Paradise Crime Series Box Set

by Toby Neal

  The apartment was a bland and uninteresting interior office space, done in shades of industrial beige and gray. A series of modular metal office furnishings, their drawers hanging open and file cabinets empty, testified to having been hastily vacated—but several older computers still dotted the room, and Sophie pointed to them. “I need all of those.”

  Sophie sat at the long rectangular conference table in one of the conference rooms at Honolulu Police Department. Ranged around the table were Marcella’s fiancé, Marcus Kamuela, Lei, and Chimes, the sergeant in charge of the SWAT unit. Sophie had set her write blockers to work copying the hard drives of the confiscated computers during the meeting.

  “The fact that the office was empty and quickly abandoned points to someone monitoring the situation and being able to pull out before detection,” Sergeant Chimes said. He was a husky mixed Hawaiian and looked ready for business, still dressed in SWAT black. “According to the building manager, the office was a month-to-month lease from a company that paid cash. The manager saw employees come and go, and a lot of activity this last Friday. But it never seemed like anything suspicious. According to him, Smith Enterprises did telemarketing.”

  “Telemarketing is the perfect cover for a money laundering or gambling front,” Kamuela said. “The lack of supplies going in or out is explained by the nature of the supposed business.”

  “So why would this shell company have wanted the GPR report from Taggart? And why would he have given it to them?” Lei asked.

  “I think we will have to ask Taggart that,” Sophie said, rubbing the scar on her cheek as it tingled uncomfortably, a side effect from the laser treatment. “And as to why, that is how that latest burglary attempt was able to pinpoint the location of artifacts and extract them. Once I get these computers pulled apart, I hope to be able to determine how they knew we were coming, and where the report went from here.”

  The afternoon passed relatively peacefully for Sophie as she searched through the office computers’ hard drives. She finally called it a day at around seven p.m. and contacted Lei on her cell. “These computers were empty. That whole raid was a total waste of time and effort. Whoever cleared out the offices took the computer that received the GPR file with them.”

  “I’m not getting anywhere with my leads, either,” Lei said. “Let’s meet Marcella for a drink.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Duke’s by the Beach was a classic surfer-themed restaurant bar. Over loaded potato skins and bottles of beer, the three women compared personal notes. Marcella flashed the sparkling diamond engagement ring her fiancé Marcus Kamuela had given her.

  “I told Marcus not to get me some ridiculous rock, but the man never listens.” Marcella said, fussing with the ring, but the pink in her cheeks told Sophie that she liked the ostentatious diamond in spite of her complaint. “My biggest worry is that it will catch on something during a case. I hardly ever wear it during the day.”

  Lei held out her hand, decorated with a practical band of small, channel-set diamonds. “I can wear this one pretty much anywhere. Stevens knew I wouldn’t tolerate some big rock—sorry, Marcella.”

  Sophie waggled her bare hand. “Meanwhile, your single friend is barely dating.”

  “I don’t know. If I had to choose between Connor and Jake, with Alika on the side, I am not sure who I would pick.” Marcella bounced her brows and grinned.

  Sophie snorted. “Alika is out of the picture and Jake is my partner, and that’s all. And Connor?” Sophie smiled. “Well, Connor is a very good kisser.”

  The other women toasted to Sophie’s new relationship. “But I don’t know how things can progress very well between his schedule and mine,” Sophie said. “When this case is over, which it will be when my contract runs out at the end of the week, it looks like my next job is on Maui, too, and will likely be pretty immersive as we develop security for a rock star who is being stalked. I don’t know how much time I’ll even have to see Connor.”

  “But you’ll have plenty of time with Jake,” Marcella said, elbowing Sophie.

  Sophie just shook her head, sipping her beer.

  “Quit giving her a hard time, Marcella,” Lei said. “I’m sure it’s not easy having a hot, single partner who’s attracted to you—let’s not lie during girl-time. Jake’s into you. An idiot could see that, and it makes me so glad Pono and I always had the brother and sister dynamic going on. He nags, fusses like a mother hen, and we end up finishing each other’s sentences—but I’ve never had to deal with any weird feelings or mind games. That cannot be fun.”

