Drew didn’t hide his expression of dismay. Or maybe he purposely put it on to seem convincing. In any case, he looked decidedly like the last thing he wanted was her mother tagging along on the trip.
Later in the car, Drew brought the point up again. “What did you tell your mother? Why was she so happy at dinner?”
“Um…”
“You didn’t tell her about the texts between Sam and Lucy, I get that. What did you say?”
“I did, too. I just mentioned them, gently, like you told me to.”
“How gently?”
She winced. “On a scale of one to ten? Maybe a one, a light, fluffy, pillow-soft one.”
He cursed beneath his breath. “You mean you lied. I’ve created a monster. You’re setting her up to be hurt more later.”
He was right and she felt awful. And had a bit of sympathy for why her parents didn’t tell her the whole truth about her father’s cancer all those years ago.
Drew persisted. “But why was she happy about it?”
“I told her about the brochure I found in Sam’s office and she took it wrong, like he’s trying to improve himself for her.”
“Oh, babe.” He shook his head. “But did you have to ask your mother along to Victoria?”
“I didn’t ask her to join us. I invited her to go with Sam. I heard him mention the fishing trip at work and suspected he was planning to dash off on another of his secret adventures or assignations or whatever they are. I wondered if Mom knew about it. Obviously not.
“I just wanted to put him on the spot and squelch his nefarious plans. How was I supposed to know you had a business trip planned?”
“An anniversary trip,” he said. “You thought I’d forgotten.”
She didn’t correct him. She had thought he’d forgotten. She also got the sense that something more was going on. She turned in her seat and stared at him, forcing herself to ask the clarifying question. “I take it this isn’t really about setting up a brewpub hotel, or our anniversary?”
“Not totally, no,” he said without missing a beat.
“I thought as much. Seems suspicious that a Canadian agent spent the weekend and now you’re off to Canada. Did you mean what you said about taking me along?” She shouldn’t have felt so optimistic. Why was her heart beating out of control?
“Yes.” He cleared his throat as if embarrassed by the emotion he’d let out with that one word. “After what happened just hours ago, I can’t very well leave you alone here. Now I’ll have to keep an eye on both you and your mother.” He sounded exasperated, mostly about her mother coming along. “And you know your mother.”
She paused. She hadn’t considered she’d be putting her mom in danger. “If I’d known what you were up to, I’d never have invited her. You should have told me.”
“I just cleared the trip with Hook House today. I wanted to surprise you with it this evening. And then a few things came up and got in the way.”
Staci frowned and slapped the seat. He had a point. She changed the subject and told him all about her most excellent lying. He didn’t look as impressed as she’d hoped he would. Instead, he looked almost sad. Really, there was no pleasing him.
When they got back to the condo, they found a missive from Noe on the kitchen table. He left a bouquet of flowers as thanks for the excellent hospitality, but he had been suddenly called back to Canada.
Of course he has, Staci thought. She was certain he’d turn up as a brew master at the hotel Drew was taking her to.
And she was convinced Noe’s simple note contained more intel than the obvious, especially considering the way Drew pocketed it.
He turned and stared at her, giving her his charming half grin and putting the flirt back in his voice. “I guess this frees you up to sleep in the guest room?”
She knew Drew well enough to recognize an offer when he made one. She was forgiven for inviting her mother along. “I’ll have to wash the sheets first. I’m too tired tonight. I don’t suppose you have a spare set?” She knew very well he didn’t.
Drew’s grin deepened. His eyes sparkled with lust. “There’s always the sofa.”
She shook her head. “Stay downstairs by all myself, unable to roll over without setting off your supersensitive alarm system or having the cube of safety trap me? No one can hear you scream in that thing.”
“No one can hear you scream upstairs, either.” He leaned over and kissed her neck, sending shivers of pleasure over her. “Guess you’ll just have to sleep with me, then,” he said, not looking at all sorry.
