by Toby Neal
Jake nodded. “Thanks. I just wanted to get your take on things. Please keep this probe confidential.”
She inclined her head. “Of course. I appreciate your keeping it confidential, as well. Last thing we need is negative talk in the community.”
Jake opened his door and got out. “I’m all for staying out of trouble!”
Cruz tilted her head with a smile. “You might be in the wrong business for that, Mr. Dunn. Good luck and good hunting.”
Mission accomplished so far, Jake headed for the Banyan Tree Motel, a run-down local establishment nestled in the curve of Hilo Bay where he and Sophie had been staying until they located something more permanent.
Sophie still insisted on separate rooms in spite of spending nights together, but he didn’t argue. The lady needed her psychological space, and it behooved him to give it to her.
Jake’s pulse picked up as he anticipated being alone with Sophie at the end of the day. She had sent him off with Kim to tour the stadium, telling him she had computer work to do and an appointment to go to outside the office.
That appointment had to be with Dr. Wilson, and he was glad she was going. Sophie wasn’t sleeping well in spite of the number of orgasms he made sure she achieved nightly. She’d drop off to sleep, but later spend hours tossing and turning, caught in dark dreams. Sometimes she woke with a cry, or lay still, weeping silently—and he could always tell when she did, though she tried to hide it from him.
And no matter how many times he asked what was bothering her, she wouldn’t tell him.
But Jake was no idiot.
Sophie was torturing herself over a recent attempt on her life and its aftermath. A small explosive device in a package rigged to blow had damaged her ribs and given her a concussion—but her former boyfriend Alika, who’d met Sophie in her father’s lobby and picked up the bomb, had been the one to take real damage. The real estate developer had lost his arm and been in ICU for the better part of a week. He was finally out of the hospital and had been transported back to his home on Kaua`i.
Jake had been monitoring the situation via Marcella, Sophie’s best friend, and it seemed like Alika was recovering as best as could be expected. Sophie had refused to see or communicate with the man, though, and Jake guessed that she was eaten up with guilt for indirectly causing Alika’s mutilation. It was as if, in cutting Alika off, she’d increased her attachment to him.
Jake scowled, navigating the busy downtown Hilo traffic. He’d thought he won the lottery the day Sophie asked him to be her lover. He’d been crazy for her—emotionally, physically, in every way possible. He’d been sure there was no wall she could put up against him that he couldn’t break down, at least physically.
And at first, that part of their relationship had been amazing. Sophie sought him out every night. She initiated the sex, and it was hot as hell. She was aggressive, responsive, as hungry as he was. They made love until exhaustion took them both over.
But then, the dreams. The insomnia and crying. Sophie had stopped looking him in the eye when they made love. Jake felt a distance widening between them no matter their physical pleasure, and even that had begun to feel empty as she withdrew deeper into herself.
He hated the secrets. The lies. The others that lay between them, unspoken and unacknowledged.
He pulled up at the motel. Maybe they’d have a breakthrough tonight. Sophie had told him she’d meet him at seven at a seafood place they both liked, the first time they hadn’t just called for some kind of takeout and proceeded to the sex part of the evening.
Since he’d arrived first, Jake unlocked Sophie’s room and let Ginger and Tank out. The friendly, affectionate Lab and his rescue pit bull got walked in the morning before they left for work, once at noon by whomever was free, and in the evening when either of them arrived back at the motel.
Seeing Jake, Ginger woofed in joy as if she’d been abandoned forever. The Lab flung herself on her back at his feet, begging with her whole body for a tummy rub, while Tank looked on, tongue lolling.
If only Sophie was half as in love with Jake as her dog was.
Chapter Five
Sheldon Hamilton, CEO of Security Solutions, aka Connor, watched Sophie out of the corner of his eye. He’d flown all the way back from his island in Thailand for this meeting, and the flare of excitement at seeing Sophie again had already been extinguished by worry and disappointment.
They sat in his office area on board the corporate jet parked in Hilo Airport, and waited for the video conferencing software to contact Agent McDonald of the CIA. They’d have total privacy on the plane: no interruptions, uninvited guests, or security breaches.
