by Toby Neal
Sophie
Sophie had gone back to the office, while Leede and Raveaux went to the school to share what they’d learned about Conrad and his mother with the leadership there.
Sophie’s phone sounded with the unique tone she had set up to notify her of a communication from Connor in their secret chat room. She picked up the device and thumbed to its hidden icon.
The picture on the screen made the color drain from her cheeks. A wave of dizziness swamped her. She reached for her desk, and lowered herself into her chair.
Sophie was glad to be seated as she took in the gory photo of the Master, lying on his back, dead of stab wounds—too many to count, as if whoever had done it had gone a little berserk.
She forced herself to look away and read the message in the green DOS text that accompanied the photo. “I killed him. Pim Wat escaped.”
Sophie swallowed.
Whatever she had expected that Connor would do, it wasn’t anything this violent. Who was he becoming? More than ever, she didn’t know.
Would they pin it on Pim Wat? An army of ninjas would be after her, and they wouldn’t stop until she was dead. All Sophie would need to do was wait for her mother to be killed.
Sophie had to let Marcella and the team know. They could begin drafting the immunity agreement for Connor.
“No, no. No.”
Connor was hunting her mother, and granted, there was good reason for that. But could she be with someone who killed like this? Connor’s list of kills was already long and grim, but this looked like pure, rage-fueled murder.
But who was Sophie to judge? She’d brought down her ex-husband in a scene just as grisly as the one in the photo.
She and Connor were both wounded people, smirched with blood, touched by murder. They had never wanted to be those people, but the facts remained.
Sophie didn’t know what she felt about it, but it wasn’t good.
But Sophie was a mother now. She wanted to spend her days solving interesting puzzles like this latest case and caring for her children, not looking over her shoulder for her assassin mother to leap onto her back and kill her.
She got up and went to the workout area in the corner of her office. She got out the jump rope, and, in her easy movement clothes, flipped the rope.
The rhythm was like a heartbeat, but the weight jumping felt too strenuous on her uterus, so she moved over to the treadmill, set at a steep angle.
She inclined the treadmill to maximum uphill, and walked and walked with long lunging steps until her heart rate evened out, and the queasy surge of horror generated by the photo began to ebb.
Sophie adjusted the treadmill to an even level, and phoned her friend. She didn’t let Marcella even greet her. “Marcella, I have news.”
“Good news, I hope?”
“I don’t know what kind of news it is. He killed the Master. Pim Wat escaped. That’s all I know.”
A short, charged silence. Then, “What can I do? What do you need?”
“I’m not sure I want Connor to have immunity anymore.” Sophie rolled her lips inward and bit them. Where had that come from?
“I will take this back to the team,” Marcella said briskly. “It’s out of your hands now. Don’t worry about it.” She ended the call.
“Foul daughter of a cancerous buffalo!” Sophie swore. This chain of events was out of control—but what about Pim Wat on the loose? She had to warn Armita.
Sophie called her nanny on Kaua`i and briefed her. “I want you to be on high alert. Put Alika on, please.”
She filled her child’s father in on the series of events. “If you can get some extra security out at your house, maybe even take Armita and Momi somewhere off the grid, it might be a good idea for the next few days. I wouldn’t put it past Pim Wat to try to grab our child.”
“That’s some grandma our baby girl has,” Alika said, his voice tight with tension. “I know just the place.”
Sophie was relieved as she ended the call. Hopefully, Pim Wat wouldn’t get far.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Marcella:
Day 10
Marcella carried an extra-large cup of black coffee into the FBI’s conference room early the next morning. Her SAC, Waxman, was already seated at the head of the conference table with the communication monitor up in front of him. He gave a nod. “Looking ready for action, I see, Agent Scott.”
“Always, sir.” Marcella seated herself at his right hand. In a few moments, agents Pillman and Gundersohn entered. A heaviness of dread and anxiety hit Marcella every time she looked at those two. Gundersohn wasn’t bad, on his own, but when he got together with Pillman, the other man’s deeply negative perspective seemed to rub off on him.
