Page 53 of Wired Ghost

Sophie snapped the coverlet up and down, hiding intermittently, as Momi shrieked and giggled with delight at her favorite game.

Armita appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face. Sophie’s favorite childhood nanny provided the consistency that Momi needed in moving between two different households on a monthly basis. “Little Bean, your breakfast is ready. Time to come with Auntie Armita.”

“No!” Momi said.

“Would you like eggs, or fruit?” Armita advanced calmly, and plucked Momi out of the bedclothes. Momi kicked her plump legs and shrieked “No!” but Armita continued on down the hall with the toddler tucked under her arm.

Sophie was left in blessed peace. She collapsed back onto the bed and picked up her phone on the side table. She set an alarm for five minutes.

Five minutes a day was all the time she gave herself to grieve for Jake.

To cry for how much she had loved him, and he her.

To weep over how much time they had lost to pride and stubbornness.

To wail for the future they would never have together.

Sophie let go of all of the emotions she’d held locked down. She buried her face in her pillow and howled, beating it with her fists. She choked with sobs, blew her nose on a fistful of tissues, and cried some more, until her throat was raw and her eyes puffed up into slits.

Thank God for Armita.She and the nanny had discussed how to handle things going forward; Armita had suggested that five minutes of unrestrained crying would help Sophie get through the days without being derailed too often.

When the phone alarm went off, Sophie hit the button, got up, made her bed, and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She cried a little more under the fall of water, but it was okay because her tears washed away as soon as they fell.

Sophie was dressed and heading for the dining room where Connor’s houseman Nam served them breakfast, when she heard the thrum of a helicopter approaching.

“Connor!” Her numb heart gave its first bump of excitement since Jake’s death. She hurried down the hallway. One wall was made of glass panels that looked out at a courtyard with a statue of Kuan Yin, a fountain, and exotic flowers and plants. The flagstone floor was cool on Sophie’s bare feet as she opened one side of the large double doors in front, and stepped out onto the top step with its exotic bronze dragons flanking massive teak doors.

The chopper settled gently onto the helipad directly in front of the barn that doubled as a garage and storage area. Sophie held up a hand to shield her eyes from the strong breeze generated by the rotors, and her lightweight dress plastered back against her body.

The rotors slowed, the door slid back, and Connor jumped out and walked toward her. His blond hair and aqua eyes contrasted with a tan that spoke of hours of drilling practice in the hot Thai sun. He did not smile, and neither did Sophie, as she descended the steps to meet him.

Connor’s arms encircled her in a powerful hug. One of his hands caressed the back of her head, encouraging her to lay its weight on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. Jake was a good man. The best.”

Sophie nodded, shutting her eyes against the sting of quick tears. “That he was.”

The other door of the chopper slid open and banged shut, but she didn’t raise her head. She clung to Connor, drawing strength from the man who had been both lover and friend.

“I’m sorry. I had to bring them. I hope you will forgive me,” Connor whispered in her ear. “Keep an open mind. This could be a good thing.”

Sophie stiffened and pulled back.

Standing behind Connor, compellingly handsome in his whitegi, stood the Master. Beside him, dwarfed by his height, was Sophie’s tiny, deadly mother, Pim Wat.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Sophie

Pim Wat’sarms and legs reminded Sophie of those of a starving child. Her once-beautiful face, a face that had opened doors worldwide to do her deadly work as an assassin, was distorted: one cheekbone was higher than the other, and one eye was half-hidden by a droopy lid. Her long, black, silky hair, once her pride and joy, had gone completely white. Shorn tufts surrounded her skull like dandelion fluff.

Sophie switched her gaze to the Master. The leader of Thailand’s clandestine national security organization had not changed a bit. Tall for a Thai man, he stood straight as bamboo in a snowy white martial arts outfit, his deep purple eyes a dark mystery in his amber-skinned face.

“What do you want?” Sophie saw no point in social niceties.

Pim Wat stepped forward. “I forgive you. And I want you to forgive me. I want peace between us.”

“I don’t care what you want.” Anger was armor. Releasing its hot power felt good, energizing.Anything to break the numbness.

The Master turned to Pim Wat. “You asked for this meeting, Beautiful One. Now you have it. Number One will show me his house while you speak to your daughter.” The man walked toward the mansion with unhurried grace as Connor strode to catch up.

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