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Chapter Seven
Nadia
Cypher caught the next flight out. He was heading to Honolulu, which wasn't quite what I'd expected--or hoped--but that wasn't up for discussion. He would stay out of our way, but he wanted to be there. I supposed it didn't hurt to have an extra pro on hand, though I suspected I'd come to regret that.
Our guests were all weekenders, meaning they'd be checked out by noon tomorrow. They had the option of using the property until the end of the day, but with no Sunday night guests, there were no scheduled afternoon or evening events. That meant I could take off after breakfast, leaving Emma to handle checkouts.
Jack and I were on a plane Sunday afternoon. We hopped from Toronto to Vancouver and then down to Hawaii. Two long hauls, but as Cypher promised, we went first class, which helped, considering that one of us was flight-phobic. Jack could manage--flying was unavoidable for overseas jobs--but if he could drive, he did.
The time difference meant it wasn't even nine p.m. when we touched down. We'd both managed to get some shut-eye on the flight, so we were wide awake when Cypher met us at the airport.
My first impression of Honolulu was lights. Endless lights stretching up the volcanic mountain range. That wasn't quite what I expected. Every image I'd seen of the islands featured sand, surf, sun and the kind of empty paradise that I suspected was tough to find these days. The weather was gorgeous, even after dark, and I marveled at the partly open-air terminal until I realized that they didn't need to worry about winter cold, let alone snow and ice.
I put my window down as Cypher drove, and if I squinted, I could make out the ocean to my right. Soon Cypher left the highway and headed up a winding road.
"Angela lives out here?" Jack said.
"Yeah," Cypher grumbled.
I could see their concern. When I twisted to look down the mountain behind us, the view was incredible, but this wasn't some condo apartment in the city. That made it easier for a killer to get access to her. The neighborhood was residential enough, though--a proper subdivision.
"I'll drive past her house," Cypher said. "Cops are out front in a unmarked black Jeep. Dee? Keep your window down."
I didn't ask why. The police would be on the lookout for unfamiliar vehicles. One with a woman in the passenger seat--her window down and arm out--would seem a lot more innocent than an SUV with rolled-up tinted windows.
"On your side," Cypher said. "The little gray house."
The speed limit was low enough for him to roll past slowly. I snapped shots with my camera held low. The officers in the Jeep glanced over. Cypress had his window down, too, and he lifted his fing
ers in casual greeting. The officers nodded, and we continued along the road.
"We should do it at night," Cypher said. "But those cops mean it'd be tricky. Daytime's always tricky, though."
"For what?" I said.
"Taking Angela."
"What?"
He spoke slower. "Taking Angela into protective custody while you guys find the asshole who's trying to kill her."
"I think the word you actually want there is kidnapping, Cypher," I said. "And the answer is: hell, no."
"Ty."
"What?"
Again, that slowed speech. "Call me Ty."
"How about I just call you crazy motherfucker? Does that work?"
Jack snorted from the back seat.
Cypher chuckled. "Sure. Wouldn't be the first time. Or the second. Or the--"
"We are not kidnapping Angela. That wasn't part of the deal."
"Because I figured it was obvious. How else are you going to keep her safe? We'll take her into protective custody for a few days. She won't be happy about it, but she'll be safe, and we'll make sure she's comfortable and--"