“Guess so. Just be sure to alarm the remote-control self-propelled doorknob. I don’t want my beauty sleep interrupted.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
On Thursday, Drew walked out of the jeweler’s with his wallet several thousand dollars lighter and a karat-and-a-half, white gold, diamond anniversary ring, size five, in his hand. Staci had beautiful, petite fingers. She’d love the diamond anniversary ring. And he’d love to see it on her finger, not thrown back in his face. But did she love him enough to call off the divorce and drop back into his life of intrigue?
Especially after he told her what his mission had been since coming back to town—bring in Sam so that he could be tried for treason. Destroy her mother’s life and her family’s reputation.
He slid into his car, opened the jeweler’s box, and stared at the ring as it sparkled in the sunlight. He owed Staci honesty this time around. No lying about who he was and what he’d done. Or why he’d done it. She’d have to understand he loved his country and freedom, and had to protect the lives of innocent people. He was taking a terrible risk. She may never want to even look at him again, let alone take him back.
And he needed her, pretty little liar that she’d become. He had faith she wouldn’t hide her true feelings for him now. And that’s what scared him even more than one of RIOT’s diabolical plans.
By the time he met her for dinner at the Empress, the mission would be over. With Sam in custody, Staci should be safe from RIOT. And possibly out of Drew’s life forever.
He was putting her in an impossible situation and he knew it. No matter what Staci decided, she’d have to keep his involvement in Sam’s capture a secret from her mom for the rest of her life.
RIOT was another worry and headache. At midnight, they’d initiated a minor disturbance in the equatorial satellite belt.
The Random Institute brochure Staci lifted from Sam had an encrypted message that seemed to confirm what NCS feared—soon the whole world will hear.
Emmett was on his way to Washington, DC, to meet with Congress and the president, hoping to convince the powers-that-be to set up an emergency defense system to protect the satellites and calm fears. But it might already have been too late. NCS had been warning Congress and Homeland Security for months about the danger. Maybe the disturbance would finally jolt them into immediate action.
A satellite launch on a Russian START launch vehicle would cost as little as eight million dollars. Chump change to Random. He could pay for dozens of launches on the same day, day after day, for months. Launching from Russia, North Korea, and Iran until he took over world communications. And it would be hell to stop him.
Damn it all! He had to catch Sam and the Gardener—before the world went crazy and RIOT succeeded in killing Staci.
* * *
Flying by seaplane had its disadvantages. Customs required a passport to cross the Canadian border by air. An enhanced driver’s license wouldn’t do. Which made Staci wonder why she’d spent an extra two hours at the DMV getting one last year. Especially when she already had a passport.
And the tiny seaplane company only allowed her to take one tiny carry-on bag aboard. Ten by sixteen by twenty-four inches, were they kidding? One nice-size handbag and you were done for. Staci barely had room to pack the cling fingers. She really wished she had more spy gadgets on her. For her entire marriage—well, since she’d found out Drew was a spy—she’d dreamed of having Max Smart’s lie pills. Lyi
ng by pill power would have saved her a lot of heartache over the years.
She glanced at Drew, wondering if these few days in Victoria would be the last she’d spend with him. If once this mission was over and the person trying to kill her was caught, he’d disappear somewhere deep undercover in the Middle East so he wouldn’t lose the Farsi that Kyle had taught him years before.
Before he went, she had to tell him everything. Everything—how she’d given away that he was her husband at the resort at Iguazu Falls. And most important, how much she loved him still and always had. She was going to tell him at the dinner he had planned for their anniversary.
She hoped he’d forgive her for her lies. Yes, lies. She was a liar, too, always had been, though she hadn’t realized it, pretending she’d stopped loving him and letting him believe she blamed him for what happened in Ciudad. She hoped, most of all, that maybe he’d give them a second chance.
