A Spy For a Spy

by Diane Henders

  I straightened and clamped my hand around his wrist, letting him have the full force of my grip despite the jab of pain from my arthritic thumb. A tiny spurt of satisfaction warmed me at his start of surprise.

  Yeah, I’m stronger than I look, buddy.

  I pushed at his wrist, and when he let go I released him as if I’d been clutching a sewer rat. Which, come to think of it, I had.

  I leaned close, glaring at him from the lofty advantage of my heels. “We’re not going anywhere. And we’ve got nothing to talk about.”

  He gave me an irritatingly superior smile. “So you won’t mind if I send Stemp a nice photo of you and your boyfriend getting all hot and heavy on company time.”

  I shot the photo a contemptuous glance. Kane’s massive shoulders blocked most of the details. Only the back of his head and a sliver of my hair were visible.

  I went for a sneer. “You’re not much of a photographer. So you snapped a couple of random people that look a bit like Kane and me. You think I give a shit?”

  “I think you will. That was just the last one.” He toggled the camera’s display.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  The bastard had caught the whole exchange. My mind raced while he flipped through the photos in a stop-action montage showing Kane closing in, stepping away, moving closer and kissing me.

  If Stemp saw this, Kane was in deep shit. I had no rank or privileges to be revoked and I was the only person in the world…

  I stopped myself. The only person in the world except Tammy Mellor, anyway… who could decrypt and hack networks. Stemp needed me.

  But all Kane’s long career in military and law enforcement, all his medals and commendations and exemplary service wouldn’t save him from disciplinary action for inappropriate behaviour on the job.

  Goddammit, I told him he was going to get hurt…

  Doytchevsky toggled to the last photo and shot me a victorious grin. “Are you feeling a little more cooperative now?”

  My old defensive reflexes snapped into place with an almost-audible click. Pretend you don’t care and they can’t hurt you.

  I felt the familiar mask of indifference slip onto my face. “Why should I? I’ve got nothing to lose.”

  He frowned. “Maybe not. But your boyfriend does.”

  “That asshole’s not my boyfriend.” I shrugged. “I’m going to bed.”

  I was turning away when he grabbed my arm again. “You’re bluffing. I’m going to send these straight to Stemp tonight, and by tomorrow morning Kane’s disciplinary hearing will already be scheduled.”

  “Tell it to somebody who cares. And I’d like to hear you explain to Stemp why you followed me down here in the first place. Good luck with that.”

  He eyed me with contempt. “I’m not that stupid. I’m here for a technology expo, which I’ve duly registered for and attended, according to their records. If I just happened to be doing a little sight-seeing one evening, well…”

  I hid my icy trickle of fear. So much for that line of defense. Before I could respond, he spoke again.

  “We both know you’re bluffing, so give it up. You wouldn’t be kissing him if you didn’t care about him, and you know how much he has to lose if this goes to Stemp.”

  Holding onto my façade with all my might, I gave him a blank stare. “Go take your camera to bed and flip through those pictures again while you whack off, you pathetic little louse. After you wipe your jizz off the display, you’ll notice I wasn’t kissing him. He was kissing me. I don’t give a shit about him. You’ve got nothing.”

  I turned and walked away.

  Safely up in the penthouse, I stripped off the shoes and dress and pantyhose, wincing at the bright red abrasion on my inner thigh. In the privacy of my ensuite bathroom, I glared at my reflection and mouthed obscenities I didn’t dare scream out loud for fear of triggering another call from the front desk.

  It didn’t help.

  Rage and fear overwhelmed me, and I flung the dress onto the floor, kicking it violently around and around the bathroom. At last, I leaned my sweating hands on the vanity, my breath coming in hiccups that wanted to turn into sobs.

  Goddamn Doytchevsky, goddamn Vegas, goddamn that goddamn stupid dress, and goddamn Kane for putting himself in that kind of danger!

