by Toby Neal
The detective thrust Connor inside the downstairs office leading off the great room, and slammed the door. Connor walked across the graciously appointed space and sat in a chair beside Alika Wolcott’s desk, a drafting table covered in architectural plans. “Get your cops outside, searching. Time is of the essence in a case like this.”
“Let’s just put the brakes on for a minute, here, Mr. Hamilton.” Jenkins pulled a rolling office chair away from the drafting table and sat facing Connor. He took out a tablet and a stylus. “Give me some background on yourself.”
“Not until you authorize a grid search of the grounds,” Connor said. “Every minute we sit here wagging our jaws, the perps get farther away with a tiny infant who needs her mother. Yes, I have information germane to this investigation, but I’m not giving it to you without some hope of finding evidence to back it up.”
Jenkins had intelligent blue eyes, currently narrowed in frustration. “See this from our point of view. We get a call that a newborn baby’s missing. There’s no ransom note or phone call since the disappearance. No one has seen or heard anything. The last person to interact with the infant is the child’s mother, a woman with a mental health history who killed her ex-husband and has just given birth to an illegitimate child she may or may not want.”
The description was chilling, and infuriating in its surface accuracy.
“Rather than looking for clues as to who snatched the baby, you must have just been talking to a few people.” Connor folded his arms over his chest. “And you haven’t done much homework if that’s who you think Sophie is. But I’ll cut you some slack if you authorize that search. Your men are just sitting there. What can it hurt?” Someone had thrown Sophie under the bus, exposing her history. Who could it have been?
Jenkins took a long moment to lock eyes with Connor in a stare down before taking his walkie off his belt and barking orders into it. “And have the boyfriend and baby’s father help search, too. We can use the manpower with the amount of ground we have to cover.” Jenkins hung the walkie back on his belt. “Satisfied?”
“For the time being. Who did you interview so far?” He wanted the name of whomever had sold Sophie out, and he didn’t think it was Jake, Alika, or Alika’s formidable but loving grandma.
“I made a few calls before I got here, checking out her background,” Jenkins said evasively. “I know a few cops in Honolulu.”
Connor’s neck flushed. “Well, then, you can also take a little time to look up the Security Solutions website. Search my operative Sophie Smithson’s credentials. Check out her background in the FBI and her skills in computers and security. Look up Jake Dunn as well and check out his decorated past as a Special Forces commando. And read over my bio while you’re at it. That should bring you up to speed on who we really are.” Connor took out his tablet. “After that, I think we can have a more intelligent discussion.”
Jenkins tightened his mouth and waited a long beat, but when it was clear Connor wasn’t going to engage any further, he got out his smartphone and worked it with his thumbs.
Connor scrolled through his feeds. He highlighted several websites and articles as Jenkins perused the Security Solutions website. “Do you have an email address? I have some background information for you and your team to take a look at.”
Jenkins was impressed by what he had been reading so far because the man’s tone had changed as he rattled off the email address.
Connor shunted background he had gathered on Pim Wat to Jenkins. He had been studying Sophie’s elusive mother for a while now, and he’d prepared a file on her in case he should ever need to share it with some government agency or law enforcement. The international spy and assassin kept a low profile, posing as an intellectual socialite who supported obscure art and charity causes around the world. If ever the time had come to out Pim Wat to the cops, it was now.
