Paradise Crime Thrillers Books 7-9: Paradise Crime Thrillers Box Sets, #3

A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets.

~Gloria Stuart 

Chapter One

Sometimes justice wasn't fair.

Security specialist Sophie Ang stared with dislike at the twitchy blonde woman on the bed in the jail's infirmary. Holly Rayme’s gaunt face was blotchy with the green and yellow of fading bruising.

I am in hell. Rayme picked at a scab on the back of her hand as she addressed Sophie, Detective Kamani Freitan, and Hazel Matsue, a U.S. Marshal brought in to interview her for inclusion in the national Witness Protection Program. You have to get me out of here.

Things could actually be a lot worse. Freitan said. The tall, voluptuous mixed Hawaiian woman exuded volatility. Ancient Hawaiian chieftesses had accompanied their men into battle, and in another age, Freitan would have been perfectly in character carrying a club ringed with sharks’ teeth instead of the police issue Glock she currently wore. You've been hiding out in a soft bed in the infirmary. Got your own TV, even.

I had to go through detox this week in this supposed comfy bed with my own TV. You think that wasn't hell?

You drug, you lose. And it would have been a lot worse out in gen pop. You’ve had protection outside your door 24/7. But if that protection is going to continue, we need to know we have your full cooperation.

Rayme’s watery blue eyes blinked. You don’t give a shit about me. I get that, loud and clear.

You made your living robbing and extorting people. And now you’re going to get out of jail, Freitan said. I don’t have to like that. Or you.

We know you've been through a hard time, Holly. Sophie stepped forward to try to defuse the tension as Matsue looked on, arms folded. But you had medical support, and you’re through the worst of detox. You’re fortunate. Ms. Matsue here is willing to take you into protective custody, provide you with a new identity, and relocate you until you can testify.

Yes. I'm here to interview you, do your intake, and explain the program. Matsue was a slender woman with a triangular face. Though she wore black pants, a white shirt and a shiny gold Marshal’s badge, Matsue had an innate style that set her apart, conveyed by deep red lipstick and an angular, asymmetrical bobbed haircut. She would have looked completely at home in Paris or Madrid rather than in the dingy jail infirmary with its bloom of ceiling mold and lingering smell of Lysol. Do you understand why you've been referred to the Witness Protection Program, Ms. Rayme? And that you must comply with our procedures and directives? The U.S. Marshals Service has a one hundred percent success rate in protecting its clients if they follow WITSEC directions and protocols.

All this ‘special treatment’ is because I’ll be testifying against the Changs and helping you bring down a crime family. But I don't see that I have much choice, Rayme grumbled. I know I’m lucky to be alive. My boyfriend Jimmy isn’t.

Jim Webb and Holly Rayme had been involved in an investigation Sophie had just completed that had resulted in the apprehension of the Chang family’s sadistic enforcer, Akane Chang. Holly’s boyfriend had not survived an assassination attempt in the general population of the jail once the couple’s importance as witnesses became evident, and Holly had barely survived her own attack.

Can I turn this prisoner over to your custody? Freitan asked Matsue. I’ve got work to do.

I have some paperwork for Ms. Rayme to fill out and forms for you to sign. Matsue handed paperwork on a clipboard to Rayme. Once it’s done, we can process her out of here. Matsue turned to address Sophie. You’ve been a part of this team since I got here, but I’m unclear on your role, Ms. Ang.

I work for a private firm, Security Solutions. Sophie’s ongoing attachment to the case had been a new development. She and her partner Jake Dunn had wrapped up their contract to find a missing girl, and she’d tried to resume the vacation and hiking trip for which she’d come to the Big Island. Only days later, she’d been contacted by her employer to assist in security and support for Holly Rayme. The families of Akane Chang’s victims contracted with Security Solutions to pay for my services to support regular law enforcement.

The U.S. Marshals Service does not work with private entities, Matsue said frostily.

You want to work with this chick, Freitan said. She’s former FBI and a computer wizardess. Can’t hurt to have her in your back pocket.

And she’s a badass bitch with a mean left hook, Rayme volunteered. I happen to know. She and her partner were the ones to find out our part in the hustle we did with Akane Chang. And the only reason I’m saying anything nice is because her partner adopted our dog, and she can help keep me alive.

Endorsement by these two unlikely allies almost made Sophie smile. I am on retainer, and available to help and support you, she told Matsue. If you choose not to work with me, I will help from the sidelines. We should at least talk so I can explain how my skill set might be of use to you. Sophie held Matsue’s skeptical gaze.

Well, if that’s all, I’ve got perps to bust and the day’s a-wasting, Freitan said. See you ladies at the trial. She turned and headed for the door.

As Freitan’s hand touched the knob, an alarm ululated outside. The dome light out in the hallway began spinning, throwing red beams across Freitan. The muffled crack of a gunshot sounded out in the hall.

Shit! Freitan drew her weapon and flattened herself against the doorjamb, reaching over to turn the heavy silver bolt that locked the door. We need to stay in here and guard the prisoner.

Lower the blind over the window, Detective! Matsue barked. Ms. Rayme, get down off the bed and behind some cover!

Sophie, as a civilian, had surrendered her Glock upon entering the jail. She felt its loss keenly as she helped Rayme, groaning and exclaiming, down off the bed. I’ve had experience with an attack in a room like this. This equipment makes good cover, Sophie told Rayme as she maneuvered the heavy metal hospital bed sideways into a horizontal position facing the window. Stay back here with me. We’ll be fine.

