Friends In Spy Places

by Diane Henders

  I disconnected and bellowed, “Listen up!” over the rumble of male voices.

  They fell silent.

  “I’ve got a friend, an ex-cop. He can be here in a few minutes, and he’ll make sure these dogs…” Somehow I managed not to spit on Grandin just out of sheer ritual. “…end up in jail. You guys leave before he gets here, and everything will be fine.”

  “Sorry, Punkin, we can’t do that,” Mr. Nielsen said regretfully. “We ain’t gonna take a chance on one of these dogs…”

  Splat. Right on target.

  “…gittin’ loose and having another go at you. But you go ahead and phone your friend,” he encouraged. “If he’s really your friend, he won’t turn us in.”

  No choice. And the longer we stood around here, the more chance that somebody would see us and involve the real cops.

  I punched Hellhound’s speed dial again.

  “Hi,” I said when he answered. “I’ve got a bit of a situation here.”

  “I’m hearin’ it all with the glasses,” he said. “Just pretend you’re tellin’ me where ya are an’ what happened. Kane’s on his way.”

  Kane?

  Shit, he’d gotten sucked into another one of my disastrous missions.

  Somehow I managed to babble something that must have sounded plausible to Mr. Nielsen. When I disconnected from the call, he patted me on the shoulder.

  “You done just fine, Punkin. Come on and sit down now, you’re shakin’ like an aspen in a tornado.”

  Chapter 51

  Kane really was only a few minutes away.

  When he came striding down the path in his snow-patterned camouflage, I realized that Hellhound must have called him when he’d received my original voicemail. If Kane had been at his condo in the deep south, he could have easily gotten here and concealed himself before Holt’s team arrived.

  Holt was going to tear a wide bleeding strip off the team for not spotting Kane and the farmers, but that really wasn’t fair. The team had been geared up for an urban op, not sneaking around in the snow. And Kane had been the top agent in the Department for years. They’d never had a chance.

  “Aydan, are you all right?” Kane swept me into an embrace, playing the concerned friend to the hilt.

  “Fine.” I clung to him, hiding my smile in his broad chest. This was why the ‘damsel-in-distress’ fantasy was so popular. Damn, he felt good.

  Kane raised his voice. “All right, men, you can clear out now. I’ll take it from here.”

  None of them moved.

  “How do we know we can trust you?” Mr. Nielsen demanded.

  “Aydan trusts me.”

  Emerging from Kane’s arms, I gave the group my best reassuring smile. “It’s true, you can trust him. Everything’s fine now.”

  “Maybe so…” Mr. Nielsen locked gazes with Kane. “…maybe not. You got some proof that you are who you say you are?”

  “Yes,” Kane said. “And you’re very smart to demand it. I used to work with the Drumheller RCMP detachment. Why don’t you call there and speak to Officer Birch or Officer Peters, and ask them if they’ll vouch for John Kane.”

  Murmurs of approval greeted that, and Mr. Nielsen nodded. “I’ll just do that.” He pulled out a smartphone and poked tentatively at it. “Dang thing, I can never remember how to get on the goldurn interweb and find a phone number…”

  Old Mr. Evans stalked over like an emaciated heron, smartphone in hand. “Here, Lars, I’ve got it.” His fingers whisked deftly over his phone’s screen and a moment later he held it to his ear. “Hello. May I speak to Officer Birch or Officer Peters, please? It’s urgent.”

  A few moments later he spoke again. “Hello, Officer Peters. Thank you for taking my call. I’m dealing with a gentleman named John Kane, and he says you’ll vouch for him.” He listened for a moment. “Certainly. Just a moment.” He handed the phone to Kane. “She wants to speak to you.”

  Kane accepted the phone. “Kane here.” Peters’s end of the conversation was inaudible, and I stood straining my ears in vain as Kane replied, “Yes… no… yes, please. I’d appreciate it if you’d get the Okotoks detachment to send a cruiser and van. This phone’s location is correct. Thank you. I’ll pass you back now.”

  He handed the phone back to Mr. Evans, who said, “Hello?” in hopeful tones. His bony shoulders squared. “Yes, ma’am. I appreciate that. Thank you for your service, and have a good day.” He disconnected and turned to the waiting group. “He checks out.”

