The Spy Who Left Me

by Gina Robinson

He looked handsome, but solemn, in profile. He wore flat panel slacks, a pale yellow tropical-print Tommy Bahama camp shirt, and crossover sandals. Perfect Hawaiian beach wedding apparel, compliments of Kiki’s keen eye for style.

  Good grief! If Kiki dressed him every day, Treflee would never be able to keep her hands off him.

  He held a pair of TV sunglasses, all the better for viewing her and Hal with. When he put them on he could watch TV in the corners of the lenses.

  “Nervous?” he asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t worry, I have your back.”

  “Good. It’s exceptionally exposed tonight, thanks to you. Retribution?”

  His expression remained masked. “Good policy. Make him hot, Tref.”

  Not exactly the kind of thing you like to hear from your husband.

  She touched his arm and took a chance. “Ty, there’s no need to rush this divorce. Let’s sit on things. Try to work things out for the sake of your career. Emmett will be furious if we don’t. I know too much now. And you don’t want a failed mission on your record, do you?”

  He didn’t reply so she kept talking. “I’m happy to go on as before. Emmett could find us a good marriage counselor, someone we could really talk to, someone from Langley maybe. Don’t say anything now. Just think about it while you’re off on your next mission.”

  He stared at her. “I’ve never kept any secrets from you that I didn’t have to, nothing, ever, about our personal life. I’ve always had your back, Tref. The question is—do you have mine?”

  She blinked back tears, but she wasn’t going to beg. He hated begging.

  At the sound of a car approaching, Ty stepped back and cleared his throat. He nodded toward it. “There’s your date. Knock him dead.” He slid the sunglasses on.

  She swallowed hard and tried to lift the mood. “Can you see me now?” She tilted her head so the flower cam took in her cleavage and the flowing skirt of her dress.

  “In perfect hi def.”

  “And how do my bumps and bruises look?”

  “Your bumps look … perky. Use them to your advantage.” Still no hint of flirt in his voice or manner, all business. “Kiki did wonders with that body makeup. No bruises in sight, even in hi def.”

  He looked directly at her, but she couldn’t see his eyes through the sunglasses. “Be sure to keep him on your right, in view of the camera, Tref.”

  Ty waved to Hal and bounced off the veranda to join Carrie, Greg, and the girls. They waited for him on the edge of the lawn on the path through the sugarcane fields between the plantations. Treflee wished she could bounce off and join them, too. If she didn’t have to save the world, she would have.

  As expected, Carrie looked subdued. That was natural enough for a woman in her position. The others laughed and joked as if they were going to a luau with plenty of beer. They waved at Treflee as they headed off.

  As Treflee waved back, she whispered a silent prayer that nothing would go wrong. Everything about this mission from her hair clip to Carrie was an opportunity for failure.

  Hal parked and stepped out of his red Porsche Boxster. He grabbed a wrapped gift and a plastic corsage box from his passenger seat.

  His eyes lit up when he saw her. “Aloha, mahalo. Aren’t I the luckiest guy at the wedding tonight?”

  Those twelve Chinese grooms were certain to disagree. They were guaranteed to get lucky tonight. She kept that thought to herself, though. Instead, she smiled and tried to steady her racing pulse as she walked down the veranda stairs to meet him. “You look pretty terrific yourself.”

  Pretending he was Ty, she let her gaze wander down him appreciatively. He wore casual slacks, a brown batik camp shirt with a front pocket, and nubuck sneakers. He looked good enough to make flirting easy, but not as delectable as Ty.

  He hugged her, running his hands down her bare back in a way that indicated his interest. “So glad you texted. I didn’t think I’d get to see you again.” His voice was husky with lust.

  He definitely has the idea I’m hot for him. Just what did Emmett tell him? She had a horrible vision of some text sex.

  Maybe some suggestive texts would work on Ty. It’s just too bad the wrong guy wants me.

  She smiled back at Hal. “So glad you came.”

  Hal held out the corsage box to her. It contained a large white hibiscus flower. “For your hair. I figured you’d be bored with leis by now.”

  Yeah, especially since they could be used as weapons.