  Sophie nodded. “Yes. Jake called me just this afternoon and was upset that I hadn’t told him I was going to Oahu, when it was clearly none of his business.” She stabbed her fork into a potato skin and cut it so vigorously that she jiggled the table. “That reminds me. I never got back to him about the raid. But frankly, his behavior is…” Sophie shrugged and focused on eating, eyes on her plate. It was hard to put into words the complicated feelings she had for Jake—sometimes like a brother, sometimes like a friend, and sometimes…something else.

  Marcella shook her head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. My partner, Matt Rogers, couldn’t be more married. When I was single, it was annoying that he always wanted to get off work on time and get home for a meal with his wife, put his daughters to bed—but now I realize that’s a much more balanced way to live.”

  “Absolutely.” Lei dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Being home with Stevens and Kiet is the high point of my day. I don’t know why I was so phobic about making a commitment for so long.”

  “You two are not helping. I’m not sure how much I want to get involved with Todd…” Sophie swallowed past the lump in her throat of all she couldn’t tell her friends about Connor.

  “He’s perfect for you!” Lei said. “I can’t imagine a better partner for a computer workaholic who loves fitness like you.”

  Frustration and sadness at the necessary omission of the reason for her ambivalence tightened Sophie’s throat. She could see why they thought he was perfect for her—and he was, except for the one, giant, glaring problem—the Ghost. “We will just have to see how it goes.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Sophie woke to the second hangover of her life. “Not again. Never doing this again.” She groaned, and rolled to the side of the bed, setting her feet carefully on the floor. Ginger reached up to lick her face with an eager tongue, and the sensation sent Sophie running to the bathroom. She managed not to vomit, but it took a few minutes of deep breathing for her stomach to settle. She rinsed her furry mouth and brushed her teeth, hoping to get her energy flowing again.

  Several cups of tea later, Sophie picked up her phone and checked her messages. Connor had left a text: cracked the code on the blackmail list. Come get it. Also, I missed you last night.

  Sophie texted back. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Americans say. Just putting that theory to the test. I will be by in an hour.

  An hour seemed ambitious to feel better, so she texted Marcella: got any hangover cures? Marcella had some ideas, and several aspirins and a bottle of orange juice later, Sophie showed up at Connor’s apartment with Ginger in tow.

  “Got any hair of the dog to put in here?” Sophie held up the jug of orange juice she was sipping on. “Marcella told me to ask you for some. Said you’d know what that meant, and that it wasn’t hair from Ginger.”

  Connor broke into a grin. “You’ve come to the right place, my hungover friend.” He led her to a wet bar concealed in one of the cabinets of the room’s sleek, modern decor. “A dash of vodka in that OJ ought to fix you up.”

  “Yes. This is what Marcella recommended as the final part of my hangover cure.” Sophie sipped at the concoction, and grimaced. “I went out with my friends last night, and I’m really not a drinker. I didn’t even have any alcohol at my apartment to do the hair of the dog with.”

  “Well, you certainly brought a hairy enough animal,” Connor said as
Ginger rapturously fawned over Anubis. The two dogs wagged and sniffed, and even frolicked a little in the spacious living room. “I copied the blackmail list onto the stick drive. Do you want to go back to the Batcave and work on it?”

  Sophie’s first smile of the day felt good. “The Batcave is a good name for your office. I should probably just hand the list straight over to Lei, but I can’t wait to dive into it and cross-check the initials you uncovered with the names of everyone we’ve associated with the case so far.”

  Connor’s secret office was as cool and peaceful as she remembered it, and putting on her headphones and diving into the wired universe through the secure rig Connor had set up for her felt like finding an unexpected haven. She loaded the name file she had already created that included all of the employees of the Hui, everyone they had so far uncovered associated with Mano’s murder case, and all of Mano’s known business associates, though Sophie was prepared to find out that list did not reflect half of the scope of whatever his activities had been.

