“Spider’s an analyst, not an agent,” I explained. “He’s the most brilliant computer guy I’ve ever met and the sweetest kid ever, but he has no stomach for anything else. Linda’s a nurse at the secured wing of the hospital, and all she knows is that I sometimes show up there with unexplained injuries and nobody asks questions.”
“Ah,” Moonbeam repeated. “Well, at least your perimeter surveillance should give us enough advance warning to… make arrangements… without compromising our cover. Do you have any suspects yet?”
Shit, what kind of useless agent was I? Figuring out who had it in for Spider and Linda would be a hell of a lot more useful than running around reacting to threats.
“No, that would imply that I actually had a brain and knew how to use it,” I said bitterly.
“Oh, Storm Cloud Dancer, don’t be hard on yourself.” Moonbeam reached over to squeeze my hand. “The kidnapping must be consuming a great deal of your time and energy, and I’m sure you have other official business as well.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “But Spider and Linda don’t have any idea who might want to cause problems for them, and I don’t know their circle of acquaintances well enough to figure it out. The wrecked wedding dress sounds like a jealous woman to me; I can’t see a guy doing that kind of thing. But burning down the community hall and sabotaging Spider’s car are pretty serious stuff. And not really the kind of thing the average woman would do.”
“Perhaps not a jealous woman. Perhaps a jealous gay man,” Moonbeam said thoughtfully. “Spider’s best man Tim Moorcroft has a tremendous crush on Spider. When I asked Spider about it, he said they’ve been inseparable since childhood, and when Tim came out of the closet he made a play for Spider. Spider turned him down with no hard feelings and he says they’ve remained the best of friends, but… perhaps the ‘no hard feelings’ was only on Spider’s side.”
“Oh. Shit…” I stared at her, my heart sinking at the memory of Tim’s agitation when Spider collapsed at the wedding shower. And Tim had cast suspicion on Tyler Brock for spiking Spider’s drink. What if that had just been a ruse to divert attention from himself?
“I hope that’s not the case,” Moonbeam said. “But we’ll keep an eye on him nonetheless. Those closest to someone are the most likely to cause them pain.”
“Yeah. Um… speaking of that…” I swallowed a mouthful of tea, hoping it would provide inspiration. “Um… I talked to Cosmic River Stone again this morning. I think he might be willing to try again.”
Moonbeam sighed and laid down her panini with a gesture of futility. “To what end? You know we can’t budge on the Earth Spirit. It’s a fundamental part of our cover, and it’s a major stumbling block between us and our son. Perhaps we should simply… let it be.” Sadness clouded her eyes. “For the past several months we’ve been able to maintain cordial conversations over the phone. A long-distance relationship is better than nothing.”
“But he might be willing to compromise…” I began.
“There is no compromise, Storm Cloud Dancer, and you know it,” she said firmly. “Innocent lives could be at stake, and we simply can’t risk it.”
Goddammit, just as stubborn as her son. I stared at her in frustration.
“Tell him!” The words burst out of my mouth without obtaining clearance from my brain. “Just tell him the truth. It’ll solve everything.”
“Absolutely not.” The steel was back in her expression, her lips set in a firm line. “He’s a civilian. That would be a gross breach of security and a betrayal of everything we’ve been doing for the past forty years.”
“He can keep a secret,” I insisted. “I’d trust him with my life.”
Moonbeam gave me a level stare that reminded me so forcefully of Stemp that I had to suppress a shudder.
“If it was only Karma Wolf Song’s and my lives at stake, I might,” she said in a voice as unyielding as stone. “But Charles Randall Stemp made his choice twenty-five years ago, and now my primary responsibility is to the members of our commune. Though I might be willing to gamble with my own life, I cannot and will not gamble with theirs.”
“But…”
The truth struggled to escape but I clamped my teeth on it. I was almost certain it was safe for them to know about each other, but ‘almost’ wasn’t good enough. With innocent lives at stake, I couldn’t take the chance.
Moonbeam gave me one of her unfocused inspections, her brow furrowing in concentration. “You truly believe in him,” she said softly. “You struggle to trust anyone, but yet you trust my son implicitly in this.”
