Page 33 of Wired Strong

The two women stared at each other. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to be honest,” Sophie said.

Two large, savory bowls of noodles arrived at the perfect time, emitting delicious smells and wafts of steam. The cook patted Sophie on the shoulder. “I expect to see all of that gone.”

“I can eat this portion with little difficulty.” Sophie picked up her chopsticks and spoon, and dove in.

Marcella did the same. For a good five minutes there was no sound but that of them slurping, sipping, and chewing. The knot of anxiety in Marcella’s chest began to loosen.

Finally, Sophie spoke. “I’ll check our secret chat room and see if Connor has responded to my message about cutting him off. I will feel my way forward to see if there is an opening to share this opportunity.” She raised her eyes to meet Marcella’s. “You know that this is a very dangerous plan. The Master and Pim Wat are formidable enemies.”

“I know.” Marcella grasped Sophie’s hand, heartened. “And I’m sorry. For all of it. No one should have to bear what you have had to.”

“And yet, still I thrive.” Sophie smiled. “I am finding happiness in the little things. Satisfaction in my work, and in the friends who remain, like you. Yes, I still grieve for Jake, but my life is full, and I’m grateful for that.”

Marcella squeezed Sophie’s hand. “Life isn’t over until it’s over, and you seem to have extra angels looking out for you.”

“You are one of them.” Sophie lifted Marcella’s hand and gave her knuckles a quick kiss.

Sophie was usually so undemonstrative. She didn’t even like hugging. “Don’t get soft on me,” Marcella growled. “Finish your noodles.”

Sophie nodded, and resumed eating.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sophie

Refreshedby her nap and lunch with Marcella, Sophie returned to the basement, diving into the hard drive belonging to the main bookkeeper at Peerless Accounting.

From that rig’s accounting file, she had been able to access the software connected to the main bank account of Kama`aina Schools. Running her DAVID software through that, searching for keywords that detected uneven ratios, she had been able to identify a series of small amounts of random numbers tied to the “office costs” column in the Peerless accounting software that looked like they could be the skimmed funds.

Where were those small amounts going? They were not flowing to any particular retailer. Rather, they looked computer-generated to her, a line item in random-created amounts that were not being closely tracked. DAVID concurred with a strong affirmative probability ratio, that the amounts were artificially randomized, and not associated with “real” purchases, which tended to follow established patterns.

Sophie stood up and stretched, which she did every half hour by following a phone alarm prompt. This time, her device toned an incoming call, and she checked the ID window.

She picked up for Raveaux. “I’m glad that you called. I’ve noticed a consistent anomaly in the Kama`aina Schools’ records.”

“A consistent anomaly. What an interesting turn of phrase.” Sophie could hear the humor in Raveaux’s voice. “Have you been there since I left this morning? It’s five p.m.”

“I took a break for lunch and the rest that you suggested.” Sophie’s stomach gave a loud rumble. “I do have to wrap it up for the day, and go get something to eat.”

“That is why I called. I have a dinner I’m preparing, and you told me that you would eat my food, again, if you were invited.”

Sophie paused. She didn’t want to encourage Raveaux; give him the wrong idea about whether she was interested in him.But how could he possibly be interested in her, a grieving pregnant woman?She probably didn’t need to worry about that.

She must have taken too long to answer, because Raveaux said, “Heri Leede will also be there. We can catch up on the case so far.”

“That is perfect. I am so hungry. I had noodles earlier today, but they seemed to have burned off.” Sophie leaned over and her fingers flew on the keyboard as she began shutting down programs. “Are you still at that same address in Waikiki?”

* * *

Sophie knockedat the door of Raveaux’s apartment in the hotel district of downtown. He didn’t answer right away, so she glanced around, taking in the bright ornamental plantings and the gleam of the ocean reflected in a window nearby. Even in the evening, a feeling of happy excitement filled the air of Waikiki. This area was the heart of the tourist zone on Oahu, and it beat to the rhythm of visitors and their vacation happiness.

Raveaux opened the door. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, something he rarely did because the scars on his arms showed—and a plain white canvas apron over slacks. His brown eyes crinkled with that almost-smile.

“Good to see you, Sophie.” He stepped forward to kiss her cheeks quickly in the French way.

She chuckled as she returned the buss. “You’re very continental tonight, Pierre.”

“Mais oui. My cooking persona.” Raveaux exaggerated his accent and made a bow, gesturing with the wooden spoon he held. “Please, come in.”

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