I sighed. “Okay.”
“’Til tomorrow, then.” The connection clicked closed in my ear.
At least I didn’t have to stay up and connect via the laptop tonight. I yawned hugely. Good thing. I needed the sleep.
Retracing my steps, I fought to stay alert. The thought of my bed beckoned like a promise of paradise and I forced myself to keep checking for heat signatures every few minutes.
When I neared the encampment, I detoured once more to Moonbeam and Karma’s tent. Reassured by the snores echoing through the woods as much as by my thermal display, I turned away smiling. I’d just check Nichele’s tent on my way by, and then glorious sleep would be mine.
Stepping softly along the path, I studied the cluster of glows that formed the main encampment. None moved and I eased out a breath of contentment as I got closer. Everybody was snug in their beds, and soon I would be, too…
My veins turned to ice.
Nichele’s tent was dark and cold.
Chapter 22
Heart hammering, I scanned wildly around me but saw no other heat signatures besides the occupied tents. I fought for calm. Maybe there was a simple explanation. Maybe Nichele had just gone to the latrine.
Not likely. I’d only been gone for an hour, and she had sounded pretty serious about staying in her tent.
Okay, maybe Orion had dropped by and she had succumbed to temptation and gone to his tent…
My fear mounted. Orion and Ratboy were friends. Oh, God, what if both of them had come for her?
Oh, God, oh God…
Stay calm. Eliminate the most likely possibilities first.
I turned and fled back along the path.
The latrines were all unoccupied.
Gasping for breath, I shot a desperate glance around me. Dammit, I needed a vantage point. Skidmark’s bench would work, but I’d waste precious time getting up there and even more rushing back the way I came. Unless they were holding her at the garage…
Sudden realization hit me and I swore at my own stupidity and checked Orion’s tracker. Still in the vicinity of the renter’s camp. He could have come over and snatched Nichele and taken her back there, but it seemed unlikely.
But I still had no idea where Ratboy was…
A squeak snapped my head around, but it was only one of the swings from the playground next to the building. As I watched, the empty seat swung back and forth in the night breeze, emitting another desolate squeak like the ghost of a child’s laughter.
An idea dawned.
The kids had been playing when I’d passed by at suppertime, and the braver ones had found their way onto the dangerously pitched roof of the building. The admonitions of their parents ringing in my ears, I hurried for the climbing frame.
I was up to the top of it in a moment, reaching for the naked limb of the overhanging arbutus tree. I hesitated, hands locked on the branch. For the kids, the dangerous part had been leaping from the top of the climbing frame to catch the branch. It was an easy reach for me, but would it hold my weight?
Clenching my teeth, I lifted myself slowly from the climbing frame, my feet leaving the solid structure with reluctance. The branch deflected but didn’t make any ominous cracking noises, so I swung my feet up and traversed to the roof like an ungainly sloth.
When my back contacted the roof I squirmed around to get my feet under me before crouching, my muscles quivering with effort and adrenaline.
Leaning forward and trying not to think about the drop below, I cautiously scaled the slope, my fingertips scraping the rough asphalt shingles in a fruitless attempt to find a secure handhold. When I reached the peak at last I sucked in a breath of relief and straddled it. Scanning again with thermal imaging, I panted as quietly as possible.
No distinct heat signatures were apparent near the garage, though there was a diffuse glow from the building. Probably accumulated heat from the day’s sun. Orion’s and my tents were both dark and cold.
To the north, I glimpsed scattered glows from the renters’ encampment but nothing closer. A bright movement caught my eye as I panned around to the south, but the heat signature was close enough for me to identify a graceful neck and four slender legs tapering into cool blue tones. Only a deer.
Dammit, where could Nichele be?
I rose awkwardly to my feet and hands and followed the ridge to the transverse peak that housed the big fieldstone chimney. I had just shuffled onto the peak with shaking legs when a shrill voice galvanized my muscles into a spastic jerk that nearly toppled me off the roof.
“Get lost! Go on, scat!”
