by Toby Neal
Several phone calls later, it was time for another interaction with Dunn. She had to steel herself for it—his personality was so intense. He was exhausting for an introvert like her. A few yoga stretches later, Sophie was ready to deal with him. She collected her laptop and went to his office.
Dunn was behind his computer, but his eyes brightened at the sight of her as he looked up. “Feeling better?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” Sophie smiled and set her laptop down on the table. “I have some thoughts I want to share.”
Dunn joined her, lacing his big hands together and resting his elbows on the table. Even in a passive pose, he always looked ready to bound up and tackle something or someone. “I was thinking we could do a raid. Get all those kids out of there. Hand them over to child welfare.”
Sophie shook her head. “It won’t work. The children are not being abused. Yes, they work, but on closer observation, it’s not inappropriate lengths of time except for maybe all the hours in the taro patch. They’re healthy, fed, clothed, and educated, even if it isn’t the way we would like to see it done. Child Welfare won’t have a case, and the children will be traumatized by being forcibly removed.”
Dunn cocked a brow. “I’m surprised to hear you say that. You seemed so—motivated regarding those children.”
“I got to see their lifestyle up close and personal. It’s unconventional, but the children are happy from what I can tell. Jackson is their father. If we get Jackson for the murders, the children’s world will change as a result, and we really have no control over what that will look like. Some of them might end up in foster care, and I’m not sure that’s an improvement over their current situation.”
“Okay, but I think we should hold that as a back pocket strategy. So what’s this update you have for me?”
Sophie filled him in on her inquiries using DAVID and her idea to follow the money trail and get the families to file missing persons reports. “We have to focus on finding a reason for a search warrant. Once Hilo PD has that in place, they can take in cadaver dogs based on the hearsay testimony of our client. When they do, I feel confident they will find the women’s remains.”
“So what do you need me to do?”
Sophie slanted Dunn a glance. That was one of the things she liked about him: he was never afraid to get in and do whatever needed to be done, including a stakeout that had probably driven him close to crazy.
“You’re going to hate this. I want you to pull together copies of all of the cult’s tax returns and call the women’s parents for copies of their wills, and while you’ve got them on the phone, encourage them to file missing persons reports with Hilo PD. DAVID has already confirmed that the income streams into the cult do not match their reported income. If we can find where the gap is, we can alert law enforcement to move in on them for tax evasion. I also think that the women’s families would not want their daughters’ estates going into Jackson’s pockets. Maybe we can prompt them to challenge the women’s financial arrangements, and drag the cult into court.”
“Yeah. Without death certificates, the women’s money will keep rolling into the Society’s coffers. I’m sure they won’t want that to continue.” Dunn gave a brisk nod. “I’m on it.”
By the end of the next day, Dunn and Sophie had shepherded the families of the missing women through filing missing persons reports with the Hilo PD. They also obtained copies of the women’s wills and copies of the Society of Light’s tax returns going back years.
Sophie programmed DAVID to dig deeper into tracking the sources of income in the Society’s accounts. She set the algorithm to drilling all night, and locked up her office.
Dunn clapped her on the shoulder in the hall outside her office, and Sophie winced. He lifted his hand away as if burned. “Sorry, sorry. I keep forgetting you were just in a major fight.”
Sophie gestured to her face. “I would think you would remember, having had to look at this all day.”
“I don’t know. It must be a kind of a normal look for you, with your MMA fighting.” His bantering tone reminding her of all the days that she’d dressed so carefully in Hong Kong, hiding the damage that Assan had done—but he’d always been careful to leave her face unmarked, and perhaps that was why she didn’t mind the bruises that she got in the MMA ring. They were honestly won. But Dunn was right—her face was bruised more often than not.
That had begun to bother her. Mary Watson, with her flowy dresses, didn’t look right with a black eye and a split lip.
Sophie gave a brief wave goodbye and turned into the company locker room, where she changed into Watson’s modest floral exercise clothes: a tank top and pink shorts—and walked downstairs to the battered truck, wondering, not for the first time, what and whom she was hiding from.
Assan was behind bars, his case tied up in extradition orders; the IA agents had already visited and could summon her any time they wanted. And the Ghost? She wanted to meet him face to face, anyway.
And still she felt compelled to don this other identity, and hide in a dingy apartment to sleep on a blow-up mattress with her dog.
Maybe it really was time for therapy. She could always call Dr. Wilson, the consultant whom she’d worked with several times on FBI cases. The petite blonde psychologist had been helpful more than once. But she’d liked Dr. Kinoshita, the Security Solutions psychologist, too…
Long evening shadows fell, wafting in the gold-edge galleons of cumulus cloud that were such a part of the Waikiki skyline at dusk. After picking up Ginger from doggie daycare, Sophie drove down to Ala Moana Beach Park.
She bought hot dogs at a street vendor, and after eating, she and Ginger walked briskly through the park. Sophie listened to the chatter of hundreds of mynah birds settling into one of the banyans to sleep as she passed by a knot of homeless people setting up tents for the night. Her workout earlier in the day had taken the edge off of her need to exercise, but Sophie was still troubled on some deep level.