  “How sweet of you.” Treflee set the gift she carried on the bottom step and took the box. She stared at it. What did she do now? Her first spy mission snafu, trouble in paradise. “It’s lovely. Simply gorgeous.”

  He noticed the organza flower pinned over her right ear, and already slipping. “Ah, don’t fake it, Treflee. It was a good thought, but I’m too late. You already have one.”

  “It’s a great thought. I’d rather have a fresh one.” She pulled the organza flower out of her hair as inspiration struck. “Here. Wear this for me?” She tucked the organza flower into the front pocket of his shirt. “There. A boutonniere. Now we’re wedding ready.”

  * * *

  Ty balled his fists as he watched his wife’s ringless fingers tuck the hibiscus cam into Hal’s shirt with loving care in hi def.

  Damn it, Tref. He cursed beneath his breath. Stick with the plan.

  Though he grudgingly gave her points for thinking on her feet, now there was no way to track her if something should happen. Not to mention the minute she pinned that flower on Hal, all Ty got in his glasses was a view of her very pert, sumptuous breasts. Boob cam. Damn. He squirmed as he rose to the occasion.

  He hung out on the lawn in the Sugar Love reception area, pretending nonchalance, senses on high alert. Staff was setting up for the meal following the ceremony. Already bored with making small talk with the other guests before being seated, he eavesdropped on the Chinese couples, watching Abi for a cue.

  Emmett had provided him with a map of the labyrinth of volcano tubes below Sugar Love. Abi was supposed to have disabled the security systems and left a trail of breadcrumbs so he could make it to the video lab once he’d made the switch.

  A wedding photographer was taking posed shots of the bridal couples on the lawn with inordinate care. Ty wondered if there was something in the setup of the shots that conveyed a code as well. Maybe the placement of the couple’s hands or the way they faced?

  Speaking of placement, in the corner of his sunglasses, Tref’s breasts bounced as she walked with Hal into the reception area. Bounce, bounce, jiggle, jiggle. He was going to have wet dreams for a week.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Tref set a package on the gift table.

  “For Abi and Feng,” Ty heard her tell Hal. “Abi invited me, but I really don’t know the other couples at all. Who’s your gift for?”

  “Abi and Feng, of course,” Hal said. “Your friends are my friends.”

  Ty rolled his eyes as he tried not to stare at Tref’s cleavage in hi def in the corner of his glasses while she cooed at Hal, “Aren’t you the sweetest guy? And look how pretty that lavender paper is with that silver ribbon. You wrap that yourself?”

  Ty had to give Tref credit. She was doing her job nearly as well as a pro, giving him a description in case he hadn’t gotten a clear view. Ninety-five percent certain this was the drop, Ty moved within range to scoop up the package. This was almost too easy. Ty felt a ripple of unease. Things going too smoothly right away were a bad omen.

  “Store wrap,” Hal said. “I’m only good at unwrapping things.”

  Ty recognized the tone; in guy speak it meant Hal’d love to unwrap Tref later.

  Ty took a deep calming breath as Tref took Hal’s arm and mercifully Hal turned toward the tables set up for the reception following the group wedding. Ty got a good view of flower-filled tables and the ocean beyond as Tref and Hal continued toward the beach.

  As Tref paused by a table and held up a pa
ckage of Chinese double happiness cigarettes, Ty moved next to the gift table.

  “Cigarettes? Does anyone still smoke anymore?” Tref was saying, trying to keep Hal distracted as Ty lingered near the gifts.

  “The Chinese do,” Hal told her, taking the pack and pocketing them next to the clipped-on boob cam, temporarily jostling Ty’s view. “For later.”

  Right, buddy. No after-sex smoke for you. Touch my wife and you’re dead.

  Possession is nine tenths of the law, and Tref was still Ty’s. Yeah, he was jealous. Surprisingly so, given how betrayed he felt by her.

  Good thing Hal was too far away to take a swing at. Ty would have taken off half his jaw. Instead, he was forced to hear Hal make innuendos about double happiness and watch as he pointed out the double happiness candy strewn across the table. “Sweet like you, babe.”