A flashlight beam raked the shingles beside me and I flung myself behind the shelter of the chimney, scrabbling for purchase on the slope.
“Scram! And don’t come back!”
My heart gave a painful thump when I identified Nichele’s voice. Her flashlight scoured the roof and I huddled closer to the chimney, shaking and trying not to hyperventilate.
Of course. She’d been cold and she hated tenting. It would be the most natural thing in the world for her to abandon her tent for a warm berth beside one of the woodstoves.
Nichele apparently decided that the animal on the roof had fled, and her flashlight disappeared back into the building.
Relief weakened my knees and I fought to stay upright, hugging the chimney like a life preserver. Gradually my heart rate slowed, but fatigue and nerves conspired to magnify the tremors of my legs. The chilly breeze swirled around me, tempting my overworked muscles to cramp.
The ground looked very far away, and I swallowed hard. All of a sudden I didn’t appreciate the clarity of night vision quite so much.
How the hell was I supposed to get down from the roof? As soon as my boots scraped the shingles Nichele would come running out with her flashlight again. And I couldn’t think of any plausible excuse if she caught me squatting up here like a constipated gargoyle.
A spiteful sprinkling of cold rain spurred me into motion. If I didn’t move before the shingles got wet and slick, I wouldn’t need an excuse; I’d just need a body bag.
Or worse, I’d need a full-body cast and an excuse.
I coaxed my quivering muscles into motion, bending double to walk my hands along the peak and follow with my feet as quietly as possible.
Head down, ass up like a particularly uncoordinated inchworm, I crept across the ridge to the junction and turned the corner onto the final stretch of the roof peak. Too afraid to look anywhere but in front of me, I sent a silent prayer skyward that there was nobody watching with night vision right now. A hysterical urge to giggle seized me at the thought, but a moment later the giggle turned into a squeak of terror when my foot slipped.
Sprawled gasping across the ridge on my stomach, my lips framed the words ‘please-don’t-look-please-don’t-look’, the supplication not quite audible in my panting.
If Nichele came out now, I’d be busted for sure. Just stay put, Nichele. Please-don’t-look-please-don’t-look…
Either the gods or Nichele granted my prayer. No flashlight burst from the building below and after long minutes of immobility I finally dared to move again, turning over to inch feet-first down the slope toward the arbutus branch.
Most of my body was below the peak when a movement in my peripheral vision made me freeze. Turning my head slowly and praying, I spotted Orion striding along the path, coming from the direction of the renters’ land.
He wore night-vision goggles.
Paralyzed, I hunched on the roof, watching him survey the forest around him as he walked.
Oh God, if he looked up he’d see my head above the peak of the roof, topped with the damning night-vision headset.
My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he’d hear it. His gaze skimmed over the side of the building and I stopped breathing entirely, but he kept walking without a change of expression.
Thank God, he must have been using regular night vision. If he’d had thermographic goggles, my head would have glowed above the roof peak like a
spotlight.
He vanished around the corner of the path and I sucked in a breath at last, shaking from head to toe. Goddammit, if I got off this roof and into my bed unscathed and undetected I’d consider it a miracle right up there with the parting of the Red Sea.
Which was actually quite apropos, since it was absolutely pissing rain by now.
I eased down the slope, hands widespread on the wet shingles, feet shuffling in tiny steps. When I reached the branch at last, I hooked my legs over it but my icy hands could barely grip the slippery surface where the tree had shed its bark in winter. I managed a short hand-over-hand progress before realizing I wasn’t going to make it.
Stifling my yelp of panic, I let my legs swing down. My hands slipped off the wet branch an instant later and I fell for terrifying seconds. Then my feet thudded into the deep pea gravel of the playground, the shock rolling up my spine as I overbalanced to sprawl on my back.
Spread-eagled on the ground, I whimpered in sheer relief. The pea gravel had done its job, cushioning my landing. None of my body parts hurt excessively. Even my night-vision headset was still intact and operating, which was more than I could say for my composure.