  Exhaled breaths and a general shuffling of feet indicated their relief.

  “All right, men,” Kane said with authority. “The RCMP will be here in less than fifteen minutes, and you need to be gone by the time they get here. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving Aydan…” He squeezed my shoulders, holding me close to him. “…but please, don’t ever do anything like this again. These men were heavily armed…” He indicated the weapons lying on the ground. “…and they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you if they had spotted you sneaking up on them.”

  Mr. Nielsen laughed. “Son, we been huntin’ since before you were born, and these dogs…” Kane winced as another load of spit joined the slimy puddle oozing off Grandin’s head. Mr. Nielsen went on, “…show up like cow patties in the snow with their black clothes. The day me and the boys can’t sneak around a bunch of city slickers in the bush is the day we hang up our rifles for good.” He turned to address the group. “Clear on out! Meet you at Denny’s for all-day breakfast!”

  “And thank you!” I added. “You’re all heroes!”

  With a few ‘aw-shucks’ mumbles, the old men faded into the undergrowth. The racket of the radio masked the sound of their movements, and I smiled up at Mr. Nielsen.

  “You guys had this all figured out.”

  “Yep.” He rocked back on his heels, grinning. “That’ll be the day, when a bunch of old farmers can’t outsmart yella-bellied dogs like these.”

  Splat.

  Grandin twitched and groaned.

  As the quads roared off toward the river, Mr. Nielsen added, “Sorry we scared you, Punkin. You know we wouldn’t’ve actually shot ’em, don’t you?”

  I stared at him. “I, um… no, actually, I didn’t…” As the old familiar glint rose in his eyes, I let my head fall back with a groan. “Oh, for shit’s sake! You did it again, after all these years! I could never tell when you guys were pulling my leg at the coffee shop, either.”

  He laughed. “Well, when you weren’t gonna let us call the cops, I figgered we better throw a good scare into these dogs.”

  Grandin flinched, but the well-aimed gob of spittle struck him with uncanny accuracy anyway.

  Mr. Nielsen offered me a grubby feed store receipt with a number scrawled on the back. “Here’s yer mama’s phone number. Are we ever gonna see the two of you around town again?”

  Bitter reality crashed down on my head.

  My mother was a ruthless criminal. She’d only been using me.

  My sigh held enough unhappiness to make Mr. Nielsen’s timeworn face soften in sympathy.

  “I doubt it,” I mumbled. “Mom will have to go underground again, and I’ll probably have to stay away, too.”

  “Well, then, you tell yer mama to take care; and you take care, too.” He patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. “Guess I better skedaddle.” Locking gazes with Kane again, he added, “You take care of her, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Kane said gravely.

  “Mr. Nielsen?” I stopped him with a hand on his sleeve as he turned away. “Say thanks to the town for me.” I glanced meaningfully at the briefcase as he picked it up.

  “I will, Punkin. They were all proud to help.” He winked and hefted the suitcase. “And they’ll be right glad to see their money again. ’Bye now.”

  Within minutes a cavalcade of half-tons crept up the snowy slope, some of them pulling trailers with quads. They all waved as they went by and I waved back, feeling as though I was presiding over a particularly bizarr
e Christmas parade.

  When the sound of the last engine had faded, Holt mumbled, “Are they gone?”

  “Let me check.” I was reaching for my phone when it vibrated. I smiled at the sight of Hellhound’s number on the call display and accepted the call.

  “Nobody’s got eyes on ya, darlin’,” he said. “Ya can untie everybody now.”

  “Thanks.” I disconnected and said, “All clear.”

  “Fuck, finally,” Holt growled. “Get these fucking ropes off me.”

  My sharp jackknife made short work of his bonds and he sat up, rubbing the reddened skin on his cheek where his face had been pressed to the snow. “Fucking old redneck fuckers!” He explored the bloodied patch on his head with cautious fingertips. “That old fart nailed me with a fucking rifle butt!”

  Grandin groaned again and flopped over, his arms and legs still tied behind him. “At least they didn’t spit on you,” he griped.

  I left him bound and hurried over to release the rest of the team, who rose and sheepishly collected their weapons. Nobody said much.