Sophie’s full mouth was pinched, her honey-brown eyes shadowed. She’d always reminded him of a golden eagle, wild and hard to tame. It was a miracle that she’d ever flown with him and told him she loved him. He couldn’t have ruined his chances with her permanently. No. He would win her back. With patience. With time. With relentless will and unstoppable love. With all the ways he could help and serve her that no one else could. She’d said she forgave him for that terrible mistake he’d made; it was a start. “You don’t look like you’ve been resting well.”
“I haven’t been.” Her eyes stayed down, fixed on the computer tablet she held.
Connor’s imagination went in a bad place. His gut knotted. “Not even with Jake in your bed?”
“Not even with Jake.” Sophie still refused to meet his gaze. She was so honest and literal.
There was no more time for that line of conversation because the little icon stopped spinning on the laptop’s monitor.
CIA Agent McDonald’s jowly, florid face filled the screen. “Mr. Hamilton. And Sophie Ang. How’s the new operation going in Hilo?”
“We’re done setting up and have our first cases,” Sophie replied. “Security Solutions is officially open for business in Hilo.”
McDonald’s bushy brows snapped together. “I thought that extension office was just a cover for you, Ms. Ang.”
“Rather expensive cover for Security Solutions to create an entire branch office for one woman, working for nothing for the CIA,” Connor said drily. “Ms. Ang is our employee and has actual duties to perform.”
McDonald’s color grew deeper. The man definitely had a blood pressure problem. “Have you had enough time to think over our proposal?”
“And what is that, exactly? Spell it out for us,” Connor said.
“The proposal was not to you, Hamilton, nor to Security Solutions.” McDonald turned his gaze to Sophie. “Ms. Ang. It’s disappointing that you feel you needed to hide behind your employer when we offered you, and you alone, an opportunity to go after your mother’s organization, the Yām Khûmkạn. We offered training. A cover. A support system. A chance to prove your patriotism. Maybe get a little revenge.” He bounced his brows suggestively.
“I will be honest with you, Agent McDonald, in the spirit of full disclosure—and because you are likely monitoring me and know all of this anyway.” Sophie spoke precisely. “I have been struggling with depression, in no small part triggered by discovering that my mother, who I thought was an invalid, has actually, for my entire life, been a spy. She married my father and had a child as cover. She sold me to a sadistic husband in return for favors to her clandestine organization.” Sophie spread her long, tawny fingers wide on the tabletop as if seeking to ground herself. “Anyone might find these revelations a little upsetting, but for me, combined with a series of traumatic events…I have not been myself.” She gave a small, bitter laugh that hurt Connor to hear. “Whoever that ‘self’ is. I am not mentally and emotionally fit to be a double agent for the CIA right now. And for the record, I don’t need to prove my patriotism.”
McDonald’s cheeks puffed indignantly as he drew breath for a rebuttal, but Connor cut him off with a hand gesture. “Sophie is available only in the capacity which I described to you when I made contact last week: as an employee of Security Solutions. I will continue to be i
nvolved in this project every step of the way. Your office should have received our contract by now. We will be charging fair market value for investigation services of this sensitive and specialized nature.”
McDonald held up a paper. “Our office got the fax. This is highly irregular. We have many confidential assets throughout the world, and we set the terms, thank you very much.”
“Not this time.” Connor let some of his anger show in a hard and steady gaze. “Ms. Ang is not going anywhere or doing anything alone.”
Sophie touched Connor’s arm out of sight of the camera. Gratitude was conveyed in the soft squeeze of her hand, warm and intimate—and over too soon.
McDonald blew out a gusty sigh and threw up his hands. “I’ll take this back to my people. They aren’t going to be happy.”
“Take it or leave it.” Connor said. “We have plenty of work for Ms. Ang without complicating things further.”
“You might want to make nice with the CIA, Mr. Hamilton, or you might find access to your private island in Thailand getting a little tricky,” McDonald growled.
“Are you threatening me?” Connor smiled without humor. He’d love to unleash the Ghost to find some dirt on McDonald. Taking on the CIA was a challenge he’d relish.