“Okay, Mr. Hamilton.” The detective looked up from his phone at Connor. “I get it that you’re the billionaire genius CEO of a corporation that specializes in artificial intelligence home security systems, kidnap rescue, and private mercenaries.” He blew out an annoyed breath. “That doesn’t mean you get to take over this investigation and give orders to the Kaua`i Police Department. Let’s work together on this.”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” Connor exercised practiced charm as he smiled. “We are a close-knit group. The stress of this situation has gotten us off on the wrong foot. I just want to make sure that you have all the background you need to develop a fully informed investigation. Because the minute I heard the baby had disappeared, I guessed who might have taken her—Pim Wat, Sophie’s mother.” Connor swiveled the tablet to show a photo of the woman, dressed in a stunning evening gown and shaking the hand of Thailand’s prime minister. “There’s an open CIA investigation into this woman. Pim Wat is a member of the royal family in Thailand, and she married Sophie’s father, ambassador Frank Smithson, in order to gather intel on the United States. She’s an operative of a group called the Yām Khûmkạn.” Connor leaned forward, giving Jenkins good eye contact. “My theory is that Pim Wat took the baby as a way to gain leverage over Sophie. She has been trying to get Sophie to come to Thailand and get involved with her spy organization. It’s kidnapping, but there will be a different kind of demand than usual.”
“Wow, that’s some deep shit. Do you have any evidence at all of this theory?” Jenkins’s brows had risen.
“Trust me. This isn’t most cases. This one is way over your pay grade.” Connor rolled his shoulders in irritation. “I suggest you focus on how you can support me and my team, rather than muddying the waters by accusing one of my best operatives of doing away with her infant.”
Connor might have gone too far in asserting dominance, because Jenkins scowled and reached over to snatch the tablet out of his hands. “I think I will be taking this tablet into evidence. I need some corroboration of these wild-ass things you’re saying.”
“You’ll need a warrant, not to mention a ten-point encryption code to get into it. Good luck with that.” Connor stood up, heat and agitation bringing him to his feet. “What happened to ‘let’s work together on this’?”
Jenkins’s phone rang. He took a look at the number, frowned, and then stood up to answer it, walking to the other side of the room and turning his back as if that kept Connor from hearing every word. “Lei, this isn’t a good time. Yeah, I’ve got a kidnapping case here in Princeville . . . You know these people?” Jenkins swiveled to glare at Connor, and Connor returned his gaze coolly as the detective went on. “Okay. Okay, thanks for the heads-up. I’ll keep you posted.”
Jenkins ended the call. He walked over to Connor, handing back the tablet. “I just heard from my former partner, Sergeant Lei Texeira on Maui. She called to vouch for her good friend Sophie Smithson, and to ask me to let you guys take the lead on the investigation.” The man shook his blond head. “I’m not just handing this off to you with this wild story of international spies. You wait in here. If we find anything on the grounds to indicate that the child was taken by a third party, I will let you know. But for now, make yourself comfortable.”
The detective walked out. A moment later, Connor went to work with his tablet.
Chapter Four
Day Eight
Jake walked a slow grid on the grounds outside the mansion. The house’s main windows faced a vista of jutting green mountains, turquoise bay, and the smooth, wide curve of a river below. The grounds ended at a steep, jungled bluff plummeting into the Hanalei Valley, and stands of white-barked Java plum trees edged the property.
Alika’s newest development showplace included a guesthouse and was bordered by gracious plantings, clusters of bamboo, and islands of bird of paradise surrounding at least an acre of sweeping lawns. Hanalei Valley ahead of him was a captivating view, but Jake had no interest in any of it.
How had he even begun to suspect Sophie? How could he have even hinted of his darkest worry, let alone pretty m
uch accused her of it? It would be a miracle if she ever forgave him. Hamilton sweeping in and throwing his weight around was humiliating, but Jake was grateful for the change of perspective. Their boss clearly suspected Pim Wat, a thought that had flickered through his mind—but he’d been caught up in reacting to the messages he was getting from the cops.
Jake should have considered Pim Wat more seriously. He knew about the woman’s clumsy recruitment attempts, and her very silence in the last months prior to becoming a grandmother was suspect. He’d just been so relieved at her disappearance, and Sophie’s resultant reduction in stress, that he had put the woman out of his mind.
Jake scanned the smooth lawn, back and forth, back and forth—as his mind flashed to the many long hours of labor he’d been through with Sophie, sharing every tough and amazing moment with her and the midwife. Alika had joined them once the baby was born to meet his daughter, and it had been a beautiful shared moment among the three of them. A situation that could have been weird had somehow become their new normal.