Freitan pulled the plastic retractable blind down over the bulletproof observation window as Matsue joined her. Let’s each cover a point of entry.

The two law enforcement agents bracketed the covered window and locked door, weapons drawn. Freitan barked into her radio, asking for information, but no one replied.

Steps thundered outside in the hallway. More shots rang out. Yelling added to the cacophony of the electronic alarm. Sophie fumbled her phone out of her pocket. She had upgraded recently to a satellite phone, but when she thumbed it on, No Service showed in the window. Foul stench of a week-old corpse.

What’s that you’re saying? Rayme whispered. Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were wide in her bruised face. I’m scared too.

I curse in Thai sometimes, my native tongue, Sophie said. She held up her phone. Either of you getting a signal over there?

Nope, Freitan said. But reception’s never good in this building.

I can usually get a few bars. This is weird, Matsue said. I’m guessing someone’s got a jammer.

Sophie’s heart rate was up, but she wasn’t unduly alarmed. Three highly trained professionals, two of them armed, were barricaded in with Holly Rayme, and this disturbance was likely not even related to their prisoner. She smiled at Rayme. Try to stay calm. We’ve got you covered.

More gunshots and deafening footsteps in the hallway were not reassuring. Neither was the shout, "Rayme’s in the infirmary somewhere. Just start trying doors!"

The knob rattled. The door shook under pounding with some metal object. The impacts sent medical supplies piled on the shelves crashing to the floor.

Rayme let out a squeal of fear after one particularly loud smash, moving to clutch Sophie. Sophie wrapped her arms around the trembling woman. She covered Rayme’s mouth with a hand. Don’t let them hear you, she whispered in Rayme’s ear.

A flash of memory burst across Sophie’s brain.

Sophie was the one being held in someone’s arms. A hand covered her mouth. A desperate voice whispered, Don’t let them hear you. Suppressed memory came flooding back. Sophie’s arms tightened around Rayme.

The woman holding Sophie had been her beloved nanny, Armita.

Armita had fought like a tigress when kidnappers broke into seven-year-old Sophie’s room, screaming and beating at the men with a broom. Sophie’s last sight of Armita had been of her nanny, head bleeding, sprawled on the ground unconscious as masked men in black carried Sophie away.

She had never seen Armita again.

After the ransom was paid and Sophie was returned, her mother told her that Armita had quit because she didn’t want to work at a home where she’d be in danger. Armita had been hurt because of Sophie; and she’d left because of Sophie.

Self-blame had been a heart-splinter of Sophie’s ever since. As Sophie held Holly Rayme’s trembling, sweating body in her arms, she let that splinter go. Not my fault. I was just a child.

Another missing piece from her past to ask her mysterious mother, Pim Wat, about…

The heavy crash of something metal hitting the covered viewing window made Sophie hunch instinctively over Rayme, protecting the woman with her body, as intruders bashed at the safety glass, bowing it in and shattering it.

Sophie peeked over their crude barrier. Two lean, dark men in prison orange filled the window’s opening, shoving aside the dangling blind with their hands, pushing the sheet of glass, held together by wire, out of the way.

And then, Freitan and Matsue were up and firing. Sophie and Rayme curled close, covering their ears as they hid behind the bed.

The burning, tangy scent of weapons discharge.

Ears ringing, assaulted by gunfire in a small, enclosed space.

Curses and screams.

A long moment passed as silence fell, broken by Rayme’s sobbing.

Sophie lifted her head to peer out from cover. Matsue and Freitan stood in identical shooting stances, aiming their weapons at the empty, crude opening in the window.

More running, yelling, and gunfire out in the hall, this time passing by. No further incursions.

Suspects are down. Freitan clicked the deadbolt open. I’m going to see what’s happening. She was out the door before Matsue could object.

The Marshal turned wide, tilted brown eyes upon Sophie. You two okay?

Yes. Sophie tried her phone again. The jammer is off. I’ve got a signal.

She dialed 911 and was told that backup was on its way and the riot was almost under control.

Rayme wriggled out of Sophie’s arms and adjusted her gaping hospital gown. Thanks. Almost seemed like you cared for a moment there.

I always do the right thing no matter how I feel about someone personally, Sophie said. Rayme winced, then crawled back up onto the bed and pulled the sheet up over her head.

Matsue came to stand over Sophie. If what you just said is true, then we will get along and work together just fine. She turned to Holly Rayme, still hidden under the sheet. Your application to WITSEC is hereby approved.

Chapter Two

Alika Wolcott had arrived in Hilo yesterday, flying into the airport on his Bell Jet Ranger. On island for business, he was shopping for exotic hardwoods to put some finishing touches on his new, eco-friendly Kaua`i development.

He had been trying Sophie’s phone for the last hour. She’d texted him a new number the previous week, saying only that the other phone had been broken. But as usual, he suspected there was more to it than that.

He couldn’t wait to see her. When the opportunity to look for finish trim for some cabinetry materials presented itself, he took the excuse to fly to the Big Island.

Sitting in the helicopter, he monitored the police band on his radio. The band was alive with a major emergency involving the jail. Alika had been studying the law enforcement codes used in communication, interested in anything that had to do with something Sophie might be involved in.

He locked up the helicopter and walked across the tarmac to the airport area, carrying his overnight duffel, and caught a shuttle to a nearby car rental agency. He secured a work truck for three days, hopefully enough time to find the wood he needed—and to see Sophie at least once.

