I’d made a life-changing decision when I talked with Whitney at the airport, and it nudged my heart with a sad ache. I slid my hands into the side pockets of the frayed lounge pants, and opened to the soft, safe images from Mitch’s home in North Carolina.
And those were the key words: Mitch’s home. Not mine.
He breezed through the bedroom door right on cue. Without knocking. Yeah, I knew that C the D was watching every move both of us made, still… “Annie checked for bugs in the house, and I’m not much on sharing this room with anyone, but if we have to share, you could at least knock.”
Red stained his cheeks. Then they blanched to white. “We’re still married, Sunshine.”
Instead of the thrill that used to zip along my nerves when Mitch called me Sunshine, now it just hollowed my stomach out, leaving a whole lot of empty behind. “Yes, we are. I don’t want to change that. Not yet, but I have decided to relocate here. I’m meeting with a real estate agent tomorrow to look at houses.”
There. I’d said it.
Mitch dropped into one of the club chairs and rubbed his face. Tired shadowed his eyes, and two days of stubble darkened his cheeks. He was usually a clean-shaven kind of guy. “I want us to try and get past this. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but will you hold off on making any final decisions until you’re safe, and have had time to think everything through?”
I sat on the bed, sinking into the security of the down comforter. “I’m not planning to make any rash decisions. Marriage is sacred to me, and I don’t want to ours to end unless I’m sure it’s the only solution. But, Mitch, it won’t ever be the same between us. I’m not going back to North Carolina.”
His forehead creased into deep lines. “Ever? What about your things?”
Things? The man had fallen so far into his covert work that he’d missed a few facts. “I don’t have any things in your house except my clothes, jewelry, and bathroom stuff. I’ll phone Jayne tomorrow and ask her to pack everything up and ship it here.”
He gave me a wide-eyed stare, wire rims slipping down his nose. “What are you going to tell her? She’d shoot me if anything happened to you.”
I didn’t try to stop my smile. “Yep. She would. And she’d shoot me if anything happens to you. I’m going to tell her we’re relocating here. Until we decide what’s going to happen between us, there’s no reason to upset the rest of your family.”
Mitch stood, blowing out a relieved exhalation. “Okay. Thanks for that. You know she and Parker have been looking for a house in the country since they found out they’re expecting twins? I’ll tell ’em they can move in. Won’t even have to worry about furnishing the place.”
Panic clawed at my throat. “Just because I’m telling Jayne that we’re relocating, doesn’t mean we’re going to live together. You’ll still need your own place, Mitch. I want time alone, to think, and to work with my grandfather and hone my Huna skills. And I want to spend more time with Annie, Maddie, and Sean. I’ve missed them since they moved. More than I realized until now.”
He paced. “Okay. You’ll be fine with them looking out for—”
“Stop right there.” I jumped up, stepping in front of him. “That attitude is our biggest issue. I. Don’t. Need. Protection. What I need is to get my life back on track, embrace my gifts, and hang out with Whitney. I’m done being treated like a crystal ornament.”
“Huh?” Mitch’s eyebrows tented. “What does Detective Boulay have to do with any of this?”
“She’s gifted. She’s a strong woman. And she’s going to teach me how to fight with knives.” Oh, yeah. I hadn’t thought it through, but that was exactly where I wanted to be. “I’m going to step into my power, learn to use it wisely, and damn anyone who gets in my way.”
Mitch nodded and gave me a creaky, sad smile. “You’ve already done those things, Sunshine. Your strength is one of the things I love most about you.”
A pissed-off rumble started somewhere near the base of my skull. “Well, you sure as all hell don’t act like it. Over-protective. Does that resonate with any of those masculine brain cells crowding your head?”
Mitch cradled me in a gentle hug. I didn’t fight him, because, damn, it was a comfortable habit. And as pissed off as I was, I still loved him. At least I remembered to keep my fingertips curled in. Being flooded with his emotions would probably undo both of us.
He rubbed his chin on top of my head. “I didn’t go cave-man because I thought you were weak, Everly. I did it because it’s my fault you’re in danger. My mistakes are the reason you’re being exposed to, ah, Chad the Demon.”
