by Toby Neal
Her dark brows scrunched delicately. “I don’t have anything from there specifically, but I have an Asian collection I’ll show you.” Kennedy led Sophie toward the back of the gallery. Sophie tried not to swing her head or give any other indication that she was taking in all the information that she could about the gallery and its owner. “This is a beautiful gallery in a prime location. You must do a high volume.”
“It’s a bit seasonal. I’m not out on the floor except during our peak times.” Kennedy spoke coolly over her shoulder.
“I’ve always wanted to invest in an art gallery.” Sophie let her sentence trail off, hoping Kennedy might volunteer something. Once again, she was aware of her limitations as a field operative. Her friend Marcella was so much more glib, easily able to interview a witness without seeming to. Truth was, Sophie had no idea how to find out if Assan was involved with this gallery, other than hacking the woman’s computers, which she’d already done. She’d found nothing of interest other than a shortage of cash flow being propped up temporarily by a business loan from an unknown investor. Could that investor be Assan?
“Many people imagine being involved with the art world,” Kennedy said neutrally. “It’s almost as common a fantasy as writing a book.”
Sophie struggled for another leading question. “Do you store all your art on-site?” At least she could find out if there was more of the gallery she could investigate, and look for indicators of Assan’s presence.
Kennedy stopped suddenly, and Sophie almost bumped into her. “Are you interested in a piece of art, or not?”
Heat flashed on Sophie’s cheekbones. “Of course.” She drew herself taller, clipping her words in a haughty manner. “I was just making conversation. I’m happy to take my business elsewhere, if my questions make you uncomfortable.”
“My mistake.” Kennedy turned away. “I think you’ll appreciate this unique piece I’d like to show you.”
The woman was now suspicious, so Sophie ended up paying way too much for an antique Chinese watercolor. She left it at the gallery to be professionally framed because that would provide an excuse to return.
Sophie shook Kennedy’s hand at the door. “Thank you for a lovely art piece that I will enjoy for many years.”
“And mahalo to you for coming in today.” Kennedy had definitely warmed up at the pile of cash Mary Watson had produced to pay for the art piece.
Sophie would have to get more money before she went back to Oahu. Mary Watson’s bank account was periodically filled by Sophie’s trust fund, routed through a couple of shell corporations she had set up. She used it as little as possible, because it could provide a link to her if a searcher was careful enough to find it. She hadn’t yet figured out how to obtain an untraceable stream of cash to live on as Mary Watson.
Sophie thought about that as she walked out, conscious of a feeling of being watched.
She was beginning to get used to that feeling, a tightness between her shoulder blades as if a finger rested there.
Chapter Ten
Sophie’s burner phone rang on the seat of the rental car as she drove back toward Paia, and she spotted Jake’s number. She pulled over to answer it at a tiny turnout on the Pali, that winding and dramatic cliff route from the main town of Kahului to Lahaina on the western side of the island. Cobalt ocean foamed around black volcanic rocks thousands of feet below, and Sophie’s gaze feasted on the purple-brown smudge of the tiny barrier island of Kahoolawe, resting like smoke on the horizon. “Hello, Jake.”
“Are you still on island? Because I need you to come back to the compound.” Jake said.
“Why?” Sophie frowned. A strong gust of wind batted at the little car.
“Shank is on a plane to Maui from Canada. He got some of those dolls delivered to his hotel in Quebec, and he’s spooked. Refuses to go elsewhere to hide; says he’s coming home to Maui for a badly needed vacation, and that we can use him for bait to flush Blondie out.”
“Afterbirth of conjoined twins!”
“Whatever you just said is my feeling exactly. I called Bix and he agrees you should come back to the house. Help me manage our rock star and the situation. I’ve already worked with the guys on an op to capture Blondie; we’ve got extra security cams and stuff to set up that I’d like to run by you. I really need you here.”
Sophie sighed. “All right. But I won’t stay long.”
