by Toby Neal
She plugged it in, booted it up, and activated mirror VPNs to mask her location. The IP she was using was already secure, but with the leak they had, she couldn’t be too careful. She sent a quick message to Connor: “I’m in with WITSEC. Going to test the agent I’m with now. If she’s good, we can bring her in to help.”
Sophie stared at the pulsing green cursor for a long moment, thinking. Finally, she typed, “Do you know anything about the Yām Khûmkạn?”
And then she shut down the chat window and removed the SSD. Matsue, on her side of the table, appeared oblivious, lost in her own work.
She booted up DAVID next and checked her caches, then she tossed out the bait. “I have intel through my data analysis program on a possible breach in WITSEC.”
Matsue glanced up to meet Sophie’s eyes, her brows drawing together in a frown. “How could you know anything about that?”
“Don’t forget, I was the one to locate the ‘Jones’ family body dump. After that discovery, I put some online countermeasures to work, and I found a possible breach in your agency,” Sophie said.
“When you lie, make it as close to the truth as possible,” Connor had told her once. “That way you can speak with conviction.” He would know. The Ghost was a master of misinformation.
Matsue looked over at Rayme’s closed door. They could still hear the muffled dialogue of her TV program. “You have to share this evidence with me,” Matsue hissed.
“You can’t tell anyone,” Sophie said. “Not even your supervisor. Until we can set up some way to stop the leak.”
Matsue tightened her lips. “You’re throwing around some pretty heavy accusations, and I don’t even know you. Why should I believe anything you’re saying is true?”
Sophie shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you must suspect something is wrong.”
“That family had an identifiable security breach.”
“And that’s how your dirty agent is hiding the leak: by selling out only the info of witnesses who don’t follow protocol exactly.”
Matsue glared.
Sophie stared back coolly.
“All right, I’ll bite. What’s this breach?”
Sophie had already set up a hidden keylogger file with a link back to her cell phone that recorded everything Matsue typed. “I found a virus that’s tracking your inputted case notes and is mining for witness locations.” The truth was close.
“I have some skills. I can look at the data and see if it’s what you say.”
“But you can’t report it to your superiors. We will monitor it instead, and let it lead us to the IP of the agent running it,” Sophie said.
Matsue’s mouth turned down. “That’s not the protocol.”
“But as an outsider, I don’t trust anyone in your agency. And I don’t have to. I’m choosing to trust you, only.”
Matsue got up. She strode back and forth, a slender wand of coiled tension. Sophie tried to read if that strain was a dirty agent on the edge of discovery, or if her body language was that of a loyal one caught in a difficult situation.
She could not tell.
Truth was, Matsue’s flat expression would have been hard for even Dr. Wilson to read.
“All right. Send the info to me,” Matsue barked. “And tell me what we’re going to do to stop this.”
Sophie sent a screenshot of the code as Matsue sat down in front of her laptop. “I’m planting an additional bit of code that will mirror back to me what the virus does,” Sophie said. “We can see who it’s communicating with.” This was a simplified explanation of what Connor had already set up online.
“I don’t like it.” Matsue stared at her computer screen.
Sophie met the woman’s eyes over the top of her computer. “And you think I like being in WITSEC, knowing you have a leak in the program?”
Chapter Fifteen
Pim Wat smoothed the turquoise cheongsam dress down her petite, delicately rounded body, pleased with the way the custom-fitted silk hugged her slender curves.
“You haven’t aged a day, mistress,” her maid cooed, tugging the hem, patting and smoothing the fabric over her hips and buttocks. Armita had been with Pim Wat since childhood and was allowed such liberties. The dress came to Pim Wat’s knees, but a slit rode high on one of her slender thighs. Her legs looked endless in a pair of ankle-laced Louboutins. “No one would believe you were the mother of an almost thirty-year-old woman.”
Pim Wat narrowed her eyes. “Stand, Armita.”
Armita stood. Pim Wat’s heels caused her to tower over the smaller woman. “Put out your arm.”
Armita did so. The maid shivered with fear. Good. Fear was essential, as was the hope of praise, even for a servant as loyal and intimate as Armita.