Seated in the truck, Alika tried her number again, almost a reflex; but this time, she picked up.

Alika! Sophie’s husky voice with that accent gave him chicken skin. He could hear noise in the background: raised voices, clattering. I’m at the jail. There’s a disturbance. This isn’t a good time.

His heart rate spiked. Are you okay? Are you safe?

Yes. I believe so. Though the exact extent of the riot and its aftermath are still being determined and contained.

Holy shit! Well, I just called because I wanted to let you know that I’m on the island and would like to see you while I’m here.

There was a short pause. He could tell how distracted Sophie was by her lack of response and the brisk, That’s fine. I’ll call you later. Goodbye, with which she ended the call.

Alika stared down at his phone. Never a good idea to get his expectations up when it came to Sophie. She’d made him no promises. He had made her none either. Too bad for him that the mere sound of her voice turned his innards to mush.

He had come here for work, and he had work to do. Enough with the navel-gazing.

Alika fired up the truck and programmed the address of the exotic hardwoods sawmill he had come to visit into the GPS. He’d call her tonight and take a temperature check on dinner.

Chapter Three

Byron Chang laced his fingers together over his belly and leaned back in his leather chair. He narrowed his eyes at his cousin Terence, seated across from him in the high-ceilinged office of the downtown Hilo warehouse building where Chang Incorporated conducted a legit import/export business. I’m not a patient man, cuz. We need to get my bruddah out dat jail.

I’m working on it. Terence handled legal and computer-related business for the family. But you need to acknowledge that Akane’s habits have drawn too much attention.

Terence was dressed, as usual, in hipster jeans with some kind of fancy basketball shoes and a tight black T-shirt. He looked like something out of a freakin’ college catalog, and he talked like it too. Just telling you like it is, Byron. Akane knows that we would cover him for his work for the family, but this extracurricular shit he was into…well, he’s on his own for that.

Byron’s mouth tightened. His brother Akane did a good job as the Chang enforcer, but doing the family’s dirty work had led to an unhealthy habit of knife-stalking victims, sanctioned and unsanctioned, in the jungle. You don’t speak for the family, Terence. You gave that up when you passed on being Healani’s heir.

As firstborn son of the firstborn son and bearer of the Terence Chang name, the kid in front of Byron had had it all handed to him—and Terence had turned it down, going straight with a legit online tech business and importing company. Byron had stepped up to lead after another fiasco had cleared out competition from a couple of half-cousins.

Righteous anger heated Byron’s chest. Terence acted like his privileged, college-educated shit didn’t stink. Akane is my brother. Doesn’t matter what he’s done; we are not leaving him to rot in jail. That blonde tweaker chick and the lady private investigator are going down. With them gone, there won’t be a case. Everything they have on Akane is hearsay; there’s not a shred of physical evidence connecting him to any of those bodies. He was good at making sure of that.

Terence smoothed one leg of his skinny jeans, cocking an ankle on his knee. It was a wonder the asshole could move; those pants were so tight. Akane is a liability. He’s attracting heat and publicity. And even if you kill off these witnesses, he is going to need to be watched like a rabid dog. You going to be the one holding his leash? Because rabid dogs bite the hand that feeds them. Terence was talking about his own recent problems dealing with an out-of-control half brother and sister who’d gone on a revenge spree against the cop involved with their father’s death.

Byron shrugged. We aren’t leaving Akane in jail. Sends a bad message. Terence was probably right about Akane. Loyalty was important, though, and protecting their best enforcer sent a message to those beneath them about the lengths the Chang family would go to protect their own, and their interests. I’m listening to you, T. But all I hear is flapping lips. Until you’re ready to step up and serve the family by getting your hands dirty, you have no voice here.

I’m guessing Rayme is going into Witness Protection. And that security investigator woman that kicked Akane in the balls seems pretty capable, so you may not be able to do damage control. Terence was still giving attitude. I think we should just leave Akane in the system.

And I said no. Getting rid of the witnesses is not going to be a problem. Byron knew something that Terence didn’t. He smiled confidently. His brother would be free in a week or two.

Terence set his fancy shoes down on the polished floor and stood. I’ve gone straight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the family. You’re making a mistake out of misguided loyalty. Would Akane do the same for you? Terence held Byron’s gaze. My guess is no.

Dust spiraled in a column of light shining through one of the high old windows of the historic and functional warehouse. The building had made it through the great Hilo tsunami of 1946. It had been a Chang warehouse then, and it would still be serving them in another hundred years. Byron would protect it, and the family’s interest, with his dying breath. I don’t bother with regrets or looking back, college boy. Don’t watch the news if your stomach can’t handle what comes next. Get gone and don’t come by my office without an appointment again. Byron depressed an intercom button on his desk and said, Lani, Terence was just leaving. Make sure my cousin gets his allowance envelope on the way out. Wouldn’t want him to feel shorted from his cut of this quarter’s profits.

Yes, sir. Lani and Byron had an appointment in the book later involving her on her knees under his desk, but his assistant knew how to keep up appearances at the front end.

Terence shook his head. I hope you’re making the right call about Akane. He left, closing the door softly behind him.

Byron reached into a locked drawer in his desk and withdrew a new, unregistered cell phone. He pressed down the ON button for a pre-programmed number and put the phone to his ear. Time to make sure those witnesses were out of the way.

