Wired Justice

by Toby Neal

  “Let me try to phone her. I doubt she’ll pick up; she usually turns everything off, closes the curtains, and goes to bed during one of these episodes. Last time she had a really bad one was when her boyfriend was killed.”

  “I remember that, of course. Call me back, ok?”

  “Will do.” Marcella ended the call.

  Jake hated being so helpless, so useless.

  He dropped to the ground and did one-armed pushups. Right side, left side, then a couple of hundred crunches. Not tired yet, he did lunges and burpees. Someone banged on the ceiling from below, so he lay down and did bicycle sit-ups until the phone rang.

  His phone buzzed. “Tell me something, Marcella.”

  “The person she met in the park was her mother.”

  “Oh shit.” Jake sat up on the bed and tried to calm his ragged breathing. “They are estranged, right?”

  “Yeah. Sophie hasn’t seen her mother in nine years. Supposedly, Pim Wat Smithson was catatonic in an institution. Turns out she’s not as depressed as she pretended to be. Everything Sophie thought she knew about her mom is a lie.”

  “What did her mother want?”

  “Some sort of reconciliation, I guess. Sophie wouldn’t say. But it has thrown her for a loop.”

  Jake ran a hand through his hair, grabbing it in his fingers and giving a rough tug. “I can deal with it as long as it’s not my fault.”

  “Well, Jake, depression is a chronic illness. It’s no one’s fault.” Marcella sounded completely matter-of-fact, and he was relieved at the implicit acceptance there. “When she’s been in her hole too long, and I think anything more than a day is too long, I break in, open the drapes and turn on the lights, make her get in the shower, feed her, and give her something to do. Once she’s moving, she seems to get better. But she won’t like it. Don’t expect hugs and kisses or gratitude.”

  “Duly noted. Thanks, Marcella. I’m glad she told you what the problem was. I hope she trusts me enough someday to tell me what’s really going on with her.”

  “Sophie is a complicated woman. She’s got more baggage than a freight train. If it’s not too late, you should run.” Marcella softened her words with a laugh.

  “Not gonna run. And it’s already too late.” Jake laughed too. “So now you know how I feel about her. Thanks again.”

  He ended the call and stared at the closed door between the rooms.

  He’d give Sophie until tomorrow morning to come out; and then he was going in.

  Jake woke at six a.m. and took the dogs for a run around the spectacular horseshoe of Hilo Bay. The palm trees stood still in the morning calm. Mynahs hopped and chattered on the smooth, mowed expanse of the park. Gentle waves lapped at the jetty. Jake tried to find peace in the beauty, but he was too disturbed. What was Sophie’s mother doing in the United States?

  Jake had a lead for them to pursue, a good reason to roust Sophie out of bed. He planned his strategy as he took a shower and shaved in the little bathroom in the seedy motel.

  He knocked on the connecting door when he was dressed and ready, but there was no reply. He took out his toolkit, extracted his lock picks, and two minutes later, stepped into her room.

  The darkness was complete—only a line of light showed beneath the pulled blackout drapes. He spotted the mound of her, pressed up against the wall, as he shut the door.

  The plan he’d had, to rip open the curtains, tear off the covers, and roll her out of bed—suddenly seemed way too cruel.

  He walked over, stumbling a little in the dark, and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Sophie.”

  Sophie didn’t move. Her sweet, unique scent enfolded him.

  He touched her bare shoulder. The rest of her naked body was buried in the cheap hotel comforter. Her skin was as cold as it had been yesterday.

  Operating on instinct, Jake lifted the covers and slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close, tucking her head under his chin. She was as passive and unresponsive as a doll.

  Jake shut his eyes, willing the energy and vigor that filled him to flow into her. Maybe it would just seep out of him somehow. In any case, he was warm and she was cold; whatever he could give her, he would.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sophie felt Jake get in beside her, surrounding her, his warmth beckoning her back from that dark place deep inside herself, that familiar gray desert where nothing mattered.