Sophie had to know Jake loved her more than his own life, that he’d do anything for her and tiny Momi.
She’d forgive him.
Eventually.
He hoped.
Jake followed the officers checking around the windows.
His pulse jumped as he spotted a small, rounded shoe print in the soft soil near one of the windows leading into the office. He glanced inside and met Hamilton’s narrowed dark brown eyes behind those hipster glasses. The man was seated in front of Alika’s desk, cool as a cucumber, working his tablet. He gave Jake a brief nod, his face expressionless, when Jake pointed to the ground.
Jake yelled for the officer nearest him to come check the impression and look for fingerprints around the edge of the window.
Soon they were taking a cast of the footprint. It was just a partial, almost small enough to be a child’s shoe—and not likely to belong to whatever yard service kept the grounds in such immaculate shape.
Jake straightened up from watching the officer pour molding compound into the footprint, to see Alika returning at a run with the officer he’d left with for a longer check around the property’s edge. The two men jogged across the lawn from the scrim of trees that bordered the property.
“We found chopper tracks! There’s still fuel residue on the grass, and it looks like several people might have been camping out over there,” Alika called.
The officer with Alika ostentatiously ignored both of them and addressed the cop that was dusting for prints around the windowsill. “I radioed Detective Jenkins. Looks like someone was surveilling the house and took off in a chopper from beyond the trees.”
Jake pulled Alika out of earshot of the cops now clustered around the window. “You know choppers.” Alika owned a Bell Jet Ranger. “What kind of bird do you think it was?”
“Obviously I can’t tell the exact model, but the skid indentations were long enough to be a good-sized multi-passenger chopper. And someone was definitely staking us out from the trees.”
“I found a partial footprint outside the window, though I doubt we’ll be so lucky as to find any fingerprints on the sill. This looks to me like a professional snatch-and-grab. What I can’t figure out is why the dogs didn’t set off an alarm.”
They both turned to eye Ginger the Lab and Tank the pit bull. Both dogs’ noses were plastered to the glass slider that led off the dining room as they anxiously watched the activity outside.
“Sophie was napping and we were all in the great room when someone took the baby,” Alika said, his eyes closed as he reconstructed the series of events. “The dogs were in the room with us. Tutu had just made us all breakfast, including the dogs. Remember that? We were all on the phone and doing social media posts of the baby.” He hunched over suddenly, as if his stomach hurt. “Ah, dammit. Poor Sophie. I feel sick that we thought she might have had anything to do with it.”
Jake and Alika had formed an uneasy friendship in the months since finding out that Sophie was pregnant. Confident that Sophie and Alika’s romantic interest was over, Jake had come to see that the man had good instincts.
He had to tell Alika what Hamilton had proposed. “Our boss thinks this was Sophie’s mother—Hamilton was trying to send me a message before Jenkins threw him into the office.” Jake pushed a hand through his hair, considering how much to tell Alika. “Pim Wat has been trying to get Sophie to come to Thailand for a while now. Wants her to work for her spy organization. Sophie has refused. Maybe Pim Wat snatched the baby to get leverage on Sophie.”
“That evil bitch! What kind of woman does that to her own child?” Alika’s chest expanded. His eyes flashed. Even missing an arm, he was an intimidating sight when he was pissed. “Why wasn’t I told any of this?”
“It’s classified stuff, man. Need to know. Until now, you didn’t need to know.”
Alika bunched his fist. “Turns out I did need to know. Anything that has to do with my family is my business.”
“Noted.” Jake didn’t want to engage in the pissing match they’d been dancing around since they first got the news of whose baby Sophie was carrying—the situation was awkward enough. “I’m just glad Hamilton was able to point the cops in another direction.”