Pim Wat dug her nails into the skin at the back of the woman’s arm and twisted the tender flesh in a vicious pinch. Armita cried out but didn’t move away. She knew better.
“Never speak of my daughter. You have lost that right. And never remind me of my age. I am ageless,” Pim Wat hissed. “Say it. Feel it. Believe it.”
“You are ageless, mistress, a goddess. Beautiful and eternal as dawn breaking over a new day.” Armita’s large brown eyes shone with conviction, with feverish passion. “I only meant to say so and was clumsy about it. Let me worship you.”
Pim Wat considered. Armita was skillful with her hands, mouth, and a few key sex toys. It might be good to go into this meeting with the glow of an orgasm on her cheeks. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall of the luxurious suite. “No. There is no time.”
Armita’s gaze fell, her whole body slumping in disappointment. Pim Wat extended a finger, lifted her chin. “You still please me. You may worship me later. But never mention my daughter. You know why.”
“Yes. Because I failed you, mistress.” Armita’s eyes stayed down. Her lush mouth drooped. “The kidnappers took Sophie Malee on my watch. I can never be forgiven.”
“Exactly. But we can forget, for a little while.” Pim Wat leaned in to kiss Armita’s forehead gently. “Now get my purse. I want to go down early and get the right spot.”
Pim Wat perched on one of the stools of the elegant bar at the Four Seasons Hualalai near Kona. She approved of the hotel’s spare, modern, templelike ambiance with its terraced layout and emphasis on wood and glass. Sunset was just beginning to streak the ocean with gold and red, the colors of abundance and royalty.
She had seated herself in such a way that she could both watch the door and the view. The ocean, in the distance, was a restless cape of blue movement in the soft, warm evening.
The bartender handed her the martini she’d ordered. A nasty drink, but she liked the shape of the glass, the way her hand looked holding it. She sipped, and winced—the vodka burned, icy and tasteless.
Pim Wat spotted the CEO of Security Solutions as he stood in the bar’s doorway, recognizing him from the bio picture on the company’s website.
Sheldon Hamilton was well-groomed for a Hawaiian setting, wearing elegant clothing: a raw silk shirt, well-cut black trousers, Italian leather loafers. His dark hair was expensively barbered. Brown eyes behind stylish glasses scanned the room. He carried himself with the leashed power that spoke of a background in martial arts.
Hamilton had arrived early as well, no doubt hoping to have the surveillance advantage. Pim Wat’s lips tightened in a tiny smile as his gaze flicked over her and moved on. She hadn’t described herself; she had said only that she had an urgent need for his employee, Sophie Ang, and must discuss it in person. She’d had to bulldoze her way through several layers of underlings to get this meeting, and to judge from the man’s tight jaw and tense posture, he wasn’t happy to have been forced to come, even to a setting as beautiful as this one.
Pim Wat slid off the stool with a sinuous movement that rippled the tight silk dress, and that caught his attention—as did the slit to her thigh. She lifted her glass to identify herself as she caught his eye.
Hamilton’s full attention felt lik
e a heat-seeking missile headed her way. His focus raised goose bumps on her arms, tightening her nipples delightfully. Hostility radiated around him as he stalked through the bar—but by the time he reached her, he’d tamped it down.
The CEO stood before her, urbane and controlled, all that danger packed away neatly. “Madame Maison?”
“Oui.” Pim Wat had adopted a French accent to go along with her favorite French identity. “So pleased you could make time for me.” She extended her hand.
Hamilton took it, pressed it between both of his, holding her gaze with intense dark eyes. “Enchanté, Madame.” He smelled delicious—some expensive, personally blended cologne. “I could not wait to meet this woman of mystery who is interested in one of my most valuable employees. And now, I’m delighted to have come all this way.”
Pim Wat lowered her eyes modestly. “I hope it wasn’t too far.” She tingled, and wished she’d taken the time to get the edge off of her sexuality with Armita’s help.
“Only a few thousand miles.” Hamilton gestured to her glass. “I see you are already drinking. I’ll have the same,” he told the bartender. The man bustled off.
