Jake turned the wheel, heading down into the park. The narrow, two-lane road wove along the side of a canyon draped in varying shades of vegetation. He unclenched his hands on the wheel—they’d begun to cramp.

That was his big move? Grabbing her leg and pretending they were “a thing” in front of those detectives?

Smooth one, Jake. Nice. She was really impressed by your promise to “make it good.”

Jake sneaked a look at Sophie. Her face was turned away as she looked out the window and her eyes were shut, but blotchy color showed on the golden skin of her neck.

She was blushing.

He’d gotten to her.

Yeah! His opening move had sucked, but she was thinking about what he’d said.

It was a start. He could work with it. The key to success was exploiting every angle toward an objective. And his objective had just shown a chink in her defenses.

They reached the bottom of the canyon and a small parking lot beneath the high, graceful arch of a freeway overpass. That bridge spanned both the canyon and a small river that tumbled over rocks and between banks of tall native grass.

Jake pulled the Jeep into a parking spot and they sat for a moment, surveying the park.

A camping area toward where the riverbank met the ocean was clearly marked. Off to the right, tucked up against the steep wall of the canyon, hunkered a cement block bathroom. A brisk wind blew in from the sea, smelling of the ocean. Jake’s nostrils flared instinctively, taking in the salty goodness.

Sophie gestured toward a small group of tents clustered in the designated camping zone. “We should begin by canvassing there. You have a photo of our client?”

“Sure do.” Jake took out his phone and texted a photo of their client to Sophie.

Julie Weathersby was five foot six, one hundred and thirty pounds, with light brown hair and blue eyes. She had freckles on her nose and a hopeful smile with the perfect teeth of good orthodontia. In the photo, she wore hiking clothes and carried the backpack she’d disappeared with.

“She looks so young.” Sophie said.

“She’s twenty-four.”

“That’s how old I was when I escaped from Assan.” Sophie’s lips folded tight. “I didn’t feel young.”

She so seldom said anything about her fucked-up marriage. “That bastard stole your . . . your youth and innocence.” Jake growled. “May he rot in hell.”

“It’s some comfort that I sent him there.” Sophie opened the door of the Jeep and got out. Yeah, she’d sent him there, all right—Sophie had slit the man’s throat. Not that he didn’t deserve that, and more. Jake would’ve liked a little time to work on Assan Ang with a knife, himself.

They left Ginger secured in the vehicle with some water and a dog biscuit.

The two approached the first tent. A young mother sat on a beach towel near its entrance, playing with a baby wearing a puka shell necklace and a diaper. Sophie squatted to smile at the child, who reached out a hand, grasping her finger. “She’s darling.”

“Thank you. We think so,” the mom said.

Sophie was such a softie when it came to kids. Every case they’d worked so far, she seemed to get attached to any children involved. He’d never forget climbing over that fence at a cult’s headquarters in Waipio, carrying a couple of terrified children, with dogs and armed men on their trail.

Sophie chatted up the mother as Jake surveilled the camp. A young man strolled towards them, wearing a pair of board shorts and a battered tee. He carried a fishing pole and a stringer.

“Good fishing?” Jake loved fishing on any days he had off. Spin casting, stream fishing, reef walking, deep-sea—it didn’t matter, as long as he was near the water.

“Got a few papio for dinner.” Jake recognized the Hawaiian word for a small jack as the young man held up his catch. “What can we do for you, Detective?”

Jake laughed. “I’m not a cop. But Ms. Ang and I are private investigators.” He held up his Security Solutions ID, and Sophie showed hers as well. “We’re looking for a young woman who camped here around a week ago.” He held up his phone so they could see the photo of Julie Weathersby.

The young woman shook her head. “We’ve only been here a week. But I think the couple down by the creek has been here long enough to have seen her.”

Taking their leave, Jake and Sophie walked toward a battered tent set close to the water, away from the rest. Disorderly bins of personal clothing and objects were piled nearby. The door was zippered shut.

