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

by Toby Neal

  Raveaux assembled the tea service on the tray, and carried it to the table. “How did the Master die?”

  “Does it matter?” Sophie looked down and sighed. “Connor stabbed him. Multiple times.” She covered her face with her hands, trying to block out what she’d seen, as if she could. “It was—a messy crime scene.”

  Raveaux approached. He gently pulled her hands away from her face, and drew her up to stand. He took her into his arms. “Lean on me,” he said into her ear. “It’s going to be all right.”

  Sophie tentatively rested her cheek on the smooth silk of his shirt. She breathed in the warm cinnamon smell of his aftershave. The skin of his neck was close to her lips as he held her. She closed her eyes—and oh, how they ached from all the crying.

  Sophie let herself relax, and feel all that she felt, though she wasn’t willing to put any name or label to it. He rocked her gently.

  Gentle. Supportive. Loving.

  It was okay that his hug felt loving.

  Finally, Raveaux set her back, squeezing her shoulders. “All right?” His eyes were the rich brown of espresso.

  “I think I’ll take some of that tea now,” Sophie said.

  “It should be ready.”

  They sat. He poured. They drank.

  Finally, Sophie said, “I like her. Heri.”

  “I like her, too.”

  “You should date her,” Sophie said. “She’s attracted to you.”

  “We’re spending time together,” Raveaux said. “Heri’s—fun.”

  “That’s not a word anyone’s ever called me,” Sophie said morosely. “Jake was fun.” Her eyes filled again. “I miss him so much.”

  Raveaux covered her hand with his. “You’ll always miss him. I’ll always miss Gita. But they are gone, and we are here, and somehow we must go on.” He removed his hand from hers, and Sophie missed its warmth. “More tea?” He quirked a brow.

  “Please,” she said, and they finished the pot.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Connor

  Day 24

  Connor dressed carefully in western clothing as Nam packed his bag for their trip.

  Two weeks had passed since the Yām Khûmkạn teams had been sent out looking for Pim Wat. They had come up dry; Pim Wat seemed to have disappeared off the planet. Connor had even gone to Bangkok to visit Malee, Sophie’s aunt, in hope of procuring more information.

  Malee had told him the harrowing tale of Pim Wat showing up at her house in order to mutilate her, but she had nothing useful otherwise. “My sister likes shopping,” she’d said. “And she has a new face. She’s probably gone to one of the fashion capitals to make a nest for herself.”

  Of his little cohort, Kupa agreed with Malee that Pim Wat had taken one of her “bug-out bags” and adopted a new identity somewhere far away. “She is waiting for everyone to lower their guard before she reappears to kill those who hurt her,” Kupa said with chilling simplicity.

  They had activated their spy networks in Paris, Rome, Madrid, London, and New York.

  Still nothing.

  In the meantime, Connor had dialogued with the international team through Sophie, and submitted a hand-drawn sketch of Pim Wat’s new face for their facial recognition software.

  Connor hadn’t been surprised at the news that the team wouldn’t give him an immunity deal on the Master’s death alone; and it didn’t matter. He wasn’t ready to return to the United States.

  He and his three friends, plus a separate chopper carrying a squad of personal guards, were on their way to the Philippines to investigate the Master’s hidden lair.

  Pali Island, owned by the Yām Khûmkạn, was nestled in a deep bay off of the coast of Palawan, considered the most picturesque, and also one of the Philippines’ biggest islands.

  Connor gazed around the rustic Palawan Airport as his team, consisting of Kupa, Nam, and Nine, came down the stairs of the jet. Behind them, carrying their various baggage and food supplies, was his security team of trained Yām ninjas. The island was so remote that they’d planned as if they wouldn’t have any supplies, and packed for a week.

  The tropical heat immediately wilted Connor’s shirt collar and made his pants stick to his legs, as he strode toward the tin-roofed building that served as this part of Palawan’s small airport outpost. Contacts from the Yām were everywhere, and they’d made the travel very smooth, as a driver met the group and took them in a large van to a nearby harbor. They climbed on board a flat-bottomed transport boat with benches around the sides, and a shade cover.

