Page 55 of Wired Ghost

Maybe it was Sophie who had changed.

Maybe it was she whose heart could finally receive what little the flawed, twisted person who had given birth to her was able to give.

But Sophie didn’t turn her head to watch them go. She watched the view, instead. A white tern spun like a snowflake through the currents of wind far below, as the helicopter’s engine roared. She shut her eyes and let the prop wash blow over her as it flew away.

Connor joined her on the bench.

Sophie turned tear-swollen eyes to glare at her dearest friend, her staunchest supporter, a man she would have sworn would give his life for her. “How could you?”

“I obey the Master.” Connor shook his head. “He’s impossible to resist. You know that. And he really seems to love your mother.”

Sophie looked out at the ocean. “Are you staying?”

“He’s given me leave to be with you as long as you’re here.”

She met Connor’s sea-blue gaze. “I can’t trust you anymore. You know that, don’t you?”

“I should have asked if it was okay to bring them, but I knew what you’d say, and I was afraid you would leave. The Master insisted Pim Wat have a chance to speak to you.” Connor gazed down at his hands, brown and calloused from weapons practice. “I’m sorry.”

“I guess I must keep practicing forgiveness.” Sophie sighed. “I’ve decided bitterness and anger are luxuries I can’t afford. Momi will be so excited to see you. Let’s go take her to the beach.”

And so they did.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Raveaux

Two weeks into Sophie’s stay on Phi Ni

Raveaux slidinto the leather booth of the refined restaurant in downtown Honolulu’s exclusive civic club. Ambassador Smithson was already seated. Even wearing casual golf clothes, Sophie’s father had a distinguished appearance. White wings marked his close-cropped black hair, and when he turned, Raveaux recognized the profile he shared with Sophie. “Thank you for meeting me so soon after my return from Washington.”

“Of course. You made sure I would.” Raveaux smiled to take any sting from his words. He slid the one thousand dollar note that had wrapped the stick drive across the table to the ambassador. “While I appreciate seeing this unusual vintage bill, I won’t accept anything for helping your daughter.”

Smithson’s dark brown eyes were thoughtful and assessing, another expression Raveaux recognized from Sophie’s face, as he removed the money from the table and slid it into his pocket. “Good to know.”

Raveaux looked around the place, taking in the dim chandeliers, the heavy koa tables, the padded leather booths built for privacy and confidential conversations. “I take it you come here often. A very exclusive club.”

“Old guys like me like to have our little comfort zones.”

The waitress arrived with large menus mounted on wooden boards, and a pot of tea already made for the ambassador. Raveaux ordered an espresso, and then considered the menu. “What’s good? If Sophie were here, she would warn you that I’m a bit of a food snob.”

Smithson smiled. “I could tell by looking at you.”

Raveaux glanced down at his tailored silk shirt, tie, and dress slacks over casual Italian loafers. “It’s not every day that you get to meet with a U.S. ambassador at his club.”

“But still. It’s nice to see a man who dresses well here in Hawaii, Monsieur Raveaux.” The ambassador sipped his tea. “Or may I call you Pierre?”

“Pierre is fine. We are of an age.”

“Hardly. You’re a youngster compared to me—but do call me Frank.”

The ambassador poured more tea. All of his motions reminded Raveaux of Sophie. What had her mother been like? She must have been lovely, but all he knew about Pim Wat was that she’d been a Thai aristocrat. The shape of Sophie’s head might have been her father’s, but her features had come from a beautiful woman.

“Tell me about yourself, Pierre.” The ambassador fiddled with his teaspoon.

“I won’t insult you, Frank, by refusing to answer. But after reading the file you gave me, I’m not naïve enough to think you haven’t checked me out thoroughly, already.”

Smithson chuckled. “I read a report on you, yes, but I always like to hear what a person has to say about himself.”

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