Page 51 of Wired Justice

“I need your help. Sophie and I are on the Big Island on a job, and something happened to her today. She won’t talk to me. Tried to ditch me. She’s holed up in a motel room with the drapes pulled, and won’t answer the door. She’s not eating. I’m looking for advice.” He rubbed his face in frustration.

“Oh, damn. Sounds like she is in one of her depression cycles. Usually there’s a trigger of some kind. Did anything unusual happen?”

“Yeah. We slept together last night, for one thing.” Jake stumbled to a halt, flushing hot and cold with embarrassment.

“Oh-ho. I kinda saw that coming.”

“It was really good. I mean, it was mutual, you know? Sophie was into it. But this morning, she began pulling away. I was expecting that, it’s her style, so I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t really surprised either.”

“Did you guys have a fight or something, afterward?”

“No. She was withdrawn but I didn’t push; I expected she needed space and the case we’re on took us in different directions during the day. I went on a house search and Sophie worked at the police station and then went to the park with the dogs. When she came to pick me up . . . I could tell something serious had happened. Maybe someone called her, did something to her. I don’t know, but she’s in a bad place.”

“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.

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