“For which I thank her,” Smith interrupted with a half-bow in her direction.
“I’m glad I was in time,” she said shakily. Her face was still bone-white and her hands trembled on her instrumentation case.
“I want an explanation,” Kane growled.
“Uh. Right, you weren’t here the last time this happened,” I said. “There’s this ghost-”
“I know about that,” he interrupted. “Jack briefed me yesterday. I want to know why you screamed ‘Kasper’. When Jack yelled the first time, it pulled me out of the network. Then you caught fire in the sim screaming Kasper’s name, and seconds later he pulled a gun. I was already firing when I realized it was a trank. The only reason he’s still alive is because Jack knocked my aim off.”
“Um… Who’s Kasper?” Spider asked. When Kane and I both nodded toward Smith, Spider’s eyes widened. “I, um, I thought your name was John,” he mumbled.
Smith blew out an impatient breath through his nose. “I changed it.”
“Wh… Why?”
Smith ignored Spider’s question to glare at me. “Why did you yell my name?”
“Sorry…” I cast about frantically for an explanation that didn’t include a non-dead husband. “Um… it was just, um, a joke. Kind of.”
He eyed me narrowly, and I tried again. “You know, like you say, ‘Einstein’ instead of ‘genius’? I said ‘Kasper’ instead of ‘ghost’… You know, ‘Fuck you, ghost’? Sorry,” I added in the ensuing silence. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Clearly not,” Smith snorted. “Why did you catch fire?”
“I didn’t. It was just a metaphor. I was burning away the ghost’s control. It worked, too. He’ll think twice before he tries that again.” I gave Smith a hard look, but he showed no reaction.
Kane turned his impassive face in my direction. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I hauled myself to my feet. “Fine.”
“Go home, all of you,” Stemp said. “Report for duty at the usual time Monday morning.”
I handed the network key to Kane and was turning to head for the door when he spoke to Honey.
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s take your case back to the secured area, and then I’ll buy you a coffee.”
I left without waiting to hear her reply.
When I reached the lobby, a flash of red light through the front doors made me peek out to see the tail end of a departing ambulance.
“What happened?” I asked the guard when I trailed over to the security wicket to turn in my fob.
He dropped the sign-out sheet in the turntable and spun it around for me to sign. “That old researcher that looks like Santa Claus had a heart attack or something down in the secured area.”
My fingers clenched the pen. “Sam Kraus? Is he…”
“I think he’ll be okay. He was sitting up and talking by the time they brought him up.”
“Oh.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Thank God. Maybe I’ll swing by the hospital later and see him.”
The sun was setting by the time I got out of the car to let myself in my gate. I drew in a long breath of fresh country air and leaned on the car for a few minutes, watching the sliver of red sun diminishing behind my hill and letting the tension ease out of my shoulders.
I’d finally had a chance to visit my clients, and several hours of bookkeeping had soothed my frazzled nerves. I drew another deep breath and blew it out slowly, comforting myself with the memory of Sam’s rosy cheeks and brisk step when he’d left the hospital half an hour ago. Thank God it had only been a dizzy spell, not a heart attack.
When the sun vanished completely, I parked the car in the garage and made for the house, my mind already returning to the events at Sirius and wondering once more if I should report Robert.
When I caught myself pacing restlessly through the house again, I jerked to a halt and dealt my long-suffering sofa a couple of irresolute kicks. Dammit, this waiting game was killing me. Why the hell didn’t Robert contact me?
I blew out a breath of irritation and picked up the phone. I needed a distraction. Maybe I could convince Hellhound to come over now that Kane and I were definitely dead in the water.
His cell phone rang a couple of times before his familiar rasp tickled my ear. “Hey, darlin’.”
“Hi, Arnie. What are you up to?”
“Tryin’ to convince the dumbass cat that suckin’ up ain’t gonna work. I ain’t gonna give him any more treats.”
Shit, he’d gone back to Calgary. So much for my hopes for the evening.