He tipped my chin up. “Did I get his name right?”
I nodded, stepping away from him. I couldn’t afford to go soft and mushy. “There has to be trust for love to work, Mitch.” I pointed back and forth between us. “I’ve lost that, and I don’t know if I—we—can get it back.”
He tilted his head back, gazing at the ceiling, hands jammed in his back pockets. And then he leveled his gaze on me and held it steady. “Okay. I get that. Can we agree to take this one day at a time?”
“Yeah. But you have to pick a different room to sleep in. It hurts, Mitch. Loving you…hurts.”
He knuckle-rubbed his chest. “I know. Me too. Tomorrow, ah, I’ll have to join you on the real estate trip. Burr will be tracking me. Sorry. I don’t want to make this any harder for you, but—”
“You plan to protect me no matter what?” I finished Mitch’s sentence with a genuine smile, then frowned before I started spouting off questions. “Okay. I get that C the D, and whoever else you’re working for, are watching us, and that your rental truck and new phone are already under surveillance, but how did they do that so fast?”
A sad chuckle rumbled in his throat. “When a gaggle of Pierce think-alikes gets together, almost anything can happen. We should send text messages all day tomorrow, and tonight I’d appreciate it if you’d take a short drive with me. Maybe get a shake or something, and have a normal conversation. It’ll protect your cover.”
I gulped in a mouthful of air. “I can do that.”
Surviving it? Now that was a different question.
“What I don’t get, Sunshine, is why practice knife work with Whitney Boulay? Isn’t the .9mm enough?”
I fumbled with the tie on my lounge pants. “I watched a couple videos about Asian gangs. They like knives. There’s no scarcity of guns in their arsenals, that’s for sure, but I want to be prepared. I’m almost positive there’s a link between Xifeng and the Hawaiian gangs.”
“Doubt it.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Not the native Hawaiians. They have a different agenda.”
Mitch was partly right, but… “They don’t like haoles invading their land. I understand that, and wish I could change it. Hawaii is a metropolis now, and whatever I do, personally, isn’t going to fix their economic and cultural issues. What happens with my mother’s formula? That I can do something about.”
Annie rapped on the bedroom door. “Can I come in, El?”
So much for my alone time. I jogged to the door and threw it open. “Hey. What do you need?”
“Not a thing.” She held out a leather sheath. “This is my lightweight Kershaw blade. It’s a good backup knife, and I wanted to contribute to your lesson tomorrow.”
I took it from her, forgetting that I’d dropped my shields while I worked on myself in the shower. My fingers tightened on the knife sheath, and my vision tunneled, zeroing in on Annie. “You worked with Chad the Demon.”
TWENTY-THREE
The bedroom shrank around us. Annie stared at me, her eyes wide and blank. “What?”
“Mitch’s handler. You worked with him.” I nodded at the knife. “Looks like you…threatened him with this.”
Mitch touched my shoulder. “That can’t be. Different agencies, and—”
“Describe him.” Annie bit both words out with staccato precision.
I gave her my best rendition of Chad the Demon, partly from the ima
ge I’d just picked up, and partly from our face-to-face meeting at the airport.
Annie whirled on Mitch, her face twisted in a horrified grimace. “Do you know who you’re working for? Do you have any idea?”
He scowled. “As much as anyone ever does with black op groups. They approached me on one of my regular military assignments. Made it sound like a simple long-term surveillance gig with protection of Everly their primary concern.”
She closed her eyes, covering the flash of fire that had turned her green irises to a pale gold. Two labored breaths later, she glared at Mitch. “They aren’t vetted. They’re so far buried in the bowels of black ops that I…” She broke off, jogged to the bedroom door, and yelled, “Tynan Pierce.”
First time I’d ever heard her use his full name, and the tsunami of all shudders racked my body. I tumbled into one of the club chairs and curled my legs under me. No point in standing when there was the distinct possibility a room full of macho types would witness my knees giving out, followed by a wimpy butt-hitting-bamboo-floor moment.
