Spy, Spy Away

by Diane Henders

  “Um, yeah, but I have some other clients as well.”

  “Oh, are your other clients in research and development, too?”

  “No.”

  That seemed rather abrupt, but he didn’t seem taken aback. His expression of polite interest didn’t waver. He didn’t let it go, either. “What other clients do you work with?”

  “Um. A restaurant. A bar.” Dammit, Hibbert had probably already told him all this. I clenched my teeth. “A sex shop.” It sounded completely sleazy when I said it out loud like that.

  Parr grinned. “Ah. The hospitality industry.”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “So tell me about Aydan Kelly.”

  The suddenness of the question took me off guard. Adrenaline singed my veins. “Um, she’s dead.”

  He swooped forward in his seat, a rapacious bird of prey. “Is she?”

  “What… what do you mean? Of course she is. She died in a car accident. A few months ago.”

  “That’s very interesting.” Razor-sharp eyes slashed my cover identity to bleeding shreds. “Because I have some very sophisticated facial recognition software that says you are Aydan Kelly. Beyond a shadow of doubt.”

  My heart slammed into my ribs with a single sledgehammer blow before clattering emptily into the pit of my belly.

  He had known all along. These last few months he’d just been toying with me. Letting me think they’d believed my cover story.

  And now it was all over.

  Chapter 38

  I stared at Parr for a moment, a deceitful deer frozen in the headlights of truth.

  Then my bullshit factory jolted into emergency production. I leaned back in my chair, not bothering to conceal my trembling hands. “Okay. You got me.” I eased out a shaky breath. “I’ll tell you the truth. It’s a long story…”

  Which my frantic brain was spinning even while I hesitated as if reluctant to talk.

  “I, um… I really am Arlene Widdenback. Aydan Kelly really is dead. We looked a lot alike. We were really good friends, and we sometimes switched places to fool people…”

  Parr didn’t hide his contempt. “Stop insulting my intelligence. You might have gotten Hibbert to swallow that story, but my facial recognition software doesn’t lie.”

  I tossed my head, hiding my gulp of fear. “I didn’t say it was lying. Your software identified my face all right. I was impersonating Aydan Kelly.”

  “Nice try.” His lips twisted in a sardonic smile. “My sources tell me Aydan Kelly’s driver’s licence has had your face on it for the past ten years.”

  “Yeah.” I gave him a challenging stare. “So what? Arlene Widdenback’s driver’s licence has had my face on it for the past ten years, too.”

  At least I hoped it had. Surely Stemp would have created airtight records…

  Parr frowned. “True. But there is no official or unofficial photograph of Aydan Kelly on record that doesn’t have your face on it. If there was, I would have found it. Believe me, my people are very thorough.”

  I drew a deep breath and hoped he couldn’t see my jackhammer pulse beating in the veins in my forehead. “I told you it was a long story.”

  He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do tell.”

  I gathered myself.

  “My friend Aydan was in an abusive marriage-”

  Parr interrupted me with an irritable hiss of breath through his teeth. “Don’t waste my time. I’ve already heard the story of how she supposedly transferred her assets to you to hide from her ex-husband before conveniently dying in an implausible car crash. That’s irrelevant. My software proves you are one and the same person.”

  Another wave of fear crashed over my faulty emotional wiring, short-circuiting into anger. I jerked upright in my chair.

  “No, it doesn’t, you dumb shit! Your software proves my face was on all of her identification. It’s not the same thing. Now shut up and listen!”

  Parr’s eyebrows shot up and he barked out an incredulous half-laugh. Then he mimed zipping his lips and regarded me with a glint in his eyes that clearly said ‘this better be good’.

  ‘Or else’ was easy to deduce.

  I clung to the remains of my anger and honed it into a cutting tone. “As I was saying… my friend Aydan was in an abusive marriage many years ago. When she finally got the courage to leave her ex-husband, she was afraid he would find her. That was when we decided to use my photo, and my address, on all of her official identification. It’s easy to assume somebody else’s identity when you have their full cooperation.”

