The serving window and the last few people getting the scrapings from the giant pots were to his left. At the far left corner was a hall, which the desk guy had told him was where the bathrooms and an exit were located. He scanned every face as he passed, but the noise level in the room was decreasing as people took in the two suited agents clearly searching for someone. They stuck out here, just like they did in most of Hawaii. But these people were in a bad season, out of work, or homeless. Many were veterans, if the jackets and patches and tattoos were anything to go by.

  If Brian Wells had been eating earlier, he might’ve finished and left—or gone upstairs to a room where he would spend the night. They were likely going to have to search the whole building, which, with no additional manpower to help, was going to take a while. And it would give Wells plenty of opportunity to give them the slip.

  A burly man at Locke’s ten o’clock one row over threw down his spoon and stood. He wiped his hands on a napkin and then tossed it onto his tray.

  Before the man could make a move, Locke lifted one hand and strode down the aisle past the guy. “I’m not here for you. I don’t want any trouble, I’m just looking for someone.” He surveyed the ends of the rows of diners. No one moved. No one spoke except a couple of kids in the corner wrestling.

  “I don’t see him.” Alana’s voice was softer and had that same lilt the locals spoke with. She probably didn’t hear it, and likewise didn’t know it served to soften the room to the two outsiders. Hawaiians had a slang word for mainlanders, but Locke didn’t remember it until someone muttered it under their breath.

  “I don’t see him, either.” Locke scanned the room one more time.

  A door swished, and a man emerged at the end of the hall. Damp hands. Brian Wells had been in the bathroom.

  He took in the two agents in suits and froze for a second.

  “We just want to talk.”

  Brian swung around and dashed down the hallway. Locke tore after him and reached the mouth of the hall with Alana on his heels. Brian hit the bar on the door at the far end and raced out the fire exit.

  The back alley smelled like the trash that overflowed from a Dumpster pushed against one side of the stucco building. Locke could feel the sweat accumulate as he ran after the former sniper. But they were catching up to the older man with the noticeable limp. The street at the end of the alley was busy, two lanes in both directions and a steady stream of buses and cars that made up the evening rush hour. Brian turned the corner.

  A couple of teens stepped off the curb and crossed in front of the alley.

  Locke skidded around the corner and sidestepped a stroller pushed by a mom in workout gear. “Sorry.”

  He ran on, but the crowd of people on the sidewalk was significant. When he hit the next intersection, he stopped and scanned in every direction as he puffed out each breath. “We lost him.”

  Alana stopped beside him. “Gone?”

  He nodded.

  She shook her head and blew out her own fast breaths. “I can’t believe he was right there. That was unreal.”

  “But Wells slipped through our fingers, and we lost the chance to find out what he’s tied up in.”

  There were still leads to be found here, though. The people Brian Wells had been living and eating with had to know something about him. No one lived in a vacuum, or at least very few people were able to sustain it. There had to be someone back at the shelter who knew where he’d been going or who he associated with.

  Alana brushed away unruly hair that had escaped her ponytail and set her hands on her hips. “Let’s go back and talk to the guy on the desk.”

  Locke nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  They circled the building instead of going back through the dining room and disturbing all the people in there again. Locke held the door for Alana, and they strode to the man with the name tag that said Wolf. His desk was surrounded by a crowd of people complaining about the “suits.”

  Wolf yelled over their talking. “Enough!” He motioned to Locke and Alana with his chin and everyone skedaddled. “Right. Suppose you want to know what I know?”

  Locke nearly smiled. Apparently Wolf knew the drill, which made him wonder what interaction he’d had with the law before. “That would be nice.”

  The man sniffed. “Wells has been here about four days, but he does that every few months. Sleeps. Eats. Rest of the time he’s gone. Don’t know where, never seen him talk to anyone.”

  “Anything else?”

  He stared at Locke, as though it was an expedient method of assessing the character of a man. “Fine. There was this one guy.” Wolf looked aside. “It was a few weeks, maybe two months ago. Dressed like you two.”

  “Alone?”

  The man nodded. “Looking for Brian, just like you.”

  Locke felt Alana move closer to him to hear the man’s quietly spoken words. Locke said, “He asked for Brian?”

  “Had one of the guys get Brian from the bunk room. Saw him speak to the guy.”

  “Do you have surveillance?” Alana’s question was hopeful. When the man shook his head, she got out her phone and pulled up the BOLO information. She showed him a picture of Daniel Kaiko. “This him?”

  “No, because that guy’s local. And yakuza aren’t welcome here.” The man frowned. “Besides, the guy was a mainlander.”

  “You’re sure?” Locke said. He showed Wolf a picture of Zane Franks.

  “Nope. Not him either.”

  Alana shot Locke a side glance at the same time Wolf continued, “Suit, but he looked comfortable in it. I asked Brian what it was about. He said the guy offered him a job. Never said if he took it, though. But it looked like they made plans to meet up later. He took the man’s card.”

  If they could get ahold of that card, say, from Brian Wells’s belongings, they could see who it was. Would the instigator of a plot to put the president in danger really give out his business card? Not likely, but it was a possible lead.

