Tell Me No Spies Read online

  Tell Me No Spies

  Book 4 of the NEVER SAY SPY series

  By Diane Henders

  Published November 2011 by PEBKAC Publishing

  Smashwords Edition v.6

  ISBN 978-0-9878712-3-7

  The town of Silverside and all secret technologies are products of my imagination. If I’m abducted by grim-faced men wearing dark glasses, or if I die in an unexplained fiery car crash, you’ll know I accidentally came a little too close to the truth.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are products of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Please respect my hard work by complying with copyright laws. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. You may not resell this e-book under any circumstances.

  Thank you for reading!

  Copyright © 2011 Diane Henders

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  Books in the NEVER SAY SPY series:

  Book 1: Never Say Spy

  Book 2: The Spy Is Cast

  Book 3: Reach For The Spy

  Book 4: Tell Me No Spies

  Book 5: How Spy I Am

  Book 6: A Spy For A Spy

  Book 7: Spy, Spy Away

  Book 8: Spy Now, Pay Later

  Book 9: Spy High

  Book 10: Spy Away Home

  More books coming…

  Humour by Diane Henders

  Probably Inappropriate

  Definitely Inappropriate

  Totally Inappropriate

  Completely Inappropriate

  More books coming! For a current list, please visit www.dianehenders.com

  Or sign up for my New Book Notification list at

  www.dianehenders.com/books

  For Phill

  Thank you for being my technical advisor and the most tolerant husband ever. Much love!

  To my beta readers/editors, especially Carol H., Judy B., and Phill B., with gratitude: Many thanks for all your time and effort in catching my spelling and grammar errors, telling me when I screwed up the plot or the characters’ motivations, and generally keeping me honest.

  To the other Phil, with appreciation: Thanks for all the cold beer and the great stories about your trucking days. That was the most enjoyable research I’ve ever done.

  To Rick and Sandy H. at Hand Crafted Images: Your talent makes my covers extra-special, and your sense of humour makes photo sessions fun even for a camera-hater like me. Thank you!

  To Steve A. and the staff at The Shooting Edge: Thank you for lending us your excellent facilities for our cover photo sessions. You guys rock!

  To everyone else, respectfully:

  If you find any typographical errors in this book, please send an email to [email protected]. Mistakes drive me nuts, and I’m sorry if any slipped through. Please let me know what the error is, and on which page (or at which position in e-versions). I’ll make sure it gets fixed as soon as possible. Thanks!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  A Request

  About Me

  Since You Asked

  Bonus Stuff

  Chapter 1

  I suppressed a curse and furtively shifted the concealed holster to a more comfortable spot at my waist, rearranging my sweatshirt over it. A tension headache pounded sullenly at the base of my skull.

  The vibration of my phone made me start, and I snapped a glance over my shoulder before I snatched it up.

  I could barely hear the whisper on the other end. “Aydan, can you stall him for a few more minutes?”

  “How long?” I hissed. “What’s wrong?”

  “We just need a few more minutes to get everybody into position.”

  “I’ll try.” I punched the disconnect button with more force than absolutely necessary. Why the hell did I let myself get sucked into this?

  I knotted my fists in my hair and tugged, but quickly desisted when the door latch released behind me. Trying to look relaxed, I leaned back in the chair and stretched my legs out. The security guard glanced my way and I gave him a quick smile, heart thumping.

  At the sound of footsteps, I turned my smile toward my quarry as I stood. “All finished?”

  “Yes.” He stretched, grimacing. “Long day.” He made for the door.

  “Hang on a second,” I blurted.

  “What?” He shifted from foot to foot, obviously eager to leave.

  “Um…”

  Goddammit, what could I say to stall him? My mind was completely blank. The silence began to stretch. His forehead creased ever so slightly and his eyes darted toward the door.

  Think, think, dammit!

  Absolutely no inspiration came to mind.

  Shit!

  I did my best sheepish laugh and slapped my forehead. “Forgot what I was going to say. Sorry, you’re right, it’s been a long day.”

  He let out a short laugh and turned away again. “See you.”

  As he disappeared out the door, I whisked my phone out and hit the speed dial. Still attempting nonchalance, I wandered out of the building, giving a farewell wave to the security guard.

  The phone rang interminably at the other end while I muttered, “Pick up, dammit, pick up!” When I finally heard the whisper on the other end, I snapped, “He’s on his way!”

  “Crap! Can you get here before him?”

  “I’ll try.”

  When I was sure nobody was watching, I launched myself into a silent sprint toward my car.

  I lunged into the driver’s seat and swore violently when the door slammed on my long hair and nearly dislocated my neck. I wasted precious seconds opening and closing the door to free myself. The tires chirped on the still-warm asphalt as I stomped on the gas.