Not to be able to see Dougal Sloane taken down at the compound was a huge setback. The fact that he could assault her the way he had and get away with it felt fundamentally wrong. She could push to press charges, but she’d then have to reveal the identity she’d used, and why.
In the new case they were constructing, would Sloane even come up as a suspect? It was doubtful he had anything to do with the finances of the cult, so this new angle might capture Jackson, but Sloane would still be free.
The limitations of being a civilian investigator were being brought to the fore.
Darkness fell as Sophie jogged slowly along the Ala Wai Canal’s cement walkway. Waikiki was everything the tourists came for: with the daytime crowd gone, the full moon sparkled on the peaceful canal, and a cool evening breeze made a subtle rustle through the palms.
Ginger tugged at her leash, pulling Sophie forward with a happy, excited bark. There was someone near the canal’s edge—someone with a dog, someone Ginger knew. Sophie allowed the Lab to tow her toward the silhouetted figures.
“Sophie?” Connor Remarkian’s voice was sharp with surprise, and Anubis, in a rare display of disobedience, dragged the man toward the straining Ginger. The dogs met, sniffing, Ginger making little ecstatic noises of happiness as she greeted her friend from their hikes. “What are you doing out here?”
“I might ask you the same, Connor,” Sophie replied, her spirits lifting at encountering the man and his dog. She stepped in for the polite hug that was an appropriate greeting in Hawaii. She had never gotten used to all the physical touching that was a part of the culture here, but she’d learned to deal with it. Connor smelled unexpectedly good, of sandalwood aftershave and warm, clean male.
He seemed to think the same about her, his hands cupping the rounded muscles of her shoulders as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “What a delightful surprise this is. And here I was, feeling a little lonely and sorry for myself.”
Sophie laughed. “You, lonely? How is that even possible? You must have women chasi
ng you every day.”
He shrugged, a movement in the darkness. “You’d be surprised. So do you come here often?”
“That sounds like one of those things men say in a bar,” Sophie said. “But yes. I do. A couple of times a week, at least.”
“So do I. We should coordinate.”
“That’s a possibility.” But Sophie didn’t always want to share her alone times jogging the nighttime beach or canal area. They fell into step, walking along the canal’s edge. Sophie liked the feel of his easy-moving bulk beside her.
“We talked about doing the Stairway to Heaven this weekend,” Connor said.
Another rigorous hike with him and Anubis would be fun. But when she bent to release Ginger’s leash, her bruised ribs still hurt.
Sophie shook her head. “I got a few injuries on my last job. I should probably take it easy.”
“What? Sophie Ang taking it easy?” She could almost hear Connor smiling in the dark, though only the moon gilded the top of his blond head and his broad shoulders, gleaming in a tank shirt. He released Anubis, too, and the Doberman and Lab commenced playing, leaping, and chasing each other like puppies in a little park area.
“I’m trying to listen to and respect my body more.” Sophie was surprised by the truth of her words even as she spoke them. Driving herself, punishing herself, beating others down and letting them beat her up—those days were over.
The realization felt like a small detonation.
What would that mean for her MMA fighting? She didn’t know, only that she didn’t want to show up for work covered with bruises anymore, didn’t want to see a battered face in the mirror every day.
“Did I—overstep myself?” Connor’s voice was hesitant.
“No. I’m just…figuring out some things.” Sophie lifted her head, straightened her spine. Enough with the foolish crush she’d been entertaining toward the Ghost. It would never go anywhere. Sheldon Hamilton was overseas somewhere, unlikely to return, and Connor was flesh and bone, right here, and he made her feel good. That was something, at least, and more than most. “Would you—like to go out with me? On a date?”
Connor halted and they faced each other. Sophie wished it were brighter so she could see the expression in his eyes, but they were hidden by shadows. His voice was rough. “I’d like nothing better. I was working up the courage to ask you, but I was afraid I wouldn’t even have our hikes to look forward to if you said no.”
Sophie laughed. It sounded nervous, thin, her breath hitching. “I’m not very good at this dating thing. And I should warn you, I seem to be cursed. Bad things happen around me.”
“You trying to talk me out of it? Not going to happen.” Connor lifted his hands slowly as if approaching some wild, shy creature. He set them on her shoulders, his fingers squeezing, stroking. “You have the most marvelous deltoids.”
This time Sophie’s laugh was free and genuine. “Now that is one I doubt you say to all the girls.”
“Only to you, Sophie.” Connor’s voice was husky. He leaned forward slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away, but Sophie didn’t want to. She stepped in to meet him, her hands coming up to rest lightly on his shoulders. His face descended to hers, backlit by the moon, and his lips touched hers gently. Sophie shut her eyes, the better to take in whatever there was to know from this experience.
She was surprised by an unfamiliar tug of desire at the base of her spine as the kiss deepened, surprised by an impulse to lean deeper into Connor, to slide her hands up over his shoulders, to cup the back of his head. She drew him down closer into her, pressing her body to his. Connor had made a sound, something between a groan and a whisper, as his arms slid down and tightened around her, bringing her flush against his hard torso.
Sophie remembered the last time she had been kissed by Alika, a moment so magical that she hadn’t allowed herself to recall it until this right now.