“We can argue about that later. For now, get your ass back here.”
“Do not talk to me like I am one of your men to be ordered about,” Sophie snapped.
“Sorry. I just…” Sophie could practically see Jake pushing a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Just come back here so we can go over the plan, please. Partner. Equal. Most ass-kicking female of my acquaintance whose expertise I need on this case.”
“That’s better.” She smiled. “On my way.”
Shank Miller looked even paler than Sophie remembered as one of his bodyguards opened the limo’s door. Decorative chains clanked from his leathers as he got out, his long hair bundled back and rings gleaming in his ears. The man likely slept during the day to rest up for his nighttime concerts, much like the vampire he resembled.
Sophie had changed out of Mary Watson’s outfit in the guest room into her standard work outfit, and she stood with the other staff as the rocker greeted Jake with a hug and backslap. Antigua, Pepe, and their two junior security staff all stood in a row with Sophie on the end, a queue of servants greeting the lord of the manor upon his return.
Miller worked his way down the line of staff, greeting them and asking personal questions about their family and health. No wonder the man was popular.
“Hello, beautiful,” Miller purred when he reached Sophie, taking her hand to press a kiss on the back of it. His dark eyes, lined in kohl, twinkled up at her. “I have been working out hard. Trying to build some bulk.”
“That’s nice, Mr. Miller. I’m sure your health has benefited,” Sophie said politely. Clearly the rocker had not forgotten an earlier, tactless comment she had made about his physique. “I would be happy to join you for a workout some time.”
“I will take you up on that. So, remind me of your role here, again?” He hadn’t let go of Sophie’s hand, and Jake frowned from behind the rocker’s back.
“I’m Jake’s partner with Security Solutions. My specialty is computers and I’m here to support your team, but mostly to train the artificial intelligence home monitoring security system we’ve installed,” Sophie said.
Miller turned to Jake. “Brilliant and beautiful.”
“I know. And you’re only schmoozing her because she said you look like a heroin addict and implied you weren’t attractive.”
“I was struck to the heart,” Miller agreed. “My delicate male ego is still trying to recover.”
Sophie removed her hand from Miller’s and rubbed residual dampness on her pants, a gesture he watched with fascination. “Like I said, I’ll be pleased to work out with you some time. I hope you are not still offended.”
“Is she always this literal?” Miller asked Jake.
“Afraid so.” They both studied her.
Sophie cleared her throat. “We should really move on to more urgent business, like the problem of Blondie and how to catch her. You should be flattered, Mr. Miller. Some women would like to love you to death. Literally.”
“Don’t remind me.” Miller shook his head and turned to head for the double doors of the mansion, addressing the two bodyguards standing by the limo. “Butch, Andy, bring my things and that nastiness that was delivered to my hotel room. I’ll meet you all in the living room once I’ve had a shower and feel human again from the plane flight.”
When the Security Solutions team gathered, sitting around an octagonal card table to review the Blondie situation, Shank did look better. Sipping a green drink Antigua had prepared for him, he gestured to the bag of Barbie dolls on the table. “I want to know how Blondie found me in Quebec. As you can see, I gave Butch
and Andy the night off so we could speak freely.” He took another sip of the green drink. “Herold, my bodyguard for the longest amount of time, retired last year and I just don’t trust these two the same way. Can you check them out? I mean, more thoroughly than just the usual background check?” Miller’s eyes found Sophie. “I hear you have some sort of super program that can find out everything about a guy down to his dick size.”
“That would be an unusual search parameter,” Sophie said, as Jesse and Ronnie snorted with laughter. “But yes, I can do a deeper background check on them, pull up their financials and so on—though I must warn you, it’s not strictly legal to do so.”
Miller waved a hand. “They’ve signed agreements to have transparent records, not that I’ve utilized that clause in the contract. No one but my immediate team knew my location in Quebec, and I went in and out of the hotel in disguise. I’m worried one of them sold me out.”
