Spy High Read online

  Spy High

  Book 9 of the NEVER SAY SPY series

  By Diane Henders

  Published January 2015 by PEBKAC Publishing

  Smashwords Edition v.3

  ISBN 978-1-927460-21-4

  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 © 2015 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! 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 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

  Chapter 1

  A distant shout made me jerk my head up to listen. A moment later I identified both the voice and the name it was calling.

  Shit!

  Snapping a glance around the forest, I dodged off the gravel path and dashed through the undergrowth to my favourite giant cedar tree.

  Thank God I hadn’t been spotted. Yet.

  I ducked behind the tree and squashed through the large crack into its hollow trunk, hunching over awkwardly in the damp cedar-scented dimness. Even the thumping of my heart couldn’t drown out the calls of my pursuer.

  “Storm! Hello-o-o! Storm Cloud Dancer, where are you?” Aurora Peace Rain’s strident voice made me wince and cower deeper into my hiding place.

  Her calls got louder and I suppressed a groan. What the hell had I been thinking? If she caught me hiding in here, how would I explain myself?

  “Storm!”

  She must be standing right on the other side of the tree. If she came around it, she’d see my legs through the crack…

  “Storm!”

  Shit, and if she kept screeching like that, the damn tree was likely to split under the vocal assault.

  The swish-thump of boots tramping through undergrowth sounded nearly on top of me and I squeezed my eyes shut.

  If she caught me I’d tell her… um…

  My eyes popped open as inspiration hit. I didn’t have to look like a deranged chickenshit. I’d just say I was communing with the Earth Spirit in here. Anywhere else in Canada that would be good for a VIP ticket to a psych evaluation, but here on the commune they’d probably be thrilled.

  She gave one more ear-piercing call before her footsteps faded, and her next shout came from farther away.

  I let out my breath with a whoosh and slid down to crouch on the damp ground, giving thanks for the size of the trees here in the B.C. rainforest.

  God, I needed to get back to my secluded Alberta farm. After four months of living a communal lifestyle my nerves were scraped raw. I cast a sheepish glance around my cramped refuge before thumping my forehead against my drawn-up knees.

  How pathetic. Hiding like a coward just because I couldn’t bear Aurora’s voice. She was actually quite a nice kid… well, twenty-something. But her enthusiastic expositions on the benevolence of the Earth Spirit had gotten old after the first week. And that voice of hers, my God…

  I leaned my head against the rough wood behind me and drew in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, I debated how long to stay hidden. Aurora’s calls had faded into the distance, but there was no telling whether she’d come back this way. I’d wait a little longer.

  After several more minutes of crouching in silence my legs began to rebel, and the confined space made my breathing accelerate even though the opening was only a foot away. What if something happened? What if the tree somehow shifted and trapped me inside?

  I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Don’t be stupid. That couldn’t happen. Just stay in here a little longer…

  Claustrophobia won at last and I was about to make my escape when the distant crunch of footsteps on gravel made me hunch down again.

  Dammit, she was coming back.

  Moments later I realized it wasn’t Aurora when I heard quiet male voices over the footsteps.

  Well, fine. In a few minutes they’d be past. The commune was all about tolerance and understanding, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be known as a forty-seven-year-old woman who hid inside hollow trees like a kid.

  Besides, there was no need to give away my hiding place. I might want to use it again.

  I settled back to wait.

  The footsteps got louder and a snatch of conversation drifted to my ears.

  “…think it’ll be soon?”

  “Mesker will tell us when.”

  “Aw, come on…”

  That voice sounded familiar. I frowned, trying to place it.

  It went on, “…you’re
his right-hand man. You must know.”

  I jerked upright with recognition, nearly cracking my head on the inside of the tree.

  Orion Moonjava.

  A pause, then the second voice spoke again, sounding smug. “Soon. Maybe even this week.”

  The voices and footsteps were fading and I eased my head out the crack to peek at the two figures receding along the path. Orion’s broad shoulders, wavy brown hair, and buns of steel were easy to identify, but I didn’t recognize his short, slightly-built companion. All I could see of him was black hair, baggy camo pants, and military-style boots.