I stared at her in hope, feverishly visualizing sincerity billowing into my aura. “Yes, I really do.”
Her wistful blue gaze met mine. “I would like to believe in him the way you do, but I’m afraid you’re simply blinded by your affection for him.”
“What? God, no!” I jerked back, then hurriedly tried to smooth out my expression of revulsion. “I mean, um… I don’t… we don’t…” I sucked in a deep breath. “Just no. I trust him in a p-” I bit off the telltale phrase ‘professional capacity’ and substituted, “… pig’s eye.”
“Oh, my dear.” Moonbeam reached over to pat my hand with a motherly gesture while amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Now you’re just lying to yourself.”
I sighed and gathered my scattered wits. “You’re right; I didn’t really mean that. I do trust him… in some ways. But we’re definitely not interested in each other.”
She nodded wisely and began to speak just as my burner phone vibrated.
A wash of relief tempered with worry suffused me, and I held up a hand to stop her. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’ll be John or Arnie, and I really need to talk to them.” I whisked out the phone and punched the button.
“Aydan, do you have time to talk?” Kane’s tone would have sounded casual to anyone listening in, but I decoded his question without difficulty. He had secured the line and was checking to be sure I could speak freely.
“I can talk,” I replied. “But you have to go in to the Department right away-”
“Later,” he said tersely. “We’ve completed our interviews. Nothing definitive. Serena’s ex knew both Buck Murphy and his brother Scot. They belonged to the same archery league but didn’t socialize together. Two of the other exes shared a mutual friend, but none of the other exes knew the friend, and in any case Mayweather had cleared him in the initial investigation. None of the mothers had any friends in common.”
“Shit.” I slumped back in my chair. “Is Mayweather treating Buck Murphy as a homicide?”
“Unknown.” Frustration vibrated in Kane’s voice. “If he is, it’s a separate investigation that he won’t share with me. Can you find out?”
I did a rapid mental calculation. “Um… probably. I have a couple of things I can’t put off, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. It’ll probably be after three o’clock-”
“The sooner the better,” Kane interrupted. “I’ll email you a list of the friends’ names, too. Hellhound and I will start digging into them right away. They need to be cross-referenced to see if we’re missing any connection, and you can probably do that faster and better than we can.”
“Um… likely not; I’m good at straight searches, but cross-referencing-”
“Just do your best,” he interrupted again. “Call me as soon as you can.”
“Okay. But go in right away, it’s-” A click sounded in my ear, and I finished, “…urgent…” into dead air.
Blowing out a breath of irritation mixed with worry, I dialled Hellhound’s cell phone.
He picked up immediately with his usual gruff, “Helmand.”
“Hi, Arnie,” I said cautiously, wondering if I’d get the same brusque treatment from him.
“Oh, hey, darlin’.” His voice warmed. “How ya doin’?”
In the background, Kane’s anxious voice demanded, “Does she have something?”
“How the hell do I know? Lemme get
two fuckin’ words in, an’ I’ll ask her.” Hellhound sounded uncharacteristically testy, and I could only imagine the pressure-cooker atmosphere at the other end of the line.
“I don’t have anything new,” I said hurriedly. “Sorry. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Ya don’t hafta apologize, darlin’.” His voice went muffled as though he’d moved the phone away from his face to speak to Kane. “She ain’t got anythin’ yet. How ‘bout ya get started on that list, an’ I’ll be right back.” Some rustling and a quiet thump signalled his retreat from Kane’s condo, and moment later he drew a deep breath. “Okay, darlin’, sorry ‘bout that. So how ya doin’?”
For a shaky moment the caring in his voice nearly made me pour out all my troubles, but I locked them inside with a deep breath of my own. “I’m okay. Sounds like things are pretty tense there, though.”