Jake sat forward, resting his elbows on the green felt surface of the table. “We discussed how Blondie got dolls into the estate here while you were gone, which seemed to show she didn’t know where you were. It’s concerning to see that she found you.”
“That’s why I’m home now.” Miller drained the last of the health drink.
Sophie picked up the bag to examine three new plastic figures. “Any prints on these?”
“No. The guys checked,” Miller said.
Sophie shook the figures out onto the card table and examined them closely. Each one was labeled with a day and time of retrieval. The blonde female figures continued to wear bridal outfits, but the mutilations on the male figure had progressed: both arms missing, both arms and a leg, and finally, limbless and sawed in half.
The attention to detail on the hand-drawn tattoos was remarkable.
“That last one sure is creepy.” Miller pointed to the dismembered doll, his mouth twisted down.
“Indeed it is.” Sophie looked up at Jake. “Did you tell Mr. Miller what Dr. Kinoshita said in her evaluation?”
“Female. Obsessed. Escalating. There’s a potential for bodily harm if she gets ahold of you,” Jake told Miller.
The rocker shuddered. “God forbid.”
“You should read the report.” Jake pushed a copy from his file over to Miller.
Miller pushed it back. “I’m having enough trouble sleeping without giving this psycho any more room in my head. I trust you all to handle this.” He stood abruptly. “I’m going to get some rest. Let me know when you’ve come up with a plan to catch this bitch.” He left, and closed the door a little too hard.
Sophie looked at Jake and their two staffers. “He seems upset.”
“Wouldn’t you be? Look into the backgrounds of those bodyguards, pronto. I ran the usual Security Solutions protocol on them and found nothing.”
“I will, of course.” Sophie frowned thoughtfully, picking up one of the dolls. “I don’t remember seeing this ‘tattoo’ drawn on one of these dolls before.” Sophie pointed to a tattoo on the male figure’s groin, an area beneath what would have been his beltline and not visible to public scrutiny. “Looks like it might have been someone Miller had sex with? I don’t believe there are photos circulating of this tattoo, do you?”
“We’ve thought of that. Have a whole album of blondes he’s slept with, and mini-profiles on them,” Jake said. “I can show them to you, if you like. Shank is partial to blondes, so there’ve been a lot.”
“Not necessary right now. This person really studied his tattoos. Have you considered it might be one of the artists who worked on him?”
Jake’s brows snapped together in a frown. “No. But that’s a good lead to pursue. In the meantime, I want to lay out our ideas to lure Blondie out into the open. And until we clear his bodyguards and the rest of the staff, the plan doesn’t go beyond this room.”
Chapter Eleven
Done with the meeting eventually, Sophie dove into the familiar wired world as soon as she’d set up her laptop in the same guest room she’d used before. Putting on her headphones, turning up the air conditioning, dimming the lights, she settled her body into an ergonomic chair as her fingers flew over the keyboard. Not even sleeping felt so much like an escape.
She had missed the gray maze of the cyber world, a place where she traveled weightless, bodiless, fast and free, screened from distractions by Beethoven crashing in her ears.
Sophie routed the cams set around the house into the central processing software and sped up the image integration, gathering all the bits and pieces gathered over the time that Security Solutions had been working at Miller’s house. She then launched the compilation and assessment algorithm and trained the cameras on Miller’s sleeping and living areas. A few days of data gathering, and the AI software would have all the information it needed, now that the master of the house was back in residence.
She moved on to using DAVID for a deep background check on the two bodyguards. It didn’t take long to uncover a financial weakness in the profile of Daniel “Butch” Callahan, the older of the guards. A former Army sergeant, Callahan was in debt to two ex-wives and seemed to have a gambling problem, if his frequent flights to Vegas were any indication. He ran a balance close to redline in most of his accounts.