Chapter Four

Pim Wat swam slowly in the warm, saltwater infinity pool, looking out through the Plexiglas side that faced the ocean. The pool was built on the top floor of the Kona Royal Hawaiian Hotel, and the transparent side, so many stories up, gave a feeling of swimming through sky and sea.

She enjoyed the exotic view, the silky feel of the water on her skin. After her swim, she had a massage and facial scheduled, then calling in favors to contact the CEO of Security Solutions to locate her daughter.

Sophie Malee was proving problematic. Her female offspring was no longer the biddable, sweet child she’d been.

Pim Wat speeded up her lap, annoyance a prod to her spine. She was growing impatient with Sophie Malee’s stalling about her proposal that she join their clandestine organization. But the girl was right. Why should she be loyal to a mother that had sold her out to that foul gangster Assan Ang? What incentive did Sophie Malee have to cooperate and get involved with the Yām Khûmkạn?

What Pim Wat needed wasn’t incentive, but leverage. Something to force the girl to work for them. Damaging information or consequences that would ensure Sophie Malee not only came on board but didn’t go to the Americans with anything she learned about the organization.

Pim Wat had a file started on Sophie back in her room, all she’d been able to assemble through the Yām Khûmkạn’s spy network—and it wasn’t enough.

Sophie Malee had few friends, a powerful rogue computer program, and a ridiculous dog. Two men, Jake Dunn and Alika Wolcott, were pursuing her. It had been three, but Todd Remarkian had been killed by Assan and his henchmen. Which of the remaining two Sophie preferred was difficult to determine.

Pim Wat had files on Sophie’s suitors also. She had documented their habits, financials, relationships—but she hadn’t yet determined their weaknesses, or how they could be used to gain Sophie’s cooperation.

But she didn’t want to threaten Sophie Malee until she had to. Better to entice a monkey with fruit was an old saying she knew to be true. Once Sophie picked a partner, the Yām Khûmkạn would have the advantage Pim Wat needed.

In the meantime, she’d get that meeting with Security Solutions’ CEO and track down her daughter. The thought gave Pim Wat new energy. Her arms scythed through the water, smooth as a shark swimming.

Chapter Five

Sophie unlocked the door of the tree house she was renting, enjoying the creaking of the branches around her and the shushing of their leaves. The platform deck on the compact, two-story tiny house swayed, a little like the deck of a boat. Twenty feet up in the center of a massive banyan tree, Sophie felt safe and soothed by the constant sounds of nature all around her.

Sophie’s therapist, Dr. Wilson, had put her in touch with the owner, a woman in her sixties who operated a number of quirky, alternative dwellings on her large property just outside of Hilo. The tree house sported a composting toilet, an instant heat propane water heater, and solar operated lights and power. One of the practical features of the tree house was the hand crank dumbwaiter used to bring supplies up and down.

Sophie’s yellow Lab, Ginger, had needed coaxing to deal with the daily rides up and down in an enclosed box, but she had soon gotten used to it. Sophie had already rewarded Ginger with a dog biscuit and loaded the dog inside the dumbwaiter at the bottom of the tree.

Sophie cranked the wheel that raised the crude elevator, thankful for the exertion that warmed up muscles tight from the many hours of sitting and tension that had followed the jail riot, as security protocols were followed and statements taken about the attack.

One thing was obvious: two potential killers, now dead, had targeted Holly Rayme. Rayme would have been a sitting duck, as Sophie’s friend, FBI agent Marcella Scott, would have described her, if Freitan and Matsue hadn’t been on hand to defend her.

Sophie would have to remember to ask Marcella to explain that colloquialism. She’d heard it used many times and it still didn’t make sense.

After letting Ginger out of the dumbwaiter and filling the dog’s food and water bowls, Sophie walked through the small, compact downstairs and went up the tiny metal spiral staircase to the bedroom and bath. She turned on the photovoltaic lantern that provided the tree house’s main source of illumination and shed her clothing into a hamper. She showered in the small tub surround, soaping up briskly.

As Sophie slid soapy hands over the curlicued Thai tattoos decorating her outer thighs, inner arms and navel, she remembered her partner Jake touching the markings, his big hands exquisitely gentle—and powerfully possessive.

They’d crossed a line on that last case, and she couldn’t regret it. Jake had been a thoughtful, passionate lover who warmed her inside and out. He’d been able to draw her out of her depression. All of which was good—but Jake didn’t want to continue as partners with benefits. He wanted exclusivity, and she wasn’t ready for that.

And to complicate things further, Alika had called.

Her MMA coach, friend and sometime boyfriend was on the island, and wanted to see her. Was it wrong that she wanted to see him too? That she had feelings for more than one man?

Why are you in such a hurry to decide? Dr. Wilson’s wise voice spoke in her mind. They’re big boys. Just be honest about how things are for you and let the chips fall where they may.

Thankfully, Sophie had an appointment with the psychologist coming up soon. Dr. Wilson seemed to see nothing wrong with Sophie’s dilemma. You’re figuring out who you are, she’d told Sophie recently. Each of these men appeals to a different side of you; each of them has something to give you and teach you. Don’t rush the process just because it’s uncomfortable.

She couldn’t call Alika back yet. There was another call she needed to make, one she wasn’t looking forward to.

Sophie dressed in the breathable, utilitarian hike/sleepwear she liked for the cooler temperature of the area. She heated some leftover stew, fragrant with lemongrass and seafood, and poured it over a bed of rice. She carried her dinner, along with a steaming cup of aromatic tea, to the little computer workstation she’d constructed in the corner of the minuscule bedroom.