  It didn’t take long for the list to ping with several names—and one of them raised Sophie’s brows. “Got a name here that Lei is going to be very interested in.”

  “Going to share?” Connor slanted a blue-green glance at her.

  “I can’t. We have confidentiality agreements. But I’ll tell you as soon as I can, and you are overdue for a thank-you.” Sophie got up and rotated Connor’s chair so he was facing her, and before she could second-guess herself, she climbed onto his lap and straddled him, ignoring his surprised intake of breath.

  Taking Connor’s face in her hands, Sophie kissed him.

  Oh, so good.

  She seemed to sink into him, and he into her. He tasted of coffee and passion, and sensation zipped up and down Sophie’s spine, tingled over her skin, and softened her heart. Connor’s arms around her gave her the same sense of a surprising haven that the computer work area he’d made for her had wrought.

  She kissed him some more.

  Connor finally broke their embrace, looking up at her. “That’s some thank-you. Want to continue this…elsewhere?”

  Sophie smiled. “I have to get this information to Lei. And I don’t want to rush whatever comes next. This will just have to be a preview.”

  Connor squeezed her and stroked her. “Consider me hooked by this trailer, and eager for the opening night premiere.”

  Sophie touched his cheek and hopped up off of his lap. “I have to run. But keep my chair warm.”

  Connor’s smile made her think of dawn breaking over Haleakala. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Lei danced a little jig in her borrowed cubicle at the HPD, holding the stick drive aloft. “You’re amazing, Sophie, and whatever Security Solutions is paying you, it’s not enough.”

  Sophie grinned. She hated taking credit for Connor’s work, but it couldn’t be helped. “I have often thought the same of you, Lei. But this has never been about the money, has it?”

  Lei smiled back. “No. It hasn’t, it’s about the satisfaction of getting guys that need to get got.”

  Sophie couldn’t help thinking of Connor’s determined expression as he told her the why of the Ghost: “because it needs to be done, and because I can.”

  She and Lei did what they could, too.

  Lei plugged the stick drive in to the departmental computer and booted up the list that Sophie had cross-checked. “Blackthorne? I thought Blackthorne Industries made an offer on the Kakela site.”

  “Yes, they did. After the site was burgled, that offer was rejected. My theory is that Mano sold out the GPR report to Blackthorne, and then tried to blackmail him. Blackthorne, or whoever was representing him, took matters into his or her own hands with the rock found on the premises—and I think it was a male perp because Mano’s body would be hard for a woman to move from where he was killed in the parking lot, to the pit where the body was dumped.”

  Lei nodded. “That’s a good working theory. If Blackthorne’s behind the artifact looting, we should find some evidence of it at his home.”

  “He seems pretty well-connected. Will likely have legal representation,” Sophie said.

  “That’s fine. With his name on this blackmail list, I’ll have grounds to get the search warrant.” Lei rubbed her hands together. “This won’t take long. Go find the gear you used for the other raid. We’re going on a field trip to search a mansion.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Blackthorne’s estate was a sprawling compound in the Kailua foothills. Lei, Sergeant Chimes, and Sophie barreled through winding roads over the mountain. As she always did, Sophie tried to steal glances at the sweeping views of the spectacular mountain range, corrugated and deeply green from the frequent rains. Huge albizia trees, draped in vines, provided shade and green cover over the spectacular highway, and wild ginger scented the air beneath.

  But all too soon that drive was over, and they turned into an upscale neighborhood. Sophie was surprised when they ran out of development and continued on a small, winding, well-kept road flush with the mountains.

  Sophie tightened down her Kevlar vest and pulled her hat low over short, thick curls. Her unmarked black SWAT gear seemed like something she should just keep in her car, as frequently as she was wearing it.

  The sergeant drove confidently down the road. “The Blackthorne estate has been here close to a hundred years,” he said. “They’re one of our oldest missionary families. Got all this land back in the day before it was worth anything and have hung onto it ever since.”

  “Any local gossip you can tell us about Blackthorne?” Lei asked. Sophie liked how her friend was always alert for an investigative opening in conversation.

