Page 67 of Wired Strong

“I’m not terribly surprised to hear that,” Sophie said at last. “And, to be truthful, I don’t know how I feel about Connor getting an immunity deal. Did you . . . see that photo of the Master?”

Marcella swallowed. “It was pretty bad.”

“The man I used to know would never have done something like that. I’m—disturbed.”

“You don’t know the circumstances. Maybe it was self-defense.” Marcella couldn’t believe she was defending that man! She went on briskly. “This is all moot until he gets Pim Wat, too.”

“Pim Wat is a deadly, twisted psychopath, but sheisstill my mother. We’re talking about having my ex-boyfriend hunt down my parent, and kill her. How are we even having this conversation?” Sophie’s voice rose. “How is this who we are?”

“I don’t know what to say.” It was the absolute truth. “Maybe you should talk to Dr. Wilson.”

“I’m sure Dr. Wilson would agree that the whole situation is insane,” Sophie said. “And she can’t wave a magic wand and change anything about it. Thanks for letting me know what they decided.” Her friend ended the call abruptly.

“Aw, shit.” Marcella stopped, put her hands on her hips, and leaned backward to gaze up at the deep blue sky. “She has a point.”

But as horrifying as it was, none of them would rest easy until Pim Wat was dealt with—dead or alive. Preferably, dead.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Sophie

The dogs had gone outwith her father already, so she was alone in her bedroom, the blackout drapes drawn, and until Marcella’s call, she had been deeply asleep. Sophie turned the phone off and set it down on the table beside her bed.

She’d been having some kind of wonderful dream, and she wished she could return to it.

What was it?Oh yes. She, Momi, and Jake had been building a sandcastle on the pristine white beach at Phi Ni. Armita was coming down the stairs from the house on the bluff, carrying a picnic basket. Momi set a beautiful spiral shell she had picked up near the water on top of the castle. Jake held Sophie’s hand, even though they were trying to build the castle together.

She’d been laughing at how silly that was.

Then the phone rang with that ugly news from Marcella.“Boils covering a poxy whore’s ass!”Sophie threw an arm over her eyes, feeling them prickle.

That scene at the beach had never happened.A pure imaginary dream. She and Jake had not had a lot of time to play with Momi there. All wishful thinking.

This was Sophie’s real life: alone in her bed, pregnant with her dead fiancé’s baby—while her dangerous criminal mother was hunted by a squad of ninja assassins, and her ex-boyfriend became a murdering cult leader.

Time for her five-minute cryfest.Sophie reached over to her phone, set the timer for five minutes, and turned her face into the pillow. She let the sobs come.

* * *

Frank knocked gentlyon the door sometime later. “Sophie! I made your favorite pancakes.” He spoke in the teasing voice he’d used when she was five years old. “I put extra bananas in yours.”

That promise still worked.

Sophie tossed the covers aside and set her feet on the floor. Getting up for pancakes had to be better than her bitter ruminations.

She had other good things to get up for, too: she was eager to find out what the school had decided about Conrad Kanekoa. She’d had a message from Leede and Raveaux that their meeting had gone well, and they’d meet at her office when she was ready to come in. The thought of seeing those two lifted her spirits. “Coming, Dad! I have to take a quick shower, all right?”

“I’ll keep the pancakes warm in the oven for you.”

Sophie padded into the bathroom and took a shower, spending a little extra time under cold water to reduce the puffiness of her eyes. Her need for five minutes of heavy crying each day had subsided of late, but here it was again: the aftermath of that disturbing photo. There was no un-seeing it.

Soon she was eating a stack of pancakes liberally daubed with butter and swimming in maple syrup, as her father handed her a large mug of strong tea. “I took those rambunctious dogs out for a run already.”

The dogs, ever sensitive to any mention of them, raised their heads inquisitively from their beds near the front door.

Sophie glanced at her father. He hadn’t shaved, but the salt and pepper whiskers on his chin couldn’t detract from his handsomeness. “Thanks, Dad. I think you might be interested to know that Connor did away with the Master. The team has decided that that was not enough to give him an immunity deal. They want Pim Wat dead, as well. Connor has sent a team of assassins to find her.”

Her father froze as he was scraping the frying pan into the sink. His shoulders sagged. “She won’t come out of that alive.”

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