  Jake had always been intrusive. He was so irritating that way, big and loud and pushy. He would not leave her alone. He was trying to break into the protected fortress of her heart. He was dangerous.

  But he was so warm. One of his big hands stroked her head. “Your hair feels so soft. Better than petting the dogs,” he whispered in her ear. Such a way with words. Sophie would have smiled if she could have come back enough to do that.

  Jake settled her closer, shifting her into his chest, her head pillowed on one of his biceps. He gave a deep sigh as if giving up all his tension. She felt him relax, the thick hard muscles that created so much heat around her going soft and vulnerable. A few moments later, she felt his slow, even breathing as he slept, the metronome of his heart beating against her back. And soon she slept too.

  Sophie was overheated, and there was a weighted blanket holding her down. She struggled to lift it, and woke suddenly.

  The hot weighted blanket was Jake. His arm was draped over her, so heavy that it smothered. She could feel him behind her and around her. Deep rumbling snores lifted the hairs beside her ear, making her smile.

  He had vanquished the darkness.

  Yes, she could still feel the depression around her, flapping its ugly wings, trying to drag her back down—but the sickness was pushed back, manageable. She could breathe, she could move, she could think.

  A change in Jake’s breathing signaled he was awake too. One arm was underneath her so her head was resting on it, and the other, draped over her waist. His hand began to move, sliding lightly up and down her side.

  Sophie shut her eyes and let herself enjoy the tingling sensation, the awakening of her nerves. After being in her robot body, it felt like circulation returning to a limb that had fallen asleep. His hand slid from her waist to her hip, down her leg, back up again to her shoulder, cupping the round of her deltoid. Nothing inappropriate, unless breaking into her room and climbing in bed with her naked and him fully dressed, holding her and taking a nap with her was inappropriate. And somehow, he’d pulled her back into her body by doing so.

  First aid by hugging. That’s what he’d done.

  She wanted to feel alive, healthy, cherished; and Jake made her feel all those things.

  Sophie turned in his arms and breathed in the lemony fresh scent at the apex of his collarbones. She kissed the smooth, tender spot under his freshly shaved chin, the granite knob of his jawbone. She reached up with a hand and tilted his face down so that their mouths could meet.

  They spoke, for a long slow time, without words, though getting his clothing off was a bit of a bother.

  Afterward, Sophie waited for Jake to make a joke. To tease her, even to nag her to get out of bed, take a shower, eat something—after all, it must be at least ten a.m. on a workday. But he said nothing, just lying beside her, stroking whatever skin he could reach, which was most of it.

  His silver-blue eyes in the dim light were the exact color of the mourning doves that were so common in Hawaii. She couldn’t look at them for long, and finally got up to shower. Jake went to his room to do the same.

  She dressed and opened the curtains. Both dogs were on the other side of the connecting door, scratching to join her, and Jake opened the door. Ginger launched herself onto the bed and licked Sophie’s face. “Bad dog! Get down!” Sophie scolded. Ginger hopped down and began wrestling with Tank. The two crashed into the TV stand, making the appliance rock perilously.

  “You’d think they hadn’t been out, but I’ve taken them for a run already,” Jake said. “I have a new lead for us to follow up on to
day. I wonder if you’re up for a drive. This contact is somewhere in Hilo, a witness that emailed the parents that she saw Julie after she disappeared from Volcanoes Park.”

  Sophie needed to get to the secure online police station internet to use DAVID to search for her mother and information about the secret Yām Khûmkạn organization; but it would be a good idea to get out and shake off the cobwebs of her depressive episode before she went back into that triggering swamp.

  “I need some food first.” Sophie’s stomach growled loudly.

  Jake smiled. “I tried to get you to eat pizza yesterday but you wouldn’t answer the door. The dogs got the rest of it when I was out of the room. I’ll take you to breakfast.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jake pulled the Jeep out of the breakfast restaurant’s parking lot and out onto the busy thoroughfare leading through Hilo. Sophie had eaten a good breakfast. Her color and energy were better.