  “He’s a big philanthropist to Hawaiian causes. Supports Kamehameha schools and donates annually to the Bishop Museum. He’s a good guy.”

  Sophie took a closer look at the man’s pinched mouth as Lei narrowed her eyes. Clearly, the sergeant didn’t like his current assignment.

  “Does he have a family? Anyone we should be concerned about upsetting with this warrant?” Lei asked.

  “He’s divorced. No children.”

  “Do you know him socially?” Sophie asked on impulse.

  Chimes gave a brief nod.

  “You should have told us,” Lei said. You could have been excused from this detail.”

  “It’s fine. Hopefully I can help this go more smoothly. We were classmates at Kamehameha. Class of ’83.”

  “Then let me take the lead,” Lei said. “And if it comes to that, you can be ‘good cop.’” That was Lei’s version of a joke, because she never played anything but bad cop. Sophie smiled.

  The house was accessed through a pair of tall, carved tiki columns marking the gate. Chimes spoke into the intercom. “Honolulu Police Department, here on a private matter.”

  The black wrought iron gate retracted and they drove forward toward a low, plantation-style mansion sprawling over an area of verdant gardens with a stream winding through it and several artificial waterfalls. As Sophie got out of the police SUV, she heard nothing but the call of birds and the trickling of running water.

  “Nice place,” Lei said. Chimes nodded.

  They walked up a wide porch done in lava stone, and Lei rang the doorbell. A gong echoed somewhere deep inside the house.

  A few minutes later, a petite Filipina woman answered the door. She wore black yoga pants and a tank top with a ruffled white apron over the whole outfit. “How can I help you?”

  Lei and the sergeant held up their credential wallets, and Sophie held up her ID from Security Solutions. “We are here to search the premises. Here is a warrant,” Lei said, handing the document to the housekeeper. “Is Mr. Blackthorne available? We would like to speak to him.”

  The maid’s eyes widened as she took the proffered document. “Wait right here. I will get him.” She closed the door with a bang.

  Chimes shifted his weight nervously as Lei stood, relaxed but assertive, her hands on her hips and legs s
lightly spread. Sophie took a moment to check her phone.

  A text from Jake: “What the hell is going on? You were going to call.”

  Sophie suppressed irritation and shoved the phone into the back pocket of her black cargo pants as the door opened again.

  Brock Blackthorne was five foot eleven inches, and had what Sophie thought of as ‘gym muscles’—overdeveloped arms attempting to compensate for a round gut and bandy legs revealed by a pair of baggy golf shorts. Salt-and-pepper hair topped a florid face, and his hazel eyes snapped with intelligence. He held the warrant aloft, his gaze immediately going to Chimes. “Henry. What the hell is this?”

  “Hey, Brock.” Chimes stepped forward, extending a hand. “Sorry this is coming out of left field. Let me explain.”

  Blackthorne ignored his gesture. “I’ve already called my lawyer. What is this about?”

  “Sergeant Lei Texeira.” Lei stepped forward and held up her ID. “That is certainly your right. However, we do not have to wait until your attorney arrives to begin our search.” She indicated Sophie, who also held up her creds. “Security specialist Sophie Ang will be assisting us with this examination of your home and computers.”

  Blackthorne’s brows snapped together as he held out his hand for their IDs, and with a contemptuous stare, took Chimes’s as well. He took a long moment to inspect them, then stood aside from the doorway silently. “My attorney has advised me to cooperate and wait on his arrival.”

  “Thank you.” Lei stepped across the threshold first, followed by a chastened Chimes, with Sophie bringing up the rear.

  The interior of the house had a feel of old-world Hawaii charm, with wide-planked polished wood floors that smelled of beeswax and lemon, a collection of gleaming calabashes on a sideboard, and finely woven lauhala matting defining a huge living area decorated in the heavy, curved rattan chairs and couches covered in aloha print that had been popular in the fifties—but the fabric was bright and sturdy, and the rattan gleamed.