Spy, Spy Away

by Diane Henders

  “…and if something happens to you there, who’s going to call 911? The cat?” Kane demanded. “The doctor said a second head trauma could be fatal. If you lose your balance or pass out and hit your head-”

  “I ain’t a fuckin’ china doll, an’ I ain’t a fuckin’ idiot. I’ll be careful at home, but I ain’t stayin’ in this fuckin’ boneyard, an’ that’s final!”

  His voice was rising, and I stroked his hand. “Arnie, just stay calm. Don’t upset yourself…”

  “I ain’t upsettin’ myself, this fuckin’ place is-”

  “Good morning.”

  We all twitched simultaneously, Kane and I whipping around to face the speaker behind us. The white-coated man took a half-step backward, and I had a feeling he might have paled if his skin hadn’t been coffee-coloured to start with.

  “I’m Dr. Sanchez,” he said firmly. “Is there a problem?”

  “No problem,” Hellhound rasped. “I’m leavin’. Gimme the papers an’ I’ll sign myself out.”

  The doctor hesitated exactly long enough to take in Hellhound’s fearsome scowl and clenched fists. “I’ll send a nurse with the paperwork,” he said calmly. “You’ll need to avoid exertion and stimulation for at least the next twenty-four hours. No reading, no computer work, nothing mentally taxing. Lots of rest. Even if you’re feeling better today, don’t assume your injury has healed. Take it easy for at least a couple of weeks, longer if you’re still having symptoms. Brain injuries are known to cause cumulative damage, so don’t do anything else that might cause any impact to your head.”

  Hellhound nodded, the picture of cooperation now that he was getting his own way.

  The doctor returned his nod with a slight smile and turned to go. Kane shot Hellhound an exasperated look and followed, and I hurriedly tagged onto the tail end of the parade.

  In the corridor, Kane began, “Doctor, do you really think-”

  “That discharging him is the ideal course of action? No.” The doctor shrugged. “But it is the best course of action for him. We want to avoid sedation after a head injury, and he is becoming increasingly agitated simply from being here. If he stays, he’ll need to be sedated. If you can convince him to rest and relax at home, that will ultimately be more beneficial. But someone should stay with him, at least for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “I’ll stay with him. But what if he falls or something?” I asked. “And what should I watch for?”

  “If he falls, you call the ambulance. Watch for symptoms like confusion, double vision, dizziness, intense headache, vomiting, excessive drowsiness or loss of consciousness…” The doctor trailed off at the sight of my face and offered me a sympathetic look. “Those things are unlikely unless he reinjures his head. To be truthful, if he stayed in the hospital, we would only be monitoring him anyway. He’s not missing any treatment by leaving now.”

  “All right. Thank you.” Kane looked only slightly appeased when we turned back toward the room.

  Half an hour later, I hovered nervously beside Arnie while he limped toward the door. Just as we stepped into the corridor, Kane strode up pushing an empty wheelchair.

  “Sit,” he snapped.

  Hellhound bristled, and the two men locked eyes for a long moment before Hellhound gave a tiny nod and sank into the chair. I drew a breath of relief and followed them down the hall. No further debate ensued while we got him installed in Kane’s passenger seat, and I returned the wheelchair to the hospital before shivering into my frosty car.

  To my surprise, Kane’s Expedition was idling in front of Arnie’s condo building when I drove up. I parked in one of the visitor’s slots and trotted across the parking lot, worry cinching my empty stomach tight. Kane’s window hummed down and he explained, “I want you to stay with him while I park.”

  “For shit’s sake,” Hellhound groused. “It ain’t like I’m gonna fall down in the ten feet between here an’ the door.”

  “See that you don’t,” Kane retorted, and jerked his chin toward the passenger side.

  I hurried over and slid an arm around Arnie when he stepped cautiously out of the truck. He chuckled. “Darlin’, what d’ya think you’re gonna do if I fall? You’re just gonna get squished when I land on ya.”

  “As long as I make a soft spot for you to land on, that’s good enough for me.”

  He shook his head, smiling, but his arm was heavy on my shoulders while we moved slowly to the door. We waited in the vestibule while Kane parked and strode back, and when Hellhound unlocked the door, the three of us turned for the elevator without discussion.