The tree house’s elevation took her up high enough to bypass any interference that might slow down her laptop’s powerful satellite uplink. She was secure and safe here from any but the most sensitive spy signal equipment—and the tree house’s location in an isolated commune was an additional layer of cyber protection.

She moved the slender bamboo chair aside and pulled up a corner of plywood flooring under the carpet. The narrow space hid a small daypack. She removed the square, boxy-shaped external solid-state drive that contained the Ghost software program. She plugged it into the laptop, waited for it to load, and then launched the software, battling that conflicted feeling she got whenever she had contact with the Ghost.

Connor.

Her ex-boyfriend, a man who lived under the alias of Sheldon Hamilton, CEO of Security Solutions.

Computer genius, violinist, athlete, entrepreneur, inventor, billionaire.

Vigilante.

Activating his software automatically sent Connor a message that she was online and available to communicate with. She had been interacting with him as little as possible since their breakup, but now she needed him.

Holly Rayme had been processed out of jail into Hazel Matsue’s custody. The U.S. Marshal had refused to give Sophie or Freitan any further information about their location or security protocols.

Once a client is in our custody, they’re ours. I’ll call you once I have Rayme settled in a safe place, she told Sophie. We can get together and talk about how to team this. But here is where we part ways until the trial, she told Freitan at the jail.

Understood. Keep her alive, Freitan said.

Matsue had left, towing a reluctant Rayme toward an unmarked beige Toyota 4Runner. A shadowy figure behind tinted glass showed Sophie that Matsue had further backup, and she was glad of it.

Weeks before on a hike in Kalapana’s fresh lava flows, Sophie had discovered the body dump of a murdered family. Further investigation had determined that they had been in WITSEC. Matsue had boldly asserted that no witness under the Marshals Service’s protection who followed safety protocols and direction had ever lost his life—but that case had uncovered a leak in the program’s operation on the Big Island that had led to the family’s assassination.

Sophie had contacted the Ghost about it. The Ghost specialized in dealing with the unreachable, and some sort of leak within WITSEC was just the kind of challenge he loved. He, of all people, was able to hunt down and identify a breach in the agency’s security. Connor relished nothing more than to turn whoever was involved against each other using his unique computer skills and the Ghost software.

Connor had let her know he was making progress at unearthing the source of the leak, and now that Holly Rayme was Sophie’s client, she needed to find out exactly what that progress was.

The photovoltaic lamp created a reflection of her face on the dark surface of the monitor, inactive but for a pulsing green cursor as she waited to see if Connor reacted to her use of his program.

Sophie studied the outline of her visage.

She’d been told she was beautiful before a recent gunshot wound had disfigured her. Now, whenever Sophie saw her face, the scar was all she noticed.

In the monitor’s reflection, the shape of her face was still a pleasing oval. Her lips were full, her nose straight, her brows a symmetrical bracket above her eyes.

That was where the good news ended. Sophie’s eyes were misaligned; one tilted up, one down. The extensive graft and prosthetic used to patch her shattered cheekbone had pulled the skin of her face in slightly different directions. A pink line of scarring bisected her cheek and ran all the way up into her hairline, as if she’d taken a slash from a knife or other sharp object. The color of the graft was slightly different too, the pale gold tone of skin from Sophie’s hip.

Still. She should be grateful. Other than curious looks upon meeting her, people treated her normally. The three men she was close to had shown no sign of being repulsed.

The green cursor unspooled as Connor made contact. Sophie. Are you there?

Waiting for you, she typed back. I need info about the WITSEC leak. My client is in the program, and I want to make sure she’s safe.

We should talk on the phone.

But then she’d have to hear his smooth, buttery voice, and resist the feelings that voice stirred up.

Sophie had thought she loved him. He’d been the first man she’d slept with after her abusive husband. They’d begun a relationship she thought was going somewhere special and permanent.

And then he’d betrayed her.

Sophie was never going to let it go, because his behavior pointed to a deeper problem: he’d never love her as much as he loved his vigilantism as the Ghost.

No phone. This is fine. Tell me what you’ve found out. Their chat function was untraceable, and actually better than a phone conversation in that way.

"I’ve confirmed that there’s a leak in the Hawaii branch of Witness Protection. The Marshals keep their witness locations secret, but within a framework of known and vetted safe houses. Once a witness is out of active custody, they are supposed to maintain a low profile under their new identity and not make any contact with their old life. In the case of the Jones family whose bodies you were unfortunate enough to find, the mother had taken an unauthorized shopping trip to Oahu and broke protocol. Her activity was logged and may have been what triggered the leak.

The security breach begins with a RAT attached to the Hawaii WITSEC server. The information is then sold to the witness’s enemies by a dirty agent via Tor. I am not able to identify who the agent is: the harvesting computer is masked by multiple VPNs. But this is someone with computer skills who is doing a good job of covering their tracks within the agency, and even keeping the leak secret by hiding it behind protocol violations."

Sophie could picture Connor’s chiseled features in the glow of a monitor somewhere, his fingers flying on the keys as he talked to her in a language they both understood. A RAT was a Remote Access Trojan, a burrowing program that could turn any computer into a spy device. VPNs were Virtual Private Networks, a way of scrambling a location by bouncing it off different servers, and Tor referred to accessing the dark net of untraceable sites.

