As the sky turned from gray to light blue, Ty’s arms were suddenly around her.
On the far horizon, the edges against earth turned slowly pink, then deep red. To the Hawaiians this was sacred. The crowd of hundreds grew silent. A park ranger began performing the mele oli, a melodic, ceremonial chant to welcome the sun and the day, as the sky above grew bluer and the sky below turned orange then golden.
“Here comes the sun,” Ty whispered in her ear just as the tip of the golden sun peeked above the mountain.
It lit the clouds above orange, pink, and gold. As it warmed the earth, ground fog rushed down the sides of the crater and into the bowl. The sun shone through the fog, throwing shafts of sunlight vertically through it.
It was hard not to get caught up in nature’s spectacle. Hard not to feel that something large, profound, and eternal was happening. Hard not to feel all alone in the crowd. Treflee’s eyes stung with the emotion of it all.
She’d never seen a sunrise so beautiful or pristine before. Sunrise on the top of a volcano.
As the sun rose fully to the point where it sat in the bowl of Haleakala, Treflee couldn’t take the feeling of insignificance and loneliness. She leaned back into Ty.
He lifted her hair from her neck and kissed it.
This was peace and heaven.
“Awesome,” she whispered.
“Oh, babe,” he cooed into her ear.
The sun climbed higher, lighting everything on fire. With Ty holding her, Treflee felt the fire, too. Everything felt right. Maybe it was right. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe Ty did care. Maybe they were soul mates. Maybe what he gave her was enough.
She turned in his arms to face him, looked up at him, deep into his eyes, to see if he felt it, too. His eyes sparkled. He tilted his head and leaned down to kiss her.
Her breath caught. She lifted her face to him. His insistent lips came down on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth to him.
Never in her life had she experienced anything like the thrill of kissing Ty on this volcano, in this communal place where heaven met earth, backlit by sunrise. Where her soul seemed to collide with his and she felt the full meaning of her wedding vows—she was one with him.
She wrapped a lock of his hair that fell down the back of his neck around her finger. Her tongue danced with his. He kissed her greedily. She couldn’t get enough of him.
She was lost in his kisses, so oblivious to the world around them that she was startled when someone jostled into them. Treflee’s eyes flew open in time to see a man clap Ty on the shoulder before moving on.
From her vantage point, she only got a fleeting look at the stranger as he blended with the crowd and disappeared.
Ty put one hand in his jacket pocket.
And then it hit her. He was checking for something. This was all a setup, a drop he’d carefully planned. Kissing her at the spiritual moment of sunrise was probably the signal all was clear to proceed. The guy, a fellow spy, had bumped into him and placed something in his pocket.
Even here, in this pristine, sacred place, Ty was working. And working her. She pulled away from his kiss.
Now that the sun was up, people began dispersing. Her awareness of her surroundings came back. The park ranger was telling people to come back and see the sunset or return to watch the stars. The park was open twenty-four hours. Very little light pollution up here. Lots of observatories. The Air Force Maui Observatory was even here. Very important air force spot. Largest telescope the air force owns. No, you can’t take a tour. Top secret stuff there.
Air force installation? What a coincidence.
Treflee stared at Ty and whispered, “That was a drop, wasn’t it?”
When he didn’t answer, she shoved him away from her. “You’re always working. Always. Whenever I need you, even if it’s just to reach out and touch you so I know I’m not alone in the universe, you’re working. Was kissing me a signal?”
“Tref—”
“Can it.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re pissed, but stay undercover or the deal’s off.”
Her heart raced. She wanted to slap him. Hard. Hurt him like he kept hurting her. She wanted that divorce. She needed that divorce so she could move on.
“That wasn’t the deal.” She hated the way her voice shook.
He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Look, I’m sorry. Is it so wrong to mix business and pleasure? Can’t a guy do both at once—save the free world and get the girl?”
He looked and sounded sincere and truly puzzled by her reaction.
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
He reached for her, stroked her chin, put his hand behind her head. “Kiss and make up?”