This time, Sophie’s hand touching his arm was a restraining pressure.
She didn’t want him to go after this guy, or the CIA. She probably still had some childish fantasy of finding a way to redeem her conscienceless harpy of a mother and didn’t want Connor to endanger that.
McDonald shook his head. “We’re getting off on the wrong foot. I will take this contract to my superiors. In the meantime, if you could cozy up to Pim Wat and her organization while you’re going to therapy for your depression, Ms. Ang, your country would be grateful.” McDonald managed to sound both sarcastic and sincere. “And in the interest of bringing useful information to the table, I’ve got some news as well. Akane Chang has escaped. You might want to take extra precautions.”
The man reached out, pushed a button, and the screen went black.
Chapter Six
Sophie rubbed the scar on her cheekbone. Touching the rough, bumpy ridge, oddly numb and sometimes tingly, had become something of a habit. A gunshot wound repair, the skin graft over a prosthetic cheekbone had altered her appearance, but Sophie was the one who seemed most bothered by it. She breathed deliberately—her injured ribs still hurt, and McDonald’s revelation had made her want to get up and run. Or fight. Or both.
Akane Chang was, apparently, a nightmare she hadn’t yet left behind.
Connor stared at her intensely, sea-blue eyes hidden behind those dark contacts and hipster glasses that were part of his Sheldon Hamilton disguise.
“You knew about Akane Chang.” Sophie made herself stop rubbing the scar.
“I monitor everything that might be a threat.” Connor removed the glasses and leaned forward to take out the contacts, slipping the lenses into a small plastic container. “I was looking forward to this occasion of privacy to discuss his escape.”
“I stopped monitoring Akane after the trial,” Sophie said. “Was just hoping that monster was going to be behind bars and out of circulation permanently. Son of a pox-ridden whore!” She swore in Thai and closed her eyes for a moment, covering them with a hand. “Couldn’t just one sadistic killer I’ve dealt with stay in jail?”
As Connor had pointed out, she hadn’t been sleeping well. She and Jake had been staying in a run-down motel in Hilo Bay, and in spite of a lot of very good sex, insomnia plagued her nightly, peppered with trauma flashbacks and feedback loops of regret, many of which involved Alika Wolcott.
“That’s the depression talking.” Dr. Wilson, her therapist, spoke in her head. “Guilt doesn’t help anyone.”
Yes. The depression had a voice, a tone even.
Fortunately, she had a session with Dr. Wilson soon. There would be a lot to cover.
Connor rapped his knuckles on the table to get her attention. “We have a reprieve from the CIA situation for the moment, but your mother needs something to keep her on the line. I propose we call her; you can tell her about Akane.”
“Why would I do that?”
Connor shrugged. “She is an assassin, after all.”
Sophie really focused on Connor’s face for the first time that day. The man was almost too handsome with his classical features, square jaw, and those changeable blue-green eyes. His dark brown hair was a part of his Hamilton persona, but she still remembered it blond.
She stiffened at the reminder that Pim Wat was not only a spy—her mother was a murderer. “I only have your word on that.”
Connor’s eyes flashed with temper. “Why don’t you ask Pim Wat yourself?” He grabbed Sophie’s phone, scrolled a moment and pressed a button, put it on speaker, and pushed the device toward Sophie.
No time to prepare, rehearse, or otherwise brace herself.
Pim Wat’s husky voice came on, speaking Thai. “Sophie Malee?”
“Mother.” Sophie blew out a breath, not sure how to proceed.
“You took long enough to call. I was beginning to be concerned.” Pim Wat sounded sad, a tone Sophie was all too familiar with—and that note sparked anger. Because it was fake, that sadness, a lie. Sophie had dealt with it her entire childhood.
“Quit pretending, Mother. You just want to know if I’ll do your job.”
A pause.
“You’re testy today.” Pim Wat’s voice had modulated upward. They were still speaking Thai, and Sophie slanted a glance at Connor, not sure if he was following everything—or if he needed to. His head was cocked to the side, and he gave a slight nod. He’d been studying Thai, and he was following so far.
