Page 3 of Wired Courage

Jake whispered in her ear, his arms and body heat surrounding her, warming her. “Did you see anything? Hear anything?”

“No!”

“Could you have . . . sleepwalked? Put her somewhere?”

Sophie recoiled. “No! Of course not! You saw what I saw. Momi is gone! I don’t know how, but she is gone!” She clawed her way out of his arms.That he’d even imagined she had done something with Momi . . .

Sirens. The slam of doors. The dogs barking. More murmuring voices. Thump of feet on the stairs.

The investigators would be checking her room, looking for clues, a ransom note—but there was nothing.

Her baby was just gone, as if she’d never been there at all.

Chapter Three

Day Eight

Connor, aka Sheldon Hamilton, Sophie and Jake’s boss at their private security firm, waited impatiently as his driver Thom Tang parked a Security Solutions SUV behind the police vehicles jamming up the driveway at Alika Wolcott’s Princeville home. He got out of the vehicle and looked back at Thom. “Make sure both the helicopter and the jet are tuned up and fully fueled. We may be leaving soon.”

“You got it, boss.” The Thai man inclined his head. “I’ll call the fuel company right now.”

Connor navigated around three cop cars parked willy-nilly, blocking the driveway. He’d taken the jet from his private island in Thailand as soon as he heard Sophie had delivered the baby early; he’d landed on Kaua`i only to learn that the infant had been kidnapped.

He couldn’t imagine what Sophie, Jake, and Alika were going through when his own shock and fury were so acute—and he hadn’t even met the baby they’d all been looking forward to for so many long months.

Esther Ka`awai, Alika’s grandmother, let him into the mansion. The Hawaiian woman’s face was haggard, her black and silver hair straggling out of a knot at the back of her neck. “Oh good, Mr. Hamilton, you’re here. Jake and Sophie will be so glad to see you, and have Security Solutions help with all of this.” Esther leaned in close, cupping her mouth to whisper in his ear. “The police are acting like Sophie did something to the baby.”

“What?” Connor recoiled. “Obviously this was the work of someone who wishes her harm, and there’s nothing that would hurt her more than losing her child.”

“I know.” Esther smoothed her flowered muumuu housedress with gnarled hands. Her large brown eyes were shadowed, but calm. “I’m glad I told you this, then. The longer there is no ransom note, the more Jake and Alika begin to believe it, as well as the police. Such a thing is like poison in a wound—it enters in small amounts, and spreads to kill.”

Connor stared at the dignified older woman in growing horror. “This will destroy Sophie. I have to get her out of here.”

“You may not be able to,” Esther said, but she was speaking to his back as Connor strode out of the foyer, heading for the mansion’s great room.

Jake, Alika, and several uniformed police officers sat on couches facing each other, with a phone in the middle of the coffee table. Connor swept the room with a glance, taking in coffee cups and a plate of malasadas.

A young blond detective approached him, holding up a badge that identified him as Jack Jenkins. “And you are?”

“Sheldon Hamilton. CEO of Security Solutions, Jake Dunn and Sophie Smithson’s employer.” He pinned Jake with a glare. “Where’s Sophie? Why aren’t you taking care of her?”

“She’s sleeping. Sedated,” Jake said. The ex-Special Forces operative looked pale and somehow diminished. “We couldn’t calm her down. She went a little nuts.”

Alika stood up. He, too, looked exhausted and wan. “We tried everything to get her to settle, but after the police tried to interview her, she went a little berserk.” An amputee, he gestured with his remaining arm to a sideboard covered with smashed crockery and an overturned sculpture.

Connor cursed. “Of course she did! Where is she?” He spun on a heel, looking toward the stairs.

All of the officers stood up and their hands dropped to their weapons. “Stay where you are, sir,” Detective Jenkins said. “This is an active investigation. If you have any information pertinent to the case, we need your full cooperation.”

Connor ignored the man, returning his attention to Jake. “Why haven’t you called Sophie’s friend Marcella Scott at the FBI? Or her father Frank Smithson, the ambassador?”

Jake cleared his throat. “We have confidence in our team here,” he said. His eyes darted to the side, signaling something. He did it again, and Connor spotted a small black device on the small side table—all of this was being recorded.

What could he say to get the police looking in a different direction than Sophie for the baby’s disappearance?

“I’d like to get your statement, sir,” the detective said. “Come into the dining area with me.”

The baby’s disappearance had to have something to do with Sophie’s terrible mother, Pim Wat, with her ties to Thailand’s version of the CIA. Jake, at least, had to suspect that too, even if Alika didn’t know enough to point a finger in that direction. But these local cops would never believe some far-fetched tale about Sophie’s spy assassin mother without some kind of evidence.

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