She stared at him.
“Don’t fight. People are watching,” he whispered as he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.
“Fine.” She could pretend it didn’t matter. She could act as well as he could. She reached up and stroked his chin, then very gently kissed him on the lips as lightly as a butterfly landing on a flower.
Keoni yelled at them and waved them over. “Come and get it. Breakfast’s ready!”
She pulled away. “Great. I’m starving.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Keoni had set up a continental breakfast with tea and coffee in the back of the van. It was nearly six-thirty. The sun continued to put on a show, lighting up this cloud and that, changing the color scheme as it rose higher and higher toward daytime. From her volcano vantage point, Treflee felt almost as if she were free-falling above the clouds obscuring the body of the island. Her emotions were certainly on a downward slide.
Damn Ty for using her. She blinked back tears, trying to pretend they were the result of the emotional power of the sunrise. Soon the clouds would burn off, leading to another beautiful day in paradise. If only she could find a way to put Ty out of her mind and enjoy it.
Treflee had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, it wasn’t until she got close to the van that she noticed the group of Chinese people at the bicycle tour van next to theirs. The Chinese group lounged and breakfasted on bowls of runny porridge, dunking strange fried crullers in it as they talked and laughed. Their breakfast looked like something you might see in a bad Chinese remake of a Dickens movie. More gruel, sir, please!
But the Chinese gang ate with gusto, appearing content and excited. Maybe it was only her imagination, but they seemed poised on the brink of an adventure and happy about it.
This particular Chinese group was all handsome people between twenty and thirty-five or so, an even pairing of men and women. They wore identical black spandex bike pants, lightweight bright yellow windbreakers emblazoned with Chinese characters and a logo of a red dragon surrounded by a red swoosh that looked as if it had just been dashed off by an artist’s brushstroke, and matching yellow T-shirts. Just below the dragon logo were the English words “Chinese Adventures, Tailor-Made Experiences.”
Treflee recognized them at once as the Chinese wedding party from Mrs. Ho’s. Plus the words “sponsored by Sugar Love Plantation” printed on the backs of their jackets were a dead giveaway.
The whole group was a walking billboard.
It’s funny how initial perceptions taint observations. When she’d first seen the Chinese group milling and crowding around at Big Auau, she’d assumed they were bride and bridegroom, together with their bridal party. But now as she watched them, she was struck by how they each seemed paired off as couples, obvious couples. In love.
What a stark contrast to Carrie’s ex-bridal party. While some of Carrie’s girls may have been looking forward to a one-night stand with one of the groomsmen, they were all decidedly unattached.
Treflee frowned, perplexed, playing a game of “guess who’s the bride” to divert her thoughts from Ty and occupy herself as she helped herself to a Styrofoam cup of coffee and a coconut-cream-filled pastry.
Next to her, Ty put his hand in
his pocket while he sipped his own cup of black coffee. The pocket into which she’d seen him drop whatever he’d received earlier.
Curious. True, whatever Ty was investigating involved the Chinese. But she’d never known him to be unnecessarily wary or cautious. Which meant—this particular set of people was somehow tied to his mission.
She stared at them, momentarily stunned and horrified by the realization. Her coward instinct kicked in. She pictured the dead Chinese waiter and inhaled deeply; remembered the feeling of suffocation as someone garroted her with a lei.
Running blindly through a Halloween house of horrors was nothing compared to the knee-buckling fear and panic coursing through her now. She leaned against the van to steady herself and took another deep breath.
“You’re oozing,” Ty said. He pointed to her pastry.
She’d pinched it so tightly that coconut cream was seeping out the bottom.
She barely acknowledged him and didn’t even taste the coconut cream as she automatically licked it off.
She had to get out of here. Get home. As soon as possible. Whatever was in Ty’s pocket suddenly seemed like the key to her freedom.