  Jake felt victorious. His chest gave an almost painful twinge every time he thought of why they were late getting on the road. Happiness this extreme was hard to take.

  He had made her feel better. He had brought her out of that coldness. She had turned to him, initiated making love. He couldn’t think about it much or his skin would burst with exhilaration.

  Was this what being in love was like? He’d thought he’d experienced love before, but he’d never felt anything like this.

  Jake stole a glance at Sophie, and she met his eyes. A little smile played around her mouth. “What?”

  Anything he said would only reveal what a sap he was, and it might even scare her off. “Nothing.”

  “What is going on between you and Antigua?”

  Jake frowned. “I told you. We broke it off.”

  “Why?”

  “She wanted more. I didn’t. The usual.”

  “The usual. Aha.” Sophie rubbed her cheekbone where the scar was. “Then you’re okay with our arrangement being more of that ‘usual’?”

  Just like that, she crushed him.

  Jake opened and closed his hands on the steering wheel and lightened his voice with an effort. “Sure. Partners with benefits. Thought we were clear on that already.”

  “Good. Just making sure there are no misunderstandings.” Sophie’s hand dropped to his thigh. She massaged the thick muscle there. “Because I have every intention of making use of those benefits. Often, in fact.”

  His body was not averse to this idea even if his emotions were out of control. Jake forced a laugh, removed her hand. “You’re distracting me. I don’t even know where we’re going. I have to pull over and program the GPS.”

  Jake navigated to the side of the road and fumbled with his phone.

  There was a buzzing in his ears. The exhilaration of a moment ago felt like a heart attack as pain shortened his breath and stabbed his chest. Was this how Antigua had felt when she broke up with him? If so, holy shit, ow!

  Tank thrust his head forward from the back seat and nudged Jake’s elbow, as if sensing his distress.

  Regroup, retrench, re-strategize. Never give up. You can win her, Jake, but not head on. You have to accept where she put you; she doesn’t feel safe having feelings for anyone right now. You understand that. It has to be okay. You’re strong enough to do this. Don’t lose sight of the goal.

  Sophie was his mission. He knew how to do missions.

  “Tell me about this witness.” Her voice was cool and businesslike, and that helped.

  Jake cleared his throat. “Don’t know much. Bix gave me the name, address, and phone of a female contact, Shirley Mandig, who claims to have seen our victim after she disappeared from the park.”

  “So you told Bix that this was likely before they abandoned Julie in the forest area?”

  “I did. Bix seems to think it was after, by the timing the witness described—it was dark, the night of the day they took her. The witness was unclear on when that was, exactly.”

  “I wonder how she recognized Julie Weathersby.”

  “Bix confirmed that the Weathersbys have hired a firm that specializes in PR campaigns for missing people. They’ve plastered the area with posters of Julie. They’ve got a lot of social media going.” Jake shook his head. “What a thing to find a market niche for.”

  Sophie shrugged. “As long as it helps. All of these kinds of things take time, resources, and manpower. I’m glad they don’t expect us to do all that, too.”

  They wended through downtown Hilo towards the suburbs at the back. The houses became small ranch style dwellings, many of them with fenced yards and opulent displays of orchids, ferns, and other tropical growth. The warm humidity of Hilo lent itself to supersized plants and shades of green everywhere.

  Shirley Mandig’s home was typical of the area. Set off of a small, residential side road, the dwelling was a plantation style cube with a lanai in the front, thick with potted orchids. They parked in the driveway, settled the dogs with cracked windows and water, and walked up three wooden stairs to the front porch. A small yappy dog announced their arrival from inside the house.

  Jake knocked, and both he and Sophie held up their Security Solutions IDs for the woman to see when she arrived to look at them through a screen door. “We’re here to talk to you about your sighting of Julie Weathersby.”