  I shot a look at Parr, and he gave me a ‘go on’ nod. I threw myself into my newly-created story. “So her ex knew if he came looking for her, he was only going to find me. And he knew I had contacts. He wouldn’t mess with me.”

  I drew a deep breath, thinking furiously. “So we just left it that way. We looked enough alike that she could use the ID without being questioned. And she was always pretty timid, so she just kept hiding behind it. Then when she started seriously dating her next husband, she explained it all to him. When he understood how scared she was, he just went along with it. He was a consultant and he had lots of business dinners and functions. Aydan was shy and she hated that stuff, so I usually went with Robert instead.”

  Inspiration struck. Arlene Widdenback was a con artist, after all.

  “I liked the fancy events.” I hesitated, hoping I wasn’t overdoing it. “It was a good way to… meet… important people.”

  Parr quirked an eyebrow at me. “I understand those… meetings didn’t always go smoothly. Something about three fraud convictions…?”

  I lifted my chin and viewed him down my nose. “Misunderstandings. That’s all.”

  A sardonic smile flitted across his lips. “I see. Do go on.”

  Cautious hope rose. Was he buying it? Or was he just toying with me again?

  I snagged a grape from the fruit platter, hoping to moisten my dry mouth. “So when her second husband died, she came into some money. She was afraid her ex would find out and come after her, so she transferred it into my name. And then she died right afterward.”

  He shot me a skeptical look and opened his mouth, but I forestalled his comment. “And no, I didn’t kill her,” I snapped. “She was my friend.”

  “So you conveniently assumed her identity, took over her bookkeeping clients pretending to be her, and moved into her house.” His icy tone sent shivers down my spine. “What a good friend.”

  I held his gaze. “Why wouldn’t I? She was dead. It wouldn’t hurt her. She had no heirs. And it comforted a lot of people when they ‘found out’…” I made air quotes around the words. “…that it was all a big mistake and she hadn’t died after all. That was a win for everybody except Aydan, and I couldn’t change what had happened to her.”

  Parr eyed me in silence.

  Please let him believe that. Or at least make him uncertain enough to think about it for a while.

  “So Aydan worked for Sirius Dynamics,” he said at last. “And when you tried to impersonate her after her death, they caught you with their security scanners.”

  Hibbert had obviously briefed him thoroughly. I took a deep breath, feeling as though I was scurrying across a barely-frozen lake with the ice cracking under my feet. Just keep moving and don’t look down…

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you suppose they didn’t call the police?”

  I repeated what I’d told Hibbert. “One of the higher-ups likes me.”

  “And why are they letting you continue to use Aydan’s identity without blowing the whistle?”

  I tossed my head. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. They’re paying me. That’s all I care about.”

  “What about Samir Ramos?” The question snapped out like a whip.

  Caught by surprise, I stared blankly at Parr. “Who?”

  A moment later, recognition punched me in the gut. Shit, Samir Ramos. The spy I’d caught in the virtual network at Sirius
back in March when this all started. The one who’d tried to abduct me before I even knew about Fuzzy Bunny.

  Fortunately, Parr was speaking already. “Would Aydan use your identity without your permission?”

  I frowned. “She had my permission. She could use it whenever she wanted.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Even if it put you in danger?”

  “Well, yeah.” I shrugged. “That was the whole point, wasn’t it?”

  “So you would die for your friend.”

  I played dumb. “I wasn’t going to die. I told you, her ex wouldn’t touch me.”

  “I’m not talking about her ex.”

  I gave him my best blank expression, and he sat in silence for a few moments, frowning into middle distance.

  “So…” he said slowly. “Your shy, timid friend… who looked enough like you that you could pass for each other to casual acquaintances… who used your identity for years while carefully concealing her own… Did it ever occur to you that she was using you? Running a scam and setting you up to take the fall?”

  A tendril of hope warmed my heart. Was he buying it?

  I went for indignant. “No, of course not. Aydan would never do that.”

  “Oh, but she would.” He spoke as if to himself. “She was projecting your identity to Ramos. And she’s been flying under the radar ever since, quietly eliminating whoever gets in her way… Smart, smart lady. And she still has the fob…”

  His eyes focused on me with disconcerting suddenness. “She’s still alive. She faked her death in that car crash.”

