by Meryl Sawyer
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“I’ve got it.”
“Great. Did you…”
“Numero Uno, I took care of things like you told me to.”
Perfect! This was the kind of operative he liked. Someone who did exactly what he was told. Not a fuckup like the woman who blew it in Santa Fe. What’s more, the guy was smart enough not to say he’d slit someone’s throat while they were talking on cell phones.
“Got anything else for me?” 77 asked.
Brock pivoted and watched Jordan laugh at something Horst had said. “Not right now, but maybe later. Hand deliver the device to Obelisk on Monday.”
Brock strolled back to his car cheered by the news. With this new gadget in his possession, he could write his own ticket at Obelisk.
His phone vibrated again and he pulled it off his belt. Kilmer Cassidy, the CEO of Obelisk, was on the line. What did the prick want now?
“Anything on that Robbins woman?” Cassidy asked for the hundredth time since the bitch had disappeared.
“I’m working on it.”
“No progress at all?”
Brock detested the way Cassidy talked down to him as if he were some flunky. “We’ve eliminated several states. I’m working on the others.”
“How?”
“Checking new DMV records.”
“WITSEC gives every witness a new birth certificate and social security card. They must get a driver’s license on their own. Right?”
“Exactly. I’m relying on AgeComp to tell us if she’s altered her appearance,” Brock replied, referring to the age-progression software that had been developed to change the appearances of missing children as they grew older. Cassidy had heard all this before, but the greedy cocksucker had nothing better to do than harass Brock and check the offshore accounts.
“What if she’s in some big city where she doesn’t need a car?”
“That’s always a possibility, but a remote one.” He explained—yet again—how he’d figured Samantha Robbins was out west. “The only city where she wouldn’t need a car is San Francisco. WITSEC usually puts witnesses in less charming spots.”
“Santa Fe has plenty of charm.”
“True, but—”
“I say we tap her sister’s phone. I’ve said so all along. Do it.”
Cassidy hung up before Brock could reply. He cursed under his breath. Wire tapping the sister’s telephone probably wouldn’t help. Unless Samantha let something drop that would tell them where she was, they could spend eons listening and get nothing. Worse, they might be caught.
Every listening device—no matter how sophisticated—emitted a tiny electronic signal. He would bet his life WITSEC had their special software program monitoring the sister’s telephone. He needed to come up with a better plan. The key to finding someone was in their habits. You could change a lot about a person, but habits stayed constant.
BY THE TIME Devon finished the last chair and said goodbye to Keke and her sisters, it was almost eight o’clock. If Chad had returned home, he hadn’t come out to see them. She drove across town, thinking about him, her eyes on the rearview mirror to see if she were being followed.
Watching, all instincts alert, she checked the cars behind her, beside her, and even those in front of her. Experience had shown trouble could come from any direction, from out of nowhere. When you least expected it.
She had a cover story ready. Would Chad buy it? He was intelligent, and she wasn’t a very good actress. She was better now than before, Devon silently admitted. Being in WITSEC had transformed her into a person she no longer knew.
A person she didn’t like or trust.
The cell phone in her pocket vibrated. Her shoulders jerked back as if she’d received a shock. She had another phone in her purse, but since she’d been here, she’d received only a few calls—days apart. All of them had been from Warren. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the cell phone.
“Where are you?” Warren asked.
“I’m on South King Street on my way to get Zach. He’s still at the office.”
“Meet me at King Kamehameha’s statue.”
“Do I have time to pick up Zach?”
“No.”
Suddenly she heard the dial tone. Cold prickled her scalp and sweat dappled the back of her shoulders. Something was wrong.
She parked her rusted-out Toyota at the Federal Building near the Aliiolani Hale, the State Supreme Court building. The building’s stunning architecture had surprised Devon, when she’d first seen it. Instead of being built of coral, the way many of the original buildings were, this one was a Spanish-California design. She supposed it was a testament to the way the island had succumbed to foreign influences over the years.
In a square facing King Street stood King Kamehameha’s statue. The black and gold monument of the imposing warrior-chief who united the islands was remarkable for its feathered cloak and tall spear. During the day, tourists flocked to the area to have their picture taken. It was dusk now, and a few Japanese tourists lingered, garlands of cameras around their necks.
She didn’t immediately spot Warren, but she’d met him here often enough to know he would let her wander around for a few minutes before he casually joined her. She strolled through the area, alert for anyone she’d seen somewhere else. The people seemed to be a tour group from Japan. They scuttled across the street to visit the Iolani Palace, which in contrast to the Aliiolani Hale, was a Victoria monument complete with a Coronation Bandshell.
From her left, a shifting shadow caught her attention. Her ability to synthesize as much information as possible in seconds had become a survival skill. Warren, she realized, and her tense muscles relaxed.
“It’s getting too dark to look at the palace,” she whispered to him.
“S’okay,” he replied. “checkeId. It’s a Nippon-Paradise Tour that’s running late. No one in the group is a threat to you.”
Warren was thorough. She would give him that. He wasn’t as friendly as Derek, but he took his job seriously.
“WITSEC just alerted me,” he told her, his voice low even though there wasn’t anyone within earshot. “Someone accessed your DMV records.”