Jake flicked a finger at Sophie, cueing her to speak first. Women elicited less caution in an initial encounter. Sophie approached the tent. “Hello? Anyone inside? We need to speak with you.”

Rustling. Muttering. These people did not appear to be as friendly as the small family they’d first spoken to. Jake stepped aside out of view, his hand falling to the holstered weapon at his hip. Finally, the zipper moved upward slowly. A young woman poked her head out. Her blonde hair was snarled, falling over sunken eyes. He spotted a scabby sore on the back of her hand. “What do you want?”

Dark shadows moved behind her.

Sophie held up her phone for the young woman to see. “We’re looking for our friend Julie. She seems to have gone missing. Have you seen her?” The woman reached for the phone, but Sophie moved it up and away so that the photo was more visible. “Julie Weathersby. She would have been here a little more than a week ago. Traveling on her own. We were supposed to meet her at Volcanoes Park, but she never showed up.”

A flicker of something showed on the woman’s face, but she shook her head. “No. Haven’t seen her.”

“I’m Sophie. What’s your name?” Sophie was still trying to get a connection that Jake had already decided wasn’t going to happen. The woman didn’t answer. Sophie showed the phone again. “Maybe your friend has seen her?”

A rough masculine voice rumbled from behind the woman. “She told you we haven’t seen her. Buzz off.”

Sophie glanced at Jake. He gave a quick negative shake of the head. Maybe they could find out something more about these campers from the other park dwellers, or from sending a ranger to check the couple’s permits. He glanced at the tent pole. No permit.

Jake took his phone out, stepping away to call the park service.

They worked their way through the rest of the campsites, letting Sophie be the face of the operation while Jake kept an eye out and provided backup.

Sophie was letting Ginger stretch her legs by the river when a Hawaii State Park truck rumbled down the road to pull in beside the Jeep. Jake intercepted the green and white vehicle with its distinct logo.

“Hey there. I’m Jake Dunn, a private investigator with Security Solutions.” He held up his ID. “We’re looking for a missing person, and in the course of interviewing these campers, came across what might be some permit violations.”

The ranger slammed the door of his truck with a thump. “Oh yeah?” A mixed-race male of five-ten, approximately a hundred and seventy pounds, his ID badge read Hernandez. “Getting me out here to do your investigation for you, eh?”

Jake raised his brows innocently. “Just thought you’d want to know. There’s a couple over there that looks like they’re making this park their permanent home.” He gestured toward the riverside campsite with its assorted piles and bins. “Would you mind taking a look at a photo of our missing person? Maybe you’ve seen her.”

“Sure.” Hernandez squinted at the picture of the smiling young woman as Sophie put Ginger back in the Jeep and approached. She introduced herself, and Jake narrowed his eyes as Hernandez checked her out and clearly liked what he saw.

Jake glanced at Sophie, remembering meeting her for the first time.

Yeah, Sophie was hot—five-nine and one thirty-five, all muscle, bone and tender curves. That caramel skin, those gorgeous arms and legs with their secret tattoos . . . Her eyes. That sexy scar. The weird way she seemed both badass and vulnerable. And her voice! That accent. It slayed him.

Even in a pair of hiking pants and a tank top that had seen better days, she was unusual and stunning.

Would this be his life with her if they ever got together? Every man they met checking her out, wishing for the impossible?

If so, worth it. He could deal.

Jake reached for the phone and took it back from the ranger. “So, you haven’t seen Julie Weathersby? Not just here, but at any park? We heard from her parents that she was camping on the Big Island for a week or two before she disappeared.”

Hernandez shook his head. “Nope. We’ve had a lot of missing persons on the Big Island this year. Doesn’t surprise me some folks are hiring private eyes to supplement the police. Police department is pretty overwhelmed. Park Service is stretched thin.” The man folded his lips together suddenly, as if regretting saying so much. He brandished a metal clipboard holding citations. “Could you stay back here and let me do my job?”

“Of course.” Jake nodded respectfully. He needed this guy on his side. Hernandez headed for the hostile couple’s campsite, and Jake’s hand fell to his weapon, just resting there. Waiting.