The Spy Who Left Me (37 page)

“A text from HQ,” Greg said.

Naturally.

He read the text silently before turning the phone around and handing it over his seat for Ty to read. “Emmett says to send her in. Hal’s already accepted her invitation via an untraceable text. He’s shielded his cell phone so we can’t get a location on him.”

Treflee shot Ty a smug smile, only slightly uncomfortable to know that Emmett had been listening in.

Greg shifted the boat into gear. They jolted forward in full throttle, the noise of surf and engine drowning out any further objections from her husband.

*   *   *

The doc Greg took Ty to see wasn’t your normal hospital emergency room variety, but a top secret NCS field trauma specialist.

“The very best,” Greg said. “With all the leading-edge medical breakthroughs at his disposal.”

The doctor and his staff met them at sea in an unmarked white medical boat with a fully equipped surgery. Two medical corpsmen helped Ty onboard and carted him into the surgery. Another checked out Greg and pronounced him fit for duty. No lingering ill effects from being smashed on the head.

A few minutes later a corpsman returned with a set of clothes for Treflee. He escorted her to the head to change. She returned to the deck to find Greg making a phone call. He pointed to the phone and mouthed,
“Your cousin Carrie.”

“Yeah, they’ll be fine,” Greg said to Carrie. “They were coming back from a dip in the waterfall when they startled Zulu.

“Uh-huh, sure. Yeah, they have clothes.” Greg winked at Treflee in her spanking new shorts, top, and canvas deck shoes. “Yep, Ty took one to the back of the leg. I agree. Zu’s a coward to shoot someone in the back. Yeah, good thing he’s a bad shot. Sure, they looked happy.” Greg shrugged as he grinned at Treflee. “No, just a flesh wound. Yeah, yeah, you’re right, a flesh wound’s nothing.”

Treflee rolled her eyes. Carrie
would
agree with the boys.

“Take the van and meet us back at the ranch. We’ll catch a puddle-jumper back to Kahalui and rent something there. Sorry we’re not around to pack up for you. Yeah, you, too. Glad you’re not disappointed in your stay. Yeah, crime everywhere. What can you do? Drive safely. That’s a dangerous stretch of road.” He signed off, laughing.

Treflee plunked down across from him, the wind blowing in her face.

Greg leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “Ty’s going to be fine.”

She nodded and looked him in the eye. “Fill me in on the mission. How are we going to stop Hal?”

*   *   *

An hour later, the doctor pronounced Ty fit for duty. Two hours later, they arrived in Kahalui and stopped at McDonald’s for a fried Spam breakfast.

Treflee wrinkled her nose at it. “I hate Hawaiian food.”

Ty’s appetite seemed undimmed by his recent trauma. He ate his Spam with relish. “Shut up and eat your rice.”

“Whatever the doc did to you certainly restored your sunny nature,” she shot back. “I suppose he used some experimental new fast-acting healing agent? Cloned skin? Synthetic blood? You’re not going to turn into a monster now, are you?”

He lifted a brow. “You mean any more than I already am?”

Greg shook his head at the two of them. “Play nice, kiddies, and eat up. We have work to do. We have just one day to turn Treflee into one of us, a highly trained espionage professional.”

Ty frowned at Greg and turned to study Treflee. “Look at her! Bruises around her neck, scratches all over, bags under her eyes.” He looked away suddenly and shook his head. “She’s not going to entice Hal looking like that.”

Although accurate, Ty’s insult stung. Treflee lifted her chin. “Thanks so much for your vote of confidence. You’re no prize right now yourself, limping boy.”

Ty ignored her. “We don’t have time to fly Malene in from the mainland.”

Greg nodded his agreement.

“Malene?” Treflee cut in. “Who’s she?”

“The best cover life artist NCS has,” Ty said. “We’ll have to go with our local girl. Kiki isn’t going to be happy. She’s got her work cut out for her making Tref pretty.”

“Hey!” she said. “Slow down here. Cover life artist?”

Ty sighed and shook his head in that patronizing way he had when he was trying to annoy her. He lowered his voice. “You don’t think we pick out our disguises and wardrobes ourselves, do you? Do our own styling, set up our own cover homes? We have stylists and designers for that.”

“Like in the movies?” She was thinking Ty was so dead for living this glamorous life behind her back.

“Yeah, and they’re damn good at what they do,” Ty said.

She cocked a brow. “Malene’s responsible for the goatee and dyed hair?”

“Yeah,” Ty said.

Malene knows her stuff.

“I’ll give Kiki a buzz.” Greg aimed his phone at Treflee. “She’ll need a snapshot to work with and plenty of time to shop.”

Before Treflee could protest, Greg had snapped her photo and texted it off to the mysterious Kiki.

*   *   *

A four-foot-tall carved wooden tiki stood on the veranda of Big Auau to the right of the front door. Even though the doc had done a great job of patching him up, Ty favored the leg as he moved gingerly around the tiki, giving it wide berth.

“This is new.” Tref paused to inspect it.

Great, my wife chooses now to become observant.

“What a cute little potbellied guy!” She reached out to touch it.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Ty said, doing his best to sound ominous.

She froze. “Why not?”

He could play head games and spook her all day long. She deserved it. “That’s a fertility tiki.”

She turned to stare him in the eye. Then she very deliberately reached down and stroked the tiki’s tummy, baiting him. “Nice to meet you, little guy.”

Ty got a mental image of the previous night at the waterfall, wondering if Tref was still on her birth control. He’d been too caught up in the moment to even think about using a condom. If there was anything to that fertility tiki, he was going to be owing Tref child support.

He grabbed her arm and whispered very softly in her ear, “It’s probably bugged. Act normally. Don’t say anything we don’t want the enemy to hear.”

Behind him, Greg sniggered.