“How’s that working for you?”
His gravelly chuckle floated out of the speaker. “Not so good. Guess I know which one of us is really the dumbass.”
“You’re such a soft touch. Big bad biker, my ass.” He laughed, and I continued, “Speaking of my ass… any chance you’ll be up here again in the next little while?”
“Not for a while. I got pretty behind with my stuff here last week. I’ll call ya next time I’m up.”
“Okay, I’ll do the same if I’m down there. Take care.”
“You, too, darlin’.”
I hung up and vented a long growl before I drifted into the office to fire up the computer. I’d finished a couple of crosswords and was beginning to fidget again when I saw a tiny white square blinking in the lower right corner of the computer screen.
This wasn’t the first time I’d noticed it, and I’d always dismissed it as an anomaly in my video display. Absently wondering what the hell caused it, I watched it blink on and off in a steady rhythm.
Wait a minute.
A rush of excitement accompanied my sudden suspicion. Could it be…?
It took me two tries to centre the mouse cursor over the tiny box while my hand shook. I clicked on it, but nothing happened.
Right-click.
Nothing.
Double-click.
Nothing.
Shift-click.
Nothing.
I blew out a breath. You know you’re desperate when you try to read meaning into a video malfunction. I was about to shut the computer down when nagging doubt made me try again.
Control-click.
Nothing.
Alt-Shift-click.
My lungs constricted when a monochrome text window bloomed onto my screen. The flashing cursor zipped across the first line, trailing text behind it.
“Are you safe?”
My heart thudded against my ribs, shaking my hands so badly I had to steady them on the desk to type the three letters. “Yes.”
“Meet 23:00.”
I gulped, trying to summon up some moisture in my dry mouth, and typed again. “Where?”
“The usual, confirm.”
I watched my trembling fingers move across the keyboard. “Confirmed.”
The text window blinked out of existence and I stared blindly at my screen, my pulse thundering in my ears.
Robert was alive. He wanted to see me.
What should I do?
And where the hell was “the usual”?
Chapter 25
I sprang to my feet and jittered from foot to foot, still staring at the screen. Nothing else appeared, and I turned to hurry to my bedroom, caroming off the door frame with a curse.
A glance at my watch informed me I had just under three hours to get wherever I needed to be. I grabbed my waist pouch, then stood staring at my wide-eyed reflection in the mirror.
‘The usual’. Where…?
Oh, of course. I sucked in a deep breath. Robert and I used to have our favourite bench in Carburn Park, overlooking the river where we could watch the ducks. That had to be it.
Carburn Park. In Calgary.
Shit!
It would take about two hours to drive to Calgary. And I needed an insurance policy.
Back at my computer, I set up a time-delayed email message, “Get info where I ran through the spider web.” Kane would understand our old code immediately.
Then I created a
new text file and typed furiously, recording everything I’d discovered before copying the finished file onto my little USB thumb drive. I deleted the original from my computer using my secure erase program and hesitated, wondering how secure it really was. Somebody like Spider could undoubtedly still retrieve it.
I shrugged and turned away. If this went badly, it wouldn’t matter.
I extracted my cell phone from my pouch and laid it on my dresser along with Stemp’s tiny tracking device. There. Aydan’s staying home for the night. Jacket in hand, I headed for the door.
My hand was on the knob when sudden realization made me smack my forehead. “Moron! Fucking moron!”
I trembled my way back to the bedroom, gulping down the adrenaline of a near miss. The surveillance cameras would show me leaving the house. If I walked out and left my tracking device at home, Stemp would instantly know I’d circumvented it.
Hands shaking, I fumbled the tiny capsule back into my change purse. After a moment of hesitation, I picked up my phone again, too. Time for Plan B.
I hoped it wasn’t an omen.
I drove a little faster than usual on the dark highway, hoping to make up some time. The knowledge that I’d lose my license if I got another speeding ticket did nothing to calm my nerves.