  At the apartment, I poised myself to thwart Hooker’s escape while Hellhound turned the key. I was straightening with a squirming armful of fur when Miss Lacey’s door popped open and she hurried across the hall.

  “Arnold! Young man, didn’t I warn you you’d come to a bad end one day? You need to mend your ways!” Her severity was belied by the brightness in her eyes. She reached up, her lips trembling. He stooped and she touched his cheek with one thin hand, her fragile fingertips like white porcelain against the coarseness of his beard and bruised face. “Oh, Arnold, I am so very glad you’re all right,” she whispered.

  “Thanks, Miz Lacey. Sorry to worry ya.” His bulky arms closed around her as delicately as if shielding a butterfly, and I hid the fullness of my own eyes behind Hooker’s long fur.

  After a moment, Miss Lacey drew herself up into her usual arrow-straight posture. “Well, young man? Where are your manners? Were you planning to introduce us?” She turned regally to face Kane, and Hellhound tossed me a wink behind her back.

  “Miz Lacey, this’s John Kane. My brother.” The word was firmly emphasized, and Kane smiled.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Lacey.” He bowed over her hand, and Miss Lacey coloured, her free hand fluttering to her lips.

  “How very nice to meet you, too, Mr. Kane,” she replied. “I presume you are half-brothers? I see no family resemblance.”

  “No biological relation,” Kane agreed. “But we’re brothers in every other sense of the word. And please call me John.”

  “Thank you, John. And I do hope you’ll call me Emma.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Emma,” Kane replied with one of his lady-killer smiles, and Hellhound and I exchanged a secret glance of amusement.

  Hooker spoiled the moment with a sudden lunge from my arms, and Arnie nabbed him in midair with practiced ease.

  “Come here, ya big dumbass furball,” he growled.

  Hooker squirmed up his chest, burrowing his nose into Arnie’s beard and planting one large paw on either side of his neck. Eyes squeezed shut, his purr rumbled into a rapturous crescendo while he nuzzled deeper, his paws kneading Arnie’s shoulders.

  Arnie chuckled, gently massaging Hooker’s scruff. “Jeez, ya think he missed me?”

  “Nope.” I grinned. “Not at all.”

  Inside the apartment at last, Kane shot a commanding look at Hellhound. “Bed.”

  Hellhound eased out a long breath as he shed his jacket and boots with careful movements. “Don’t need to tell me twice.”

  Kane and I exchanged a worried glance and flanked him as he limped toward the bedroom.

  He halted. “Fuck, would ya stop doin’ that? You’re makin’ me nervous.”

  “Just get into bed, Arnie, please.” I took his hand and coaxed him into the bedroom. “Do you want to get undressed?”

  Kane stopped in the doorway, eyeing us uncomfortably, and Hellhound withdrew his hand and sank onto the bed. “Nah.” He lowered himself to the pillow, crossing his arms over his chest. “I hate not bein’ dressed in the middle of the day. Makes me feel like a fuckin’ invalid or somethin’.”

  I refrained from voicing the opinion that maybe he should be an invalid for a while, and caught Kane’s eye. “Would you bring one of the afghans from the living room, please?”

  He nodded and returned a moment later to shake out one of the bright, soft blankets and spread it over He
llhound.

  “Christ, cut it out, already!” Hellhound burst out. “I don’t want a fuckin’ bedtime story, an’ if ya try an’ kiss me goodnight I’m gonna slug ya.”

  Kane grinned. “Actually, I was going to offer to get you some breakfast, but if you don’t need anything…” He turned as if to go.

  “Wiseass,” Hellhound grumbled. “Yeah, I want breakfast. Two of those egg an’ sausage things. An’ coffee. Black an’ bitter.” He hesitated and his voice softened. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Aydan, what about you?”

  My stomach let out an audible roar of approval, and I clapped a hand over it and nodded. “Yes, please. Sausage and egg sounds good to me, too. But grab me a milk instead of coffee if you don’t mind.” I followed him out of the bedroom as he turned to go. “Thanks, John.”