“We’re both going to be in the doghouse for a long time for even imagining Sophie had something to do with our daughter disappearing,” Alika said, voicing Jake’s worry.
“I better see if the cops will let me talk to her. I’ll let Sophie know that we’ve got evidence that Momi was taken by a third party. That might help.” Jake didn’t feel too hopeful.
Alika clapped him on the back with his remaining hand. “Better you than me, man.”
Chapter Five
Day Nine
Sophie lay in bed, curved around her empty belly and aching breasts, the comforter over her head to shut out the light, a return to old habits. She held the yellow flannel sheet that had covered the baby’s bassinet mattress folded close in her arms and bundled beneath her chin.
If she shut her eyes, she could inhale the smell of her baby, milky and sweet, still clinging to the bedding. She could pretend that none of the horror of the last hours had happened.
Sophie had cried until she was an empty husk, unable to answer questions from the investigator from KPD who’d implied that she might have had something to do with Momi’s disappearance. She’d been unable to defend herself coherently last night. Alika had eventually contacted the doctor they’d had on call for the birth after she’d wrecked the sideboard and Jake had to restrain her.
Jake and Alika had let her down. They were supposed to have her back! Instead, they’d both at least considered that she might have had something to do with Momi’s disappearance.
The doctor’s eyes had been kind as he checked her over privately in her room upstairs. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he’d asked when she told him to give her a shot to help dry up her milk more quickly. “If the baby is returned soon, you may not be able to nurse her.”
“She won’t be returned soon.” Sophie knew that in her bones.
Her mother had taken her child.
Nothing else made sense. Awful as it was, Sophie was sure of it, and she would need all of her strength and focus in the days to come.
“I need to be able to help find my child. That’s the priority. Can you put me on an antidepressant medication, too? I expect I will be having some difficulty.” The last thing Sophie needed was a bout of postpartum blues.
A call to Dr. Wilson, Sophie’s therapist, had confirmed her diagnosis of chronic depression, and the physician had agreed to write her a script. Esther, the only person Sophie currently trusted, had promptly gone to a nearby pharmacy to fill it.
Those things taken care of, Sophie had taken the tranquilizer the doctor recommended, and gone to bed.
She had allowed herself this one night to wallow.
One night to cry because she hadn’t been able to revel in her bond with her child and
nurture her daughter with her own milk.
One night to weep that she couldn’t enjoy the love of the unconventional family that surrounded her.
One night to be immersed in rage and grief and revenge fantasies about what she’d do to whomever had taken her baby—even if that person was her mother.
And now that night was over. There was nothing in her life from here on out but getting Momi back.
Sophie sat up slowly, forcing her aching body to rise. She got up to use the bathroom and change her pads. She paused upon returning, and frowned.
She’d been sleeping so heavily that she hadn’t noticed that Jake had joined her in the bed at some point. He hadn’t been with her last night, but he was breathing heavily in sleep now, on his side of the bed. His back was to her, the bulky triangle of his shoulder a mountain-like shadow in the dim light seeping through the drapes.
Jake had thought she might have done something to Momi.
Alika had thought so too, though the baby’s father hadn’t been stupid enough to say so. The cops had all implied it, grilling her over and over again with the same questions, hardly doing a perfunctory check of the grounds outside—and Sophie knew what they’d looked for so hastily: a hole in the dirt where she might have buried her child, some sign she’d tossed the baby off the cliff or smothered her in the laundry basket.
Just the thought made Sophie nauseous.
She turned away from her lover and walked to the window, moving the curtain aside to peek out into the brightness of midmorning. Today she would get ahold of Connor and find a way to get out of this house and look for Momi. Connor would understand, and he would help her without question. He’d never believe she could have done something to Momi.
The bed creaked as Jake got up. She heard his feet pad across the wide teak planks of the floor. She felt the warmth of his body, normally so welcome, against her back in the thin cotton gown she’d been wearing since the birth. His hands cupped her shoulders tentatively. “Hey.”