Pierce stuck his head around the doorframe, his face whiter than my favorite linen sheets. It was getting to be a habit, and the man had never turned paled before…all this. Not for anything. Scary.
“Mitch’s handler was on my kill roster.” Annie’s words were stark, cutting into the fragrant island breeze drifting through my open slider. The contrast was wrong. Unnerving.
But she kept talking. “He’s the traitor who funneled information to the Wah Ching.”
That had me bouncing to the edge of the chair, woozy knees aside. “Is that why you recognized Xifeng’s name, Mitch?” Anger pulsed in my throat.
He looked at me, eyes glazed. “No, that can’t be. I recognized the name because a couple weeks ago Burr approached me about a new assignment. I turned it down. Gave him personal reasons as an excuse, except the assignment didn’t sound right so I started researching it.”
Pierce’s jaw twitched. “His name isn’t Burr. And?”
“And he wanted me to photograph members of the Wah Ching.”
Adam knocked Pierce aside as he came barreling through my bedroom door. “What about the Wah Ching?”
Annie blinked at Adam. “Where’s Maddie? You had her.”
“Playpen with Merlin. She’s fine. The Wah Ching are not. Tamer than they once were, but only on the surface. Who’s going to tell me what this is about?”
I pointed at Mitch with a new edge of authority. “He is. Start to finish with no short cuts. I need to know exactly what I’m walking into tomorrow night.”
Adam glared at me “You aren’t going anywhere near the Wah Ching.”
I settled back in my chair. When Adam wore the expression of a tiger with a thorn in its paw, it was best not to argue. He’d worked a special detail on gang warfare when he was with the LAPD, and had left for reasons that were never explained to me. The gist of it had something to do with his cover wearing thin, and a potential case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I had never asked for details, nor had I ever touched him with intent to trespass into that particular niche of his life. Annie had told me she’d moved to North Carolina when she pseudo-retired from spy work because Adam was there. She’d said it was to be near family, but I always figured it was really to keep an eye on him.
Mitch went over the basics he’d already covered with me, and then started adding stuff. “I worked backward from the California-based gang families. They’re mostly independent, but there are some tenuous ties with mainland China. That’s what led me to Xifeng. The gangs on the mainland aren’t into drive-by shootings or prison feuds, anything that would call attention to them. Everything is quiet over there. Underground. They specialize in extortion, kidnapping, and smuggling.”
Adam nodded. “Historically, the extortion carried into the LA gangs, only it’s a different playing field. The shakedowns were a major source of the US Wah Ching income. They’d extort money from Chinese merchants, and if they weren’t paid, they’d blow up the business. It escalated to killing the owners.”
“Wouldn’t that make them outcast in Chinese culture?” Mitch asked, shifting to sit on the bed.
“It would. The mainland tongs or triads aren’t territorial, though. In the US they are, and there isn’t the same stigma to being outcast. It’s a big deal to mark and defend their territory here, and that makes them more dangerous to bystanders.” He lifted his shirt, exposing a scar that ran from his upper chest down to his belly. “I have some experience with this.”
I smothered my gasp. “Damn, Adam. No wonder Annie always hates when you’re out of touch.”
Annie’s arms were tightly crossed. “He almost died. Would have, if the ambulance crew hadn’t been experienced pros and already on alert.”
Adam dropped his arm across her shoulders. “One thing that’s the same. They’re truly a family, and there’s an unparalleled sense of community. If anyone hurts a member, they’ll be hunted down until the act has been avenged. They are vicious and well-established.”
“They favor knives?” I asked, tapping the sheath resting on my lap.
Pierce crossed the room, swiping the knife off my lap. “Wah Ching means ethnically superior. They believe it. Have no problem dying for it.”
I made a gimme motion, and he handed the knife back to me.
“One morning of knife practice won’t prepare you to fight them, Belisama.”
“I’m a good shot.” It was pure bravado. No way did I plan to fight these people, but if protecting Millie, Harlan, and my grandfather backed me into a corner, well...
Adam shuddered. “If you’re not careful you’re gonna initiate a mad dog and end up with a dome. Or they could jump you in. Then what?”
