Sophie plugged the external drive Pim Wat had given her into one of the computers Connor had had set up in the newly created “lab” room of their Security Solutions office. That the drive wasn’t password protected spoke either to Pim Wat’s ability to guard it, or to the Yām Khûmkạn’s incompetence.

The information was simple: a couple of cloud storage sites on the dark net, one Tor website, and contact information for the agency’s current tech. Sophie reached out to the tech contact, Leni Keng, on encrypted email, then opened up the website.

There was nothing to the site but a black background and the agency’s name in Thai. Sophie had not uncovered it during her previous searches for the clandestine organization. When she clicked into the entry portal, it consisted of a downloadable PDF that was to be completed and mailed to an anonymous drop address listed on the form. The page was a recruitment portal for the Yām Khûmkạn.

Who received those recruitment applications and screened them? Was it this Keng character? Checking the information requested on the form certainly needed to be done, at least in part, online.

She needed to get on the same page with whoever was the Yām Khûmkạn’s system admin. It was clear that the agency was trying to stay completely offline, but that was nearly impossible in this day and age. Sophie sent another encrypted email to Keng.

She then searched Interpol for anything to do with the organization. She’d heard from Pim Wat that Yām Khûmkạn agents’ names were being released to the international police agency—but the Interpol site yielded nothing she could associate with the clandestine group without the operatives’ names, and that information had not been provided on the data drive.

Sophie opened the cloud storage and found nothing but supply lists that appeared to be associated with the training temple. The whole mission and what Pim Wat wanted from Sophie were still hard to discern, and so far, none of the information had shed any further light.

Essentially, the stick drive contained nothing of any real value.

Sophie sat back in her chair. What was Pim Wat’s real game? Was this a test of some kind?

She leaned forward and activated DAVID to search for more intel on the Yām Khûmkạn. She had done this before, but perhaps something new had shaken loose. She could also use DAVID to develop confidence ratios regarding related patterns of crime, but there was nothing to compare at the moment.

The Data Assessment Victim Information Database, Sophie’s rogue information gathering program, sifted for intel based on keywords. She inputted several obvious ones and set it to combing the Internet for information on Keng and Pim Wat, as well. Information was power, and she just didn’t have enough to even navigate.

Until Sophie heard back from Keng, there was little she could do. It was time to go “home” to her new apartment and move in. Jake had texted her that he was already there, unloading and setting up the basics he’d purchased with the stipend Connor had issued them.

Sophie pulled up at the apartment building, scanning the nondescript parking lot with its coral stone wall buried in vines, a lone plumeria tree struggling for sunlight in the shade of a banyan overshadowing it. Three stories of industrial beige concrete block with exterior stairs and walkways, the edifice didn’t send an affluent message—but Sophie liked the open lawn fronting the building and the ocean view facing Hilo Bay.

She texted Jake that she’d arrived as she took the stairs, supporting her sore ribs with a hand, and smiled to see Ginger and Tank galloping toward her down the open walkway. “Loosed the hounds, I see,” she said, as Jake approached.

“They’ve been cooped up all day, and we need to put together the furniture I bought. Brought in all the stuff with the super’s help.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Purchasing and hauling the furniture for two apartments up several flights of steps seemed to have wilted Jake’s usual insouciance; he looked tired, his eyes iron-gray, his mouth a stern line. Sophie patted the dog’s heads, and with one on either side of her, followed him to the doorway of her new apartment. “This is quite a project.”

“Not that bad. I’m almost done here, then I’ll go work on my place.” Jake had purchased a metal-framed futon that made into a queen size bed, a desk and office chair, some bags containing bedding, and appliances still in their boxes in the kitchen. The metal parts of the futon were spread out on the carpet carefully, along with a battery-powered screwdriver. Jake knelt, picked up the schematic, and continued with his assembly.

Sophie shooed the dogs away from his carefully laid out diagram and walked across the living room area to the sliding glass door. Out on the deck, she leaned her arms on the railing and took a few deep breaths of the salty air wafting off of Hilo Bay. Late afternoon sun gilded the ripples on the ocean’s surface with a shine like fool’s gold. “I like this place much better by day. Being able to see the ocean is lovely.”

Jake grunted, and she turned to peer at him. Focused on his project, his big shoulders bunched as he secured a rod to a section of curved metal piping. Jake seemed completely absorbed.

Sophie went on. “I think I might like the bed, since it doubles as a couch, left out here in the living room so I can look out the window at the ocean during the night.”

“I thought you wanted the extra room.” The drill whirred. “And liked your blackout drapes.”

“I want to try something different.” And maybe she would need the extra room—for the baby.