Sophie responded. I’m now working with an agent to guard my client. Client’s name is Holly Rayme. Agent’s name is Hazel Matsue. I’ve been hired by several families of the Chang victims to make sure Rayme lives long enough to testify against Akane Chang. I’ll be in a position to surveil Matsue, at least. Sophie gazed up and to the left, considering. I could put DAVID to work on coming up with parallels between the cases that were leaked/breached. See if there are any patterns.

Good idea. I can send you a file with the witnesses lost that are likely a result of the RAT.

That would make my work easier. Why can’t you shut down the RAT? A good programmer could deploy countermeasures that would disable such a virus, and Sophie was surprised that Connor hadn’t done so.

I could. But then, the operator would know someone was onto him, and would find some other way to do business. This is perfect. You and I will work together to uncover the dirty agent, then we can eliminate the RAT.

No. Sophie wasn’t partnering with Connor on anything. My focus is narrow. I am concerned only with protecting my client.

I don’t believe that, Sophie. I saw photos of the Jones family’s massacre. You must want what happened to them to be stopped.

Sophie frowned.

Connor was right. She saw the little Jones girl’s pecked-out eyes every time she thought of the case. She typed back rapidly. Let’s begin here and see where this goes. I have a meeting with Matsue tomorrow at noon. I will ingratiate myself.

Darling Sophie, you are many things, but not ingratiating. Just be yourself. And if that fails and she won’t work with you, you can just work with me.

He was right that she wasn’t good at ingratiating herself. People either liked her or they didn’t. I will do that anyway, given my alleged lack of socialization. Sophie paused. Where are you?

Does it matter?

I would like to know if you are in Hawaii. The FBI was still after the Ghost. She hadn’t expected that he would come back to the United States anytime soon, if ever.

I’m in Thailand. Very interesting, your country of origin. Corruption is rife. I’m very busy.

Her heart thundered. She placed a palm over it to still its galloping.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that her estranged mother, Pim Wat, had so recently contacted her with an outrageous proposal; the stated reason for that was that Thailand’s government was under attack via technology. Was Connor involved? Would working for her mother’s clandestine organization, the Yām Khûmkạn, pit her against the Ghost?

She still needed to contact her ambassador father, Frank Smithson, and his Secret Service agent, Ellie Smith, about her mother’s spying.

I will proceed with caution and get back to you soon. Hopefully we can identify the security breach quickly, Sophie typed. She wasn’t about to let Connor know about her mother’s bizarre visit and proposal about joining the secret group.

And then we’ll plug the leak. Permanently, the Ghost typed back. We’ll do what no one else can.

He was appealing to her vanity, trying to paint them as a team. Sophie chose to ignore that baiting comment. Thank you for taking the case, Sophie typed. I have always understood the reason why you do what you do.

Anything for you, Sophie.

Don’t. Just don’t, Connor. All the confusion Sophie was feeling about the men in her life rose up in a rush of resentment. You had your chance with me, and you blew it up. Literally. Take this case because it’s the right thing to do. No other reason.

I do what I want, for whom I want, when I want. It’s called freedom, and it’s a rare elixir few can afford. Goodbye, Sophie.

The green cursor chat box winked out.

Chapter Six

Alika faced Sophie from across a heavily lacquered wooden table in a little breakfast café in Hilo. The ambiance of a busy restaurant swirled around them: the chatter of customers, the smell of coffee brewing, the clash of dishes in the back.

Sophie doused her Lipton tea bag in a thick china cup. Alika tried not to be obvious about staring at her, but it was hard. He was starved to see her, touch her, know everything about what she’d been through since he dropped her off for her hike just a few weeks ago.

Sophie was on the thin side of what looked best on her—every muscle tightly defined and her cheekbones hollow. The scar on her face seemed to have settled into whatever it was going to be; the vivid red line was fading, and the color change of the skin graft had become less noticeable as it healed and she got sun exposure on the new skin.

She was still too beautiful for her own good.

A little twist of disgust tightened Sophie’s full lips, the expression of a dedicated tea drinker faced with an inferior beverage. He smiled as she dipped the tea bag repeatedly. I’m glad you could make the time to see me.

She smiled back. I will always make time to see you, Alika.

That didn’t make his pulse pick up at all. You said you had a pretty eventful case recently. And it’s continuing.

Correct. I had a week to do some sightseeing with my partner Jake when phase one of the case wrapped, but then I was retained again. Now I’m providing security for an endangered witness.

Sounds dangerous.

Sophie shrugged. The Witness Protection Program is carrying most of the responsibility.

So, what’s today like? Alika didn’t want to push his luck. She had been distant on the phone during the last few weeks; in fact, ever since he had dropped her off on the black lava plain of Kalapana after their Kaua`i adventure, he’d felt her drifting away.

I’m free until about noon. That’s why I could meet with you. I am having lunch with the U.S. Marshal working my case later, but if you wanted to take a run from here up to Rainbow Falls, I’ve always wanted to see it and haven’t had a chance to go.

Their breakfast arrived, and Alika grinned at the giant spread of eggs, fried rice, Portuguese sausage and pineapple slices. He gestured with his chin to Sophie’s loaded plate. We’re going to be moving slowly after this crazy pile of food.

Fine with me. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, as they say. Sophie picked up her fork and dug in.

He sneaked another glance. She needed the calories. You’re looking good, Sophie.

I am not. I haven’t been caring for myself. But I appreciate the compliment.

You’re just a little raggedy around the edges. I hope you’re planning to change that. Or I might have to come over here and keep an eye on you. He spoke jokingly, but Sophie’s eyes widened with alarm.