  “Any way we can see his belongings? He might’ve left that card behind.”

  “No way. I don’t run that kind of business here. You might be cops or whatnot, but people have a right to privacy.”

  Locke shot the man a look that told him everything he was feeling about Wolf hindering their investigation. “A description then, at least?”

  The man nodded and gave them some basic info that Alana jotted down. Blond, graying hair. Suit, but it became clear Wolf didn’t know the difference between tailored and off-the-rack. The man could have been a Secret Service agent just as he could have been anyone off the street with one nice outfit. They would probably never know who had pulled Brian Wells into this.

  Alana shot Wolf a smile. “Thank you for your help. We’re sorry for the disturbance.” She started to walk away.

  “One second,” Locke said to her. He turned to the man. “Can I use your phone? Ours aren’t working.”

  The man handed Locke the handset and turned the phone so he could see the numbers. Locke called Agent Carlsen, who was on their team, and updated him.

  “That’s a relief,” Carlsen said. “We were worried about you. Director Matthews told everyone that if you called in, we’re supposed to get your location and come pick you up.”

  Locke figured as much. “We’re headed back to the hotel now to meet up with you all.” They were so close to getting Wells, Locke didn’t want to waste any more time. Especially not when he didn’t totally trust William. But they needed to regroup. And rest.

  “The president is headed to a desert with the governor right now, and we’ve doubled up on his detail because of whatever’s going on with you. But I’ll tell Director Matthews what you said.”

  “Thanks, Carlsen. And make sure you call intelligence when you get a minute. Ask them about their progress looking into my emails, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  Locke hung up. Alana led the way outside, back to the car.

  They needed a win on something, with the police thinking he was a traitor and his own people unable to contact him. Locke didn’t know what he would do if even one Secret Service agent doubted the oath that he’d made. He would never earn back the loss of trust and respect, and that was essential in this business.

  Right now, all he had were God and Alana on his side.

  And that was enough to see him through.

  *

  She turned to Locke. “It was a good lead. We know where Brian Wells has been sleeping and where he eats. That’s something.”

  “You’re right. Going to the homeless shelter was a great idea.” He pulled out his phone. “Still no signal. It can’t be proximity. People around us have working phones. If someone is messing with them, it’s targeted at ours specifically, and it started after I called intelligence and found out someone messed with my reports.”

  “So we’re headed to the hotel now to check in with Director Matthews? He can help us clear up the confusion with the police.” She paused. “With Ray.”

  He almost looked nervous. Alana set her hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to stick by you, no matter what. We haven’t done anything to cast suspicion on us. If this is an attempt to discredit you, there’s no way it’s going to stick. No way.”

  “Thank you. I need your confidence in me.”

  He was a good man who didn’t deserve to have his career trashed by lies. Alana didn’t want to work in a place that would allow that kind of thing to happen. Federal agency or not, they were held to a high standard, and she believed in it. But not at the expense of someone’s life. Wrongs were committed all the time, but it was injustice she just couldn’t abide.

  She knew what it was like to have a dream. Surfing had been the driving force behind her entire life. Then one day that dream was dead and she’d been forced to salvage a new dream from the wreckage of the one she’d had.

  He drove this time, while Alana tried both phones and messaging on the iPad. Email didn’t work, either. A signal jammer would have to have been placed in the car to block a signal where they were. If they moved any significant distance from it, things would begin to work again. But this seemed different. No matter where they were, their phones were spotty.

  It wasn’t a foolproof method of segregating them from their team—more like an annoyance. So why would someone be doing this to them? It wasn’t a good tactic if it was a plan that depended on them being out of contact.

  Their phones hadn’t worked right since after Locke had found out about his reports being falsified. And they hadn’t worked when they were away from the car. Maybe the jammer was on one of them…or was it the phones and Locke’s iPad themselves and it had nothing to do with proximity.

  Alana just couldn’t figure out what the reason was. Let alone who was behind it.

  Locke pulled onto the freeway. A minute later they were surrounded by three black SUVs.

  “Government plates?”

  Alana glanced around, twisting in her seat to see. “Hawaiian, it looks like, but they could be rentals.”

  The three vehicles boxed them in. At the next exit, they were forced to get off the freeway or get hit. Locke drove in the center of the huddle, which forced him to turn onto a side street. The SUVs sped up and one turned in front of him.

  Locke screeched to a halt, locking both of their seat belts.

  Armed yakuza soldiers jumped out and surrounded them.

  THIRTEEN

  When Mikio Adachi emerged from the rear of the vehicle to their left, Alana cracked her door. “Hold up.” Locke didn’t want her to get out before he did. Neither of them had body armor, and these men had automatic weapons. If he thought it would help and not wind up a bloodbath, he might’ve seen if his phone worked and called the police.

  Except it was more likely he’d end up the one arrested, not these yakuza gunmen. Better than being dead, though.

  Mikio stood beside his vehicle inside the circle of protection provided by his men. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but from what Locke could see of his face the man wore a neutral expression. He didn’t move. Locke and Alana waited. After a minute, Mikio reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

  “Daniel Kaiko’s phone.”