  The middle-aged Filipina woman wore a purple velour sweat suit, a ton of gold jewelry, and house slippers. Her quizzical look cleared up, and she opened the door. “Please, come in.”

  The dog, a fuzzy, indeterminate breed, sniffed around their legs as Jake followed the woman’s square-hipped figure into the house. She gestured to a dining room table, and they took vinyl-covered chairs and sat. A sharp tang of vinegar flavored the air. Sophie pointed to a cutting board, covered with green mangoes in various stages of disembowelment. “Are you making pickled mango?”

  Mandig nodded. “I am. Every year the tree in back drops more mango than I can give away, so I harvest early. I always leave some of them to mature, but pickled mango makes a good Christmas gift. Let me get you some tea.”

  The two women chatted about the making of strange foods as Jake assessed the modest kitchen, not upgraded since it was built in the 1970s, if the avocado-colored appliances and fake brick linoleum were anything to go by. Mandig brought Jake a cup of hot tea. He smiled and sipped it, to be polite.

  Surprisingly fragrant and sweet, the tea was delicious. Jake slurped and finished it, and finally, during a lull in the conversation, he addressed Mandig where she stood at the cutting board, peeling green mangoes.

  “Tell us about seeing Julie Weathersby.”

  “Oh, so unexpected. I never know what to think.” The woman’s voice had a lilt of pidgin. “I work at Volcanoes Park gift shop. I was heading home from work, and I saw this woman staggering down the road. She waving her arms. She was wearing only bra and panty. I thought she was drunk. I admit, I was small-kine judgmental.” The knife she was using to cut the mangoes whacked into the cutting board. “I wish I had stopped, tried to help her. Seeing her like that, I just thought she . . . I don’t know what I thought.”

  “Was there anyone chasing her, or with her?” Sophie asked sharply.

  “No. She was alone. She maybe was trying to get help. I don’t know.” Mandig’s voice had gone low.

  “We know Julie was robbed and abandoned on the side of a road. We found her possessions and clothes and they are at the Hilo Police Station. This is the first confirmation we’ve had that she’s alive,” Jake said, keeping his tone warm and complimentary. “Very important news. Thank you for coming forward. Can you identify the area where you saw her?”

  “I did notice it because it was so funny-kine to see someone out in that area, no clothes, li’dat. She was walking toward Hilo on the side of the road. I remember thinking that if I had to call anyone for her I should know where she was. So I noticed the mile marker, but I never had no bars, so I never called the cops.” She named the same road the Weathersby girl had been abandoned on.

/>   Jake and Sophie exchanged a quick look and Jake took down the mile marker number and the street name. He thanked Mandig, and they stood up and headed for the door. Mandig held up a jar of mango. “You like?”

  “Thanks.” Jake took the jar. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  Sophie was right behind him. She touched Mandig’s arm. “I hope you will stop and do the right thing in the future if you see an almost naked woman waving for help. She was probably trying to escape her attackers and running for her life.”

  Mandig ducked her head and crossed herself in a very Catholic gesture. “I pray that girl is safe and that God forgives me for driving past her.”

  “Well, at least you called to report it. That’s something.” Sophie pushed out ahead of Jake, and let the screen door bang behind her. The woman’s soft face crumpled and her chin wobbled.

  That was his girl Sophie. Never one to varnish the truth or coddle anyone’s feelings. Jake smiled at Mandig. “Thanks for the mango. I’m sure it’s delicious.” He restrained himself from saying anything further. Nothing would help. “And thank you for contacting us.” He turned and followed Sophie out to the Jeep.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sophie’s phone alerted her to an incoming text as she reached the vehicle parked in Mandig’s driveway. She took the phone out of her pocket and checked it as she waited for Jake to unlock the Jeep.

  The text was blunt and to the point. “This is Connor. I am hard at work on the Witness Protection leak. I expect to know more by next week. If you want to call me for information to share with the detectives, you can reach me at this number.”

  Sophie’s stomach dropped.