Hamilton gave Pim Wat a tiny boost onto her stool and sat beside her on his. She made sure her sleek bare leg was extended, brushing his trousers, and that their feet were aligned. Her sexy shoe looked perfect beside his equally fine footwear.
“I love the view here.” Pim Wat’s pulse fluttered. She savored the feeling. Almost nothing scared her any more, but something about this man both aroused and frightened her.
She ticked through the profile Armita had put together on Sheldon Hamilton: a reclusive billionaire computer genius, he was the head of a massive security company whose crown jewel was an artificial intelligence residential surveillance program. Hamilton had developed that program, along with his recently deceased partner, Todd Remarkian. Rumors persisted, but had never been proven, that the company had many shady clients on its roster.
Nothing about any of that explained the feeling Hamilton gave her, but Pim Wat had learned to trust her intuition. There was more to this man than she yet knew.
“I admit I’m jaded. I’m in a position to keep myself in beautiful settings as much as possible. This one is acceptable.” Hamilton’s teeth were brilliant as he smiled. “Tell me about yourself, beautiful lady.”
“I am here on the island. Vacationing.” Pim Wat shrugged. “I would like your employee, Sophie Ang, to do a computer-related job for me. I hope it wasn’t too much of an imposition for you to meet me in person to discuss this. I left messages for Ms. Ang but she has not returned my calls.”
“As I said, I almost never do client meetings in person, but this time, I’m glad I made an exception.” Hamilton lifted her hand and played with her fingers, with the massive emerald that graced one of them. “How have you heard of Ms. Ang and her unique skills?”
“Oh, I have people who find me the very best things.” Pim Wat smiled. “This emerald I’m wearing, for instance. It’s called the El Corazón de Colombia. It’s from the heart of one of Colombia’s greatest mines. Flawless.”
“It’s exceptional.” He continued to toy with the emerald, but his gaze was all on her. His attention warmed her like wax. “As are you, Madame Maison. Exceptional.”
“Merci. You are too kind.” Pim Wat blinked, breaking eye contact. She pulled herself together and took a sip of her martini. His drink had been delivered, and he clinked his glass to hers.
“To new partnerships.”
“Yes. New partnerships,” she echoed. This man was getting to her! She was supposed to be getting to him, finding out where her daughter was and leveraging her into the Yām Khûmkạn. “So, will you loan me Ms. Ang?”
Hamilton shook his head regretfully. “I cannot promise anything. She is an independent contractor, and right now, she’s on an assignment. Unreachable. But if you are patient, I feel confident she will be interested in your opportunity.” He sipped his drink. “Tell me more about it.”
“Oh, I am disappointed. The situation is a bit time-sensitive.” Pim Wat frowned. “Are you sure you can’t…contact her for me? Put a word in her ear? It is a bit of foreign travel, but all expenses will be taken care of, of course.”
“Of course. You were going to tell me more about the assignment?” His elegant brows raised.
He was hypnotizing her! The suggestiveness of Hamilton’s voice, the cadence, the way he phrased things…thanks be to Buddha, she had been trained to recognize and resist hypnosis by the psy-ops arm of the Yām Khûmkạn.
“Oh. Yes.” She sipped her drink. “It is a very sensitive situation. I have ties to the royal family of Thailand. My family assists with their security. Recently, there have been some…incursions.” She might as well appear compliant, tell him as much as she could; there was no downside to that. “Our computer systems are outdated, but we are upgrading. We would like to install your artificial intelligence home security system in several very sensitive locations. Only Ms. Ang will be allowed to work in those areas. Because of her family connections.”
“Tell me about her family connections.” Hamilton leaned closer. His breath fanned her neck, her ear. His voice loosened her belly. She shut her eyes to fight the hypnosis.
“Ms. Ang is related to the royal family on her mother’s side,” Pim Wat whispered, allowing herself to bend in his direction, allowing her head to fall forward as if the weight of her long, thick, coiled hair weighed it down. “They will never trust an outsider.”
“And you are close to them. To her.”