  The garrulous captain began a conversation with Nam, who knew a little Ilocano. The two conversed as Connor sat in the bow and stared out at the small, verdant atolls and clear turquoise waters. His sunglasses cut the glare as he took in the sparkling water all around him, so transparent that he could see the bright colors of coral on the bottom and the darting movements of fish.

  They were moving fast enough to get a little breeze going, and Connor was grateful as the wind dried the sweat from his brow and his shirt.

  The boat trundled on for a couple of hours, navigating among several small islands. Though covered in jungle, their steep gray cliffs reminded Connor of the islets that had peppered the waters off the coast of his beloved Phi Ni.

  These land masses were made of a different material: a rough looking basalt. Still, they were topped with pretty vegetation; rising from the crayon-bright water, they were stunning.

  Finally, their captain guided the transport launch into the arms of a narrow bay rimmed with palm trees and black rocks. A sandy bottom and pristine white beach welcomed them at the far end of the bay’s mouth. The captain and his helper tied the launch to a narrow dock protruding from the beach, the only indication of human presence.

  Connor was relieved to see this sign of civilization. Nine had been to the island while searching for Pim Wat, and had told him the Master’s dwelling was large and well-appointed—but even so, Connor wouldn’t have put it past the Master to have lived for six months in a shack, a yurt, or some other rustic dwelling.

  A houseman dressed in the Yām Khûmkạn’s regulation black gi came running down from in the trees to greet them in the Thai language. “Welcome to Pali Island! I am so glad you graced us with your presence, Master. My name is Tran.”

  Connor still winced a little at the title. “I’m glad to be here. He never told me anything much about this place, but I know how much it meant to him.”

  “And I hope it will provide you the same kind of rest and relaxation that it did for him,” the houseman said.

  The rest of his crew introduced themselves to Tran, and soon their troop was walking up a path lined with white coral stones. Large trees with paddle-shaped leaves shaded the area, immediately cutting the heat by at least fifty percent.

  They wound up the pathway, rising higher and higher, and Connor frowned. Was he going to have to walk as far as his road had been, leading to the house on the headland of Phi Ni?

  He remembered his beautiful house there with a pang of nostalgia. Hopefully, Sophie would get the property back from the Department of Justice at some point, but those wheels did not seem to be turning at all right now.

  They came around another outcrop of the rough gray stone that made up the island, and Kupa gasped, giving voice to what all of them felt when they saw the house.

  The Master’s dwelling was built in a Mediterranean style of white limestone, and it rose majestically from the bluff it rested on as if growing from its rocky base. Terra-cotta tiles made up its roof, and the windows were deep, arched, and framed by hand-painted, brightly-colored ceramic tiles. Connor had a sense of how cool it was going to be inside by looking at the mansion, and his blood pressure lowered as he followed Tran through an arched front doorway.

  Inside, the tile on the roof was repeated, but in a glazed, open floor plan with floor-to-ceiling sliding glass windows and a patio. All the walking uphill had brought them to the brow of a knoll that overlooked the same bay in which
they had arrived. The flat-bottomed boat looked like a child’s toy tied up at the dock down below. Gauzy curtains framed the windows and allowed the breeze to blow in. Pure white canvas-covered couches and lounge chairs invited relaxation. All of the furniture was hand-hewn of native woods, and the walls were decorated with large colorful shells mounted as if they were sculptures.

  He should have known the Master’s house would be this beautiful.

  Connor felt a stab of grief that the Master had never shared this place with him. He still missed the man daily. “This looks very comfortable.”

  Tran bowed. “It is our team’s pleasure to make your stay as enjoyable as we can for you, Master. Follow me upstairs, and I will show you the bedrooms. The security team has their own house outside.”

