Shay blinked. The present rushed back to him, suddenly and sickeningly. He was standing in a train, pressed against strangers. And the girl who he had fallen in love with all those years ago was sitting over there, unaware that he was here. The girl who had said that she would always stand by her conscience. The girl who said that it was necessary to stand up to evil, even when it was unpopular to do so.
That girl had turned into a woman who was a criminal.
Shay tried not to stare at her. He wanted to rush over to her and shake her. Scream at her. Ask her what had happened; how she had strayed so far from her own morals, and her conscience. But he didn’t know this woman, and she didn’t know him.
The train lurched to a stop. Tess got up quickly, and exited. Shay took a deep breath and walked off the train, too.
She was riding the escalator to the top of the station. He let a few people get on before him, then he jumped on. He could still see her auburn hair, just ahead of him.
He tailed her down a darkened street, with only a few street lamps to light the way. He could see a Thai restaurant on the corner, and a few other shops, most of which were now closed. This was an area of the city he was unfamiliar with. A district that was neither well-to-do or down and out; just a regular inner-city suburb, where regular people lived.
It was far removed from the outer suburb that they had both grown up in. Here, it was all apartment blocks, with the occasional house. There, it was street after street of brick boxed houses, with sprawling back yards, all built in the seventies. Someone’s vision of a tranquil life to raise families.
But the outer suburbs hadn’t been home for either of them, not really. Too safe. Too dull. And as teenagers, they had chomped at the bit for action. For something exciting and wild to break the tedium. It was why they had both been at that abandoned house that night. Looking for adventure.
Was she happy, living in the city now? Had she found the adventure she was searching for, as an art forger, using her talent for evil?
He watched her enter an apartment block, taking out a key. She stopped for a moment, gazing around. Did she sense that he was following her? He slunk back, finding a bus stop to shelter in. She sighed, then kept walking, into a bottom floor apartment. She closed the door firmly behind her.
Shay sat back in the bus shelter, letting out his breath. So, she didn’t live in the ritzy studio apartment in the heart of the city. She lived here, in a much more modest flat. Did she commute to the studio to work? It would make sense. Mr. Gee had told him that the art forgery operation was wide spread. Tess was probably only one of many artists that worked for them. The operation probably had artists dotted all over the city, beavering away on their copies of well-known and expensive paintings.
He felt a sour taste in his mouth. Tess was a part of that. She must know that what she was doing was wrong, as well as illegal. Why had she sacrificed her conscience for money? Because he knew that she must be being paid a mint for what she was doing. His own fee for moving the paintings was substantial; the artists must be being paid very handsomely. And yet, her modest apartment didn’t reflect that. Perhaps she just didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Perhaps all her ill-gotten money was safe and sound in a Swiss bank account.
Shay sighed wearily. He was tired. He should go home. Report back to Thad. He knew enough, at least for the first day on the job. He had strong leads. He still had to trace who headed the corporation that owned the Sycamore Avenue building, and that should lead him to who Tess’s and Mr. Gee’s employer was. The head of the operation who they were searching for.
There was nothing to be gained sitting here watching her flat. And yet, he didn’t move. It was as if he simply couldn’t. As if moving physically away from her, when he had just found her again, was beyond him.
His eyes widened. She was leaving the flat. He could see that she had changed quickly. She wore the same coat, but he could see that she had swapped her jeans and the shirt for a maroon dress and black tights; she wore smart black ankle boots as opposed to runners. Tess was heading out for the night.
He felt a sharp stab of jealousy. Who was she going to meet? Was it a boyfriend?
She didn’t glance his way. She headed in the opposite direction, walking swiftly. If he didn’t get up and follow her soon, she would disappear completely.
Shay hesitated. Cursing to himself, he got up and followed her.
***
Tess sat down at the table in the small restaurant. The waiter came over. “Can I get you a drink while you wait?”
She gazed up at him. “A glass of merlot,” she said. “And three menus, please.”
He nodded, drifting away. She stared around the room, absently, picking at the bread in the centre of the table. She was starving, as always. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to wait too long before she could order dinner.
She had been expecting to throw her Thai leftovers into the microwave for dinner tonight. But just as she was about to do it, her phone had buzzed. They wanted a meeting, instead of the usual phone call. He had rattled off the address of this out-of-the-way restaurant, telling her to be there in half an hour. Then he had hung up. Tess had stared at the phone, blinking.
The waiter placed her drink in front of her and sat down the menus. Tess took a long sip. She was tired, as always. She had planned on crawling into bed with a book tonight. She sighed. She still had to get used to the fact that she wasn’t working regular hours anymore. That she was on-call, twenty-four hours a day.
She glanced around the restaurant, taking another sip of her wine. It was practically deserted. There was a couple at another table, in a far-off corner, studying their menus in silence. But otherwise she was all alone.
She studied the couple. First date? Yes, it looked like it. They weren’t overly familiar with each other, and when they spoke, they were polite. They looked like people that didn’t know each other very well but were eager to. Tess smiled slightly. How long had it been since she’d been on a date? It seemed like months ago. Well, before her life had careered in this strange new direction.