The click-clang of the outer security door carried to my ear, and the sound of wind rushing over the speaker softened the edges of Hellhound’s rasp as he went outdoors, lowering his voice. “He’s losin’ it, Aydan. I couldn’t get him to take any sleepin’ pills last night. He’s so fuckin’ bull-headed he won’t listen to me mosta the time anyway, an’ now he’s so fuckin’ sleep-deprived he’s even worse. Can ya talk to him? He’s gotta get some sleep or he’s gonna crack up.”
I sighed. “I can try, but he barely let me get a word in edgewise. And he really needs to go in for his debriefing. They’re starting to think he’s gone rogue.”
“Shit! Fuckin’ dumbass, I told him…” Hellhound broke off and demanded, “How long does he have?”
“I don’t know. It’s getting dicey. If he won’t go in for the debriefing, at least make him email a written request for personal leave.”
“I’ll try an’ get him to do it right away. But he’s so fuckin’ squirrelly right now…”
Worry squeezed my heart. “What do you mean, ‘squirrelly’? He’s not taking uppers or something to stay awake, is he?”
“Fuck, I dunno. Never thought a’ that…” Hellhound paused, and I imagined him consulting the endless movie-strip of memories that wound through his brain. “I don’t think so,” he said after a moment. “Usually if a guy’s jacked up on somethin’ ya can see it in his eyes; the pupils go down to nothin’. He’s shakin’, but not enough for drugs. It’s prob’ly just caffeine. He’s suckin’ back coffee like it’s goin’ outta style.”
“Great; so he’s jittery, irritable as hell, not listening to reason, and not sleeping.” I pondered that for a few seconds. “I don’t think he’ll listen to me if I tell him to sleep, either. Maybe if we were both there, or if I got mad at him again… but I hate to do that in case he shuts us out. Well, more than he has already.” Hellhound grunted agreement, and I added, “Can you slip him a couple of sleeping pills in a cup of coffee or something?”
Hellhound let out a bark of mirthless laughter. “Nah. Tried that last night. He could taste ‘em, an’ he came damn close to kickin’ the shit outta me for it.”
My heart clutched. “Arnie, are you… safe? Do you think he might get violent with you?”
Across the table from me, Moonbeam sat forward abruptly, concern pinching her face.
“Nah, don’t worry, darlin’.” Hellhound’s voice was full of reassurance that I only partly believed. “Remember, we go back a helluva long way. I’ve seen him at his worst, an’ he’d never raise his hand against a brother. He was just stressed out, was all.”
“Okay…” I swallowed hard. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.”
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked.
“Yeah, I crashed last night. Got a good six hours. How ‘bout you?”
I hesitated, but decided not to go into my eventful night. “Yeah. Should I come down there tonight?”
“I dunno,” Hellhound said after a moment’s thought. “If I thought ya could talk some sense into Kane, I’d say yeah, but I dunno if he’d even listen to ya. An’ didn’t ya say ya had a job tomorrow? Where d’ya hafta be for that?”
“I have to start here in Silverside. But I’ll plan to come down tonight and we can gang up on him then. Maybe he’ll listen if he realized I’m worried enough about him to drive four hours round trip.”
“Fuck, I hope so.” Hellhound’s tired exhalation carried clearly over the speaker. “But call me before ya come. No sense drivin’ all this way if he ain’t gonna listen to ya anyway.”
“Try to guilt him into sleeping,” I urged. “Make a big deal about all the driving I’ll have to do if he won’t cooperate.” I swallowed a sigh. “But he probably doesn’t care.”
Hellhound’s voice softened. “He cares, darlin’. Lemme talk to him, an’ gimme a call tonight before ya leave.”
“Okay.” I pressed the phone a little closer to my cheek. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Well, I better get back up there. Ya gonna have time to look at the names this afternoon?”
“I’ll make time. I have a… some stuff to do first, but I’ll get started after two-thirty.”
“Stuff?” Concern tightened his voice. “How dangerous is this ‘stuff’?”
“I wish I knew.” I sighed. “Talk to you soon.”
“Okay…” he said slowly. “Be safe, darlin’. Love ya.”
He disconnected before I could reciprocate, but I knew he didn’t need to hear me say it. I lowered the phone slowly, cherishing the brief glow of comfort from our conversation despite my worry for Kane.