  The faint sound of sirens drifted to my ears and Holt scowled. “Why did you tell them to send units? It’s a fucking waste of their time, and we’ll all have to push an extra ton of paper.”

  Kane eyed him. “I’m willing to bet those old rednecks aren’t as dumb as you think. They’re probably waiting just around the corner, making sure everything happens the way we promised.”

  Holt subsided into muttered obscenities, but he didn’t argue.

  “I’m going to call Ian,” I said, pulling out my cell phone. “Now that we know Nora was the buyer, I’ve got some brand new questions, and there’s still time before their flight leaves.”

  “And I want to know who she owns in our government. Somebody high up sent me those orders,” Grandin said.

  Holt glared at Grandin. “Shut up.” He transferred his glare to me. “And you stay out of it. I’ll call Rand, and he can damn well bring Taylor down to the secure facility for questioning. She’s not getting on that plane today.”

  “She has diplomatic immunity,” Kane reminded him.

  “Ask me if I give a rat’s ass,” Holt snarled, and stomped away, phone to his ear.

  I let him go. He probably needed to feel in control right now; and after my confrontation with Ian last night, it was probably better if Holt did the talking anyway.

  When a cruiser and a police van slithered down the hill a few minutes later Holt negotiated a ride to the sportsplex, or farther if any of the farmers were still in evidence. The team piled into the back of the van, and Holt shoved Grandin into the back seat of the cruiser.

  “Meet us at the sportsplex,” Holt snapped, and got in beside Grandin.

  When silence and solitude surrounded us again, I wrapped my arms around Kane. “Thank you. That could have gone really badly.”

  His lips quirked up. “Yes, it could have… Punkinhead.”

  “Shut up.” Pulling out my phone, I hit Hellhound’s speed dial.

  “Hey, darlin’,” he said. “Should I meet ya at the sportsplex, too?”

  “Yes. You’re still listening? Where are you?”

  “Yeah, these glasses are great. I’m up under the bridge on the north side of the river. Wave to the homeless guy.” A bulky figure detached itself from the shadow under the bridge and waved. “Sorry I didn’t call earlier an’ let ya know what was goin’ down, but your message said ‘don’t call’ an’ I didn’t wanna fuck anythin’ up.”

  “It’s okay, it all worked out fine. So that was you,” I said as I waved back. “I was wondering if it was, but the team said they didn’t see any weapons.”

  “An’ they wouldn’t’a, unless they made a wrong move,” he said. “Lucky I could hear everythin’, though. If I’d just been watchin’ without hearin’ the talk, there woulda been a lotta innocent dead men down there.”

  I shuddered. “I still can’t believe they did that, but it’s completely in character. Only people from Saskatchewan would take up a collection from the whole town, hit the road in an all-night convoy, and risk their lives to help somebody they haven’t seen in thirty years. They’re all fucking nuts.”

  “You’re from Saskatchewan.”

  I grinned. “See?”

  He laughed and imitated Lars Nielsen. “Yep.” Switching back to his usual voice, he added, “Hey, tell Kane he was right. Your Mister Nielsen was sittin’ up around the corner in his big fuckin’ boat of a car, watchin’ for the cops. The coast’s clear now, so ya better get to the sportsplex an’ hook up with Holt. Go nail the mother-bitch.”

  “Right.” My amusement drained away. Surviving Holt’s sting was going to be the easiest part of this day.

  And if I couldn’t make Nora slip up and say something incriminating, these could be my last moments of freedom.

  I shivered.

  Don’t think about it.

  At the sportsplex, I parked beside the Fitz-Rite Fine Flooring truck again, and Kane’s black Expedition and Hellhound’s Forester pulled in beside me. We all got out, and I hugged them both in turn while Holt looked on with a scowl.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said to Kane. “And thank you for calling him,” I added, turning to Hellhound. “You guys saved my ass again.”

  Hellhound shrugged, grinning. “It’s a pretty nice ass. Wouldn’t wanna waste it.”

  I feigned indignation. “Oh, sure, it’s all about you.”

  “What’s your plan now?” Kane inquired. “Do you really think you’ll get to question Nora?”