She drew in a deep hitching breath. When she’d been warned someone was trying to access her records in Santa Fe, it had been the harbinger of trouble. More than trouble. Romero’s throat had been slit, and the poor man had bled to death just for being her friend.
No matter what Curt Masterson had claimed, Devon believed Rutherford and Ames had obtained confidential information on her, either by paying off someone inside WITSEC or hiring a top-notch hacker.
“DMV records are fairly secure.”
“Define fairly,” she relied, bitterness burning in her tone. Once she would have believed him, but her experience in Santa Fe had proved how vulnerable she was.
“It takes a police ID number, usually a badge number to get the info. Cops need it for traffic violations.”
“Great. All it would take would be a legit number to access the database.”
“True, but it isn’t all that easy. The officer has to put down the reason. Officer Rafer Kamala went into the DMV records two hours ago. The reason he gave was ‘illegal parking.’ That’s common downtown.”
“I never park illegally. I haven’t gotten a ticket,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry with apprehension. “You warned me to be careful.”
He studied her for a long moment as if trying to decide if she were telling the truth. “Positive?”
“Absolutely.”
They had reached the end of the walkway and had turned back. They moved along in silence for a few minutes. Devon watched the people around them, while appearing not to do so. No one seemed interested, but she’d learned the hard way that looks could be deceiving.
“With a name like Kamala, I’d say the cop is from the islands. Wonder where he went to school?”
She saw where he was going with this. “You think he knows Chad La
ngston.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. The islands are tight. An ‘us’ and ‘them’ attitude prevails. ‘Them’ being—”
“The tourists.”
“Right. I’ve been here seven years. I’m not a tourist, but I’m not quite accepted yet.”
“I understand.”
Warren stared down at the pavement for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet hers. “Look, we’ve done our best to protect you,” he said, his tone apologetic for the first time since she’d known him. “We even did something we’ve rarely done to make Devon Summers a real person. We created a credit history for you.”
She knew this wasn’t standard policy. WITSEC gave everyone a new identity but it was up to the individual to get credit. Without a previous history, it was difficult. Masterson had done it for her because he wanted Devon Summers to appear to be a real person—should anyone check.
“I know. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful…but I’m frightened. You see, this is beginning to feel like Santa Fe all over again.”
The image of Romero flashed through her mind. She stared at the statue, then looked back at Warren. “I don’t want anyone else to die. I don’t want to leave, either.”
“You said you had a plan. Run it by me now, or I’m relocating you ASAP.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
KEKE SAW CHAD walking across the grass to where she sat with a group of parents watching their children play soccer.
“Hey, it’s great you could make it,” she said.
Chad took the seat beside her on the first rung of the bleachers. “I can’t stay, but I want Lui to know I stopped by.”
Keke smiled at her brother. Chad usually came to the games, and she knew it was because their father had been too busy to attend Chad’s games when he was little. Managing the Turtle Bay Resort had been demanding. Paul was under the same stress, although her husband came to a game at least once a month.
“The coach just took Lui out. I’m sure he’ll put him back in soon. He’s one of the best players.” Like you were, she wanted to add, but didn’t. Chad felt responsible for the family. She didn’t want to put more pressure on him by calling attention to how much like him Lui was.
Lui glanced toward the bleachers and saw his uncle. He gave a short little wave, too big a boy now to wave wildly at Chad. He would have six months ago, she thought. Time was passing much too quickly. Soon her babies would be grown.
“How’d it go after I left this morning?” her brother asked.
He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the field. She had the feeling he was distracted.
“I went home early to take the kids to the dentist. They’re getting fluoride treatments. Nola called to say they finished the chairs.”
“Great.” He looked around. “Where’s Mei?”
Keke tipped her head toward the grassy area behind the soccer field. “She’s with the younger children over there, playing tag. Susi Kameha is watching them.”
Just then Mei looked over, spotted her uncle, and came scampering across the grass.
“You’re in for it,” Keke said with a laugh.
“I don’t mind.” Chad looked at her. “Has Lui’s grandmother been to any of his games?”
“No. She’s too busy volunteering with the Society to Preserve Hawaii’s Native Plants and Flowers.”
Chad didn’t comment, but Keke knew what he was thinking. Their mother would never have missed a game. Paul’s mother came each Wednesday to dinner. Once a month she had them for Sunday lunch. That was all the time she had for her grandchildren.
Mei bounded up to Chad, her little arm’s outstretched. “Unka Chad, Unka Chad.” She planted a smacking kiss on his cheek.
“Pehea oe?” How are you?
“Maikai.” Fine.
Mei inclined her head coyly and gazed up at Chad with adoring blue eyes. Where did she learn to flirt? Keke wondered. Must be too much television.
“Want to see a nice doggy?” Chad asked.
“Yeah! Yeah!”
Keke asked, “Did you get a dog?”
Chad shook his head. “It’s Devon’s golden retriever. Let’s go see Zach.”
Keke stood, glancing quickly to the field to be certain Lui was still on the sidelines. Chad swooped up Mei and hoisted her onto his shoulders. They walked across the freshly mowed turf to the parking lot.
