Page 13 of Wired Strong

Sophie frowned. “That’s vague.”

“Yes, because I can’t explain it. For me it was like this: I was digging, and he was there, meditating. And then he was at my side with a rope, and the hole was wide enough for a person to enter.” Raveaux shrugged. “Maybe I was just so caught up in the urgency of the moment. We knew you both were unconscious because of the way he described your energy fields, and that you didn’t respond to our hails.”

Sophie picked up her teacup, holding it in both hands, but tea splashed anyway because she was trembling so badly. She saw those terrible moments from another angle: herself, passed out but breathing on the ledge above Jake. He’d lain below her, inhaling toxic gases.

Dying.

“Sophie.” Fernandez’s voice was soft, calling her back.

She set down her cup and reached for the tea towel. She dabbed the spill. “I’m sorry. It’s still emotional to revisit that time. Please go on, Pierre.”

Raveaux nodded. “An awful experience for all, especially Jake. But those were the two moments when I believe that Connor did something—unexplainable.”

“I’ve seen him do extraordinary feats physically,” Sophie said. “But nothing I would call paranormal.”

Fernandez sharpened his gaze upon her. “Now, young lady. Since we’re laying this all out here in the open, you’ve maintained to me that you were aware that Connor had two other identities, both legally deceased, and that he was wanted in connection with rumored activities as a cyber vigilante known as the Ghost. Do you continue to deny knowing anything about that?”

“I know Connor as a former lover, and current friend. Also, as the founder of Security Solutions. Yes, he willed the company over to me, along with his private island, when he chose to join that Thai espionage organization. But I know nothing about this “Ghost” aspect.” Sophie made air quotes with her fingers.

“Good.” Fernandez’s response was definite. “Keep it that way.”

The lawyer then turned to Raveaux. “There’s not much I can do for you, sir, except to insist that law enforcement have cause to detain you if they try to do so. I would have no control over any deportation proceedings, though I can contact a friend of mine who specializes in immigration law. And as to this “Ghost” element of the investigation—do you have any knowledge of that?”

Raveaux stood up and paced. He moved like a shark through water, almost lazily graceful, but he was back in front of the desk again in seconds when he turned to face Sophie. “I do have something to share, and I must say it. But I regret, very much, Sophie, that it may cause you pain.”

Chapter Eleven

Raveaux

Raveaux faced Sophie,sitting in the sleek armchair with the ruddy-faced little lawyer across from her on the couch. He slid his hands into his pockets and played nervously with Gita’s little gold Ganesh amulet, a token he’d given her long ago.

Sophie sat stiffly. “What could you possibly have to say that would hurt me?”

“I didn’t tell you something that I should have. I thought you had enough to bear,” Raveaux said.

Sophie seemed to have turned to golden-brown stone, but her eyes were wide and fierce. He was seared by her gaze from across the room. “You have no idea what I can take, what I have borne, and what I’ll continue to deal with. It’s not your place to make any decisions for me or about me. How dare you withhold information that I should have had!”

Raveaux winced under the lash of her words. He broke eye contact and paced, trying to find a place to begin his narrative.

“Now, Ms. Smithson,” Fernandez moderated. “I’m sure Monsieur Raveaux was only trying to help. Grief makes every emotion more intense, and there’s a good chance that this information would not have made a big difference—or he would have shared it with you by now. Correct, Monsieur?”

“I don’t know what difference it would have made, but you’re right. I should have disclosed this sooner.” Raveaux turned and addressed Sophie. “Remember when I told you that I was visited by two agents who threatened me, and that was the start of my involvement in this investigation?”

Sophie gave a short nod. Her eyes were still hot, her lush mouth a folded line.

“That wasn’t the whole truth. Remember when we met on the sidewalk outside of the hospital when you were discharged after being treated for smoke inhalation suffered during your ordeal on the Big Island? My involvement with the case began then, with your father.”

Her glare was unwavering.

“The ambassador slipped a stick drive into my hand when he shook it that day.”

The color drained from Sophie’s face. She leaned forward and turned her teacup around and around.

“The storage device the ambassador gave me contained extensive information about the case against Connor,” Raveaux went on. “Everything that the FBI has on him, secret interior documents from Security Solutions, even details about the retrieval of six bodies from the Thai jungle by the CIA.”

“No,” Sophie whispered. “My father doesn’t know any of that. I made sure of it.”

Raveaux forged on. “The documents show that you were somehow involved with the conspiracy around Connor. Your role is implicit in the contents of the file: the documentation you provided, declaring the man calling himself Sheldon Hamilton legally dead, a man the FBI believes was also known as Todd Remarkian, supposedly killed in an explosion. It’s documented there that you once had a romantic relationship with Remarkian. That man, calling himself Connor, is now residing at an armed compound in Thailand run by the clandestine organization, the Yam Khûmk?n. There’s no way you couldn’t have known all this.” Raveaux paced. “What wasn’t in the file was any clear connection between the man I met who rescued you and the vigilante known as the Ghost. They have no proof of that. They do seem to know that Connor was once known as both Sheldon Hamilton and Todd Remarkian—and they think you assisted in the coverup around his identities.”

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