She took another sip of wine, feeling the liquid warm her blood. She didn’t miss it, not really. Going on dates with strangers, or men that she barely knew. Hoping that this might be the one. It never was. She just had to accept that her life was not going to go down that path. Once she had imagined that one day she might have a husband and a family, but it seemed remote, now. She was a career girl, and that was all there was to it.
She was twenty-eight. Pushing thirty. Getting too old to go on random dates. Playing Russian roulette with men. They were all the same, anyway. She had never met anyone who made her heart beat quicker or her blood sing. She knew that some women compromised as they got older and heard the biological clock ticking, but she didn’t want to.
Better to be single than in the wrong relationship. A mantra she lived by.
The door to the restaurant opened. She didn’t turn her head to look.
“Tess.”
She glanced up at the two men, standing there. She forced a smile onto her face.
“Sit down,” she said, indicating the seats. They sat down, staring around.
They ordered drinks, and then they all studied their menus, making quick decisions. As they waited for their food, Tess could feel her heart start to thud. It had only been small talk so far. But the older man stared at her now, putting his whiskey down on the table decisively.
“Sorry for the short notice,” he said, gazing at her. “But we felt that a short meeting to go over the details of what is happening was called for.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath. “There isn’t much,” she said slowly. “I’ve been working on extracting information from Mr. Gee, the middle man. But he is very skilled at deflecting, and his nose starts twitching if I ask too many questions.”
The older man nodded. “That’s his job. Go over what you have found out.”
“He wants the painting completed quickly,” she said. “But he won’t comp
romise on quality. I know that there are other artists doing the same thing. I expect that they have studios all over the city.”
The other man frowned. “It’s exactly as we thought. They have a multi-layered operation. It’s not just priceless works of art they are targeting.”
“Any idea yet who Mr. Gee’s boss is?” pressed the older man, staring at her. “He hasn’t dropped any clues, as you’ve been chatting?”
Tess shook her head. “None. He is tight-lipped and doesn’t want to chat. I tried to persuade him to go out for lunch with me today, at a café across the road from the studio, thinking that he might relax and chat a bit over a meal.” She paused. “He agreed but changed his mind at the last minute. He ended up leaving.”
“I suggested to Tess that she look through his briefcase,” said the other man. “You haven’t had a chance yet?”
Tess sighed. “He doesn’t even go to the bathroom when he’s in the studio, and even if he did, there are cameras everywhere. They would know that I did it. That was why I was trying to get him out of the studio. I thought that I might get a chance in the café.”
The older man picked up his drink, sipping thoughtfully. “It’s taking too long. He won’t be won over easily.” He paused. “We’ve followed him, of course, but he never seems to meet with his employer. They must communicate remotely, via phone or online.”
Tess’s eyes widened. “He carries a laptop with him sometimes,” she said, sipping her wine. “If I could just get him to relax and get him out of the studio, I could get into it and copy all the files. That could lead us to the employer.”
The older man smiled. “Yes, that would be ideal. But the challenge is the same as searching his briefcase.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “There has to be a way, though.”
At that moment their meals arrived. They fell silent as they ate. When the meal was over, and the plates cleared, they started speaking again.
“Hang tight,” said the older man, staring at her. “We will figure out a way. Wait for directives.” He paused, staring at her. “You are doing really well, Tess. This is your first undercover operation with us, and we are all impressed.”
Tess smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Walker. I’m doing my best.”
The other man smiled, too. “It’s slow, painstaking work,” he said. “Not as much action as you might have first thought when you joined the Bureau. But this is the reality of the job, Tess.” He paused. “You are ideal for this case. In fact, we couldn’t believe it when we were doing background checks on our new operatives and discovered your art background.”
Tess’s smile broadened. “It’s not something I advertise much,” she said. “It hardly seemed relevant when I was applying for the FBI. But it seems to have come in very handy on this case, Mr. Hopkins.”
“Please, call me Paul. I insist,” replied the man. “You’re perfect. A newly trained operative who just happens to be a skilled artist as well? We couldn’t have advertised for it. You are in a prime position to find out information, Tess. Right in the belly of the beast, so to speak.”
Tess nodded. “It’s challenging…Paul,” she said slowly. “My first case and working as a professional artist as well. I haven’t done any painting like this in years, so it’s been a baptism by fire. But Mr. Gee seems to be convinced that I have what it takes, despite his constant criticisms.”
“You do have what it takes,” said Mr. Walker, gazing fondly at her. “They would never have employed you if they didn’t think you were skilled enough to do it. Remember that when your painting hand is aching and you feel overwhelmed with it all.”
“I will, sir,” she replied. “Your confidence in me is gratifying. I won’t let either of you down.”
The two men stood up. The older man stared down at her. “We will be in touch about copying Mr. Gee’s computer files, Tess. Take care.”