With it, she’d have leverage over him. Unfortunately, she was a terrible pickpocket. But not such a terrible flirt. Not if she put her mind to it. If she could make him believe she was no longer hurt or angry, if she could get her hand in that pocket …
She’d have to be careful or Ty would figure out what she was up to.
She’d been so busy plotting her escape, she hadn’t realized she was still staring at the Chinese wedding party until she felt a tug on her sleeve.
“You no like our breakfast?”
She turned to find a pretty, young Chinese woman standing beside her.
“Congee and yu za kuei, deep-fried devils, very good.”
“Oh! Sorry for staring.” And thank you for the cover story. Thank goodness the Chinese woman didn’t know what Treflee had really been thinking. “You speak English! Yesterday at the plantation, I didn’t think anyone could.”
The woman shrugged and smiled shyly. “I shy. Not confident with English. Do better one to one than in crowd.”
Treflee nodded. “I didn’t mean to insult your breakfast.” She held up her cup of coffee and pastry and forced herself to smile. “I’m sure ours looks equally unappealing to you.”
The woman made a comical face. “You right.”
Treflee laughed, juggled the coffee and pastry into one hand, and extended her other. “I’m Treflee.”
“Abi.” She took Treflee’s hand and smiled. Handshake complete, Abi pointed toward the lone single man in her crowd. He was watching them. Treflee couldn’t decide if he looked happy that Abi was talking to her or not.
“My husband soon,” Abi said in her thickly accented English. “Feng. Feng mean wind. Abi mean bird. He wind under my wing.” She made a flapping motion with her arm and laughed at her own humor.
“You’re the bride! I was wondering,” Treflee said. She hadn’t guessed Abi.
Abi waved her hand over her group. “All brides. And men marry us. Twelve couples.”
I frowned. “Bridal couples? All of you?”
Abi’s smile deepened as she nodded vigorously. “Yes. All. We get married Saturday. Twenty-sixth. Double happiness day. Good day for wedding.”
“All on the same day?” Treflee shook her head. “What a scheduling nightmare!”
Abi shook her head, no. “No nightmare. Get married all at once. Same … how say?”
“Ceremony?”
Abi nodded.
“What! All at once, really?” Treflee had never considered a group wedding. In her opinion, every girl deserved her unique, special day. That was the American way. She couldn’t stop herself from saying so.
“No. It good thing. Group wedding in China done all time. Sometime even employer do for promotion.
“This wedding dream made true. No pay for big American wedding at home. This way, free. We enter contest with Chinese Bride Magazine, Chinese Adventure Travel Agency, and Sugar Love Plantation.” She said the name so clearly it was almost comical.
“Get whole thing no cost. American white dress. Trip. Flowers. Cake. Food. Three-day honeymoon stay. Wedding video by Mrs. Ho. All free.
“Mrs. Ho do very best videos and wedding pictures, very impressive. Everyone want.”
“You’re very lucky then,” Treflee said, sensing she should act impressed.
Abi nodded. “Chinese Bride Magazine do feature story on Mrs. Ho. Say she tell romantic story that make her videos special. Tech guy analyze her video files. Say very large. Hi def. Big bit technology. Use only .gif and .wav files. No lossy technology for Mrs. Ho. Excellent quality.”
Treflee had to smile at the cute way Abi parroted things like “lossy technology,” whatever that was, from a magazine article. She was certainly a smitten bride. “But you’re away from family and friends. Too bad they couldn’t see you get married in person.”
Abi smiled deeply. “No problem. Mrs. Ho have video room in basement of Sugar Love. Stream our wedding with live feed to family and friends and Chinese Bride Magazine readers in China. For family, just like they here! Big deal for everyone.”
“How nice,” Treflee said.
“Yes. Nice. We get have wedding picture in travel brochure, too. Chinese Bride Magazine. Ad for travel agency. Five minutes of fame.” Abi winked.
“Can’t afford in China. Feng want impress me. Convince me he the one. Love me much. Girls scarce in China.” She smiled her lovely smile again and giggled. “Must win me or I choose someone else. He be alone. Not get girl as good as me. Not get any girl maybe.”