  The smaller man spoke again, his words drifting back to me so faintly I could barely identify the words. “I can hardly wait to get rid of the filth…”

  Orion laughed as they disappeared around a bend in the path and their voices dwindled.

  Heart pounding, I withdrew into the safety of my tree again.

  If I wasn’t on a covert mission I’d probably dismiss the conversation without a second thought, but it was my job to be suspicious. And the words ‘get rid of the filth’ had sent a shiver down my spine. I hoped he’d been talking about the mud on his boots.

  Or maybe I’d heard him wrong.

  Feeling antsy, I squeezed out of my hiding place and stood hesitating. Should I follow them and try to overhear more?

  But that likely wouldn’t work. If I walked on the path they’d hear my footsteps on the gravel, and if they caught me skulking along in the undergrowth I’d rouse their suspicions in return. Orion thought I was just a bookkeeper, and I wanted to keep it that way.

  But dammit, this was the second thing about Orion that had made me uneasy…

  “Storm!”

  I jumped at the sound of Aurora’s call and flung a wild glance toward my tree, but it was too late. She’d spotted me.

  “There you are!” Her voice assaulted my ears even from several yards away as she jogged up. “There’s a phone call for you,” she panted. “Where were you? I’ve been looking and looking.”

  Hoping to limit our encounter, I broke into a jog toward the main building. “Thanks, Aurora,” I threw over my shoulder. “If I run maybe I can catch them before they hang up.”

  I should have known better. She caught up easily, and short of making an obvious race of it I couldn’t shake her. Hell, she could probably outrun me anyway. I was in good shape, but so was she. And she was about twenty-five years younger.

  I settled into a steady jog and resigned myself to my fate as she began, “Hasn’t the Earth Spirit given us a lovely day today? It’s so nice to get a break from the rain…”

  I kept jogging, nodding grimly and trying not to wince while her monologue battered my eardrums like machine-gun fire.

  When we panted up to the main building and ducked inside I sucked in a breath of relief at the sight of the old-fashioned telephone receiver dangling by its curly cord.

  “Oh, good,” I interrupted Aurora’s soliloquy. “Looks like they’re still on the line. Thanks for coming to get me.”

  “You’re welcome, Storm!” Her voice rose in enthusiasm and I took an involuntary step backward.

  “Talk to you later, then,” I said, and hurried over to snatch up the receiver.

  Aurora gave me a sunny smile and departed, and my “Hello?” wafted into the receiver on a sigh of relief.

  “Is this Aydan Kelly?” The voice of my best friend made my heart lift.

  “Nichele!” I clutched the receiver, grinning. “How the hell are you? It’s so great to hear your voice!”

  “Aydan, finally!” Her squeal of delight would have made me yank the receiver away from my ear if I hadn’t just been subjected to Aurora’s jackhammer voice. “Girl, I can’t believe I’m finally getting to talk to you! Where were you? You sound like you just ran a mile!”

  “I damn near did.” I sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to control my panting. “I was on the other side of the commune. Sorry you had to wait so long. Talk to me while I catch my breath.”

  She launched into her usual exuberant chatter and I leaned against the wall, still grinning. This was going to take a while.

  Chapter 2

  “…secluded raincoast paradise, my ass!” I jammed the receiver between my chin and shoulder, the better to wave my arms while I paced. “Secluded, yeah, it’s ‘way out in the sticks; and ‘raincoast’ is no exaggeration. But ‘paradise’? Ha! If there’s really a hell, it’s not fiery-hot like everybody thinks. It’s cold and wet and gloomy…”

  The curly cord jerked taut and I barely managed to catch the receiver before it hit the floor. “This shitty old phone!” I stuffed it back under my chin.

  “Why don’t you just use your cell phone?” Nichele asked, her words blurred by the crackling of the bad connection. “It’s such a pain to call you on the land line. Nobody can ever find you and they’re lousy at taking messages. We’ve talked, what? Twice in the last four months?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that. I’d use my cell if I could, but the commune doesn’t allow them.”

  “How would they know?” Nichele scoffed. “If they can’t even find you, they can’t possibly know if you sneak a cell phone in there.”

  “Yeah, but…” I paused, ransacking my brain for a plausible reason besides ‘I can’t use it in case some bad guy tracks its signal and comes to kill me’.

