Page 5 of Wired Fear

“Sure. I was just leaving. Are you still here at the Stadium?”

“I’m in the parking lot.”

“Me too.” Cruz got out of a maroon minivan parked at the other end of the lot and waved, and Jake grinned as he walked toward her.

“Thanks for taking the time to talk right now. Saves me another trip.”

“Sure. Why don’t you get into the van? We can chat in comfort.” Cruz clicked her door unlocked and cleared a stuffed toy off the front seat. “Sorry about the mess.”

Jake hopped in. “Sorry for invading your personal vehicle with company business.”

“Speaking of. What is this security planning you’re doing, and why is the Tourism Authority involved?” Cruz had large, intelligent dark eyes, and a frown line that seemed chiseled between her brows, as if she were used to being skeptical.

Sophie had run a preliminary background check on the woman before Jake left the office, and she was squeaky clean—not even a parking ticket, and Kim had sworn Cruz was on the up and up. “Our firm has been hired to look into possible misuse of Tourism Authority funds.”

“Oh no!” Cruz clapped a hand over her mouth. “This can’t get out. It would ruin our reputation!”

Jake made a settling gesture with his hand. “It’s early days yet. We’re just getting started looking into things, and we have no intention of ruining anything. The interested parties just want to make sure that all funds designated for different areas of the Festival are accounted for.”

“Absolutely. I understand.” Cruz nodded. “But please keep this investigation confidential.”

“I probably shouldn’t even have told you.” Jake smiled as boyishly as he could, hoping to disarm the woman. “We hope we’re wrong, that we can find the funds. But if not, we’ll handle everything discreetly. We do Security Solutions no favors incurring the wrath of our clients and any organizations we’re working for, directly or indirectly.”

Cruz seemed to relax a little. She picked up an insulated water bottle from a nearby cup holder and took a sip. “Can you tell me who your client is?”

“I’m afraid not. But it would help us greatly if you, as the program director, could tell us if you have any concerns.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m a little out of touch with the nuts and bolts, to be honest.” Sun pouring in through the windshield had begun to heat the interior; Jake lowered his window as Cruz slid on a pair of sunglasses and turned on the car to get the air conditioning going. “There’s a committee in charge of PR and budget. I attend their meetings, but my focus has been on the competition aspect—making sure that everyone has a fair chance to qualify for the competition, and that the judging is unbiased.”

“I’m sure you’ve got your work cut out for you. Do you rely on Esther Ka`awai to help advise you?” Jake was curious about Alika’s grandmother and her involvement.

“Esther is a treasure, but she’s more for making sure the overall cultural integrity of the Festival is preserved, and that we observe Hawaiian best practices in how we put everything together.” Cruz’s arched brows drew together. “I think our main spend, other than the rental of the actual facility and staff, is on the media and PR for the event.”

Jake nodded. “Thanks. I just wanted to get your take on things. Please keep this probe confidential.”

She inclined her head. “Of course. I appreciate your keeping it confidential, as well. Last thing we need is negative talk in the community.”

Jake opened his door and got out. “I’m all for staying out of trouble!”

Cruz tilted her head with a smile. “You might be in the wrong business for that, Mr. Dunn. Good luck and good hunting.”

Mission accomplished so far, Jake headed for the Banyan Tree Motel, a run-down local establishment nestled in the curve of Hilo Bay where he and Sophie had been staying until they located something more permanent.

Sophie still insisted on separate rooms in spite of spending nights together, but he didn’t argue. The lady needed her psychological space, and it behooved him to give it to her.

Jake’s pulse picked up as he anticipated being alone with Sophie at the end of the day. She had sent him off with Kim to tour the stadium, telling him she had computer work to do and an appointment to go to outside the office.

That appointment had to be with Dr. Wilson, and he was glad she was going. Sophie wasn’t sleeping well in spite of the number of orgasms he made sure she achieved nightly. She’d drop off to sleep, but later spend hours tossing and turning, caught in dark dreams. Sometimes she woke with a cry, or lay still, weeping silently—and he could always tell when she did, though she tried to hide it from him.

And no matter how many times he asked what was bothering her, she wouldn’t tell him.

But Jake was no idiot.

Sophie was torturing herself over a recent attempt on her life and its aftermath. A small explosive device in a package rigged to blow had damaged her ribs and given her a concussion—but her former boyfriend Alika, who’d met Sophie in her father’s lobby and picked up the bomb, had been the one to take real damage. The real estate developer had lost his arm and been in ICU for the better part of a week. He was finally out of the hospital and had been transported back to his home on Kaua`i.

Jake had been monitoring the situation via Marcella, Sophie’s best friend, and it seemed like Alika was recovering as best as could be expected. Sophie had refused to see or communicate with the man, though, and Jake guessed that she was eaten up with guilt for indirectly causing Alika’s mutilation. It was as if, in cutting Alika off, she’d increased her attachment to him.

Jake scowled, navigating the busy downtown Hilo traffic. He’d thought he won the lottery the day Sophie asked him to be her lover. He’d been crazy for her—emotionally, physically, in every way possible. He’d been sure there was no wall she could put up against him that he couldn’t break down, at least physically.

---