  Connor was shown to the biggest suite, which shared the same view as the living room but one floor up. Nine took the guest bedroom on one side, and Kupa and Nam took the other one. A fourth bedroom remained empty at the end of the hall.

  Connor refreshed himself in the simple bathroom with its composting-type toilet and catchment water system shower. Overhead lights provided a soft glow, and he spotted photovoltaic cells perched at an angle off of the windowsill to catch the best sun.

  This place was completely off the grid, and it was as refreshing inside as the thick, sun-retardant walls had promised.

  Connor had planned to lie down on the comfortable bed for only a moment, but evening was slanting long blue shadows across the pure white coverlet when he finally woke up.

  He lay there for a moment, staring up at the mosquito netting artfully draped around the wooden frame surrounding the bed.

  They were safe here. He’d had the entire island scoured by the ninjas the moment they landed. Contacts at the Palawan Airport and Harbor had never spotted a woman matching Pim Wat’s description here, nor anywhere near the area.

  It had been a vigorous and non-stop two weeks since the Master’s ashes had been scattered around the garden he’d loved so much.

  Connor had worked hard during the transition to keep the men on a rigorous schedule, and to begin to train some of the more trustworthy elders to lead the martial arts drilling and other functions within the compound. Nine had been his constant right hand, and he couldn’t have come this far without him. Nine had grown in his leadership skills, and easily commanded the men and made the kinds of decisions that he would need to as a leader.

  And yet, they both knew Nine wasn’t the next Master, nor did his friend want that role. “My purpose is to facilitate you,” Nine had told him during one of their evening chess matches.

  Connor could stay for a short time. The house was isolated, defensible, and a good alternative to his island of Phi Ni for relaxation.

  Sophie still had a week or so before her custody month with Momi began; enough time for her to come visit Pali Island. He needed to see her—reconnect somehow.

  Connor rose from the bed and changed into a pair of swim trunks and a light cotton robe he found in one of the closets. He headed downstairs to find some food, and then take a swim in the crystal sea—but he never stopped watching for danger. He couldn’t afford to.

  Chapter Fifty

  Sophie

  Day 27

  Sophie descended from the private jet when it landed at the remote airport in Palawan. The tropical heat hit her like a wave, and she was glad she had dressed for it in a lightweight, spaghetti strap dress. She had left the dogs with her father, and Bix in charge of Security Solutions. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Connor, standing in the shade of the tin roof of the airport building.

  Her backpack bouncing, Sophie sped across the hot tarmac to meet him. She hugged him hard, and paused, pressing him close.

  There was something different about him. He felt like a stranger in her arms.

  Sophie pulled back, gazing into his sea-blue eyes. Connor stared down at her, his expression somber. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  “I had to come.” It was as simple as that. So much had happened since Connor and Nine had flown in by chopper with Raveaux to rescue her and Jake from the volcano. They’d disappeared so quickly afterward that she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye.

  Sophie eyed Connor up and down. He wore a white cotton gi and loose pants, the summer uniform of the Yām Khûmkạn. His blonde hair, bleached by the sun, was long enough to curl over his ears, but he was as honed and fit as ever.

  She hugged him again, trying to press away the sense of something alien that lay between them like an invisible barrier.

  “You can’t make it go away,” he said softly. “Things have changed. I am the Master now.”

  Sophie stood back, frowned. “You will always be Connor to me.”

  His lips curved in a humorless smile. “I’m counting on that.” He extended a hand. “I promise you will like this island, and this house, just as much as Phi Ni.”

  “Nothing could be as wonderful as Phi Ni,” Sophie said, but as they headed towards a van parked beside the airport building, the door opened and Nam stepped out.

  “Nam!” Sophie ran forward to embrace the houseman. They had become close during the time Sophie had spent on Phi Ni, getting in shape after the birth of her daughter, and on vacations since. Shy Kupa stepped down from the van as well. Nam’s wife looked lovely but unfamiliar, and Sophie remembered Connor had told her about Pim Wat’s makeover of the woman. Sophie embraced her, too. “I couldn’t be happier to see the two of you.”

