Sophie’s nanny had been Pim Wat’s handmaid for close to twenty years. She’d taken Momi from Pim Wat and returned the baby to Sophie, an act Pim Wat considered betrayal.

  The two women stared at each other. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to be honest,” Sophie said.

  Two large, savory bowls of noodles arrived at the perfect time, emitting delicious smells and wafts of steam. The cook patted Sophie on the shoulder. “I expect to see all of that gone.”

  “I can eat this portion with little difficulty.” Sophie picked up her chopsticks and spoon, and dove in.

  Marcella did the same. For a good five minutes there was no sound but that of them slurping, sipping, and chewing. The knot of anxiety in Marcella’s chest began to loosen.

  Finally, Sophie spoke. “I’ll check our secret chat room and see if Connor has responded to my message about cutting him off. I will feel my way forward to see if there is an opening to share this opportunity.” She raised her eyes to meet Marcella’s. “You know that this is a very dangerous plan. The Master and Pim Wat are formidable enemies.”

  “I know.” Marcella grasped Sophie’s hand, heartened. “And I’m sorry. For all of it. No one should have to bear what you have had to.”

  “And yet, still I thrive.” Sophie smiled. “I am finding happiness in the little things. Satisfaction in my work, and in the friends who remain, like you. Yes, I still grieve for Jake, but my life is full, and I’m grateful for that.”

  Marcella squeezed Sophie’s hand. “Life isn’t over until it’s over, and you seem to have extra angels looking out for you.”

  “You are one of them.” Sophie lifted Marcella’s hand and gave her knuckles a quick kiss.

  Sophie was usually so undemonstrative. She didn’t even like hugging. “Don’t get soft on me,” Marcella growled. “Finish your noodles.”

  Sophie nodded, and resumed eating.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sophie

  Refreshed by her nap and lunch with Marcella, Sophie returned to the basement, diving into the hard drive belonging to the main bookkeeper at Peerless Accounting.

  From that rig’s accounting file, she had been able to access the software connected to the main bank account of Kama`aina Schools. Running her DAVID software through that, searching for keywords that detected uneven ratios, she had been able to identify a series of small amounts of random numbers tied to the “office costs” column in the Peerless accounting software that looked like they could be the skimmed funds.

  Where were those small amounts going? They were not flowing to any particular retailer. Rather, they looked computer-generated to her, a line item in random-created amounts that were not being closely tracked. DAVID concurred with a strong affirmative probability ratio, that the amounts were artificially randomized, and not associated with “real” purchases, which tended to follow established patterns.

  Sophie stood up and stretched, which she did every half hour by following a phone alarm prompt. This time, her device toned an incoming call, and she checked the ID window.

  She picked up for Raveaux. “I’m glad that you called. I’ve noticed a consistent anomaly in the Kama`aina Schools’ records.”

  “A consistent anomaly. What an interesting turn of phrase.” Sophie could hear the humor in Raveaux’s voice. “Have you been there since I left this morning? It’s five p.m.”

  “I took a break for lunch and the rest that you suggested.” Sophie’s stomach gave a loud rumble. “I do have to wrap it up for the day, and go get something to eat.”

  “That is why I called. I have a dinner I’m preparing, and you told me that you would eat my food, again, if you were invited.”

  Sophie paused. She didn’t want to encourage Raveaux; give him the wrong idea about whether she was interested in him. But how could he possibly be interested in her, a grieving pregnant woman? She probably didn’t need to worry about that.

  She must have taken too long to answer, because Raveaux said, “Heri Leede will also be there. We can catch up on the case so far.”

  “That is perfect. I am so hungry. I had noodles earlier today, but they seemed to have burned off.” Sophie leaned over and her fingers flew on the keyboard as she began shutting down programs. “Are you still at that same address in Waikiki?”

  Sophie knocked at the door of Raveaux’s apartment in the hotel district of downtown. He didn’t answer right away, so she glanced around, taking in the bright ornamental plantings and the gleam of the ocean reflected in a window nearby. Even in the evening, a feeling of happy excitement filled the air of Waikiki. This area was the heart of the tourist zone on Oahu, and it beat to the rhythm of visitors and their vacation happiness.

  Raveaux opened the door. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, something he rarely did because the scars on his arms showed—and a plain white canvas apron over slacks. His brown eyes crinkled with that almost-smile.

  “Good to see you, Sophie.” He stepped forward to kiss her cheeks quickly in the French way.

  She chuckled as she returned the buss. “You’re very continental tonight, Pierre.”

  “Mais oui. My cooking persona.” Raveaux exaggerated his accent and made a bow, gesturing with the wooden spoon he held. “Please, come in.”

  Sophie brushed past him to enter the immaculately clean, simply furnished apartment.

  Heri Leede was already seated on the couch, looking pretty in a floral dress. She had hidden a nice figure under her matronly garb for their first meeting. Her old lady glasses were also gone, and she looked twenty years younger than she had when Sophie last saw her. “Heri! I was happy to hear you were coming for dinner as well. I have news for you about what I’ve discovered on the computers.”

  “Please, ladies. Can we enjoy dinner and talk business afterward?” Raveaux handed Sophie a brimming glass of Perrier with lime and ice. “I prepared you my favorite drink.”

  Sophie took the glass. “Perfect.”

  “Yes, Pierre, I’m in favor of food first, business later, as well.” Leede lifted a glass of red wine. “To French chefs disguised as investigators.”

  They sipped. “I don’t know what to talk about, then,” Sophie said, sitting down next to the other w
oman. Raveaux had gone back to stirring at the stove.

  Heri smiled. “Tell me about what you do outside of work.”

  Sophie considered for a moment. “I am the mother of a toddler, but Momi is gone every other month. When she is here in Honolulu, I go to work at Security Solutions to focus on administration, and take care of her with my nanny’s help. When she is not, I take new cases. I go running. I enjoy technological challenges. A simple existence.” She sipped her Perrier. “You?”

  “Oh, I stay busy. I try to make the most of having moved all this way to Hawaii,” Leede said. “I’m part of a very active hula halau. When we aren’t practicing new dances, I’m learning Hawaiian language and crafts. Right now, I’m making my own ipu.”

  “What is that again?”

  “A dried gourd used for percussion. I’m drying mine at the moment, and working on the design I will carve on it when it’s ready.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Sophie said. “I did not know foreigners were welcome in such cultural activities.”

  “It depends on the kumu, or teacher, and the purpose of the group. My halau is mostly geared toward education and preservation of the culture. Thus, they welcome people from other places,” Leede said. “You should come to one of our practices. See if you’d like to be a part of it.”

  “I’d enjoy a visit, but given the small amount of free time I have, I don’t see involvement as an option.”

  “Dinner is ready,” Raveaux said. “We’ll serve ourselves here at the counter, and take our plates out onto the lanai so we can enjoy the sunset—it’s about time for that.”

  They filled their plates with a savory ragout, wild rice, and fresh sautéed snow peas. Leede exclaimed over everything in appreciation to the point that Sophie felt her praise would be excessive, but she ate all of her portion and went back for more. She would have eaten a third plateful if there had been any left.