When I arrived in Calgary, I took a couple of deep breaths, blowing them out slowly and shaking the ache out of my clenched knuckles while I waited at a red light. I could do this.
At the coffee shop near my old neighbourhood, I scuttled to the well-lit back entrance, my heart pounding. I had planned to tuck my USB stick above the door frame, but there wasn’t enough room. After a moment of near-frantic frustration, I gave the quiet parking lot another quick once-over before hopping awkwardly to push the small device up on top of the wall-mounted light fixture. It was invisible there, but I knew Kane would find it eventually. He’d tear the whole place apart if necessary.
Please God, don’t let it be necessary.
At my next destination, I pressed the button on the security panel and waited. No response.
I leaned on it a little longer. Come on. I know you’re in there.
Nothing.
“Come on!”
Inspiration hit, and I pressed the button repeatedly. Three short, three long, three short. SOS.
Come on. Answer, dammit.
“What the fuck!” Hellhound’s bellow made the tinny speaker crackle.
“Hi, Arnie,” I stammered. “It’s Aydan.”
Tension knifed into his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing bad,” I said quickly.
I heard him blow out a long breath. “Listen, darlin’, I’m kinda busy right now…”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I only need a few seconds. I have to give you something, and then I have to leave right away.”
“Shit, that doesn’t sound good. Come on up.” The lock released, and I hurried inside and took the stairs two at a time.
I was just raising my hand to tap at his door when it swung open and he pulled me inside, giving me an anxious inspection. “What’s wrong?” he demanded again before I could speak.
“Nothing.” I grimaced as I realized what ‘busy’ meant. “Sorry,” I added as I took in his half-zipped jeans and the telltale smears of lipstick on his face. “I just need to give you these.”
I held out my phone and the tracking device. “I’ll be back to pick them up later. If I’m not back by one A.M., call Kane and tell him to check his email.”
“Not so fast,” he rasped. “Where ya goin’?”
“I can’t tell you. Just do this for me. Please?” I gave him the big brown eyes.
“Arnie, hurry up. Come back to bed.” An impatient female voice drifted from the bedroom, and I tried to push my phone into his hands.
“Just hang on a minute, darlin’,” Hellhound said, and I wasn’t sure whether he was talking to me or his bedmate. He lowered his voice. “Listen, Aydan, I ain’t gonna do this. I ain’t gonna call Kane an’ tell him I sat here an’ let ya go off in the middle a’ the night without backup.”
I shot a glance at my watch. “Arnie, please! I can’t involve anybody else. The slightest hint I’m not alone, and this won’t work.”
“Fuck that. Call Kane. This’s what he does.”
“I can’t. If he finds out, somebody I… might care about will die. And I’ll probably end up dead, too.”
“Might care about? What the hell, Aydan, either ya do or ya don’t. An’ if Kane’s gonna kill ya when he finds out, why d’ya want me to phone him later?”
I blew out a tense breath. “I didn’t say he’d kill me, I just… Arnie, look, if this goes well, Kane can’t know. If the whole thing goes to shit, he has to know.”
“Sounds like you’re skatin’ on pretty thin ice, darlin’.” He reached to touch my face, looking deeply into my eyes. “No lies. Promise me ya ain’t screwin’ Kane over.”
“I swear to you that what I’m doing won’t harm Kane no matter how it turns out. In fact, I’m trying to cover his ass for a mistake he made a few years ago.” I shot another edgy glance at my watch. “I have to go.”
He shook his head. “Aydan…”
“Please. I really need you to do this.”
Hellhound blew out a long breath as an imperious call sounded from the bedroom. “Arnie! Get your ass in here!”
“Okay,” he said.
Relief softened my bones. “Thank you!” I flung my arms around him.
“Hang on.” He pulled away, frowning. “One condition. Ya gotta tell me where you’re goin’.”
“I can’t.”
“Then I ain’t doin’ this.”
“Arnie!” Desperation turned my exclamation into a wail. “Arnie, please!”