  “And we to see you, Mistress,” Kupa said.

  “Please don’t call me that. I’m Sophie to you, and always will be. We are friends.”

  Kupa embraced her again. “You are so different from your mother,” she said into Sophie’s ear.

  Sophie touched the woman’s long, silky hair. “You look beautiful, Kupa.”

  “Pim Wat wanted me to look beautiful.”

  Sophie felt sick as she stepped back. “I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine what she did to you.”

  Kupa smiled. “Those days are over. I am filled with gratitude that we are away from that place, and that woman. Let us not speak of her again.” She tugged Sophie’s hand and led her into the van. They sat on the bench seat together. Connor got in the passenger seat, and Nam took the wheel. Soon they were bumping down the road, headed for a harbor where a transport boat to Pali Island awaited them.

  Sophie enjoyed catching up with Nam and Kupa and updating them on the situation with Phi Ni. “I have a very good lawyer, and he’s working on it. The chain of ownership of the property is well established, but, since charges against Connor are still pending, the Department of Justice is saying that the island is still a part of the case, and confiscated as such.” Sophie met Connor’s eyes as he looked back over the backrest of his seat. “Once you get your immunity deal, this whole thing will go away.”

  Connor tightened his jaw, and turned away.

  Kupa patted Sophie’s hand. “I hear congratulation blessings are in order.”

  Sophie turned to her, smiling. “Yes. I just had a sonogram, and I’m pleased to tell you that I’m expecting a boy.”

  Kupa clapped her hands, and Connor echoed the congratulations from the front seat.

  Sophie placed her hand over her abdomen. She was still slim, but that low, hard bulge was growing. “I’m calling him Sean. Sean was Jake’s middle name. This pregnancy has been a great comfort to me after losing Jake.”

  “Words cannot express how sorry we were to hear of his death,” Nam said from the front. “We know how much you loved him.”

  Sophie nodded. There was nothing more to say. She gazed out the window of the van, as they drove through the heavily jungled countryside. The country road wound around bluffs and through valleys and over ridges, and she took in the gorgeous views.

  They reached the harbor and the transport boat. That journey was just as enchanting as the van ride had been. As they pulled into the bay at Pali Island some hours later, Sophie couldn’t help clapping her hands. “Con
nor, this is so beautiful.”

  “The Master always had good taste.” Connor’s eyes were sad.

  “You still miss him, don’t you?”

  “I always will.”

  All the things Sophie wanted to ask him about the man’s death clogged her throat, but this moment, here with their dear friends Nam and Kupa, was not the place for that conversation.

  Sophie lay in the spacious bed of the guest suite at the end of the hall. Nam had shown her around the mansion; she could still hardly believe that a house this elaborate had been constructed in such a remote area. Tran, the houseman in charge, proudly told her that the dwelling had been constructed more than thirty years ago by a previous Master.

  Sophie got a bit of a chill thinking of each incarnation of the role Connor was now playing abiding in these rooms.

  Connor was different in some profound way. It wasn’t just that he was grieving, because that was plain in his hollow eyes and whipcord-lean body. A darkness of spirit seemed to have fallen over him, along with the mantle of leadership.

  They’d spent a lovely first evening at the house, eating a meal out on the patio overlooking the bay with Nam, Kupa, and Nine. They all spoke in Thai as Nine spoke only that language, although he had begun studying English in his spare time. Sophie loved the sound of her birthplace’s words on her tongue. They enjoyed an easy companionship, and several pitchers of locally made Palawan Wit beer from which Sophie abstained.

  Connor voiced no interest in the immunity deal, in returning to the United States, nor in crafting any way to be with her more regularly.

  Sophie sat up in bed. This was only day two. Hopefully, she and Connor would be able to find their way back to the easy friendship they’d once shared, at the very least. Throughout the evening she’d felt his intent gaze on her.