“Yes.”
“Sophie is a valuable asset to my company.” His voice slid over her like satin fingers. The heat of his body was melting her clothing right off. “Will she be in danger?”
“Only if she betrays us,” Pim Wat said. She jerked upright, blinking. She’d spoken too much truth that time.
He’d done it again! This man was dangerous.
She turned to Hamilton, sliding off the bar stool into his personal space, allowing her breast to brush his arm as she slid past him. “I must go. I will wait to hear from you. I trust it will not be long.” She extended her hand for an obligatory goodbye, but barely allowed her fingertips to touch his, avoiding his eyes and his seductively murmured “au revoir, Madame.”
She was desperate to get away, to shake off his spell.
Pim Wat walked stiffly, teetering on her heels, through the bar. She’d never been so clumsy in her life as she fought a magnetic pull to go back to him.
Pim Wat didn’t breathe easy until she was on the elevator going back up to her room.
She had to stay far away from Sheldon Hamilton.
Chapter Sixteen
Sophie had arrived early for her meeting with her father and his Secret Service agent. She positioned herself behind a large potted palm so she could survey the Hilo Bay Hilton’s busy foyer, and so far, hadn’t spotted anyone who seemed to be tailing her. Because of her recent memories of this very place, she wished that her dad and Agent Ellie Smith had chosen a different hotel, but she had received a text that afternoon that they had arrived on island and wanted to see her right away.
Sophie’s father, Francis Smithson, walked into the lobby with the ease of a much younger man, and Sophie felt a smile tug up the corners of her mouth as Frank opened his arms to her.
Her father was imposingly tall and broad-shouldered. His hair was going gracefully gray at the temples. His hug engulfed Sophie in warmth and support. “Even with all the mystery of why we’re here on the Big Island, I’m glad of any excuse to see my girl.”
Just the sound of Frank’s deep, resonant voice could lower Sophie’s blood pressure and make her feel happier, safer. She shut her eyes, leaning on her father’s strength and breathing in his familiar spicy aftershave.
“I love you, Dad.” They embraced for a moment, then Sophie stood back. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. I’m sorry about the secrecy. When I explain why, though, you’ll understand.”
“I sure hope so. We had to do considerable rearranging to come over here.” Ellie Smith’s voice was mild as she walked up to them. The woman had intelligent deep blue eyes and wore her dark brown hair in a no-nonsense, sleek updo. Her crisp white shirt and navy trousers looked both stylish and functional. Sophie glimpsed the bulge of a sidearm under her jacket.
“Good to see you again, Ellie.” Sophie shook the agent’s hand. “I’m sure it was challenging to get Dad here. I wish I had a happier reason to see the two of you than what I’m going to tell you. We need to speak somewhere private.”
Ellie nodded. “We’ll go up to your father’s room. I’ve already swept it for bugs.”
On the ride up in the elevator, Sophie mentally ran through the story she would share. It wasn’t going to be easy.
Her father reached out and tweaked off her ball cap, ruffling her short, dense curls. He tipped up her chin with a finger, frankly studying the scar of the skin graft running up Sophie’s cheekbone and into her hairline as she gazed into his eyes. “You don’t need to hide behind that hideous hat, Sophie. The scar gives you an air of dangerous beauty, of intrigue.”
“Ha. Intrigue is right.” Sophie’s face was still a sore point for her. “I’m not hiding it, Dad. I’m undercover.” She took the hat from his hand and put it back on.
Her father smiled. “I didn’t think you were a huge proponent of the marijuana lifestyle.”
Ellie Smith’s expression was serious as she caught Sophie’s eye. “Does this meeting have something to do with a case you’re working?”
“No.” Sophie pursed her lips. Smith wasn’t acting too annoyed, considering the inconvenience and expense Sophie was putting them through—but Sophie couldn’t discuss the Chang case.
The ambassador’s hotel suite was the same layout and design as the one Sophie had just spent the night in with Alika. It was mildly tormenting to stand in an identical room, just a few floors above, and look out at the same view that she had experienced briefly for those blissful minutes.