  Shit, that wasn’t where I wanted him to go at all.

  “Oh, no, I’m sure she didn’t,” I stammered. “She’d never do that. She would have called me if she was still alive. Even if she was hiding, she’d call me. I have all her money, and she’d need some. Besides, the police confirmed it was her body in the car.”

  “Hmm.” He sank his chin onto his chest. After several long minutes of silence, he directed a frown at me. “Tell me about John Kane.”

  “Um…” Parr had undoubtedly checked me out with Harchman by now. I reeled off the story I’d used with Harchman. “I met Kane in a bar last summer. He said he was going to a fancy party and he needed a date to butter up the host. And he said he’d pay me. So I went.”

  “And he told Harchman you were his wife. But he called you Aydan Kane. Not Arlene Kane.”

  Parr had definitely talked to Harchman. I willed my pounding pulse to slow.

  “Yes, he thought I was Aydan when we met in the bar.” I shrugged. “Whenever anybody called me Aydan, I just went with it. I never knew where she’d used her ID, and I didn’t want to get her in trouble.”

  A calculating smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, she was good. Used you, and you had no idea…” He broke off. “So Kane thought you were Aydan, and expected you to go along with his scam.”

  I tried for discomfiture with a touch of defiance. “I didn’t know it was a scam. He just said he’d pay me to butter up Lawrence. And I did.” I pulled a frown and a faint shudder. “Then I discovered what he was really doing, trying to steal Lawrence’s new drilling software. But by then it was too late. Kane… he’s a mean son of a bitch. And big. Strong. Not like Aydan’s ex.”

  Parr filled in the blanks. “So he abused you and forced you to play the game. Until you confessed your true identity to Lawrence.”

  I nodded, eyes cast down. “And then I ran.” I tried a delicate little choke, my fingers fluttering to my lips. “And then Lawrence used me, too. Made those horrible videos…”

  Parr laughed. “Nice acting, but you can skip it. You forget I saw the footage of your exchange with Lawrence at the party. I’m not falling for the cute little helpless act after I watched you twist his balls.”

  “Oh.” I sat back in the chair and gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Habit.”

  He eyed me, still grinning. “So what really happened?”

  I shrugged. “Kane’s a vicious bastard, but we got along okay as long as I didn’t cross him. And Harchman is a slimy little shit. He made those movies without my knowledge and then cashed in on them.”

  “So Kane and Aydan were working at Sirius Dynamics together.” Parr frowned and tapped his empty coffee cup thoughtfully against his thigh. “Probably running some kind of scam. How did he react when Aydan died and you took over?”

  “He already knew about Aydan and me. He found out about our switch when I confessed to Harchman back in the summer.” I tried another shudder. “I paid for that. Believe me, I paid.”

  He eyed me unsympathetically. “But you looked pretty friendly at the party this week.”

  “Yeah. I told you, we get along fine as long as I don’t cross him. We had a bit of a thing.” I hunched my shoulders. “Not as much as I thought, obviously.”

  “Mm.” The coffee cup kept tap-tap-tapping. After a long pause, he said, “You do realize cars don’t usually explode and burn when they’re in an accident.”

  “Uh?” The non-sequitur took me by surprise, and I scrambled to figure out where he was going with this. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Kane probably killed your friend. Took what she had and then set up a car accident for her.”

  I didn’t have to fake my gaping jaw. “What… no, he wouldn’t have.”

  “Why not?”

  “Um…” I came up completely blank. “I just don’t think he would…”

  Parr eyed me with what might have been sympathy. “They both used you. Aydan set you up to take the fall for her scam. She wasn’t quite smart enough and Kane got her, probably along with the item she stole from Sirius. And then he used you in her place. Now he’s done with you and moving on.”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. If I argued, I’d trip myself up on one of my ‘facts’ and end up dead. And my network keys and the portable network generator would fall right into Parr’s hands.

  But if I didn’t come up with an argument to exonerate Kane, Fuzzy Bunny would stop hunting me and start gunning for him. And I was pretty sure we both knew where he was.