Tess nodded, smiling at them both. They walked out of the restaurant without a backward glance.
***
Shay watched the two men who had dined with Tess leave the restaurant. He hadn’t been anticipating that so much would happen today, otherwise he would have brought the long lens camera with him. It was too dark to take photos of them on his phone, and he was too far away. He had missed a chance to identify more people working for the corporation.
He sighed. That was if they did, of course. Perhaps they were just friends of Tess, catching up for a meal. But again, his instincts told him that wasn’t the case.
He had watched them talking as they ate their meal. There was no laughter or excited swapping of information that you might expect of friends catching up. No, it had been very subdued. Almost professional in appearance. And the two men hadn’t lingered after the meal was finished. They had stood up and left without any further ado.
The two men climbed into a black car and sped off into the night. He turned and watched Tess through the restaurant window.
She didn’t seem eager to leave. In fact, he watched as she ordered another glass of wine, then sat there drinking it, as if she wasn’t in any particular hurry.
He glanced around, then stared down at his wristwatch. It was getting onto eight o’clock. Again, he knew that he should just head off and call it a day. She would probably just head home after this. He really didn’t anticipate that she would be seeing anyone else tonight, and he had background research to do.
But once again, he resisted. It was as if he couldn’t get his fill of watching her. This ghost from his past who had suddenly slammed into his present in the most unexpected of ways.
He would follow her home. Just to make sure she got there safely. It was dark, and she hadn’t driven here. He waited.
Eventually she stood up, and paid her bill, exiting the restaurant. He saw her glance left and right before she headed off down the road, in the same direction that she had come in.
He counted to ten in his head, and then started following her. She would probably head onto the main road near them, and hail a cab like she had on the way here. Yes, she was following exactly the same route.
She rounded a corner, quickly. He forced himself to slow down a bit then trailed her. He rounded the corner himself, expecting to see her ahead of him.
Except she wasn’t there. He stopped, glancing uneasily around. It was a fairly quiet street, with no restaurants or bars that she could have suddenly veered into. Where had she gone?
He kept walking, slower this time, searching for her. But it was as if she had vanished into thin air.
His heart started to thud. Had someone grabbed her and dragged her off the street? But she would have screamed, surely. He would have heard her. There hadn’t been a sound to indicate a struggle of any sort. He narrowed his eyes, searching frantically. His wolf’s keen vision suddenly sharpened, and his senses were on high alert.
Should he start door knocking? He smiled to himself at that thought. What would he even say, if people answered their doors? That he was looking for a woman, who may or may not have sought sanctuary at their house? They would slam the door in his face, assuming he was a stalker. And then they would call the police. And he had no way of knowing which house she would have targeted, anyway.
If she had. But he couldn’t see how she could have vanished so suddenly. There hadn’t even been any cars travelling along this street.
He was still looking around, deciding what to do, when he was suddenly on the ground. Someone had jumped him. He gasped, winded, on the ground. He was just about to rear up, and slam them away from him, when he saw who it was that held him.
It was Tess. Holding him down firmly, so that his arms were pinioned to the ground.
She stared down at him. “You’d better start talking,” she hissed, tightening her grip. “I know you’ve been following me. Who are you?”
He was speechless. He simply stared up at her, not knowing what to say.
She kept staring at him. And he saw the exact moment when her eyes widened, and she realised who he was.
Chapter Six
Tess felt her mind spinning, and without thinking, she loosened her grip on him. This was impossible. The man who had been following her was Shay!
She continued to stare down at him, as if a ghost had suddenly materialised in front of her. All the years in between melted away like ice in the sun.
She had been aware of the man following her almost from the start, but she had been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, and believe that he was just going the same way as her. That perhaps he lived close by, and it was only coincidence that he appeared to be tailing her. But when she had spotted him skulking in the bus shelter down the road from her flat, and then became aware that he was following her again, she knew.
Her first instinct had been to just ignore him. She was a trained operative; she could take care of herself. She didn’t think that he was seeking to harm her, anyway. No, this man was following her for a reason. Was he a paid employee of the art forgery operation, just like she supposedly was, and been told to watch her? Were they suspicious of her?
But as she turned the corner after leaving the restaurant she suddenly became sick of it. She would confront the man and find out what his deal was. And if he worked for the forgery operation, then at least she would know that they were tailing her. Alternately, he could just be a stalker that needed to be dealt with decisively, and she was more than up to that task.
And now, she was holding a ghost from her past. A guy that she had thought she would never see again in her life. How had he found her? And why was he following her?
“Hello, Tess,” he said softly, gazing up at her. “It’s been a while.”
She continued to stare down at him, frowning. Then she suddenly reefed him to his feet, so that they were standing side by side.
“You had better explain, Shay,” she said slowly. “Before I knee cap you in this street.”
He smiled slightly. “It’s nice to see you again too, Tess.”
Her frown deepened. “Don’t give me that crap,” she said crisply. “I know you’ve been following me. This isn’t a random meeting.” She paused. “I’m waiting.”
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