  He smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Get ready to buzz me in, so tough-guy there doesn’t try to get out of bed.”

  “Will do.”

  I locked the door behind him before trailing back to the bedroom, trembling with fatigue and weak hunger.

  “Come here, darlin’.” Hellhound extended his arms, and I slid gratefully under the blanket to snuggle next to his warm bulk. He pressed his lips against my forehead. “Thanks for cleanin’ up the place. An’ for gettin’ my stuff. An’ for not tryin’ to keep me in the fuckin’ hospital.”

  “You’re welcome.” I leaned up on one elbow to look down into his face. “How are you really feeling?”

  He sighed, his eyes closing. “Like three guys just kicked the shit outta me.”

  “No kidding. You know that’s not what I meant.”

  He opened his eyes again, dropping the bravado. “Still pretty dizzy, an’ my head hurts like a motherfucker. Don’t tell Kane or he’ll haul me back to the fuckin’ boneyard.”

  “I won’t, as long as you promise to tell me if your headache or dizziness gets worse.”

  “I will. Thanks, darlin’. Knew I could count on ya.”

  “So what really happened?” I demanded. He shrugged and started to answer, but I interrupted. “The truth.”

  He fell silent, staring at the ceiling. “I had to know,” he said at last.

  “Had to know what?”

  “Had to know I wouldn’t lose control.” He met my eyes. “An’ I didn’t.”

  “You… you… what? You purposely went out and picked a fight with three guys and let them beat you up…” Words failed me and I glared at him in furious disbelief.

  “Nah…” His gaze slid away. “Well, not really. I didn’t start anythin’.”

  “But you went looking for it.”

  “Not really.” He still wasn’t meeting my eyes.

  I turned his chin to face me and held his gaze.

  Hellhound sighed. “Okay, I pretty much knew what’d happen if I showed up on their turf. But, darlin’, I had to know. I just had to know.”

  “You could have been killed,” I gritted.

  “I know, Aydan, an’ I’m sorry.” He caressed my cheek and looked deep in my eyes. “It was a shitty thing to do to ya, but don’t ya get it, darlin’? I couldn’t go through life afraid I was gonna lose it again. If I ever hurt ya I’d…” He trailed off before continuing, “At least ya got a gun. What if I lost it on Miz Lacey? She’s so… she’s just bones. Little bones like sticks. I could snap ‘em with two fingers.” He shuddered.

  “But, Arnie, you wouldn’t hurt either of us! I know you wouldn’t!” I gave him a little shake, desperate to convince him.

  He smiled through his bruises, and when he met my gaze the haunted shadows in his eyes had faded. “I’m a bit closer to believin’ that now, darlin’.”

  “Oh, Arnie.” I hid my tears in his chest.

  His hand stroked softly over my hair. “Forgive me?”

  “Of course. Just… promise you won’t ever do anything like that again.”

  His hand stilled. “Ya know I can’t promise ya that.”

  I pressed my face into his T-shirt to blot the moisture from my eyes and sat up to glance significantly at his closet before returning my gaze to him. “So are you Special Forces? Or something else?”

  He met my eyes squarely. “Well, darlin’, I promised I’d never lie to ya.”

  I waited.

  “So I won’t,” he finished.

  I waited a few more moments before realizing that was the only answer he would give.

  “So that’s why, once you decided to take those three guys out, you mopped the floor with them. And why it was so quick with your da- old man,” I corrected myself.

  “Yeah.”

  I eyed him cautiously. “Did you tell John about… Wednesday night?”

  “No.” He crossed his arms over his chest as if he was cold, and I tucked the blanket up over his shoulders. He sighed. “I can’t. He’s a cop.”

  “He’d never rat you out.”

  “He can’t know, darlin’. If anybody ever finds out what really happened, it’s gonna look like premeditated murder, an’ you’ll go to jail, too, for helpin’ me. An’ if Kane knew but didn’t do anythin’, he’d go down as a crooked cop. Ya know what happens to cops in jail. He can’t ever find out.” He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “Wish I’d just called the fuckin’ cops in the first place. Then it woulda been just me goin’ down.”