“Perhaps that new lover of yours is not so good in bed,” Pim Wat mused.
Sophie flushed. “You’re spying on me now?”
“It’s what I do, Sophie Malee.” Pim Wat’s voice was coolly amused. Only her mother called her that. “Jake Dunn appears to be a fine physical specimen. I’m sure I could teach him whatever he might be lacking in skills.”
“By Kali’s left tit, Mother, this is no way to get on my good side,” Sophie said.
“You and your varied deity curses. Amusing. I need to placate you now? Very well.” Pim Wat sighed, put upon. “I killed the man who tried to blow you up with the bomb. It was not easy. I took a bullet to do it. In the vest, it’s true, but it still hurt like a water buffalo’s kick. And I did that for you, Sophie.”
Sophie opened and closed her mouth, meeting Connor’s gaze. Her mother was bragging about a kill!
Connor closed one eye in a slow, deliberate wink.
That wink that told her she wasn’t alone.
That wink that reassured her they were on the same side—and it was not her mother’s.
And that wink that hinted at a deeper knowledge of everything about the situation.
Trust Connor to be way out in front of Pim Wat. Sophie didn’t have to know exactly what he was doing to know that it would be effective.
Sophie felt ridiculously reassured. Connor could handle her mother. She looked back down at the phone, trying to muster an appropriate response.
Pim Wat went on, apparently concerned about Sophie’s silence. “The Lizard was a cagey and cautious assassin. He wouldn’t have stopped trying to tick you off his kill list—he was egotistical that way.” Pim Wat sounded primly disapproving. “So, I removed him.”
“You’re a killer as well as a spy?” Sophie didn’t have to fake the way her voice cracked. “My mother. A lying murderer.”
“Oh, silly girl,” Pim Wat snapped. “You and your American self-pity, tender sensibilities and mental anguish. Please. Spare me the petty judgments. I do what needs to be done. What others cannot. For the good of my country and my family.” Sophie was chilled at the similarity of Pim Wat’s words to things the Ghost had said. “If you cannot see what I did as the gift it was, you are the petty one.”
Sophie shut her eyes, trying to
sort through her responses to find one that would serve the purpose of engaging her mother and building trust.
“The Lizard was nearly effective at killing me several times. The world is a better place without him,” Sophie said. That much was true. “If only Akane Chang could meet the same fate. The man escaped from jail on Oahu.”
Pim Wat cursed, a fluid rush of profanity that put Sophie’s creative attempts to shame. “Akane Chang is dangerous to you, my daughter.”
“No shit.” The Americanism seemed appropriate. Sophie met Connor’s gaze again. “I’m worried about Akane being on the loose. The Big Island is his home. He will be coming here.”
“Where was he last seen?”
“I don’t know anything but what I’ve told you. His escape is being kept quiet.”
A long pause. “When can we meet in person, to discuss your role with the Yām Khûmkạn?”
“Soon, Mother. Just give me a little more time to get situated. I’m looking for a more permanent dwelling, and getting the office up and running…”
“All of that is irrelevant. I want you to get started on the computer system rebuild that our organization needs,” Pim Wat snapped.
“I’m telling you, I’m not ready. Find someone else if you need it done right away,” Sophie said.
“Perhaps I will.” Pim Wat ended the call with a click.
Sophie sagged in her chair, covering her face with her hands. “Devil swine! Foul stench of a bloated corpse! Rat-infested warehouse filled with broken dildos!”
“Not bad, but I rather think your mother has you beat in the cursing department,” Connor observed. “Still wondering whether or not she’s an assassin?”
“No. She definitely confirmed it.” Sophie put her hands down, glancing at the phone. “Oh no! I have to meet Jake soon. We’re having dinner in town.”
Connor’s expression didn’t change—it just seemed to freeze. “Have fun.” He got up from the table and turned his back, sliding his laptop into a briefcase. “I’ll be here in Hilo for a few more hours. Going to Oahu to check in with Bix and the main office. There are company matters that demand Sheldon Hamilton’s attention.”