I am not ready to be in a relationship right now. I told Jake the same thing.

Jake. That testosterone-driven asshole with his over-the-top Special Forces stories. The dude probably spent the whole two weeks he’d been working with Sophie trying to get her into bed.

So you had that talk with Jake, did you? Alika shook salt onto his eggs for something to do.

I think Jake is in love with me. It’s very confusing. Sophie continued to shovel in her breakfast.

Alika froze, his fork poised. Trust Sophie to say something so unvarnished and real. Confusing? In what way? Alika took a bite and made himself chew. He kept his eyes down so he didn’t reveal too much and spook her.

Confusing. Because I have feelings. For both of you. Sophie had finished half of her breakfast. She set down her fork and looked him in the eye as she picked up her mug of tea. I care too much to lie to you, Alika. Jake and I got physically involved during our case. But he wanted more than that, and I didn’t. So that ended.

Alika’s gut tightened so abruptly that he felt queasy. She had slept with Jake. And as much as Sophie meant to him, as he hoped that she cared for him too, they’d never been together that way. He’d never had more than a few kisses in all the years they’d spent together.

Wow. Alika set down his fork and picked up his coffee mug, wrapping both hands around it. The sight of his brown-skinned fingers against the white mug and the warmth of the china seeping into his flesh stabilized him. Well. I’m not going to lie. Hearing that sucks, because I was hoping we were headed toward being together after our case on Kaua`i.

I’m sorry to hurt you. Sophie’s honey-brown eyes were wide and earnest. I am trying to be as honest and straightforward as I can. I care for you greatly. It is different from how I care for Jake. And for… She bit her lips, stifling something she was about to say. She looked down at her fingers wrapped around her own mug. We can be together, but only if you accept that this is where I am right now in my life. I don’t know where I will be, physically or emotionally, even next week. If you can accept that there are secrets and things I can’t tell you, and if you can accept that you are not the only man I care for…then we can be together, to the degree that leaves us.

The pain took a moment to register, like a blow to the solar plexus when landed by a good opponent: the recipient was paralyzed for a moment, the air blasted out of him, his body sending a signal that a severe disruption had occurred that the brain couldn’t yet interpret.

Alika stood abruptly. He pulled out his wallet and threw several twenties onto the table. You made no promises. I made no promises. We broke up. But that’s a hell of a lot of ‘ifs’ in one sentence.

You don’t have to answer right away. Sophie hadn’t moved. Her eyes looked soft, pleading. You can think about it and get back to me.

I need some fresh air. If I’m still outside when you finish your breakfast, we can run to the falls together. Alika spun and walked out.

The glass door tinkled as he exited the building. He walked blindly to the end of the café and turned, striding around it into the narrow graveled alley behind the restaurant. Once out of sight of the busy street, Alika cursed, coloring the air with every foul word he’d learned in a lifetime. He kicked the big green dumpster behind the bistro a couple of times, shadow-punching the air; wishing he could punch Jake, and her ex-husband, and that boyfriend she’d had who’d died. Damn them all to hell for messing her up further.

Immediate frustration discharged; grateful he had not attracted any attention, Alika went into one of his martial arts routines.

When in doubt, work it out. One of his favorite coaching sayings.

The discipline of the choreographed movements, the challenging nature of the spins, kicks and turns grounded Alika, calmed him. He wasn’t in control of much—but he would manage himself, and that was enough.

When he had completed that round, he began another one.

Alika spotted Sophie out of the corner of his eye. She’d walked into the alley, her dog at her side. She was leaning against the corner of the diner, watching him.

She had not accepted that he was gone. She had come looking for him.

New energy flowed into Alika as he completed the tae kwon do sequence, ending it with a showy roundhouse kick and spin combo. Catching his breath, he closed his eyes and folded his hands. He bowed in her direction.

He opened his eyes.

Sophie stood straight as a slender coconut palm, hands loose at her sides but for the one grasping Ginger’s leash. Her eyes were suspiciously shiny, but all she said was, Do you still want to take a run to Rainbow Falls?

I’ll take what I can get, he said, and walked toward her.

Chapter Seven

Sophie ran beside Alika through the residential warren of streets on the inland side of Hilo, keeping her breath as even as possible, though her former coach set a blistering pace. Ginger was beginning to lag when they arrived at the Rainbow Falls parking lot, filled with rental cars and parked tourist buses. Close to Hilo, spectacular Rainbow Falls was a popular destination because it was near the town and accessible to even the most handicapped visitors.

Sophie followed Alika as they jogged around the milling crowds to the furthest overlook area, a concrete platform between two huge mango trees. She bent over at the waist, her hands on her knees, trying to calm nausea brought on by eating a heavy breakfast and running hard shortly afterward.

We can walk on the way back. Alika wasn’t nearly as winded as she was, even after his vigorous routine in the alley behind the restaurant. His warm brown skin gleamed in the sleeveless shirt he wore as he leaned his elbows on the barrier, gazing at the falls. Sophie’s gaze traced the contours of his arms, banded by Polynesian tribal tattoos in triangular patterns.

Sophie turned and rested her arms on the cool metal railing. The scene gradually soothed Sophie and slowed her heart rate. Water gushed over the high rim of a cliff, cascading with a roar to fall eighty feet into a deep, round pool. Heliconia, ti leaf and various other tropical plantings rimmed the area in pleasing array. A rainbow glowed at the foaming base of the cascade.

She pointed. I see why the falls has that name.