Sophie’s stomach roiled at the thought, but she breathed through it. Psychosomatic, that’s what this was. Just thinking about being pregnant was making her have all the symptoms.

Sophie walked into the kitchen and began unboxing an electric teakettle, noticing the already assembled desk and office chair in the bedroom. She could work in there with her laptop. Perfect for now. “Is the internet hooked up yet?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, good. Thank you.” Sophie unpacked the basic kitchen supplies and stowed them in Formica cupboards, feeling a pang of regret for the soulful treehouse she’d lived in so briefly. This conventional apartment was a big change from that—but still an upgrade from the motel they’d been in for the last weeks.

Jake was soon done with the assembly and they moved the futon couch/bed to where Sophie wanted it, close to the sliders so she could look out at night.

“I’ve got to get my place set up.” Jake headed for the door, all business.

“All right.” Sophie watched him go, frowning. Did he want to spend the night together? Eat dinner together? He’d made no mention of it, and her stomach growled.

She usually let Jake decide what they were eating and where, but it would be a relief to be able to fix some food that wasn’t from a restaurant. Jake deserved a meal after all his hard work.

Sophie made up the futon bed. The dogs had fallen asleep in the bedroom, snuggled up together, so she left them there and went back to the motel, packed her things and checked out, and drove to the market. She bought tea, vegetables, meat, rice, yogurt, eggs, and other basics. She paused as she was putting a six-pack of beer in her cart—and then took it back out.

No more drinking until she knew one way or the other about being pregnant. She had to get that test out of the way!

Back at the apartment, Sophie unpacked the groceries and laid out the ingredients for a vegetable and beef stir-fry. She loaded brown rice in the brand-new cooker Jake had bought—so thoughtful. He’d noticed that rice was a staple of her diet.

Jake would be a good father. Sophie felt sure of that.

But would Sophie be a good mother? With her depression? With her history of abuse? With the way her mother was? And what about the things the baby might have been exposed to already, given her crazy lifestyle?

Questions burst across her brain as her hands moved, seemingly disconnected from her body, measuring the rice, adding water, closing the lid, plugging in the machine.

Sophie removed the pregnancy test box from her backpack and stood staring at it. If only Marcella were here to support her through this moment…and what would Sophie do if she were pregnant? It would change everything.

Her pulse sounded like surf in her ears. She felt dizzy.

The door opened. “Sophie? You’re back…” Jake’s words died as his gaze fell on the small white box in her hands. “What’s that?”

“A pregnancy test.” Her voice sounded completely calm and normal even as her vision got spotty. She forced herself to breathe. “I’m late on my period.”

His eyes widened. “Are you…”

“I don’t know. That’s why I have to take this.” A bubble of hysterical mirth emerged in a squeaky giggle. “I’m so scared.”

“Oh, Sophie.” Two strides, and Jake had her in his arms—that warm, solid place where she could lay down her burdens. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t.” She shook her head, rubbing her face back and forth against his shirt front, snuggling into him deeply. He’d showered and changed; he smelled of lemony aftershave and clean male. “I’m not ready to know yet, myself. But then I went to buy beer, and I decided I have to know.”

“Beer as decider. I totally get it.”

She snorted a laugh into his shirt. “Okay. I’m glad you’re here for this.” She detached herself. “The moment of truth.”

He held her by her arms. “Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you.”

“Even if you’re not the father?” Sophie clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that!

Jake’s face went pale. The light died in his eyes, leaving them the color of ash, and his features seemed to sharpen. He let go of her and stepped back.

“Who else did you sleep with? Alika?”

“Yes.” Just a whisper, a trickle of sound. “It happened before we were exclusive. The night Alika and I were shot at, and I hid in his hotel room.” Memories flooded her. “We didn’t use protection.”

“And we have been using protection, so there’s a good chance it’s his.” Jake’s expression had changed again. She was now looking at his combat face: remote, focused, his eyes steely, giving nothing away. The face of a Special Forces killer.

Sophie heard herself babbling. “But condoms. You know they don’t always work…and we haven’t been careful, either. I assumed I was barren, because Assan never got me pregnant in spite of years of trying. It never crossed my mind this could actually happen. I know it was stupid…” Sophie could feel Jake shutting down even as she gazed into his eyes, and it stole her breath. She’d always known he’d take involvement with Alika as a betrayal.

“Maybe this is just a scare,” Jake said. “Maybe you are barren.”

“Maybe I am.” Barren. The word shouldn’t hurt, but it did, and always had. Where was the softness she’d come to expect when Jake looked at her?

“Well, go find out.” He turned Sophie and gave her a little push toward the bathroom door. “We need to know.”

Sophie stumbled inside, swallowing sobs she didn’t want to let out in front of him.