“No deal.” When I stared at him, trembling with frantic nerves, he continued. “Listen, if ya tell me, I promise I won’t do anythin’ until one A.M. But if this goes to shit, wouldn’t it be better if somebody knows where to start lookin’ for ya?”
It made sense when he said it like that.
“Promise you won’t call Kane until one. No lies,” I begged.
“I promise. No lies.”
Another glance at my watch assured me I was out of time and out of options. “Carburn Park. A bench on the riverbank, about a quarter mile downstream from Glenmore Trail.”
“Okay.” He accepted the phone and tracker.
I reached up to touch his troubled face. “Thank you,” I said. “For everything. And if you have to call Kane… tell him… just… tell him I’m sorry, okay?” I reached up to steal a quick kiss for luck before turning away.
His powerful arms caught me, spinning me around. His lips met mine, his hands sliding down my back to pull me tightly against him. Helpless lust ignited my body when he deepened the kiss, his magic tongue teasing and promising.
My God, the man could melt stone with those kisses.
A long moment later, I used every ounce of my willpower to break the kiss, breathless. “What…? I thought…”
Hellhound appraised me seriously. “That sounded like goodbye. An’ there’s no fuckin’ way I’m sayin’ goodbye with a little pansy-ass kiss like ya gave me.” His wicked grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Besides, now you’re all hot for me, I know you’ll make it back come hell or high water.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “You know me too well.”
A well-endowed brunette stomped out of the bedroom. “What the hell?” she screeched, her voice rising to a pitch that made me fear for the hall mirror.
I pulled away and squeezed Hellhound’s hand. “See you later,” I murmured and headed for the door.
“Ya better. Be safe, Aydan,” Hellhound rasped softly before turning to face his enraged brunette. “Now, darlin’…” I heard him begin as the door closed behind me.
In the inadequate streetlights outside the park, I squinted at my watch and swore. I’d have to haul ass if I was going to make it to the bench on time. I sprang out of the
car, pressed a trembling hand against the reassuring shape of my gun at my waist, and ran.
As the streetlights receded behind me, I slowed to a shuffling jog until my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Fearfully eyeballing the heavy bushes beside and ahead of me, I hugged the open side of the path.
A rustle in the undergrowth made me jerk out my gun and spin around, eyes straining for the source of the sound. A moment later, I let out a shaky breath when I realized the sound was too small and too close to the ground to be a threat.
I turned to hurry on, my gun clenched in my hand. After a moment, I stuffed it back in its holster. I didn’t necessarily want Robert to know I was armed. Just in case.
The path seemed longer than I remembered. I panted open-mouthed, trying to be quiet and wondering where the hell the bench was. It had been nearly three years. What if it wasn’t here anymore?
At last, I made out its faint shape silhouetted against the city lights across the river. Unoccupied.
I skulked closer, my heart banging in my chest. My eyes began to ache from peering at dark bushes against darkness.
Nothing moved.
A skittering noise made me jump, but this time I knew it was only the sound of a small animal on some night errand through the fallen leaves. Traffic noise from Glenmore Trail created a constant low-level sound backdrop, and I swivelled my head like a manic owl, afraid I’d miss the sound of somebody sneaking up on me.
Beside the bench at last, I hovered nervously, resisting the urge to pace back and forth on the noisy gravel that surrounded it. The night seemed full of surreptitious rustlings.
I tiptoed over to the nearest tree, wincing when an unseen twig cracked under my foot. With my back pressed against the tree for protection, I stood peering into the blackness.
An icy breeze swirled along the riverbank, making the dry leaves whisper malicious rumours. My sweat-damp T-shirt amplified the chill and I shivered despite my jacket.
I froze at the sight of a darker patch of shadow on the path. Was it moving slowly toward me? I stared until my eyes watered.
Moving? Or not?
At last, I decided my eyes were playing tricks on me. Definitely not moving.
How Spy I Am Page 18