  A peace offering. “Fine,” Locke said, “but we do this slow and careful. I do not want the situation to erupt just because someone made a miscalculation and we end up with one of these itchy triggers taking out a bystander.”

  The streets were sparse, but people could come upon them at any moment. He didn’t want anyone getting caught in the crossfire.

  Alana nodded. “Slow and careful.” She pushed her door open wider.

  Locke got out on his side and made sure it was clear to all of these men that he would go out protecting her if that was what it took. God had given him these protective instincts for a reason—and if that reason was to take care of Alana, then he was good with it. Whether it was in the normal course of his job or because their relationship had moved in that direction didn’t matter. Either was good.

  Locke caught her gaze as she rounded the hood of the car and then faced forward to keep watch on each of the gunmen. But it wasn’t the scene that eclipsed his thoughts. Instead, what he couldn’t help thinking was that he wanted more than just a work relationship with her. Alana meant something to him, something important he wanted to explore.

  Right now was the wrong time for him to have realized it, but it was what it was. He couldn’t help the timing. God, get us through this without anyone getting hurt. Help us get the answers we so desperately need.

  Alana stepped forward slowly. Mikio did the same.

  Mikio’s eyes flashed. “Scared of me now?”

  “You forced us off the road, and now your armed guards are pointing machine guns at us.” Alana’s tone matched what Locke felt. She’d considered this man a friend at one point in her life, but she was as done with his shenanigans as Locke. She said, “How are those the actions of someone intent on portraying the fact they’re at all trustworthy?”

  Mikio nodded, the epitome of grace. He almost could have been a Japanese state leader. Except he’d need more gray hair. “My apologies.”

  “If you’ll grant me the phone, Director Locke and I will be leaving now.”

  Mikio smiled. “Of course.” He held the phone out. Alana reached for it, but at the last second he pulled it back. “Oh, just one more thing first.”

  Games. Locke hated games, and he hated that this man was intent on playing them with him and Alana. Mikio was counting on Alana’s sympathies and his ties to her sister. Mikio didn’t know the kind of woman Alana had become since he’d known her years ago.

  One of Mikio’s men actually snickered. Locke wasn’t going to stand for his partner being taken for a fool. He strode forward and stopped, facing Mikio, his shoulder in front of Alana. He drew his weapon. “Want me to arrest you and take the phone that way? Because I will.”

  Mikio lifted his free hand, palm out. “Perhaps I will rescind my offer. Or simply neglect to tell you the passcode.”

  “Daniel Kaiko is in police custody.” His phone could potentially provide them with intel they needed—intel they had no access to otherwise. But Mikio didn’t need to know that; he could go on believing they considered Daniel a done part of this.

  “Then you don’t require the phone?”

  Alana said, “Neither do you. Since I’m guessing you went through it already and deleted anything…incriminating.”

  Mikio smiled. There was an edge to him, but while he was every inch the yakuza boss here, Locke could also see how—back in the day—he’d been just another kid at school. He still had that youthful air, like he could shuck the yakuza boss skin he wore at any time. Locke hoped that was what drew Kaylee to him and not his dangerous side. The woman needed someone safe, just like Alana did, not a guy who was going to put her at risk even more.

  And yeah, Alana’s sister’s relationship status wasn’t really his business, but he cared about Alana, so why wouldn’t he care about her sister, as well? He had sisters, and if one of them were dating a gangster he’d for sure have something to say about it.

  “I protect what’s mine.”

  Locke studied his face. “What does that mean?”

  “Kaylee is in danger.”

  “Yesterday when she’d stood you up, you were ready to call it quits and move on. Why the sudden change of heart? Find something in Daniel’s phone?”

  “I have reason to believe Kaylee is in danger. If I give you the phone, I want your guarantee Kaylee will be protected.”

  Alana said, “Who is she in danger from? Daniel?”

  Locke waited for the answer. It made sense if Mikio had gone through the phone. When the yakuza boss said nothing, Locke answered, “I’m guessing yes. I just don’t see how you think we can help. I doubt the cops will let us in, even if we wanted to do you this favor.”

  “You will, or you don’t get the phone.” Mikio’s stare hardened. “Kaylee is in danger, and it’s happening tonight.”

  Alana shrugged one shoulder. “How are you so sure?”

  “Because I am.” Mikio ran a hand through his hair and down his face. “Why are you still standing here when I’ve told you that she’s in danger? Don’t you care about your sister?”

  Locke didn’t need Alana to answer that. He said, “Sorry, we don’t jump when you tell us to.”

  Locke wasn’t opposed to watching out for Kaylee, especially if it got them a step closer to whoever was behind this whole thing. Still. “But what about Ray? He’s probably got the whole police force on the warpath, convinced the bomb threat against the president was my doing. So how do we convince him we’re at the hospital to protect Kaylee when he wants to arrest me?”

  “Bomb threat?” When Locke nodded, Mikio said, “I wondered what all the fuss was about. They shut the whole block down and rushed the president out the back.”

 

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