  “I sure hope so. I’m in deep shit if I can’t.”

  His brow furrowed. “How deep?”

  “Very deep. Stemp’s out of the country and Dermott has a hate on for me after I made him look bad in the debriefing last week. He’s just looking for an excuse to lock me up.”

  “Does he have one?”

  I exchanged an unhappy look with Hellhound. “Probably.”

  “Oh.” Kane’s frown deepened. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No. But thanks again for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” He hesitated. “If everything goes well, would you like to come for supper tonight? Dad would love to see you again, and I could probably convince the real estate agent to let us in and have a look at my new house.”

  “You got the house!” I faked excitement for all I was worth. “Congratulations!”

  “Thank you.” His smile was wide and warm. “I feel as though I’m finally moving in the right direction after spinning my wheels for most of this year.”

  “Well, that’s great…”

  Holt cleared his throat loudly and tapped his wristwatch.

  “I guess we’d better go,” I said. “Thanks for the invitation. I’ll call you after I finish with Nora.”

  “All right. Good luck.” Kane drew me into his arms and lowered his lips to mine.

  I had expected a light friendly kiss.

  What I got was deeper, darker, and deadlier. My knees weakened.

  When he disengaged our lips, a silly giggle fell out of my mouth. “Wow. Nice to see you, too,” I joked feebly.

  “See you soon,” he promised, and swung into the Expedition.

  Conscious of Holt’s sardonic grin, I turned to Hellhound as Kane pulled away.

  “I’ll be down at Kane’s condo visitin’ Dad, too, so I’ll see ya later,” Arnie said. When I wrapped my arms around him, he hesitated, his gaze flicking to Holt. Nudging me around to turn his back on our audience, he whispered, “Is it okay if I kiss ya?”

  “Yes. And it’s not okay if you don’t.”

  He chuckled. “Just checkin’.”

  His kiss weakened my knees, too. Where John was fire and passion, Arnie was sensual unhurried bliss. Sinking into his embrace, I let my mind go blank-

  “For fucksakes, let’s go!” Holt barked. “Move it, Kelly!”

  “He’s just jealous of me,” Hellhound murmured against my lips, but I could barely manage a smile
.

  “See you later.” I gave him an extra squeeze before letting him go.

  He waved and drove away and I returned his wave absently, my mind already on Nora and her lies.

  How could I have believed her when she’d seemed so furious that Sam had hurt me? All her little hesitations seemed magnified in my memory now, so blatantly incriminating that only an idiot could miss them.

  I stiffened as Nora’s voice replayed in my mind. But then I found out you were an agent…

  “Kelly! Wake the fuck up!”

  I twitched, refocusing on the parking lot and Holt’s scowling face.

  “You going to stand here in the fucking freezing cold all fucking day?” he demanded.

  “No. I just figured out the whole thing.”

  “What whole thing?”

  “Why Nora would kidnap me instead of just pretending to be my loving mommy and slowly sucking me in.”

  “If you’re going to tell me, get on with it.” Holt shoved his hands into his armpits. “I’m freezing my fucking ass off and I’ve got a headache that’d kill a fucking horse.”

  “She had to keep me quiet. When she first arranged to meet me she thought I was a civilian and she could just feed me some lies and get me to skim sensitive intel that she could sell for profit. But when she found out I was an agent…”

  “She was afraid to risk it,” Holt finished.

  “Yeah. But she’s broke, and I was her retirement plan.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “Kidnapping me solved everything. Grandin would keep his mouth shut because he’d taken the so-called ‘cash bonus’ that was obviously a bribe. Ian would be dead, so she was rid of the only person who suspected her of murdering Howard Coleman-”

  “Who’s Howard Coleman?” Holt interrupted.

  “The Weapons Director she replaced. And Agent Dirk was just collateral damage, but if the Department thought I’d murdered Dirk and Rand and attacked Grandin and fled…”

  “They’d issue a ‘kill on sight’ order for you,” Holt said flatly.

  “Yeah. But by then Mr. Nielsen would have delivered me to Mommy Dearest, who’d spirit me out of the country before anybody could find me. I could never go near the Department again because of the kill order, so she’d have as much time as she needed to convince me.”