A touch on her shoulder jerked Sophie around. She took off her headphones. “Antigua! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
Antigua set a tray heaped with beautiful island food onto the desk beside Sophie. “Half of a sunrise papaya, filled with homemade yogurt. Pineapple muffin. Mango pancakes.” She set a large mug of steaming, dark liquid beside it. “And Thai tea, just the way you like it.”
Sophie pushed her chair back from the desk, reaching up to stretch her arms above her head, groaning at the stiffness. “You are very kind, Antigua. Thank you.”
Antigua squeezed Sophie’s shoulder. “I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s two p.m.”
“I got absorbed in my work.” Sophie shook her head, but that made her aware of the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes, tired from focusing on the screen. “I lost track of time.” She picked up the tea and took a sip. “This is delicious.”
“I have to keep our best computer gal fueled up.” Antigua rested a hip on the desk as Sophie sat down and dug into the papaya, moaning at the delicious taste and sensuous texture. “We’ve been worried about you since the attack on the beach.”
“Jake is a …” Sophie search for the word, trying out an Americanism. “Fussbudget.”
“Not just Jake. Our whole team has been concerned.” Antigua straightened the linen napkin she had brought with the meal, smoothing the seams precisely beside Sophie’s plate. “I hope you’re okay. I have been sending you positive energy.”
“Thank you. Knowing that my ex is loose and trying to kill me is difficult.” Sophie looked up at the other woman. “It’s good to be back at my computer, to have something to take my mind off it.”
“I understand.” Antigua paused for a moment. She cast her eyes down and cleared her throat. “Jake and I are sleeping together. I just thought you should know.”
Sophie’s face froze into the neutral mask she had learned to hide behind. Her chest seized up but she made herself breathe normally. She didn’t care, did she? She’d made choices, and so had Jake.
“None of my business. I already have a boyfriend.” Sophie’s heart pounded with strange, slow thumps as if a hand were squeezing it. “But I’d think my partner would have told me if he wanted me to know something so personal.”
“You know guys.” Antigua flipped a hand and smiled, her luminous teeth flashing. “The last to kiss and tell.” She stood with a fluid movement. “But you’re partners, so I thought I’d keep you in the loop. I think he was really into you at one time. I hope you’re okay with the situation. Wouldn’t want it to be awkward.”
“Why would it be awkward?” Sophie made herself smile. “I’m glad for Jake to have someone. Just like I do.”
“We’re having fun.” Antigua’s
smile was so bright it hurt Sophie’s eyes. She really liked Jake. “I’ll let him know I told you.”
The woman squeezed Sophie’s shoulder again as she left the room, leaving the scent of Tahitian gardenias in her wake.
Sophie had the same feeling as when that Welsh fighter Mega Hammer had caught her in the solar plexus last year and her breath had been blasted out of her lungs. She forced herself to finish the food on the plate. That assessing look in Antigua’s eyes had been measuring how attached Sophie was to Jake.
No, it was none of Sophie’s business what those two did in their private time. She had chosen Connor, and just thinking about their night together warmed her, in spite of all the questions that remained.
Done with the meal in spite of her lack of appetite, Sophie took the plate into the kitchen and rinsed the dishes at the sink, relieved Antigua was nowhere to be seen.
Jake entered, dressed in his usual all-black, vibrating with energy. “Did you make any progress?”
“I did.” Just looking at him, Sophie felt better. She really was glad he had someone—he deserved to be loved! “Looks like there might be an issue with one of the…subjects.” Sophie flicked her head in the direction of the camera embedded in the corner of the kitchen. Talking about the bodyguards on video was not a good idea. Jake gave a curt nod.
“Let’s go to the surveillance center and you can get me up to speed.”
He led her toward the guest cottage where the center was set up. The main room was cluttered with surveillance equipment, monitors, and the personal items of three men living in close quarters, and Sophie immediately felt claustrophobic, glad to have her own bedroom and workstation elsewhere in the house. She perched on a seat at the small multipurpose round table. “Did you talk to Detective Cruz about what happened to Miller in Quebec? What is MPD doing to address the increased threat?”