  I couldn’t even call him. Doytchevsky could easily get my cell phone records, and a call to Kane immediately after the confrontation with Doytchevsky would be even more incriminating than the pictures. I stared at my hollow-eyed, dishevelled self in the mirror, emitted a small whimper, and trudged out of the bathroom to creep into bed.

  “Aydan. Hey, Aydan, wake up!”

  I groaned and pried my face away from the pillow to see Nichele’s red dress backlit in the open door of my bedroom. Shit, I should’ve locked that.

  “If you’re not waking me up because you’re dying, I’m going to kill you.” My voice emerged in a raw croak. “What time is it?”

  “It’s six A.M. Come on, Aydan, you’re always up by now. Hurry up, we have to go.”

  “Go? What? Where?” I jacked my head a little higher and groaned again when I eased my aching fingers out of their death grip on my gun. I must have fallen asleep clutching it. Christ, had I even moved since I fell into bed less than four hours ago?

  I pushed the gun a little farther under the pillow and rolled over to squint at Nichele’s figure vibrating in the doorway. “Nichele, what the hell?”

  “Dave’s not answering his cell phone. I just know something bad has happened to him! We have to go and find him.”

  I fell back on the pillow. “It’s six in the morning. The poor bastard’s probably in the shower or something. Or still sleeping. Go away and let me sleep, too.”

  The mattress bounced under the weight of one small but determined woman. My eyes popped open when she seized my wrist and pulled.

  “Come on, Aydan, I’m not kidding. I’m really worried. I’ve been trying to call him since yesterday morning. He’s a trucker. You know he never goes anywhere without his cell phone.”

  “Nichele…” I marshalled my sleepy brain into a semblance of tact and gently disengaged her fingers. “I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but do you think maybe he’s ignoring your calls? Maybe he just wants a clean break.”

  She gave a little flounce of frustration. “No! Aydan, he’d never do that! This is Dave we’re talking about. And I left him a voice mail and told him it was an emergency. I know he’d call me back. You know it, too.”

  I sat up, my heart beginning to thump a little harder. She was right. When I’d been in trouble, Dave wouldn’t leave me no matter how hard I tried to drive him away. And we hadn’t been in a relationship.

  “Okay, Nichele, calm down. Let’s think about this. Did you try his home phone?”

  “He doesn’t have a home phone.” Her voice was beginning to tremble. “He doesn’t even have a home. He just lives in that big stupid truck he’s so proud of.”

  “Oh.” I flashed back to Dave’s tiny but impeccably clean custom-built sleeper. The miniscule sink and toilet, the narrow bed, the small built-in cabinets containing his few neatly folded clothes.

  My heart swelled. When he’d rescued me literally off the street a few weeks ago, I hadn’t realized he was inviting me into the only home he had. And he’d left it behind for me without a single complaint. Never even mentioned how important it was to him.

  I owed him my life, and then some.

  Stay calm.

  I took a deep breath. “Maybe his cell phone died and he had to get a new one.”

  “I thought of that! But it’s his business phone, too. His everything phone. He’d forward the number to his new phone. Aydan, something’s wrong, I know it, I know it!”

  “Nichele, just calm down for a second-”

  “Aydan, oh my God, what if James found him?” Her dark eyes went liquid with terror. “What if-”

  I seized her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Nichele, stop! Now you’re just sc
aring yourself. James is in jail and he’s going to stay there for a very long time. You’re safe. Dave’s safe. It’ll be okay.”

  “But what if he got out?” Her usually confident voice was a teary whisper. “You know how smart he is. And how mean he is...” Her voice wavered into silence.

  I pulled her into a hug, tightening my arms around the delicate shoulders that had so recently been black with the bruises of James Helmand’s fists.

  “Nichele, it’s okay, I promise. They won’t let him out.”

  I was sure of it. The regular justice system might be rife with loopholes, but when people got arrested by Stemp and his team, they usually stayed arrested.

  “And anyway,” I added, “He never met Dave, and the two of you weren’t together at the time. There’s no way James would even know to look for him.”