“Is Blessed Soul Dream safe?” Moonbeam inquired worriedly. “I have great faith in Sunstar Desert Hawk, but while a clear red aura usually indicates passion and physical energy, it can transmute to anger and violence under extreme stress.”
“Arnie says he’s okay.” I brushed a fingertip over the phone, silently hoping it was true. “I… believe him. I think. But… if John ever attacked him, it would break his heart. And I know Arnie wouldn’t fight back. He could; he’s a deadly fighter… but he wouldn’t. He’d just take it, even if it killed him…” I swallowed hard and squared my shoulders. “But John would never do that.”
“I certainly hope you’re right.”
We applied ourselves to the remains of our lunch with efficiency if not enthusiasm, and a few minutes later I gulped down the last of my croissant and rose. “Okay, I’ve got to get back to work. Good luck at the farm. If you need anything just rummage around until you find it. I don’t have any secrets out there. I’ll bring pizza home for supper tonight.”
“I don’t mind cooking…” Moonbeam began, but I waved her to silence.
“No, that’s okay. I’ve been craving pizza for a while, and I already promised Spider I was bringing it. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Very well, then.” She gave me a once-over with that too-perceptive gaze. “May the Earth Spirit protect you, Storm Cloud Dancer.”
“Thanks. You, too,” I muttered, and hurried out before I could admit to exactly how much divine intervention I was likely to need.
Chapter 34
Back at Sirius Dynamics again, I skimmed the daunting list of names Kane had sent me. God, there were over two hundred. And with only forty-five minutes left before my meeting with Labelle, I didn’t dare go into the virtual reality network in case I lost track of time.
Not to mention there was the small issue of using Department time and resources for a case I’d been officially forbidden to tackle.
I contented myself with running the names through the law-enforcement database, which technically wasn’t any less illicit but at least it wasn’t classified technology and I wasn’t using anyone’s time but my own. Knowing how feeble an excuse that was, I kept my office door closed and twitched guiltily every time I heard footsteps in the hallway outside.
Finally at a quarter after two I logged out and headed for the lobby, switching to yoga breathing in an effort to calm my pounding pulse. Absently acknowledging the security guard’s pleasantries while I signed out, I focused on positive thoughts for all I
was worth.
This meeting would go well. Labelle had to believe my cover this time. Not even an undercover cop could make a gunman vanish without a trace. He’d mention weapons or money; I’d respond with wary interest so he didn’t get suspicious; and we’d hammer out a deal that would make both him and Stemp happy. The chain of command would be pacified and I’d be able to pour all my effort into helping Kane. And I’d still keep my ass out of jail.
Just keep thinking that…
I sank into one of the wrought-iron chairs outside the ice cream shop and tried to look as though I hadn’t a care in the world.
It didn’t work.
Despite my best efforts to sit still, my toes wiggled inside my runners and I picked at a ragged cuticle until I caught myself and firmly clasped my hands. That lasted for about thirty seconds, when the breeze wafted a strand of hair across my nose.
I smoothed it back and rubbed the tickle away, but moments later I had to swipe at another tickle on the other side of my face. Then my twitching nerves generated prickles of sensation on my left arm. Moments after I rubbed the spot, more nervy prickles erupted on my leg.
After a few minutes of trying to scratch without looking as though I was infested with a particularly obnoxious case of lice, I sprang to my feet and hurried into the ice cream shop. A nice big scoop of chocolate-peanut-butter ice cream gave me something to do with my hands, and I resumed my seat outside and concentrated on devouring the ice cream before it could melt in the heat.
I had finished the last bite and was beginning to wonder what else I could do to occupy myself when I spotted Labelle approaching across the parking lot.
Showtime.
I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Be Arlene Widdenback, badass arms dealer…
He strode up to my table and jerked his chin impatiently. “Let’s walk.”
I rose and ambled down the sidewalk, forcing him to shorten his stride. “What’s so goddamn important that you had to meet today?” I asked.
“One of my employees was following you yesterday,” he ground out.
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