  Minutes later, my car skidded to a halt in the gravelled alley and I dashed through the twilight to let myself in the back gate. I spun at the last second to catch it before it banged behind me, then flew across the yard. As I reached the top step, the door to the darkened house opened. A disembodied hand yanked me inside.

  My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dimness, and I allowed myself to be towed rapidly through the house. A jerk on my arm made me duck behind the sofa just as the scrape of the front door key sounded, loud in the listening silence.

  Light and noise erupted, and Spider recoiled with a yelp, his gangly arms flailing in shock.

  “Surprise!” Linda flung herself at him, hugging him as he staggered back against the wall. “Are you surprised?”

  Spider’s mouth opened and
closed soundlessly a few times. “Yeah…” he finally quavered. “Yeah… I’m surprised all right.” His dilated eyes focused on me. “Aydan! You were in on this all along! I’m going to- ”

  I raised my arms in mock surrender. “Be nice, Spider. You wouldn’t beat up an old lady, would you?”

  “Old lady, my foot,” he retorted. “I couldn’t beat you up if I tried.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself with that old lady stuff,” his mother tossed over her shoulder. “Forty-seven isn’t old! That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.” She pulled Spider down to kiss him noisily on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Clyde, honey.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” He beamed at the rowdy crowd in the living room. “Thanks, you guys. You scared the heck out of me, but thanks.”

  Linda tugged at him and he awkwardly stooped from his beanpole six-foot-two to give her a quick kiss. His cheeks turned pink when whoops and catcalls burst out.

  Linda shot a devilish glance at the assembled friends and family, then wrapped her arms around his neck and stretched to her full almost-five-foot height. Pandemonium reigned while her theatrically passionate kiss went on and on. Finally Spider disengaged himself, his face scarlet.

  “Isn’t there some cake or something?” he mumbled, staring at the floor. Laughter filled the room, and the crowd’s attention shifted when one of his sisters brought in the cake. As the discordant chorus of “Happy Birthday To You” rang out, he and Linda sneaked another kiss, their eyes sparkling.

  I leaned back against the wall, grinning.

  “Talk about the long and short of it. They look just like Ray and me together.” Spider’s mom smiled up at me. “Thanks for acting as the decoy.”

  I laughed and rubbed at my headache. “You’re welcome. I’m glad it worked. They are cute together, aren’t they?” I chuckled again, regarding short, plump Gladys Webb beside me and Spider’s tall, lanky dad across the room. Like father, like son.

  I accepted my piece of birthday cake and lingered a few more minutes, trying to appear sociable while I sweated profusely. As soon as I could politely excuse myself, I did a fast fade out to the mercifully cool evening air on the back deck.

  I was leaning on the railing and sipping a glass of water when Spider came out and leaned beside me.

  “Thanks for letting Mom and Linda rope you into this,” he said.

  “I didn’t have much choice. Linda by herself is bad enough. The two of them combined are an unstoppable force.”

  He returned my rueful grin. “I know. But with two older sisters, I’m used to dominant females. You haven’t met them yet, have you? Why don’t you come back inside and I’ll introduce you to everybody?”

  I sipped water, stalling, and he mistook my hesitation. “I know you don’t really like crowds. It’s okay if you just want to sneak away.”

  “Thanks, Spider, but that wasn’t really what I was thinking. I like your mom, and I’d like to meet your dad and sisters, but I’m cooking in this sweatshirt, and I can’t take it off because I wore my waist holster today. Damn October weather, it was cold this morning and then it turned hot.”

  “Oh.” He eyed me uncertainly. “Couldn’t you just leave your gun in your car?”

  “I could. But I’m not supposed to. And it’d be Murphy’s Law that I’d need it the one time I took it off.”

  “I guess. I hope you won’t need it tonight, though.”

  “I’m sure I won’t.” I patted him on the shoulder. “Go enjoy your party.”

  He had just disappeared inside when his father’s bony silhouette appeared in the doorway. He advanced on me, hand outstretched.

  “I’m Ray Webb, Clyde’s dad. You’re the only tall woman with long red hair here, so you must be Aydan Kelly.”

  “Guilty.” I shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to finally meet you, too. Clyde talks a lot about you.”

  “Spider talks a lot, period. But he’s the bright spot of my days at Sirius Dynamics,” I added quickly. “He’s a great kid. And scary smart.”

  Ray winked. “Like his dad.”

  “So I hear.”

  I knew Ray by reputation only, as a civilian researcher at Sirius. He was brilliant, eccentric, and nowhere close to the security clearance that would allow him to know about my work. I hunched over the railing again, making sure my loose sweatshirt concealed my gun.

  “So you do bookkeeping for Sirius Dynamics?” His gaze was a little too piercing, and I felt my gaze slither sideways despite myself.

