Chapter 5 Sophie
SOPHIE
“Well, that’s not good,” Marcus said. He pulled on latex gloves with practiced efficiency, then crouched to photograph the flower from multiple angles. “Same type, same placement style. Our thief has a signature.”
“How are they moving around the island so efficiently?” Sophie studied the scene, her analytical mind clicking through possibilities. “The museum, the palace, now here—that’s a lot of ground to cover.”
“Multiple teams?” Marcus suggested, carefully bagging the plumeria. “Or really good knowledge of traffic patterns and back routes.”
“Double the security rotation,” Sophie told Bill, already revising defensive plans in her head. “I want someone inside the house at all times, not just patrolling. And review all the footage from the last week—let’s see if we had surveillance we missed.”
“Already in motion, boss. Brought in Rodriguez from the B-team, plus I’ve got Ferragut coming in tonight. She’s good with kids, in case we need someone who can be inside without making them nervous.”
Sophie nodded, grateful for his forethought.
“Whoever’s doing this knows too much,” Sophie said, the words tasting bitter.
“Agreed. You keep a low profile for someone running a major security firm,” Marcus observed, sealing the evidence bag.
“But there are always leaks. Employees talk, contractors gossip, clients make connections.” Sophie was already building lists in her mind, categorizing potential sources of information.
“I’ll have Paula pull everything—employment records for the last five years, contractor agreements, client lists that overlap with the museums. Financial records for anyone who might have a grudge. ”
“Send me the names as you get them,” Marcus said, straightening from where he’d collected the plumeria. “I’ll run them through our databases, see what pops. And Sophie?” His voice gentled. “I’m opening a formal stalking and harassment case. This goes beyond property crime now.”
The official designation carried weight—resources would be allocated, federal databases accessed, inter-agency cooperation activated.
It also meant paperwork, interviews, her family’s life under official scrutiny.
But Sophie had learned long ago that privacy was a luxury she couldn’t afford when it came to protecting her children.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “And tell Marcella I’ll call as soon as things stabilize. If this crosses state lines or involves cultural patrimony, we might need FBI resources too.”
“Already texted her. She’s standing by.” Marcus squeezed her shoulder, the gesture conveying support. “Lock down tight tonight. I’ll have units do extra patrols, but your people are better equipped than anything HPD can offer.”
Sophie walked him back to his vehicle, the dogs trailing hopefully until they realized no treats were forthcoming. As Marcus drove away, she stood for a moment in her driveway, feeling the weight of the afternoon sun on her shoulders.
Her phone buzzed. Another text from Connor, as if he could sense her thoughts from whatever monastery or boardroom currently held his physical presence.
My operative arrives tomorrow morning. He reports only to you for this mission. Trust him, Sophie. Please.
The “please” stopped her from deleting.
Connor commanded, manipulated, occasionally requested. He rarely pleaded. Received, she responded, then added after a pause: He stays outside the house. The children don’t need to have their hearts broken by another “uncle.” She couldn’t resist the jab.
Understood. Connor refused to take the bait.
Sophie deleted the conversation and headed inside, needing to see her children, to hold them and reassure herself that they were safe.
But first, she paused at her front door, hand on the carved teak panels that had weathered half a century of storms.
Someone had brought a war to her home. They’d made it personal.
Her mother had taught her many things, most of them terrible. But one lesson served her now: when someone brings a fight to your door, you don’t just defend.
You make them regret it.
* * *
Sophie entered the house, walking down the simply furnished terra-cotta tiled hall to the family room.
Armita had moved the children there after the security alarm was called off.
Once she reached the comfortable room with its short-napped carpet and sturdy furniture, she paused in the doorway, her heart filling with tender emotion as she gazed at her children.
Sean and Momi were building block towers with their nanny. Armita, a petite Thai woman dressed all in black with her hair in a no-nonsense braid, looked up to meet Sophie’s eyes with a reassuring smile.
Not for the first time, Sophie thanked the deities that Armita had come into her life. Her mother’s former handmaiden could not have been more devoted and capable, and her care of Sean and Momi made Sophie’s working life possible.
In addition, she was an actual ninja who had trained with the Yām Kh?mk?n.
Momi looked up from her blocks, her face lighting with a smile that reminded Sophie of her daughter’s father, Alika, a handsome Hawaiian man Sophie had fallen in love with after escaping her sadistic husband.
Alika’s features had influenced Momi’s tawny skin, large brown eyes, and the cascade of ringlets trailing down her back. “Mama! Look, I made a castle.”
“It’s beautiful, Little Bean,” Sophie said, kneeling to admire the elaborate construction.
Sean toddled over, arms outstretched. She scooped his sturdy body close, breathing in his baby shampoo scent and then blowing a raspberry on his neck. The little boy’s giggle shook his whole body.
“Mama pretty,” he said, patting her cheek with a chubby hand.
Sean had a pale version of Sophie’s golden skin and curly brown hair, resembling her more than his father—but his personality and demeanor were all Jake’s.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Sophie said. “Now show me what you were making. Maybe I can help.”
Sean didn’t reply but wriggled out of her arms to lead her to a pile of blocks that had so far assumed no recognizable shape. She began to stack, with Sean adding new pieces between her choices.
“Now that you’re here, I’ll go get dinner started,” Armita said. “We can catch up about the day’s events after the children are in bed.”
“Thank you, Armita. Good plan,” Sophie said. “Momi, why don’t you tell me about your castle.”
“It’s actually a museum inside a castle,” Momi said. “A lot of treasures are inside.” She pointed to tiny items from her dollhouse she had stashed in the block rooms.
“Nice job,” Sophie said. “I like that idea.”
But even here, in a fortress of a house, Sophie couldn’t shake the feeling that their safety was an illusion.
An enemy was out there stealing pieces of Hawaiian history and leaving flowers like breadcrumbs, forcing Sophie toward some kind of revelation or confrontation that had begun to feel inevitable. Whatever it was couldn’t be good.
She forced her attention back to the simple joy of the moment at hand, as Sean sat his padded bottom firmly in her lap and inserted a thumb in his mouth, watching her stack the blocks. She leaned her scarred cheek on his sweet curls.
For now, this was enough.
Her children were safe, her team was solid, and she had allies like Pierre and Marcus to help solve this mystery. Whatever game someone was playing or message they were trying to send, she and her team would figure it out.
Hopefully they could do that before the next plumeria appeared.