  Fortunately, right about then Ty got a break in traffic near the table. With no one watching, Ty grabbed Hal’s gift and headed for the powder room for an early Christmas.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Minutes later, Ty deftly unwrapped the gift, found Hal’s SDXC card, made the switch, and reapplied the tape. During that time, Hal put his arm around Tref’s bare back and whispered how hot she made him and how much he was looking forward to taking her back to his place and showing her the view.

  Ty felt his blood pressure rise along with his anger as he watched Hal on the boob cam “accidentally” brush Tref’s breasts with the tips of his callused, thieving fingers.

  Wives on missions are a damn distraction, Ty thought as he put the gift back on the gift table.

  He texted Greg. “Switch made.” That’s when he remembered Greg was also wearing a pair of TV sunglasses with a feed of the boob cam.

  Damn distraction, he repeated to himself.

  * * *

  “Brides’ or grooms’ side?” An usher with a strong Chinese accent and trouble pronouncing his rs asked Treflee and Hal.

  “Abi’s, brides’,” Treflee answered without hesitation as she tried to stifle a shudder. This was an awful time for her phobia of Chinese people to return. It wasn’t that she feared nice Chinese people like Abi, but the usher gave her the creeps. She wondered if he were Fuk Ching and half expected him to slit her throat as revenge for her part in bringing down Zulu, Bang, and Cong.

  Hal had his arm around her waist. As if sensing her fear, he pulled her closer.

  Pretend Hal’s Ty, she told herself. Just pretend he’s Ty.

  The usher led them along a bumpy piece of red carpet spread over the uneven sand to an empty row of folding chairs facing the ocean. Carrie and her bridesmaids were already seated in the row in front of it. Faye turned around, made a funny face, and gave Treflee a sympathetic look. Fortunately, Hal didn’t seem to notice.

  None of the girls could understand how Treflee could take Hal to the wedding when it was clear she was head over heels for Ty. Treflee had tried to explain that she’d promised Hal another date before she and Ty had hooked up. Going to a wedding with him seemed like the safest, most benign kind of date.

  If only they knew!

  Hal waited for Treflee to go into the row of seats first. She would have preferred the aisle, but saw no way to make that happen.

  “Beautiful view,” she whispered to Hal. The sun sat just above the water, ready to make its grand exit within the next half hour.

  Hal seemed relaxed and almost ecstatic as he stared down at her cleavage. “Fabulous.”

  Treflee wondered how much firepower he had on him. Would the tiny tranquilizer dart she carried be enough to subdue him? She wished she’d had more training so Ty would have trusted her with a real gun.

  * * *

  Ty lingered near the gift table, waiting for one of Mrs. Ho’s minions to grab the package. Greg was at the beach keeping an eye on Hal and Tref and hopefully keeping Carrie and the girls in line.

  A Hawaiian guitar and drum ensemble began playing prelude music. The Chinese couples, hand in hand and laughing, grooms in traditional Western wedding tuxedos, brides in white wedding dresses and bare feet, paraded past him, followed by a dutiful videographer. Seeing them so happy and innocent of the trials of married life brought back Ty’s own wedding day. If he could go back and do it all again—

  One of Mrs. Ho’s Chinese waiters walked by and scooped up Hal’s gift with barely a glance at it. Ty waited a second and followed him into Sugar Love like a shadow, through the entry and past the bustling kitchen. The waiter paused at what looked like another pantry door. When no one was looking, he slipped inside. Ty waited a second and followed suit. Turned out he didn’t need Abi’s breadcrumbs.

  Stairs led down to a series of underground volcanic caverns. Fortunately, the noise from the bustle above masked the sounds of his pursuit. He followed the waiter deep into the bowels of Mrs. Ho’s evil headquarters without the waiter seeming the least bit suspicious. Never drop your guard. It’s bad policy. And lethal.

  Ty waited until the waiter scanned his print into a secure thumbprint-accessible-only door and started through.

  Now or never.

  Ty pulled a tiny tranquilizer dart from his pocket and jabbed it in the guy’s neck. The dart was fast-acting. The waiter fell onto the floor unconscious, still holding the package.

  * * *

  Where in the world is Ty?

