Page 7 of Wired Courage

“My mother,” Sophie said. “I knew it.” She felt a strange kind of relief to have it confirmed; at least her mother probably wouldn’t harm Momi. The baby would be all right until Sophie could get her back—though Sophie had no idea how steep the price would be.

“Hamilton thinks it was Pim Wat, too.” Jake slid a hand up her arm. “I’m so sorry. For what I implied.” He squeezed her bicep gently. “I was wrong. The cops were wrong.”

“I don’t forgive you,” Sophie said. “You know my deepest fears and wounds and insecurities, and you judged me by them. Please don’t touch me.” Her voice sounded wooden and stilted. She felt frozen, a pillar of ice.

Jake dropped his hand and stepped back. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“I’m done talking about it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Where’s Hamilton? I need to speak with him.”

“Funny. Hamilton was demanding to see you as well, but I told everyone you needed your rest.” Jake ran a hand through his hair. “I know I messed up. We have to get past this.”

Sophie turned away and walked toward her closet, ignoring his comment. Jake went on. “Hamilton really shook things up and got the investigation headed in the right direction. We all owe him for that.”

“At least he believed in me.” A spike of rage tightened Sophie’s belly. Connor was a white man, loaded with money and authority, arriving in a car with a driver, calm and collected—not a hysterical new mother with a history of depression. The sexism was blatant and repulsive. That she’d needed Connor to intervene made Sophie want to hit someone—Jake, specifically. “Give me some privacy, please. I’m changing.”

“Seriously? I’ve seen it all, Sophie. Been with you as you delivered a baby, for God’s sake. Consider all we’ve been through before you just kick me out.” Jake’s voice vibrated with hurt and outrage.

Sophie kept her back to him, standing stiffly. “I’m changing, Jake. Please leave.”

He left.

Sophie found a tight running bra and wedged herself into it, inserting pads to sop up leaks. She pulled on yoga pants and a black Security Solutions polo that hadn’t fit around her girth in five months. As she sat on the bed and bent over to tie on running shoes, her soft, squishy belly got in the way. She pushed at it and felt a gush of fluid from down below.“Bitch goddess in charge of hell.”

She had to change her pads—again. Giving birth wasn’t, apparently, something you just got up and walked away from with no side effects.

Sophie took care of the necessary things, and then packed the bag she’d arrived with a couple of weeks ago. She put her laptop and tablet in the backpack that had always served in lieu of a purse, and, carrying the loaded duffel, she stood in the doorway of the room, looking back at the place where she’d given birth and spent one beautiful night with her baby girl.

What an incredible, unforgettable, intense experience. And it’s true, Jake had been with her every challenging minute of it. He’d never flinched or wavered. He’d been her rock.

Sophie’s eyes teared up as she spotted the yellow flannel sheet from the bassinet tangled in the bedclothes. She hurried back and picked up the cloth, burying her face in the soft flannel for a moment. The baby’s smell caused her sensitive, sore breasts to tingle as milk let down.“Devilish female parts,”she swore. Fortunately, she had on the breast shields and the tight bra; the problem would go away within a week, the doctor had said.

Sophie slipped the precious flannel into her backpack and zipped it up. She shut the door and walked quietly to the landing, hearing the murmur of unfamiliar voices down in the great room below.

The cops were still here, and she hadn’t given her statement yesterday.

Sophie hid the backpack and her duffel behind a large ceramic potted palm on the upper landing. She descended the stairs, proud of how steady she was on her feet. Ignoring the sound of talking coming from the great room, she went into the kitchen.

She needed strong tea, and lots of it, to deal with what lay ahead.

Esther was washing dishes at the sink and turned to Sophie with a smile. “My dear. You’re ready for action, I see.”

“Yes. I’m getting Momi back.” Sophie approached the older woman, and embraced her from the side as Esther’s hands were still deep in suds. “Thank you for believing in me. You were the only one who didn’t think I did something to Momi.”

Esther had bequeathed large, expressive brown eyes to her grandson Alika, and now those familiar eyes fixed on Sophie’s face. “You mustn’t blame the boys too much. They were in terrible shock, too.”

Sophie pulled back. “But I do blame them, Esther. They judged me as unstable.”

“Pause for a moment,ku`uipo. If Jake, or Alika for that matter, had fallen asleep with the baby and then woken to find her gone, wouldn’t there have been suspicion upon them? Especially Jake. Momi is not his,” Esther said gently. She turned back to the dishes. “There is tea beside the stove.”

The woman always seemed to know what Sophie was thinking.

Chapter Six

Day Nine

“You’re looking better, today, Ms. Smithson.” Detective Jack Jenkins had been home and had a shower and a change of clothes to judge by the comb tracks in his short gelled blond hair. The young man’s eyes were candid as he assessed Sophie.

Hearing her maiden name still gave Sophie a tiny twinge of surprise. She’d gone through the necessary steps to change her name legally prior to Momi’s birth—it had been past time to close the chapter of her life that had involved her early and disastrous marriage to Assan Ang. “Thank you. I am ready to make a statement.”

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