She opened her phone and forwarded the grisly photo of the dead Thai man known as the Master to each of their devices. “This is why I asked for a meeting.”
Waxman’s pale brows rose. “A messy one.”
“Sophie got this from Connor last night. This victim is the man they call the Master. I sent it to each of you so that we could discuss the situation before we reach out to the international part of the team,” Marcella said. “I thought you’d appreciate a heads-up first.”
“The number of stab wounds seems excessive,” Gundersohn said in his pedantic way.
No one had any response to that statement of the obvious.
“Who killed him?” Pillman asked.
“Connor told Sophie that he did. She got another communication that they’re pinning the murder on Pim Wat. She escaped from the compound after the confrontation. Assassin teams are searching for her.”
Waxman opened his hands to the group. “Well? What do we think? Does Connor deserve an immunity deal for doing wet work for us in Thailand?”
Pillman tightened his lips. “I don’t want that vigilante murderer anywhere near the United States.”
Gundersohn knit his heavy brow. “We should wait to offer the deal until he nails Pim Wat, as well. Of the two, we want Pim Wat more.”
Waxman inclined his head “I concur that Pim Wat’s an important target. Not only did she escape our custody, but we have a number of assassinations that we can trace back to her. The Master has always been a shadow behind the scenes—he’s probably had a hand in things, but Pim Wat was the executioner, if you’ll pardon the pun. Let’s put this latest news out to the larger team, and hear what they have to say.”
The meeting with their international partners was mercifully brief.
Marcella left the conference room with a tension headache building behind her eyes. The consensus of the group had been that, while they were glad the Master was dead, they still wanted to see Pim Wat’s head on a platter, too. Connor wasn’t going to be getting any thanks from the group until he brought in an additional trophy.
The whole thing made Marcella sick. She hadn’t gotten into law enforcement to make deals involving murder and assassination.
“Some people just need killing,” she muttered. “But I don’t have to like it.”
Having to look at the Master’s mutilated body for the last twenty minutes and knowing the man who’d done it made the coffee go sour in her belly.
Sophie wasn’t going to be happy with this news. “Or maybe she will be,” Marcella murmured.
In any case, Marcella needed an exercise break to slough off the disgust and horror that seemed smeared onto her skin ever since she’d received that ugly image. She changed quickly into workout clothes in the women’s locker room, and took the stairs all the way to the top of the roof.
The Bureau maintained a helipad and a running track around the edge of the building. She did a few laps, taking in the bold blue sky, the high white cumulus clouds soaring across the ocean, a few seabirds wheeling by. All of it helped to lighten her mood. Nature was a tonic through any kind of stress.
She slowed to a walk, thumbed to Sophie’s number on her favorites, and called her friend.
Sophie’s voice sounded raspy with sleep when she answe
red. “Hello? Marcella?”
Marcella frowned. “It’s eleven a.m. Did I wake you?”
Sophie yawned. “I had a bad night. We’re wrapping up our case with the Kama`aina Schools, so I thought I could take the morning to sleep in.”
“You deserve it!” Marcella infused her voice with positivity. “I was just out doing a few laps in the fresh air, but I could meet you down at the Fight Club gym if you want to go do a heavier workout.”
She could hear the smile in Sophie’s voice. “I just told you I had a rough night and wanted to sleep in. I was thinking that my workout would be lifting a fork to my mouth and eating a hefty breakfast. Pregnancy has a few benefits, you know.”
Somehow Marcella had forgotten Sophie was pregnant. “Yeah, of course it does. Are you still at your dad’s place?”
“I am. And from what I can smell, he’s making me pancakes again.”
“How lovely.” Marcella mustered her resolve. “I just got out of a meeting with Waxman and the international team. They don’t want to offer the immunity deal to Connor until he brings in Pim Wat, as well.”