  Nichele pulled away, straightening her spine and dabbing her eyes. “You’re right, I know you’re right. But… Aydan…”

  I switched to another tack. “Did you call the police? Can you file a missing-persons report?”

  “I don’t think they’ll listen. It’s not even twenty-four hours.” She gulped. “He’s a healthy guy and he doesn’t need any medications or anything. A trucker with no fixed address. When they find out he dumped me, too, they’ll just blow me off.”

  I squeezed her hand. “If you file a report, I’m sure they’ll look. Call them. They wouldn’t blow it off.”

  “Okay, I will. But we’re wasting time.” She sprang off the bed. “Come on, get packed. We have to start looking for him.”

  “Nichele, let the police deal with it, okay?”

  “I’m not just going to sit here and wait! Come on!”

  “Slow down. How could we look for him? He could be anywhere in North America by now. Do you even have any idea where he was going? Did he have a load this week?”

  “He was going to Vancouver again. I think he pulled out Friday right after he left... me…” Her voice quavered on the last words.

  I blew out a long breath. “Okay, I’ll see if I can get my flight changed.”

  “Forget that, Aydan, I’ll buy us tickets on the first plane out of here. I don’t care what it costs.”

  Shit, there was no way I could get through the airport carrying my gun without Stemp’s intervention.

  “Just go pack.” I hauled myself out of bed to take her by the shoulders and point her in the direction of the door. “Let me see what I can do.”

  The bedroom door safely locked behind me, I snatched one of Stemp’s secure phones out of the bag and pressed the speed dial.

  Only one ring sounded before Stemp’s brusque voice spoke. “What took you?”

  “What…?”

  Never mind. I shook myself back to the present. “I need to get back to Calgary on the first flight out of here.”

  “Already done. Report to my office as soon as you can get back to Silverside.” He followed up with a spate of flight numbers and disconnected.

  Shit, that couldn’t be good.

  I stood staring at the phone in my hand for a few seconds, my heart slowly sinking. Doytchevsky wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t have, that rat-bastard. Would he?

  Oh, shit.

  Chapter 15

  Beside the baggage carousel in the Calgary airport, Nichele turned to look up at me, her unprecedented lack of makeup leaving her sallow and haggard. The deep shadows under her eyes emphasized her lost-puppy expression.

  “Aydan, please, just come with me so we can leave right away. Your client can’t be more important than Dave. If you have to drive all the way up to Silverside, it’ll be evening before you get back. We don’t have time.”

  I squeezed her trembling hand. “Look, Nichele, it’s better this way. In the first place, it gives the police a little longer to look for him. In the second place, you haven’t slept, and you can’t help anybody if you’re so exhausted you can’t function.”

  When she started to shake her head, I gave her hand a little squeeze and locked eyes with her. “Nichele. Here’s what I need you to do. Go home…”

  “But, Aydan-”

  “No, listen. Go home and get on the internet and start making a list of all the gas stations and truck stops and everything along the TransCanada Highway between here and Vancouver. Then call, um…” I racked my brain for the names of the places Dave had stopped on our last trip and came up empty. “Call the gas stations and restaurants on the north side of the highway in Revelstoke and Hope. That’s where he stopped when he drove me last time. Get packed…”

  I played the wardrobe card, hoping she wasn’t too far gone to perk up at the thought of clothes. “You’ll need totally different clothes for a road trip than you did for Vegas.”

  She pulled herself up out of her dejected slouch with a little nod. “Okay.”

  “And if I’m still not back by then, you need to sleep. Or at least lie down and rest. But I’ll probably be back,” I lied. “Okay?”

  “Okay. See you later.” She trailed away towing her two big bags, her tiny form looking even smaller than usual.

  I blew out a breath between my teeth and headed for the exit.

  I signed in at the Sirius Dynamics security desk, my mind still buzzing with all the scenarios I’d considered during my two-hour drive. If Doytchevsky had delivered the incriminating photos to Stemp, my best solution would be to tell Stemp I was on another obscure “mission”, and that I’d asked Kane to stage the kiss as part of my cover.