  “Um, I just don’t like to go against their rules,” I mumbled, and changed the subject. “Anyway, I can’t believe I fell for that ‘paradise’ bullshit. I knew damn well how rainy the west coast of Vancouver Island is in winter. If I have to listen to the pitter-patter of raindrops on canvas one more day I swear I’ll go insane.”

  Nichele’s giggle danced above the static.

  “Yeah, laugh it up,” I snarled, my acrimony only half-feigned. “I haven’t been completely dry in months. There’s mould growing in my underwear drawer, for shit’s sake!”

  “Girl, if you’ve got mould in your underwear it means you’re not getting enough action,” Nichele teased. “Why haven’t you found some artsy hippy-type guy who’s into all that tantric sex stuff? And anyway, I thought you said Hellhound and Hot John were going to come out and visit you.” I could imagine her grin and bouncing eyebrows. “You can’t tell me the two of them weren’t enough to burn the mould off your panties.”

  I smiled in spite of myself. “Your fascination with my sex life is downright twisted.”

  “What sex life?” she demanded. “Somebody should pay attention to it, ‘cause you obviously aren’t.”

  “Mm.” My smile faded. “John was here a couple of months ago…”

  “Really?” Nichele’s squeal coincided with a moment of clarity on the line and I jerked the receiver away from my ear, wincing. The static promptly returned, making me strain to hear her next words. “Oh-em-gee, he is soooo hot! Why would you even need underwear if he was there?”

  “He was convalescing,” I protested. “He was in pretty rough shape because he’d fallen on some ice and broken a rib a few weeks earlier.”

  The cover story left a bad taste in my mouth. It wasn’t fair to make Kane sound like an accident-prone wimp, but revealing that he was really a secret agent recovering from a gunshot wound would tend to negate the ‘secret’ part…

  She interrupted my thoughts with a lascivious purr. “Anybody with a bit of imagination can work around a broken rib.”

  “Yeah…” My word floated out on a sigh. “But we didn’t get a chance to try. He’d only been here a few hours when he got a call saying his dad had been taken to the hospital with chest pain, so he left right away and flew out to Winnipeg. His dad had stents put in and he’s fine now, thank God, but by the time things settled down John had to go back to work instead of coming here.”

  “But you’ll see him when you get home, right?”

  I held in another sigh. “Probably not. We aren’t working together anymore and he has to travel a lot for his new job. I haven’t heard a thing from him in over a month. I don’t
even know where he is.”

  My gut clenched. He could be anywhere in the world, in danger I’d never know about unless I got a call that began with the words ‘We have bad news’…

  “So, um… what about Hellhound?” Nichele inquired cautiously. “You’re not going to spoil what you’ve got with John by sleeping with Hellhound again, are you?”

  “There’s nothing to spoil. John and I are just good friends…” The half-lie sounded feeble, but I forged on regardless. “…and I told you, I don’t know…” I bit off the word ‘if’. “…when I’ll see him again. And I haven’t seen Arnie since I left in December. We’ve talked on the phone a couple of times, but he’s been too busy with his P.I. cases to come out here.” I kept my tone light, hiding my twinge of hurt.

  Apparently I hadn’t hidden it as well as I’d hoped. Nichele snorted. “Well, fine. Forget those losers, then. Why not sample the herd there?” A wicked grin lurked in Nichele’s faux-innocent tone. “Aren’t any of those skinny granola-fed guys up to it?”

  I glanced around the corner to be sure I was alone before lowering my voice as I slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “Finding somebody who’s interested isn’t the problem. They all are. They’ve got this sixties-style free love thing going on, and everybody sleeps with everybody else. By now every man here has made a pass at me including Skidmark, who I’m pretty sure has lived here for seventy years and been stoned the whole time.”

  “Every man?” Nichele’s voice rose to a squeak of revulsion. “Your uncle propositioned you? Eeeeuwwww!”

  “No, no!” I amended quickly. “No, of course Uncle Karma didn’t, and all the other guys just asked nicely and it was no big deal when I turned them down. But still…”

  “Yeah, still. Skidmark? Eeuw.” She giggled again. “Why do they call him that? You mean, like, he has skidmarks in his underwear?”