Sophie didn’t reply.
Marcella started walking again for something to do.
Sunlight struck the little bits of mica in the gritty surface of the running track. Someone had thrown their coffee cup into one of the corners of the building’s parapet, and a few leaves had gathered there as well. Marcella paused and picked up the rubbish. She could tidy this little corner of the world, at least.
“I’m not terribly surprised to hear that,” Sophie said at last. “And, to be truthful, I don’t know how I feel about Connor getting an immunity deal. Did you . . . see that photo of the Master?”
Marcella swallowed. “It was pretty bad.”
“The man I used to know would never have done something like that. I’m—disturbed.”
“You don’t know the circumstances. Maybe it was self-defense.” Marcella couldn’t believe she was defending that man! She went on briskly. “This is all moot until he gets Pim Wat, too.”
“Pim Wat is a deadly, twisted psychopath, but she is still my mother. We’re talking about having my ex-boyfriend hunt down my parent, and kill her. How are we even having this conversation?” Sophie’s voice rose. “How is this who we are?”
“I don’t know what to say.” It was the absolute truth. “Maybe you should talk to Dr. Wilson.”
“I’m sure Dr. Wilson would agree that the whole situation is insane,” Sophie said. “And she can’t wave a magic wand and change anything about it. Thanks for letting me know what they decided.” Her friend ended the call abruptly.
“Aw, shit.” Marcella stopped, put her hands on her hips, and leaned backward to gaze up at the deep blue sky. “She has a point.”
But as horrifying as it was, none of them would rest easy until Pim Wat was dealt with—dead or alive. Preferably, dead.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Sophie
The dogs had gone out with her father already, so she was alone in her bedroom, the blackout drapes drawn, and until Marcella’s call, she had been deeply asleep. Sophie turned the phone off and set it down on the table beside her bed.
She’d been having some kind of wonderful dream, and she wished she could return to it.
What was it? Oh yes. She, Momi, and Jake had been building a sandcastle on the pristine white beach at Phi Ni. Armita was coming down the stairs from the house on the bluff, carrying a picnic basket. Momi set a beautiful spiral shell she had picked up near the water on top of the castle. Jake held Sophie’s hand, even though they were trying to build the castle together.
She’d been laughing at how silly that was.
Then the phone rang with that ugly news from Marcella. “Boils covering a poxy whore’s ass!” Sophie threw an arm over her eyes, feeling them prickle.
That scene at the beach had never happened. A pure imaginary dream. She and Jake had not had a lot of time to play with Momi there. All wishful thinking.
This was Sophie’s real life: alone in her bed, pregnant with her dead fiancé’s baby—while her dangerous criminal mother was hunted by a squad of ninja assassins, and her ex-boyfriend became a murdering cult leader.
Time for her five-minute cryfest. Sophie reached over to her phone, set the timer for five minutes, and turned her face into the pillow. She let the sobs come.
Frank knocked gently on the door sometime later. “Sophie! I made your favorite pancakes.” He spoke in the teasing voice he’d used when she was five years old. “I put extra bananas in yours.”
That promise still worked.
Sophie tossed the covers aside and set her feet on the floor. Getting up for pancakes had to be better than her bitter ruminations.
She had other good things to get up for, too: she was eager to find out what the school had decided about Conrad Kanekoa. She’d had a message from Leede and Raveaux that their meeting had gone well, and they’d meet at her office when she was ready to come in. The thought of seeing those two lifted her spirits. “Coming, Dad! I have to take a quick shower, all right?”
“I’ll keep the pancakes warm in the oven for you.”
Sophie padded into the bathroom and took a shower, spending a little extra time under cold water to reduce the puffiness of her eyes. Her need for five minutes of heavy crying each day had subsided of late, but here it was again: the aftermath of that disturbing photo. There was no un-seeing it.