The seaplane terminal was a dock on Lake Union. Staci stood on the dock, smelling the pungent, fishy lake air as she breathed deeply, trying to ward off anxiety. The lake was calm, ruffled only slightly by the same breeze that played with the hem of her flowing, pink summer top.
A yellow-and-white six-passenger Piston Beaver waited for them, bobbing on the water, looking retro and shiny in the bright May sunlight. Next to her Drew chatted with Jerry the pilot and two men, ostensibly a father and grown son off for a fishing weekend in Victoria. The father looked as if he was in his middle fifties, stout and fit. His son was probably in his late twenties or early thirties and handsome. They didn’t look like father and son at all. Staci was suspicious, wondering if they were more than they seemed. NCS maybe?
She wished Mandy was along so they could gossip and speculate. And Staci had no doubt they’d run into Noe on this little trip. Mandy was infatuated with him. He’d had the consideration to send Mandy flowers, too, when he took off. And a phony explanation about how he was called home unexpectedly for a family emergency.
Mandy, of course, didn’t believe it. She knew Noe was a spy suddenly called away on a mission. But she was happy he’d said good-bye with flowers. It gave her hope she’d see him again.
Staci paid little attention to the men’s conversation. But when the pilot mentioned that the plane had been manufactured in 1967, the very last year of production, she was certain her eyes went wide. The thing was practically an antique.
Staci studied it. Yes, air travel was generally safer than traveling by car. But that only applied to large commercial jetliners, didn’t it? Tiny planes, small seaplanes, old small seaplanes fell out of the sky all the time.
She frowned. This little plane would be easy enough to sabotage. Rig it with a bomb to take out an engine and simulate a bird-strike. Shoot it out of the air. Her imagination ran wild with ideas, fueled by stories Drew had told her of his adventures. Would the FAA even give it a second thought if this Beaver crashed at sea and everyone was lost? Would the person behind the attacks on her risk blowing up a plane?
The pilot caught her frown and shot her a reassuring smile, replying to her unspoken question as if reading her mind. “Don’t worry about our girl, here. Our remanufacturers are the best in the business. This little lady’s safer and better than she was new.”
Drew leaned over to whisper a sweet little nothing in her ear. “My two guys here have gone over the plane. It’s bomb-free. No one’s tampered with it.”
She made a point of laughing nervously and looking at Drew adoringly, like the newly reunited wife she was supposed to be. Little did the pilot know, she had every right to be jumpy.
Just then Sam and her mom arrived, strolling out of the security building and onto the dock, arm in arm. Her mom called out to them and waved.
Staci waved back, resisting the urge to frown at Sam and give him a piece of her mind for hurting her mom by fooling around with Lucy. “There’s the rest of our party.”
Though it did seem to Staci as if whatever had been between Sam and Lucy was over now. At least if the depressed and desperate way Lucy had been acting the last few days at work was any indication. Sam ignored her and Lucy pouted. That’s probably why Lucy had taken Sam’s phone and was trying to spy on him, to see if there was anyone else or any chance of getting him back.
As far as Staci had been able to determine, there wasn’t anyone else and Sam was no longer interested. So she’d decided to let things take their course and let her mom have her happiness and work out her own problems.
The pilot checked their passports and invited them aboard the single-aisle, three-passenger-row plane. Drew sat across from Staci, Linda from Sam, and father from son.
“Every seat’s a window seat. You have to love that.” Staci buckled up and sank into the plush leather, executive-quality seat. This part of being a spy’s wife was heavenly Bond-like. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it.
The pilot popped his head in. “I just got a call from the office. There’s been a slight delay with the luggage. The baggage scanner crapped out on us again. It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes until they get it back up. In the meantime, who’d like an adult beverage?” He rattled off their list of alcohol and poured drinks all around.
“What? No Hook House Ale? Just that Canadian stuff I’m going north to check out?” Drew ribbed the pilot.
“Hey, we’re meaning to rectify that soon, as soon as someone cuts us a good deal.”