I lay there quivering on my back until rain started to run up my nose. Then I hauled myself to my feet and tottered toward the path.
Halfway to my tent I stumbled to a halt.
What if Orion was lurking outside again? If he had the same kind of headset as I did, he’d be able to spot me as soon as I saw him. I could take off my headset and innocently approach my tent, pretending to have just finished my visit with Nichele, but a simple conversation with Nichele would prove I was lying.
Undecided, I shuffled my feet for a few moments before making up my mind. He probably already knew my tent had been empty late at night before, so it shouldn’t make him any more suspicious of me tonight.
And his scan of the forest had been the casual survey of a man travelling from point A to point B with nothing on his mind but his destination. So whatever he might think I was doing during my nocturnal ramblings, he obviously didn’t consider me a threat.
I’d probably gotten away with it tonight, but I couldn’t keep running around half the night and still function during the day. There had to be a better way to keep everybody under surveillance. And dammit, if I was a real secret agent I’d know what it was.
Too bad I was only a bookkeeper.
Heaving a long sigh, I turned and plodded back into the forest on aching legs. I might be in far over my head, but at least I knew where to get some advice. And by the time I got back, Orion should be safely asleep in his tent.
After fifteen minutes of walking I sank onto a soggy fallen log with a groan. Soaked to the skin and shivering, I scanned for heat signatures before pulling out a burner phone.
My trembling fingers barely navigated the tiny keys. When I got the number punched in I hunched over, my free arm wrapped around myself while I counted the rings on the other end.
One. Two. Three.
“Come on, Arnie, pick up,” I muttered.
Four.
Expecting his voicemail, I was about to hang up when a sleepy voice growled, “Helmand.”
Hellhound’s irritable rasp sounded like the sweet music of salvation. I hugged the phone closer, tears of exhaustion and relief prickling my eyes. “Hi, Arnie, it’s me. Aydan,” I added just in case he wasn’t quite awake.
“What’s wrong?” If he hadn’t been awake before, he definitely was now. His words vibrated with tension.
“Nothing. I’m really sorry to call you in the middle of the night…”
His rush of released breath cut across my apology. “No problem, darlin’. Good to hear your voice.” He chuckled, the deep rough-edged sound tickling my eardrum and bringing a vivid image of his bulky muscular body reclining on the pillows, warm lamplight softening the battered contours of his face. “Ya know how many dumbfuck salesmen I’ve talked to in the last four months?” he asked. “Every time I see ‘private caller’ on my call display I pick up in case it’s you.”
“Aw, thanks, Arnie.” I drew an unsteady breath and swallowed the lump in my throat. “It’s really good to hear your voice, too. I miss you.”
His voice deepened to a caressing rumble. “Miss ya, too, darlin’. My bed’s pretty damn cold right now. Wanna warm me up with some sexy talk?”
I tightened my arm around my shivering body. “More than you can imagine. But that’s not actually why I’m calling.”
His teasing tone vanished. “Somethin’s wrong, ain’t it? Tell me.”
“Well…” I hesitated, then let it all pour out. “You know how I’m supposed to be protecting Moonbeam and Karma and it seemed like everything was okay?” I kept talking over his rumble of assent. “Well, now there are three guys I’m worried about, and in the mean time Nichele has showed up and one of the guys has a hate on for me and I’m afraid he’ll hurt Nichele, but-”
“Hang on.” His usual rasp had developed an edge. “This guy wants to hurt ya? Tell me who he is. Ya got your gun?”
“I’ve always got my gun,” I hastened to reassure him. “I don’t know his real name so I’ve been calling him Ratboy. I’m not too worried about him hurting me. He’s just a weaselly little shit, but he could probably hurt Nichele. I’m just afraid he might be friends with another guy I’m worried about, Orion. If they’re friends it could be bad because Orion had hand restraints in his pocket the time he was in my tent, and tonight I found out he has a night-vision headset-”
“Shit, Aydan!” A rustle and thump on the other end of the line sounded as though Hellhound had lunged out of bed. “An’ you’re there by yourself? Why the hell didn’t Stemp send ya a team? Who’s the third guy you’re worried about?” Muffled thumps formed a backdrop to his words.