Soon she was eating a stack of pancakes liberally daubed with butter and swimming in maple syrup, as her father handed her a large mug of strong tea. “I took those rambunctious dogs out for a run already.”
The dogs, ever sensitive to any mention of them, raised their heads inquisitively from their beds near the front door.
Sophie glanced at her father. He hadn’t shaved, but the salt and pepper whiskers on his chin couldn’t detract from his handsomeness. “Thanks, Dad. I think you might be interested to know that Connor did away with the Master. The team has decided that that was not enough to give him an immunity deal. They want Pim Wat dead, as well. Connor has sent a team of assassins to find her.”
Her father froze as he was scraping the frying pan into the sink. His shoulders sagged. “She won’t come out of that alive.”
“I hope not.” Sophie cut a bite of pancake from the stack on her plate. “She’s a danger to all of us.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“Pim Wat gave birth to me. That is all the good she ever did in my life. I owe her something for that, and I have repaid it.”
“I feel exactly the same.” He set the pan in the sink, and came over to give Sophie a hug. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”
“So did you, Dad.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Go get dressed and get to work. That’ll perk you up.”
Leede and Raveaux came into Sophie’s office a couple of hours later. Leede wore one of those outfits that she must have custom tailored for her tiny figure; today’s was bright turquoise, worn with high-heeled Mary Janes. Her white hair had been trimmed to shoulder length. Sophie couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. “You look lovely, Heri.”
“And you look like you didn’t get a good night’s sleep,” Heri said. “You need to take better care of yourself, for the baby’s sake.”
“You sound just like my father.” Sophie gave an eye roll. Raveaux, who’d entered just behind Heri, had been silent through this exchange. She glanced over at him. “Well? Are you going to give me a lecture, too?”
“You forget. I’ve been a parent. I know a good night’s sleep is always a luxury,” he said. Raveaux wore a long-sleeved, amethyst silk shirt and black linen slacks. Freshly shaved, he smelled of cinnamon as he walked past her to sit at the round table. “I brought the files on the Kama`aina case for us to go over, so we can submit our final billing.”
“Our boy Conrad skimmed six million dollars! My fee is ten percent of the cash recovered, so a pretty good payday, at least for me.” Leed
e smiled.
Sophie widened her eyes. “I will have to talk to Bix about billing extra for my computer expertise.”
“That will be fine. I’m planning to give each of you a bonus as well,” Leede said. “And I have a good outcome to report, as far as our young computer genius.”
“What’s that?” Sophie asked.
“Kama`aina Schools is expelling him, but they transferred his scholarship money to another very good private school in Honolulu. The rest of his year there is paid for. With any luck at all, they will extend his scholarship and keep him as a student until he graduates. They are not pressing charges since they were able to recover the funds.”
“Wonderful.” Sophie felt quick tears fill her eyes. She dabbed them with a tissue. “Sorry. This is the best news I could have heard today. I just keep thinking of Jana, and how worried she was.”
“All three of us are relieved,” Raveaux said. “I was able to hear your entire meeting through that surveillance device in the car. You and Heri were pitch perfect in that interview with the Kanekoas.”
“I very much enjoyed working with you both,” Heri said. “I’ll look for your billing in the mail. But if that’s all, I’ll leave you to get on with the day. I need to go back to my office and count my filthy lucre.” She clapped her be-jeweled hands like a child. “I think I deserve a new condo. Maybe two.” On that note, Heri Leede wafted out the door.
Raveaux headed to the credenza. “You look like you could use another cup of tea.”
“Yes, I could.”
Raveaux fixed the tea as Sophie considered how much to tell him about Connor.
She might as well tell him the whole truth. He already knew it all, anyway, and maybe it would provide her a measure of relief to be honest and open with someone a little more objective than Marcella and her father.
“Connor sent me a photo of the Master’s body yesterday. He had killed him per his agreement with the international task force. Marcella then told me that the team will not extend an immunity offer until he brings in Pim Wat, as well.”