Though from her tone it sounded like there was fat chance of Feng not getting her. The light in Abi’s eyes as she talked about Feng made Treflee sentimental. She remembered her own wedding day and how things used to be with Ty, who was still standing very quietly next to her.
“Feng enter contest. So many forms to fill out. So much, how you say, tape? He almost get discouraged and give up. But he do it. For me. Write big letter why he want wedding. He very good writer. Win. I marry him.”
“On double happiness day,” Treflee added, feeling her eyes mist.
Abi was so thin and petite, her voice so melodic, she made Treflee feel like a big, pale horse by comparison. Abi would be a beautiful bride.
Abi looked at Treflee’s group and pointed. “You stay at wedding house. Your friends with you? Who marry?” She leaned in and whispered as she slyly pointed at Ty. “You marry him?”
Treflee’s heart skipped a beat. For a second, she thought she’d been found out.
“No!” Treflee shook her head and explained about Carrie’s canceled wedding. “So no happiness at all for my cousin on double happiness day.” The thought made Treflee terribly sad.
She wasn’t sure Abi understood the whole story, but apparently she got enough.
“You come my wedding!” Abi’s eyes lit up. She nodded hopefully.
“Well…” Treflee wasn’t keen on spending any more quality time with potential bad guys or enemy agents. And judging by Ty’s reaction to them, one of Abi’s party must have been just that.
“Must come! Blond American at wedding good luck! Be honored guest. Take picture to show family in China. Very good thing.”
Treflee couldn’t see any way to refuse. “Sure. I’d be delighted.”
Abi nodded toward Ty. “Bring guest if you like.”
Feng waved at Abi. “Have to go now. Nice to meet you. See you later!”
Next to Treflee, Ty grinned widely. “You make friends fast. Don’t wait too long to invite me along as your date. My calendar fills up fast and I need time to press my slacks.”
“Who says I’m inviting you, eavesdropper?” She gave him a flirty little smile and took a big bite of pastry, actually tasting it for the first time.
“A little bird indicated I should be your first choice.”
Since he seemed so interested in Abi an
d her party, Treflee had the feeling the real reason Ty wanted to go to the wedding had more to do with business than pleasure. If that was the case, and someone in their party was the enemy, she’d be safer with him beside her than not. In the unlikely event she actually went to the wedding. She shrugged. “It’s a date, then.”
* * *
Message received, Ty thought as Abi walked away. “Wind under my wing” was the code phrase that meant a friendly message. Very clever the way she’d delivered it, talking apparently innocently to Tref while delivering the message to him.
Abi was MSS. Ty hadn’t recognized her at first or at Big Auau. She was good with a disguise, playing the shy, young bride-to-be. But now he remembered her clearly. She was one of George’s former MSS contacts. George had been hot for her, had had a real thing for her. Damn, he missed George. Too bad George and Abi had never worked out.
NCS had been trying for the last six months to discover how Mrs. Ho was smuggling the data Hal sold her out of the country and into their Chinese contingent. They suspected she used steganography, stego as it was called in the business, to hide messages in innocent-looking pictures or music files. Unfortunately, stego messages were hard to detect and often encrypted when found.
The CIA had analysts using stego-detecting software on every picture and piece of music Mrs. Ho posted anywhere on the Web. Nothing.
Abi had just handed them the golden ticket. Stego images on live feed video. Ingenious. Family and friends of twelve couples viewing it simultaneously along with multitudes of magazine subscribers. Just try to find the RIOT agent who was reading the file for the algorithm and data Hal was selling.
A video lab in a basement at Sugar Love. That was new, too. Very few basements in Hawaii, especially so close to the beach. There wasn’t one in the plans the CIA had for Sugar Love.
Ty wondered if Mrs. Ho might have found a useful series of uncharted underground caves or lava tunnels. That was about the only kind of basement that made sense there. Either that or she had one hell of a sump pump.
The Spy Who Left Me Page 14