Alika nodded. Classic scene. We have some beauties like this on Kaua`i, too, but not so close to a city as this. No wonder the tourists love it.

After the intensity of the conversation in the restaurant, just finding their way to some normal interaction felt good.

Sophie had exited the diner after finishing her breakfast to discover Alika had disappeared. She shivered a little, remembering the shock of pain she’d felt at seeing the sidewalk empty. She’d walked to the Jeep she’d leased. Inside, Ginger whined and scratched at the window. Sophie had decided she would walk the dog and try to work the tension out of her own muscles—and maybe she’d find Alika somehow. She’d leashed the Lab, and Ginger towed Sophie straight into the alley.

The sight of Alika whirling, punching and kicking through one of his martial arts routines had stopped her in her tracks.

Alika was a beautiful man inside and out. The devastating attack more than a year ago had left him in a coma with broken bones; but, after months of rehab and working with a special trainer, he had reclaimed power and grace. She could watch the way the sun gleamed on his muscles as he moved all day long. Knowing how hard he’d worked and how much he’d lost because of her ex-husband’s insane jealousy made witnessing the strength he’d regained even sweeter.

Challenging as this situation was to navigate, she couldn’t have lived with lying to him about her involvement with Jake, or her decision to stay unattached.

After taking in the Rainbow Falls scene for a few minutes more, and refreshing with some water, they turned and headed back toward town at a leisurely pace.

Sophie’s stomach was finally settling after the exertion of the run and the large meal. Alika’s hand swung loose beside her, and she reached out to hook a forefinger around his, not quite holding his hand, but touching and connected nonetheless. I’m sorry if I hurt you.

Better than being lied to, even by omission. Alika’s warm brown eyes were steady. He was always steady. Even when he was hurting, he would never direct that hurt at her. Tell me straight if it’s worth my time staying a few extra days on island so we can spend some time together.

I would love that. But I’m working. We will have to see each other when we can fit it in. She laced her fingers with his, happy that he’d allowed the small contact.

I’m working too—hunting for wood. Alika described the reason he had come to the Big Island. It was difficult to locate enough of the rare native koa hardwood he wanted for the finishing touches he had planned for a series of exclusive bungalows.

Listening to his building business challenges was a refreshing contrast to the kinds of things Sophie was dealing with. She enjoyed the mellow sound of his voice, the lilt of pidgin in the background of his speech as he told her about the underground network needed to find enough of the right wood. It’s always a guy who knows a guy who had a tree fall on his land, Alika said. So I end up going out to these interesting places and haggling with people for cash.

But you don’t harvest the wood? There’s no lumberyard that specializes in it or a place that grows it?

"Yes, you can buy it at the lumberyard. But it’s thirty to sixty dollars a board foot, and they don’t usually have enough. Koa is protected, so the only wood available is from natural deadfalls. It’s a hardwood, so trees take twenty-five or more years to grow to a decent size. The wood’s a limited resource, and only getting scarcer."

There were a lot of trees in the area where I was hiking during my last case, Sophie said. She thought of the dense jungle where Akane Chang had taken her. Her skin crawled at the memory of the man’s touch, and she let go of Alika’s hand to rub her arms briskly. Whatever they needed to do to keep that man incarcerated had to be done. That reminded her of the upcoming meeting with Matsue. She took out her phone. I must hurry. My next appointment is coming up.

They broke into a jog.

Back at the Jeep near the restaurant, Alika lifted Sophie’s hand to kiss her knuckles. The warm, sensual touch moved through her like lightning. I’ll text you this evening. Maybe we can get dinner.

I’ll cook for you in my tree house, Sophie said impulsively.

Tree house? His brows arched. This I gotta see.

Yes, and I would like to show it to you. My abode is most unusual. Small, but has everything Ginger and I need. I will let you know when we can meet. I will lead you there; the location is obscure. Their hands were still linked, and this time she kissed Alika’s knuckles, and held his gaze as she did so. Thank you for not giving up on me.

Chapter Eight

Sophie slid into the booth across from Hazel Matsue. How is our witness?

Good. Safe. And that’s the important thing. Matsue’s asymmetrical bob swung forward, sleek and tidy, as she perused the restaurant’s menu. Matsue’s innate stylishness made the white tee with jeans, and a red cotton vest that concealed her weapon and badge, look like a fashion statement. Ms. Rayme is rather vocal when she’s uncomfortable. And she is uncomfortable at the moment.

How? In what way? Sophie accepted a slightly greasy laminated menu from an approaching waitress. This restaurant was across town from where she’d breakfasted with Alika. Her belly was still full, though, from that heavy meal. She ordered an iced tea.

Rayme is through the worst of the withdrawals, but still craving. She misses that dead dysfunctional boyfriend of hers. And she is isolated from other human contact, and without a phone.

I have experienced some of what you are describing on my last case. I was in Kalalau, on a solo hike, and had a taste of everything but the withdrawals. It was indeed uncomfortable.

Well. Matsue took out a manila file and a ballpoint pen and slid the items across to Sophie. Let’s stay focused on the purpose for this meeting. I ran your background by my supervisor, and we’re a go for you to help provide support on security with this case. Here is an interagency agreement for working with you and Security Solutions. We can’t share the witness’s location, but we can collaborate on keeping her safe and managing her until the trial, and even beyond if you like.

The relatives of victims who joined together to pay for my services through Security Solutions were only concerned with seeing this case through to trial. Do we have a court date yet? Sophie flipped open the file and scanned