“This is all just a gut feeling,” I protested. “None of them have actually done anything that looks threatening to Moonbeam or Karma so Stemp doesn’t have any reason to send a team. The third guy’s name is Skidmark and I’m pretty sure he’s harmless, it’s just-”
“Fuck that, Aydan. If you’re sayin’ some guy wants to hurt ya an’ his buddy’s sneakin’ into your tent with handcuffs, that ain’t harmless!”
“No, I didn’t mean that, I just…” The thumps on the other end of the line had given way to the click of computer keys. I changed the subject. “Arnie, what are you doing? I didn’t mean to call you up and worry you, I just wanted to ask your advice on how to keep an eye on everybody. I’ve got a tracking unit on Orion, but-”
“Ya want my advice?” He sounded grim. “Call Stemp an’ tell him ya need backup, right fuckin’ now.”
“But, Arnie, I can’t justify that and neither can he. I haven’t identified any positive threat to his parents and even if I had, this isn’t really an official mission. I’m supposed to be on admin leave and the only reason he can run it through the department at all is because there’s a tiny chance our last op might have blown his cover. He’s already pushing the limits by sending me secured phones and classified gear. If he throws a team at this and it turns out to be nothing, he’ll be in deep shit.”
“I don’t give a flyin’ fuck about Stemp’s problems. If your gut feelin’ is right an’ ya end up gettin’ dead, he’ll be in really deep shit for losin’ a good agent,” Hellhound countered. “An’ then I’d hafta rip his fuckin’ head off, too.” He paused. “Okay. I got the eight-fifteen A.M. flight, gets me in at ten-thirty. I oughta make it there a little after noon tomorrow. Gimme directions to the commune.”
“Oh, no, you’re busy with your P.I. cases, I didn’t mean for you to-”
“Darlin’,” he interrupted. “You’re wastin’ your breath, an’ you’re wastin’ time. It’s already done. Just gimme the directions.”
I let out a breath, my aching muscles relinquishing their tension for the first time in days. “Thanks, Arnie. It’s going to be good to have you here.”
I had just disconnected after giving him the directions when
the distant clanging of the Spirit bells made me groan.
Chapter 23
“Fuck, really?” I demanded of no one in particular as I jogged through the dark forest, my night vision headgear thudding my forehead while a burgeoning headache thumped my skull from the inside.
Deciding to use my breath to better purpose, I concentrated on pacing myself. I was probably a little less than a mile away from the commune, so if I kept up a good pace I should make it to the main building in ten minutes or so. Since everybody else would be waking from a dead sleep and throwing on clothes before running to the Calling, I’d probably arrive around the same time as the last of the stragglers.
That would look normal, except that my clothes were soaked and I’d be red-faced and sweating by the time I got there. But what the hell, everybody would be half-asleep anyway, and it was dark. They probably wouldn’t notice. And it was still raining, so I wouldn’t be the only one looking like a drowned rat.
I spared a moment of envy for Nichele. She’d be warm and dry in the main building, all set to meditate in comfort. I hoped she’d brought a jacket with her this time. She’d need it for our hike to the field.
I groaned at the thought of another hike and forced my legs to keep moving. God, if I lay down to meditate I might never get up again.
A sudden report made me duck and leap sideways. Panting with the extra exertion and adrenaline, I shook my head at my own idiocy and kept jogging, too winded to even swear. The fireworks continued in a sporadic exchange, getting louder as I neared the commune.
I glimpsed some distant heat signatures hurrying in the direction of the main building and halted to stuff my headset into my pocket. Orion likely wouldn’t be wearing his, but I couldn’t take the chance.
Slowed to the careful pace required by my tiny flashlight, I had almost regained my breath by the time I trotted up to accept my mat from Aurora. A few other people crowded in behind me, so I didn’t even merit a disapproving look.
Spy High Page 18