Keke saw a large honey-blond golden retriever with its head out the window of Chad’s gleaming black Porsche. Her brother was getting too close—too fast—to this woman.
“Nice doggy,” Chad said as they approached the car.
Keke saw the dog’s tail whipping through the air. He was a handsome dog, she thought, regretting that Paul was allergic. Her children wouldn’t be growing up with dogs and cats the way she had.
“Nice doggy,” mimicked Mei.
Chad guided her small hand to the top of the retriever’s head. “Pet him like this.” He helped Mei pet the dog, then released her hand. Mei continued to stroke the dog. “His name is Zach.”
“Nice Zash. Nice Zash.” Mei gazed at Keke. “Mommy can we get a doggy like Zash?”
Mei knew the answer, but like most kids, she kept asking. “No, sweetie. Pets make Daddy sick. We don’t want Daddy sick. Do we?”
Mei averted her head, her way of pouting. Keke knew it was difficult to understand, when most families had multiple pets and you had none. Maybe they could get a bird.
A tinkling noise announced the arrival of the ice-cream truck that came at half time. Mei squirmed in Chad’s arms, and he set her down.
“Here’s money for an ice cream.” He pulled a five-dollar bill from his money clip. “Keep the change.”
With round, gleaming eyes, Mei grabbed the bill. She started to charge off to join the line forming at the truck but stopped. She ran back to Chad, her arms raised. She gave him a quick smooch.
“Luv you, Unka Chad.”
“Love you, honey,” he replied.
She scampered off, and Keke thought, once again, what a great father her brother would make. Chad showed no signs of settling down, but he seemed unusually taken with Devon. Maybe she was “the one.”
Keke hoped not. Devon was beautiful and sharp, but there was a remoteness about her. Keke couldn’t see her sitting around all day at a luau, talking story with friends and family.
“What’s with the dog?” she asked.
“Devon didn’t come back to the office. She’s probably tied up getting this wedding back on track. Eddie wanted to go home. I left Devon a note saying I had Zach with me.”
“Without asking her?” Keke was surprised. This wasn’t like her brother, but then there was something about Devon Summers that made him behave in uncharacteristic ways.
“I thought I was doing her a favor.”
He sounds defensive, she decided as she watched him stroking the retriever’s head through the open car window. Keke wasn’t sure what to say. She pretended to be checking on Mei in the ice-cream line.
“You spent time with Devon,” Chad said, the timbre of his voice changing. “What do you think of her?”
I think she has your number—big time. “Honestly?”
The harsh lines bracketing his lips softened. “Hele. Hele.” Go on. Go on.
“I like Devon. She’s intelligent and gorgeous, but there’s something about her that’s…distant or guarded or—I don’t know. She’s different.”
Chad nodded rather solemnly, she thought.
“I can’t help thinking about what Ane said,” she said.
“Like Pele’s ghost, Devon is going to disappear.”
She knew Chad didn’t put much stock in island lore. Oh, no. He was too much a man of the world now, but in the back of his mind, what their mother had taught them had to still be there. There was always a kernel of truth in those myths. Keke had a powerful premonition.
Devon wouldn’t be with them long.
IT WAS NEARLY NINE-THIRTY when Rory came down to the beach to get Chad. He wasn’t sur
prised to hear Devon Summers was at the door.
“Send her down here,” he told Rory.
He’d deliberately taken Zach so Devon would have to come here to get her dog. He tossed the stick into the surf, and Zach bounded into the ocean. It was dark, but a hunter’s moon flooded the sugar-fine beach with pale light. Chad had been standing in the dark and throwing the stick for Zach for the last twenty minutes.
The whole time his mind had been on Devon. He wanted to get her alone. He needed to talk to her and get a feel for what was going on inside that pretty head. She’d lied about when she’d arrived and lied about where she lived.
What else had she lied about? If she had nothing to hide, why hadn’t she told the truth? What was she up to? Why was she working for a small outfit like Eddie’s? He couldn’t help remembering the way Eddie had been conned by the woman who’d held Shelby’s position. Devon had a much more powerful job with a lot of latitude to sign bills and work with vendors.
Vendor kickbacks for business were a fact of life in Hawaii. Devon was probably too new to realize this, but it wouldn’t take long. Knowing Eddie’s nature, Devon must have sized him up already and knew she could take advantage of him if she wanted. He wondered—yet again—if he’d made a mistake by encouraging Eddie to hire Devon.
Devon walked across the pool area and spotted Chad at the water’s edge. Some force stronger than her anger kept her from asking him what the hell he thought he was doing by taking her dog.
She watched Zach hurl himself with reckless abandon into the breaking surf, pursuing a stick. Chad had yet to notice her approaching, and she paused for a moment. Remember how much is at stake, she told herself.
Her stomach contracted. She hadn’t eaten, but it was more than that. She’d been apprehensive since she’d returned to the office and read Chad’s note. It had said he had taken Zach home, since she’d been working so late.
Why hadn’t he just walked Zach and left him at the office? She had a key. There would have been no problem getting Zach after everyone had left. She was certain Chad was up to something. He’d been digging into her past, causing trouble.