  But if he hooked me up to the damn lie detector, it was all over. And if I tried to avoid the lie detector, he’d be even more suspicious. Goddammit.

  I flashed my security prox card at the doors to the office area and trudged through.

  But I didn’t really have any other option. I couldn’t think of any other plausible reason why Kane would kiss me except for the truth. And the truth could kill his career.

  Dragging my feet up the stairs, I spared a brief thought to the possibility that it might be something else entirely. I racked my brain for any other transgressions I might have committed, but nothing came to mind.

  Shit.

  I drew a deep breath and tapped on Stemp’s door.

  He looked up, frowning. “Come in. Close the door behind you.”

  When I complied, he waved me into the chair in front of his desk. “Please sit.”

  I almost handed over my gun out of sheer reflex, but he didn’t ask for it. Instead, he eyed me briefly, still frowning, before he spoke.

  “Agent Kelly, I owe you an apology. I wasn’t aware of this situation, and I’m sorry it came to the point where you felt impelled to file a formal complaint. I’m also sorry you felt so intimidated that you couldn’t come to me directly.”

  “Uh…?”

  What the hell was he talking about? I searched his concerned expression for a clue.

  “Rest assured that we will treat this very seriously indeed. Kane has been suspended without pay pending his hearing, and he is under direct orders not to contact you in any way during the intervening time. A breach of those orders will result in a court-martial, and almost certainly dishonourable discharge and imprisonment. Please notify me immediately if he attempts to contact you or harass you in any way.”

  I didn’t have to fake my confusion. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

  Stemp’s frown deepened. “This, of course.” He gestured to a sheaf of papers on the desk in front of him. “Your sexual harassment complaint.”

  “My what?” My voice rose to a squeak. “I didn’t file any complaints. Harassment or otherwise.”

  That scum-sucking bastard! Doytchevsky hadn’t just damaged Kane’s career, he had annihilated it.

  Just to hurt me.

  Icy rage froze my reaction into needle-sharp focus. “Let me see that.” My voice was completely calm and level.

  Stemp pushed the papers across his desk.

  I skimmed the typed sheet, fury pulsing behind my eyes. A glance at the photos on the other she
ets proved Doytchevsky had chosen with deadly intent. In the first of the sequence, I stared wide-eyed up at Kane looming around the corner of the pillar. In the second, my face was frozen in an expression that could have been fear while Kane leaned closer, grinning.

  A small voice commented from the corner of my brain. Shit, now I knew how I looked when I was fighting lust. Not pretty.

  The third was even more damning. Kane towered over me while I backed away with both hands pressed against the pillar behind me as if seeking protection. This time there was no mistaking the fear in my face, but I had been afraid, dammit. Afraid I was going to jump him right there on the sidewalk.

  Another shot showed my face twisted with anger. The next was a closeup of Kane’s hand clamped on my neck, my eyes enormous while he stared down from inches away. And then the kiss, with my hands braced against his chest as if fighting him.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  “These are fake.” My voice was dead level. “And you don’t seriously believe I wrote this letter.” I slapped the sheet with the back of my hand. “This is bullshit! ‘I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what to do. He keeps forcing me…’ What a load of shit!”

  I glared at Stemp. “Do you honestly believe I’d write a pathetic, limp-wristed, cowardly load of piss-poor whining like this? If I had a problem, I’d bring it up with him, and if that didn’t solve it, I’d get mediation. And if I was going to actually file a complaint, I’d have a complete list of dates, times, and documentation! This is bullshit!”

  Stemp’s poker face was impenetrable. “I understand how intimidating it must be to face up to a man of Kane’s size and martial arts skill. I understand that you may be having second thoughts out of fear, and I assure you, we’ll protect you-”

  “No!” I rocketed to my feet. “Get the damn lie-detector. Hook me up right fucking now and ask me if Kane has ever, ever, acted inappropriately. Do it! Now!”

  Stemp rocked back in his chair, a faint twitch of humour flickering for only an instant at the corner of his mouth. “You forget who gives the orders here.”