Connor wasn’t Alika, but he was a little bit wonderful, too.
She opened her mouth to his, and they tasted each other. Their hands traveled lightly over each other’s bodies, exploring. Sophie’s skin felt sensitized, every touch igniting heat, but still not sure. She stopped moving, standing passively and allowing his hands to caress the deep curve of her waist, slide along the muscles of her back, the contours of her arms.
She needed to know what she was feeling, if this was right, or too soon, or the wrong man. He took advantage of her pliancy to bend her so that her head rested against him, angling her jaw so that he could kiss her deeper. One hand held her close, as the other slid up her side, and back down, feathering over her butt.
Connor noticed her stillness and paused, lifting his head to gaze down at her. Sophie opened her eyes. She couldn’t see his face, and wished she could.
“Are you all right?” He was gentle and alert to her. She liked that he was paying attention.
“Just taking it all in. This may be—moving a little fast for me.” Her voice sounded breathless.
“We have all the time in the world.” Connor let go of her, his hands sliding down to take hers. “No rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
The acceptance in his words, his willingness to let her set the pace—all of that gave Sophie the confidence to rise up on her toes, clasp his face in her hands, and pull him down for one more kiss.
“Let’s have dinner on Saturday,” she said. His teeth gleamed briefly in the dark as he smiled.
“It’s a date. Thanks for asking me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dunn barged into her office the next morning, practically hopping with amped-up energy. “My surveillance camera picked up some unusual activity.”
Sophie frowned, looking up from checking DAVID’s cache files. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the lo-res, time lapse surveillance camera I set up pointed at the compound.” Dunn threw himself into one of the chairs at her little conference table without invitation. “Also, our informant Corbett made contact to let me know that the cult is packing up and leaving the Waipio Valley location. They’re going to South America.”
“Sounds like they’re doing damage control. Why didn’t you tell me you were setting up a cam?” Sophie asked sharply.
Dunn shrugged. “It never came up. Check this out.” He opened the slim laptop he had brought in and turned it to face her. “This footage was sent remotely, and as you recall the signal isn’t too good out there. The resolution isn’t great, but you can see that they’re digging up the garden. With a backhoe. At night.”
Sophie hurried around her desk to lean over his shoulder. The images were grainy, shot through a night vision scope, but even so Sophie could see the small backhoe, planted square in the middle of what would have been the mandala labyrinth in the garden, and it was digging, creating a mound of soil. “They’re moving the bodies.”
“It looks that way. Any luck with your online hunt for a reason for a search warrant?”
“I’ve isolated a couple of possible sources of unreported funds. But—I’m afraid it is not enough yet.”
Dunn pointed a finger at the screen. “This was last night. I should have been monitoring the cam all night, but I left the laptop at work. My bad. Who knows what they’ve done by now.” He punched a few more buttons, and a new window popped up. Morning light was dawning over the Waipio Valley, throwing the high, velvety-green, corrugated sides of the valley into sharp relief.
Sophie frowned. “We have to talk to Hilo PD.”
“What will they be able to do?” Dunn threw his hands up in frustration. “You know that isn’t actionable. But maybe—” he leaned forward, his thick forearms bunching. “Maybe, if we’re able to sample that soil using the new sniffer technology device, we can get them to come check that hole.”
Sophie lifted an eyebrow, feeling a smile tug her lips. “You just want to go back in and use that device.”
“So what if I do? Thing cost thousands, and we haven’t had a case to use it on since we boug
ht it. This is the perfect test situation.”
The cadaver detection device, a handheld contraption utilizing the ninhydrin-based decomposition gas detection technology, was being touted as a replacement for cadaver dogs. Sophie had her doubts, but clearly Dunn was eager to try the thing out.
“So what if we do find something?” Sophie leaned back and tapped her lips with a forefinger as her eyes wandered the acoustic tile ceiling. “So we find something that indicates the presence of a human body. Then what? How do we stop the cult from disposing of it, and get Hilo PD there in time to confiscate the remains?”
Her gaze fell, to find Dunn looking her over, a pinched expression on his face. Clearly he didn’t care for the Mary Watson outfit she’d dressed in today: long Bermuda shorts, sensible sandals that fastened with Velcro, and a button-down floral shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows. It seemed like the kind of outfit that was appropriate for a casual office setting like theirs.
“What’s with the new threads? You look like you’re going to a church luncheon—with my grandmother.”
Sophie shrugged, her cheeks heating. She was experimenting with clothing styles for the first time in her life, and his comment hurt a bit. “I was getting sick of always looking like an FBI agent, or like I was going to the gym. Can we get back to the topic at hand?”
“You have to take me shopping with you next time you go. I can help you with wardrobe choices.” Dunn looked serious, though she grinned at the thought of him trailing her through clothing aisles, holding her bags and advising her on purses. “I know how you should dress.”
“Oh really?” She scoffed. “Probably something tight and slinky. You men are all the same.”
“No, really. You are what I’d call a ‘classic.’ You should dress like Audrey Hepburn. Little black dress, cream silk blouse, tailored pants. Pearl earrings.” The tops of Dunn’s ears had gone red.