  Very likely making passionate love to their director of operations right at this moment.

  Parr leaned forward. “I know where Kane is.”

  Shit, shit, shit, goddamn!

  Rising panic choked my voice. “I… uh…” I swallowed the quaver and tried again. “I think the timing was wrong.”

  “What?” Parr shot me one of his predatory glances. “What do you mean?”

  “Um…” My mind rocketed through possibilities. “I think the timing was wrong for Kane to have set up Aydan’s accident. If he’d gotten what he wanted from her, wouldn’t he have moved on right away? Why would he still be working at Sirius now?”

  “Is he?” Those soulless eyes pinned me to my chair.

  “Well, yeah.” I successfully resisted the urge to gulp. “He’s been off this week, but he’ll be back on Monday.”

  “Ah.” Parr’s gaze went distant again. “Hm. Interesting…” His eyes snapped back into focus. “How would you like to do a small favour for me?”

  “Uh… that would depend on what it was.”

  He smiled. “And what the compensation would be, no doubt. Hibbert tells me you’re a businessperson first and foremost. By the way, why did you deck him at the party? You caused quite a stir.”

  I met his eyes steadily. “Did he tell you about our exchange at the Hogback?”

  Parr’s face froze in an expression of distaste. “The Hogback. I’ve regretted that purchase ever since I acquired the property, but Hibbert seems have an unhealthy liking for it. What happened?”

  “He thought he should receive a commission from your payment for the phone list. A commission that involved twisting my arm halfway out of its socket to get me on my knees in front of him.” My lips peeled back in remembered revulsion. “I leave the rest to your imagination.”

  “Oh.” Parr looked almost as disgusted as I felt. “Why didn’t you press charges?”

  �
�Uh…” I stared at him. Shit, of course an upstanding citizen would ask that. Protecting himself while cheerfully throwing Hibbert to the wolves. “Um… it didn’t seem… wise. In the bigger picture.”

  Parr nodded as if in approval. “Hibbert has developed an unfortunate tendency to overstep his authority in unpleasant ways. It won’t happen again.” He smiled. “You hit him with a lovely right cross, though. I was impressed. How’s your hand?”

  I closed and reopened it slowly. “Sore.”

  “No doubt.” After a short pause, he continued, “I find that Fuzzy Bunny is in need of a part-time consultant. I would like to offer you a retainer of fifty thousand dollars, for your services as and when required.”

  “And my services would be…?” I eyed him suspiciously.

  “Oh, supervisory duties.” He smiled. “And occasionally representing the company at social functions. Specifically, attending a wedding tomorrow.”

  My suspicion deepened. “What wedding?”

  “The wedding of Yana Orlov and John Kane.”

  Chapter 39

  “Wh… what?” The word barely cleared my lips.

  “Our director of operations, Yana Orlov, is marrying John Kane tomorrow at the Little Chapel of the West at eleven A.M. I would like you to attend. To represent the company, as it were.” Parr smiled. “And to keep an eye on Kane.”

  “I… I, uh... I doubt if he’d want me there.”

  Parr’s smile went cold. “I don’t care what he wants. I want to know what he’s up to. As his business associate, you’re in a position to find out.”

  “Um… ex-lover, actually,” I said faintly, still trying to draw a breath around the gut-punch. “I think it might be awkward…”

  Well, of course he’d want to get married right away. He had thought he’d lost her. He was a decisive guy, and now that he’d found her again, he wouldn’t waste a moment of their time together.

  “All the better for you to banish the awkwardness by graciously wishing them happiness together,” Parr said. “If you need an outfit for the wedding, use this company card.” He extracted a credit card from his wallet and handed it over. “Get yourself something nice.” His gaze politely avoided my hiking boots and waist pouch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to join my wife for the remainder of the flight. If you’d like anything at all, Thomas will be happy to take care of you. A limousine will pick you up at the Vegas airport, and the details of the wedding and your return flight will be in your room at the Venetian. Archibald will be in touch to receive your report and the company credit card after you return to Calgary. Do enjoy Vegas.”