  “Yes,” I replied, with perhaps a shade too much emphasis.

  “But you work with Clyde.”

  I could tell he was trying to puzzle out why a bookkeeper would hobnob on a daily basis with a computer analyst.

  “Yes… I do some computer work, sometimes, too.”

  Ray’s face brightened. “Really? What’s your area of expertise?”

  Shit. All I needed was to get into a technical discussion that would reveal how little I really knew about modern computer systems.

  “I… help out with some of the network stuff,” I hedged.

  “In the secured facility,” he prompted. “I saw you going in there a few weeks ago.”

  Shit, shit, shit!

  “Uh, sometimes, yeah. But that was for some, um, bookkeeping stuff for one of the special projects. I have to work down there when I’m doing bookkeeping. Um, for the special projects, I mean. Because they can’t bring stuff upstairs.”

  He contemplated me for a few moments. “Don’t take this wrong, but you need a better cover,” he said at last.

  I blew out a breath through my teeth and resisted the urge to yank a couple of handfuls of hair. “I’m just a bookkeeper, Ray, okay?”

  “Okay. But you should come up with a more convincing story.”

  “I wish I could, but I’m really just a bookkeeper.”

  He opened his mouth and closed it again when one of Spider’s sisters poked her head out the door. “Come on inside, Dad. Clyde’s going to open his presents.”

  I sucked in a breath of relief. “I really have to run now. It was nice talking to you. Tell Spider I said happy birthday.”

  I scuttled out to my car and fell into the driver’s seat, groaning and rubbing my pounding temples in the friendly darkness. Christ, I needed to get better at that. Spider’s dad was brighter than most people, but it was only a matter of time before others started asking the same inconvenient questions.

  Chapter 2

  Sprawled under my car the next afternoon, I let fly with a few colourful expletives when some of the blackened oil poured over the badly-placed frame member and missed the drain pan.

  “Everything okay?” A cheerful male voice made me jerk with shock, nearly smashing my forehead on the chassis.

  “Shit!” Heart pounding, I scuffled across the concrete on my back and peered out from underneath the Saturn at my neighbour, Tom Rossburn.

  I blew out a long breath, thankful it was him and not somebody trying to kill me. I’d left my gun in the house when I changed my clothes. Stupid. I should know better by now.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added.

  “It’s okay. Could you hand me that roll of paper towels, please?”

  He glanced at my oil-stained hands and tore off a couple of sheets. “Do you need more?”

  “No, that’s fine. Thanks.” I squirmed back under the car and wiped up the mess, doing a bit of deep breathing to dissipate the unnecessary adrenaline.

  When I emerged again, he gave me his attractive crooked smile. “Do you need a hand?”

  “No, I’ll just let it drain for a few minutes and then button it up.” I wiped my hands on the paper towel he offered and surreptitiously checked him out, enjoying the view.

  The colour of his denim shirt accentuated his sky-blue eyes, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned, sinewy muscle. Even from a couple of feet away, he smelled like sun-baked cotton and sweet, fresh hay. He hadn’t turned around yet, but I
knew from previous dedicated observation that the rear view of those faded jeans and cowboy boots was drool-worthy, too.

  I did my best to project casual neighbourly interest. “I saw you up there with the truck earlier. How’s it going?”

  “Fine. I just dropped by to let you know I finished loading the bales from your eighty.”

  “Thanks!” I beamed at him. “I’m so glad you could do that for me. Let me know what your expenses were.”

  He waved a hand. “Forget it.”

  “No, we had a deal. Split the expenses, split the profits when you sell the bales. And I still think you should take more than half. You’re doing all the work.”

  “But it’s your land,” he objected.

  I propped my fists on my hips and frowned at him, and his crooked grin came back. “Okay. I’ll write it out and drop it off tomorrow.”

  “Good. Thanks.” I wiped my hands again on my coveralls and headed for the beer fridge that was just one of the many things I loved about my deluxe garage. “Do you want a beer?” I pulled out a cold one and waved it in his direction.

  “No, I better not. You go ahead though.”

  I unzipped the hot coveralls and shimmied out of them gratefully. As I tipped a long swallow of ice-cold beer down my throat, I caught Tom surveying my clingy shorts and tank top with undisguised appreciation.

  “How’d you like to go out for drinks tonight instead?” he asked.

  “…Um.”

  In the past couple of months, I’d been more and more tempted to discard my ‘look, don’t touch’ policy with him.

  I gave myself a mental slap to the head. Down, girl.

  “I… uh.”

  Goddammit, what would a few drinks matter? We were neighbours after all. I should at least make an effort to be friendly.

  “Sure. That sounds like fun.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but it was already too late.