Ty turned on him.

Greg had a hand in his pocket.

“Call the exterminator,” Ty said.

“On it already.” Greg whipped out his cell phone.

Treflee shook Ty’s arm off and bounced into the plantation house.

Ty paused just outside the door, spy sense on high alert, filled with a sense of dread and foreboding.

Behind him, Greg slapped him on the back. “No use delaying the inevitable, dude.”

Greg was right. Ty reluctantly stepped inside. A vibrantly colored life-sized oil portrait of the beautiful, seductive Haumea hung over the entryway end table.

Tref was staring at her. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“She’s the goddess of fertility. I’m sensing a theme here.” He couldn’t help sighing as he took in the painting and the present-packed table below her. Tita used it as a gift table for weddings. It was large enough to hold gifts from over a hundred wedding guests. The way it was loaded with goods, it looked as if a wedding were already in full swing. “Behold the fallout from a full-scale gift war.”

Greg whistled. “Quite a haul. Wonder how much reciprocating set Tita back?”

Three monkeypod bowls carved in different shapes filled with different tropical and Chinese candies lined the table, along with two baskets of fresh fruit, a huge spray of protea, four tiki masks, and a large assortment of goods he was cut short of cataloging as Tita lumbered in.

“
Haole!
Greg! You’re back safely.” Tita pulled Ty into a hug.

“Aloha, wahine.”
He hugged her back. He released her so she could hug Greg and Tref.

“The girls told me what happened. Bad spirits in those men.” Tita clicked her tongue. “You saw the doctor? Let me see the leg.”

He modeled his bandage for her.

Tita studied it closely. “Not a bad job. I’ll make you some herbal tea and sweeten it with sugar cane. Nothing heals like a little sugar cane.” She nodded and studied him some more. “Do I need to perform
hooponopono,
the healing ritual, on you?”

“I thought that was the
kahuna’
s job,
wahine
,” Ty teased her.

She laughed. “I
am
the big
kahuna, haole.
”

“And I’m fine. Modern medicine should be good enough this time.” Ty spread his arm toward the table. “Is everything in balance now? Has harmony been restored? In other words, have you given up on this gift war?” He shook his head and gave her a quick one-armed hug and release.

Tita stiffened, looking suddenly apprehensive as her gaze bounced between Tref, Greg, and him.

“Almost. Just one more obligation and I call it quits.” Tita clasped her hands in front of her and looked at them optimistically.

“Uh-oh,” Greg said. “I know that look.”

“What have you done, Tita?” Ty said.

Tita giggled nervously. “Mrs. Ho has invited us all to the big Chinese multiwedding on Saturday. She says it’s a very big deal for her, a big promotional thing with much potential for new business from China. She insists we all come as her honored guests.”

Ty got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Beside him, Tref started to tremble. No doubt she’d just gotten the same feeling, and maybe her phobia of Chinese people was resurfacing.

Tita smiled at her and reached out to pat her arm. “You’ve been through so much, poor thing. Have a piece of candy. Sugar is good for the nerves.” She grabbed a monkeypod bowl from the table and held it out to Tref.

Tref grabbed a piece of wrapped corn hard candy.

“I wouldn’t eat that one if I were you,” Ty told her. He shouldn’t have used that ominous tone on her again, as if the candy were poison. Cry wolf one too many times. “You won’t like the taste.”

She relaxed and shrugged. “What do you mean? I love candy corn. One of my faves.”

She was angry at him. So she did what she always did when she wanted to get back at him. She ignored his warning with a defiant look.
Her loss
.

She unwrapped the candy and popped it in her mouth. Almost immediately, she spat it back out into the wrapper and made a face. “It tastes like buttered corn.”

He shook his head at her and shrugged, resisting the urge to say
“I told you so.”

Treflee glanced at Tita and blushed, as if she just remembered Tita was standing there. “I’ll save this for later.” She shot Ty a look with almost enough spite to kill.

What have I done to deserve that?

Ty addressed Tita. “What do you mean by Mrs. Ho wants ‘us all’ at the wedding? That can’t include the hired hands.”

Tita grinned at him. “Sorry,
haole.
I’ve already RSVPed for you and Greg, and all of my guests, including Treflee.”

“Carrie agreed to go?” Treflee looked pained on her cousin’s behalf. “Saturday was supposed to be
her
wedding day. I thought the plan was to tour the pineapple plantation and get bombed on piña coladas afterward.”

“Change of plans.” Tita nonchalantly set the monkeypod bowl back on the table. “I gave Carrie a discount on her stay and told her about the open bar and the free
jiu,
Chinese cocktails. Mrs. Ho is never stingy with the
jiu.
”

“Oh, boy,” Treflee whispered with a degree of enthusiasm close to dread.

Ty exchanged a look with Greg. Why did Mrs. Ho want everyone at the wedding? To keep an eye on them? Or to take them out?

Stir a drunken, depressed should-have-been-a-bride lady cop and four of her friends into the mix and the odds of the operation going smoothly just dropped by half.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Treflee lay in her fluffy Big Auau bed with the covers pulled up to her nose, the windows and doors locked, and the fan on high, purely for its noise. If a Chinese assassin was hell-bent on breaking in and slitting her throat in the middle of the night, she didn’t want to hear it. Better for him not to interrupt her rest and simply kill her as she slept. After all, dying in your sleep was the way everyone wanted to go.

What a hellacious twenty-four hours she’d had. Too stoked, too scared, and too torn up about Ty to sleep, she lay there with thoughts of her upcoming mission dancing through her head.

This was the spying life Ty loved. Even with her lifelong love for the quiet life, she was forced to admit the adrenaline rush of spying had its appeal. So did being a part of something bigger than herself. And getting revenge on the bad guys. Definitely getting revenge on the bad guys.