Drew laughed. “I’m holding you to it. In the meantime, my wife and I need a glass of champagne. We’re celebrating our anniversary.”
As if on cue, Jerry pulled out a bottle, two champagne glasses, and a gold foil box of chocolates. Drew took the box from him and presented it to Staci. She opened it to find her favorites—dark chocolate soft centers. She was speechless.
Jerry handed them each a glass of champagne.
Drew lifted his glass to hers. “To my beautiful wife. Happy anniversary, baby!”
If only Drew were sincere … if only he wasn’t playing another spy game. He leaned over and kissed her just as the pilot got a call and dashed to the end of the dock, where he was met with a cart full of their luggage.
Being the suspicious type, Staci wondered if Drew wasn’t behind the delay, being extra careful that no one inadvertently brought a bomb on board. How could she resist a man who was so concerned with her safety, remembered their anniversary, and gave her chocolates?
* * *
Drew sat on the water side of the airplane across from Staci. He looked past her and smiled as Jerry the pilot wheeled the luggage cart to the plane.
Drew relaxed, hoping no one had noticed he’d been tense. Never let them see you sweat was the true motto of the Agency. His phone buzzed. He had a text from his agent who’d been scanning their bags. He glanced at it.
Nothing found. Whatever the Fisherman is smuggling to the Gardener must be on his person.
Staci smiled at him. “What’s up?”
He smiled back. “Nothing. Just work wanting to rib me about going on vacation and calling it a business trip.”
“It’s nice to know you’re already making friends.” Staci winked at him. He loved the sight of her.
Sam and Linda sat in front of them. Their seats swiveled. Sam spun around to face them. “Your turn will come, Drew. Get to be my age and you’ll have vacation to burn.”
Was it just Drew’s imagination or did Sam imply Drew likely wouldn’t make it to middle age?
Linda spun around, too, and reached across the aisle to grab her husband’s hand. She smiled at Sam, glowing with the radiance of a relieved woman, one who adored her husband.
The sight turned Drew’s stomach and made him feel more anxious over whether Staci would forgive him for what he was about to do this afternoon.
“Leave him alone, you old codger,” Linda said. “Let him enjoy his youth.”
“Who you calling an old codger?”
Damn, Drew thought, watching them. Their happiness almost glittered. Linda looked happy agai
n, in love with Sam. Back to the old Linda. And Sam?
Watching him closely, Drew thought his high spirits bordered on manic joy, the kind that comes from being about to realize your dreams. What were Sam’s dreams? Phenomenal wealth? Respect? Power?
All of them shone in Sam’s eyes now, to someone in the know, like Drew, magnified nearly to deadly obsessions. Sam had killed for his ambition. Looking at him, Drew got the feeling that murder only enhanced Sam’s euphoria. He was a big man now, playing with the really big men. And he had no idea what a dangerous game he was playing.
If Drew had merely been a stepson-in-law, he might have warned Sam off, told him that RIOT would never let him walk away to enjoy his wealth, true believer or not. That he’d just inked his signature on a contract for a suite in hell. SMASH would hunt him down until they found him, just to keep their perfect record intact. Being a spy, and hardened to the foolish choices men make, Drew only thought about how the current situation affected him.
Barely a week ago, at the start of the mission—was it really only a week ago?—Drew wouldn’t have imagined he’d be trying to save his marriage. Desperately trying to save his marriage. He’d thought then that if Staci discovered what his real mission was—to bring in her stepfather and try him for treason—it would only cement their divorce. Freeing Drew up to try to move on, cutting off any chance of giving in to any lingering temptation to win Staci back.
Now the very mission threatened his plans.
No matter what Staci thought about Sam, she’d put her mother’s happiness first. Staci was logical and pragmatic enough to understand Sam was a dangerous traitor who had to be brought in and stopped. But emotional enough that Drew worried she’d never forgive him for being the one to do it, and for planning it all along, and using her as part of the scheme.
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