A shiver slicked down my back. “You’ve scared me. Now explain what you said.”
Pierce thumped the knife in my hand with his index finger, and then answered for Adam. “You’re gonna stare at the wrong person too long and get shot in the head, or get beaten to a pulp and wake up the newest member of the Wah Ching.”
Adam wiped at the sweat beading his forehead. “I think it’s time to call in the HPD on this, Pierce. Everly’s caught in the middle of a potentially volatile standoff between Xifeng’s connections and the rogue black ops group. We could have handled the situation if it was limited to Mitch’s handler, but the crews are vicious psychopaths. Most of them grew up with violence at home and were on the street before their tenth birthday. They share blood oaths, and, like Pierce said, dying for the family is accepted. And expected.”
Pierce nodded. “Better plan is to put Everly in solitary.”
I jumped up. “That is not going to happen. First off, Mitch and I have to go make happy conversation for the guys listening in on his phone and truck. Next up, we have a command performance dinner tomorrow night, and if we don’t make our scheduled appearance, the people watching me will fade into oblivion, screwing our chance to end this.”
Annie closed the distance between us, and took my hand. “She’s right. I know what it’s like to have that poison running through your body. We can’t take a chance that Xifeng will ever get her hands on it. You know, both of you—” She pointed at Adam and Pierce—“that if she gets Loyria Gray’s formula, she’ll sell it. Or her father will steal it from her.”
I squeezed Annie’s hand. Sisters no matter what. I sucked in a breath, and started talking. “Listen up, people. It would be great to have the entire HPD behind me, but the more people who are involved, the more likely someone will make a mistake. Or be spotted. Or talk. I won’t go into that restaurant alone tomorrow, because that would be stupid. Mitch will be sitting next to me. I want Pierce and Whitney to be at table nearby. Like within breathing distance. If I so much as hiccup, I want them to hear it. And Annie can monitor the situation from here. That’s how it’s going down.”
Adam opened his mouth.
I held up my palm. “Don’t even try to tell me your sister doesn’t have the capability of wiring me up and li
stening to every word I say, as well as attaching some kind of video equipment to my handbag. She can call in the HPD if we need them. This is now my op, and we’ll do it my way.”
Three mouths dropped open. Annie grinned at me. “You got it, sister.”
“And now if you could all get busy making plans for tomorrow, Mitch and I can rehearse our lines for tonight’s performance.”
The guys filed out, but Annie caught my wrist. “See me before you leave. I want to attach a bug to your phone.”
A knot of fear clenched in my stomach. “We’re only going to McDonalds for a shake.”
She shook her head. “Now that I know who’s tracking Mitch, that isn’t good enough. Adam or Pierce will stay invisible, but within shouting distance. Watch your back.”
TWENTY-FOUR
The chocolate shakes at McDonalds were tasty and the evening uneventful—other than facing my husband, acting as though our married life was flowing along with happy-ever-after precision, and sharing ideas about what I wanted in our Hawaiian home.
The house was quiet when we returned. I eyed Mitch, and held up my cell. “Annie’s been listening to the evening’s entertainment, so probably didn’t need to meet us at the door for a recap.”
Mitch nodded, quiet. “I’m sorry, Everly. Even though all this started with Loyria Gray, I know I’ve added to the problem, made it more complicated.”
I couldn’t tell him it was all right, because it wasn’t. “You’re going to help me fix it, and that’s the best any of us can do at this point. Let’s get some rest, and tackle strategy tomorrow.”
“Right,” Mitch said, getting a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. “I expected Pierce and Adam to be waiting for us. Want some water?”
I ambled to the refrigerator. “No, thanks. I’ll grab a bottle from here. I don’t want to take a chance on spilling an open glass all over Annie’s bamboo floor.” I grabbed one of the smaller water bottles and turned to face Mitch. “I’ve been a restless sleeper since I’ve been here. You know, it’s really strange the guys aren’t here, hunkered down, pencils flying over notebooks while they work on backup plans for tomorrow. I wonder if…surely they didn’t go off to do something tonight.”
Touch of Betrayal, A Page 17