  Treflee tried to glance around for him without being too obvious. Greg lurked at the back of the crowd. But Ty was nowhere to be seen. A row in front of her, Carrie held a tissue and had already dabbed it to her eyes when she thought no one was looking.

  Treflee frowned.

  Hal touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  She pointed toward Carrie. “My cousin. This was supposed to be her wedding day.”

  Hal nodded sympathetically. “Poor girl.”

  Thank goodness for the cover of Carrie’s pain. Kind of. Treflee may have had her differences with her tough cousin, but she’d love to see her happy. Really happy. It appeared that all those worries over Kane showing up were pointless. He obviously didn’t care about Carrie enough to follow her to the islands like he’d promised. What had he been doing? Teasing her? The bastard.

  * * *

  “Wong, is that you?” A guy Ty recognized as the wedding photographer’s assistant sat with his back to the door, working on an expensive desktop PC.

  Ty grunted.

  The guy kept working with his back to Ty. “Just in time. The boss is getting antsy. He’s on my ass wanting to know what he got for his money. I’ll be able to get that software embedded in the wedding feed before they get to the vows. Wong?”

  The assistant twirled around in his chair, right into the barrel of Ty’s gun. Ty held the package out to him. “Looking for this?”

  Ty dropped it in his lap. “Plug it in. Get it streaming. Then I’m going to need that encryption software, stego genius.”

  * * *

  A Chinese minister walked to the front of the row of grooms and crowd, which consisted mostly of the gang from Big Auau and some Chinese travel agents. “Welcome most honored guests to this ceremony of great happiness and joy…”

  Still no Ty.

  The minister finished his welcome. A Hawaiian guitarist began playing the opening strains of “Ke Kali Nei Au,” the Hawaiian Wedding Song. The minister lifted his arms, indicating the crowd should stand. The brides began the walk up the red carpet aisle.

  Abi looked glowingly happy and beautiful as she walked up the aisle toward Feng. She smiled at Treflee and nodded ever so slightly as she walked past her. Treflee smiled back, trying not to cry. Weddings were meant for tears, but this one in particular got to Treflee. She and Ty had been that beamingly happy once.

  The couples took their places in front of the official.

  The ceremony began in Chinese without waiting for Ty to show up.

  * * *

  The underground room was shielded as tightly as a top-secret U.S. government facility and carefully concealed, a real marvel of enginee
ring below the old historic plantation house. And even with the electronic whirs and buzzes, exceedingly creepy.

  With the waiter bound and gagged and stuffed into the corner with the photographer’s assistant, Ty made a copy of the encryption software that embedded the analysis model code into the video stream of the happy couples. He’d just sent the file off to Langley when he heard the click of the door opening behind him.

  * * *

  An older Chinese man, a father of one of the grooms, got up and gave a speech, shouting in such a loud, military-drill-sergeant voice he probably interrupted sunset weddings all along the beach.

  Looking bored, Hal pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and checked something on the Internet. By the time he slid his phone back in his pocket, he was grinning as if he owned the world.

  Just confirmed his payoff, no doubt.

  Treflee had to stifle the urge to crane around and look for Ty. Instead she focused on Abi. Where was that man? Her nerves were completely and utterly frayed. Not knowing what was going on was the worst kind of torture. She forced herself not to panic.

  Hal grabbed her hand and squeezed, probably resisting doing a victory punch.

  The father finished his speech and took his seat again. The Chinese official took his place in front of the line of couples and said something to them in Chinese. In unison, the grooms bowed toward their brides, looking like dippy birds as their heads bobbed low toward the sand.

  “The deeper the bow, the deeper the groom’s love for the bride,” Hal, who seemed to know a bit about Chinese weddings, whispered to Treflee.

  “How romantic,” Treflee whispered back, noticing how low Feng bowed to Abi, so low he practically kissed her tiny feet. She was very lucky.

  Where is Ty? Treflee had a vision of Mrs. Ho standing over him with a bloody knife. Speaking of Mrs. Ho, where was she?

  “I wonder where Mrs. Ho is,” she said aloud for Ty’s benefit, hoping to warn him, wherever he was, that Mrs. Ho wasn’t at the wedding. “You’d think the wedding planner would be out here.”