  “Nobody’s going down. Nobody can place you at the scene. Nobody has any reason to believe I’d lie about killing him.” I kissed him. “Stemp believed me, the body’s gone, and the records are redacted. Even if somebody digs into them, I’ve killed enough people in the past year that they won’t question one more.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “God, I can’t believe I just said that. Anyway, don’t worry. It’s over.”

  “Wish I could believe that.”

  “Believe it.” The buzzer sounded and I kissed him again before heading for the security panel. “Breakfast time.”

  Chapter 29

  With our greasy breakfast summarily dispatched and Arnie tucked back into bed, I drew a long breath and finally confronted the issue of Nicholas Parr’s party.

  Avoidance hadn’t improved anything. I sank my head into my hands and breathed through rising fear.

  “Are you all right?”

  I looked up to meet Kane’s concerned gaze across the table. Shooting a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Arnie was still out of earshot, I leaned in. “I have a problem.”

  Kane stiffened, pushing aside his coffee cup to lean closer. “What is it?”

  I explained while he listened in silence.

  “…so I’ll have to call Dermott, and see what he wants me to do,” I finished. “But I don’t want to leave Arnie, I don’t want to go to any stupid party, and I sure as hell don’t want to go to Fuzzy Bunny’s stupid party.”

  Kane frowned, and I shot him a questioning look. “What do you think he’ll say?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  Kane frowned. “What do you want me to say?”

  “What do you know about Dermott?”

  “Practically nothing. The only times Stemp was away and Dermott took over, I was away on ops, too. I assume he’s competent. I’ve heard the occasional whisper that he’s considered reckless, but I’ve never experienced that first-hand.”

  “That’s not necessarily bad, is it? That’s what you said about Stemp last summer, too, but you said he had a huge success rate.”

  Kane sat back in his chair and circled his coffee cup around and around on the table, watching the dregs swirl. “I said Stemp was ruthless, not reckless. Big difference.”

  “Hmm.” I sighed and massaged the tightening in my temples. “That really doesn’t help.”

  Kane jerked his shoulders impatiently. “Speculation is pointless. Just call him.”

  “I know, you’re right. I’m just procrastinating.” I hauled myself to my feet and went to extract a secured phone from my waist pouch, silent
ly congratulating myself for remembering to transfer one from my car’s glove compartment.

  I was prepared for the usual immediate answer, but the phone rang several times at the other end. I frowned at Kane and he shrugged.

  Pacing, I listened to the fifth, then sixth ring. At last, a rough voice snapped, “Dermott!”

  He sounded pissed off, and I wondered what I’d interrupted.

  “Hi, this is Aydan Kelly-”

  “This better not be a social call, Kelly.”

  I bit back my irritation and laid out my report in clipped sentences.

  When I was finished, Dermott said, “Fine. Go. Coordinate with Kane. Get close to Parr and find out what he wants from you. Keep your ears open for anything about that new weapon.” The line went dead in my ear.

  Kane raised an inquiring eyebrow as I lowered the phone slowly.

  I drew a deep breath to steady my voice. “I was kind of hoping for a little more direction than ‘Fine, go get close to Parr’.”

  I sank back into my chair.

  “Like what?” Kane asked. “Recon is the only objective. That’s what I’ll be doing, too.”

  “You’ll be…?” I frowned. “You’re going, too?”

  “Yes. I received an invitation last night.”

  “What? When were you planning to tell me?”

  “I wasn’t.” He looked puzzled at my expression of outrage. “Why would I? If Dermott thought it was relevant, you would have been informed.”

  I opened my mouth to retort and then closed it again while I considered that. Another entry for the spy manual: All missions are strictly need-to-know, even between team members.

  “I’m glad you’re going, though. It’ll be good to have an extra set of eyes,” Kane added.

  “Uh.” I booted my brain back into gear. “Yeah. So why did you get an invitation? Are they just inviting everybody on the phone list?”

  “Dermott didn’t say. I assume not, since I don’t have orders to coordinate with anyone else-” A buzzing sound came from his pocket and he extracted his phone. “…though I expect this is an order to coordinate with you,” he finished after a glance at the display. “Excuse me a moment.”