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A Spy For a Spy Page 2
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Tom straightened, his brows drawing together. “How could the medical examiner make that kind of mistake? When there’s a fatality accident, they don’t assume the driver was the owner of the car. They verify the identity.”
I shrugged. “It crashed and burned. I guess there wasn’t much left.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” He shook his head slowly. “There’s usually something left. Teeth. They should have checked dental records...”
Damn, I should have known better than to try to slip this past a firefighter. I went for a diversion.
“Look, Tom...” I leaned closer, giving him the big brown eyes. “Um... this is kind of embarrassing, but... there’s, um... more to the story. I have to ask you a big favour.”
His frown eased. “You know I’ll do anything I can.”
“Um... Other than just the local people around here... don’t mention to anybody else I’m alive, okay?”
His eyes hardened into blue glaciers. “Aydan, who are you hiding from? Who’s threatening you? Tell me.”
I laid a hand over the fist he had clenched on the table beside me. “No, it’s nothing like that. Like I said, it’s... just embarrassing... um...” I couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Everybody thinks I’m a porn star. I’m hiding from the media.”
“What?” The word blew out on an incredulous gust of half-laughter, half-indignation. “They think you’re a what? Why in heaven’s name...?”
Well, even if my cover story forced me to lie through my teeth, at least I could be honest about my embarrassment.
I felt heat climbing my face. “Um... Well, there’s this woman, Arlene Widdenback. She’s this skanky internet porn star. She’s done a bunch of videos where she fu... um… with this creepy little guy no woman in her right mind would touch with rubber gloves, and she’s been to jail for fraud a couple of times. She calls herself Arlene Cherry and, she, um... looks just like me. Well, mostly...”
I bit my tongue before I could mention that the only difference was the digitally enhanced volleyball-sized boobs. I chanced a glance at Tom’s face and hurriedly looked down at my lap.
Damn Stemp and his goddamn porn-star cover story. I’d kill him for saddling me with this. Kill him slowly. With much screaming, the bastard.
“So anyway, when I was in Victoria, some reporter saw me and thought I was her,” I added rapidly. “And now the media is all fired up about stalking her for interviews and some moron got the idea that somehow when I’d died in the car accident, she’d assumed my identity and I’m really her, pretending to be me to avoid publicity...”
This time I didn’t look up.
“Aydan, that’s...” Tom’s response was cut short by the sound of the doorbell. I rose without looking at him to approach the door hesitantly, my heart pounding with renewed fear. It had to be Stemp’s team by now. It couldn’t be the other guys.
Could it?
Dammit, if it was the fake RCMP guys and I had to pull my gun, how the hell would I explain that to Tom?
Suddenly he was beside me, frowning. “Aydan, are you afraid to answer the door?”
“Um, no, I was just...”
Even if I could have summoned up a plausible explanation, it would have been too late.
“Stay back.” He strode forward and flung open the door.
John Kane loomed outside the screen, his dark hair and clothing blending with the night. The porch light threw the scar that bisected his eyebrow into sinister relief and dramatically shadowed his strong features.
Tom was tall and hard-muscled, but Kane’s six-foot-four height and mountainous shoulders dwarfed him. Braced in the doorway, Tom’s lean figure in faded denim contrasted starkly against Kane’s towering darkness like some medieval depiction of good versus evil.
Which was absolute bullshit since Kane was the best of the good guys and the sole reason I wasn’t dead several times over. Too bad Tom didn’t see it that way.
And I couldn’t tell him.
“Kane,” Tom said, his neutral tone not quite concealing the hard edge beneath.
Kane nodded, his face expressionless. “Rossburn.” His grey gaze tracked to me, rooted to the floor while I assessed the tension between them.
Oh, God, please don’t let them fight.
“Aydan,” Kane said, his everybody-stay-calm cop voice matching his impassive cop face. “May I come in?”
I found my voice. “Of course. Sorry.” I scurried forward to reach past Tom and open the screen door.
Kane stepped unhurriedly into the room while Tom reluctantly moved a couple of paces back. The two men eyed each other without visible hostility, but the hair on the back of my neck bristled with the electric sensation of impending combat.
“I need to speak with Aydan privately for a few minutes,” Kane said mildly. “If you’ll excuse us, this won’t take long.”
And if Tom didn’t excuse us, I knew it wouldn’t take long, either. In hand-to-hand combat, Kane was just as deadly as he looked. Even Tom’s considerable strength and courage wouldn’t have a prayer.
I didn’t give him an opportunity to think it over.
“Sorry, Tom, this’ll just take a minute. John and I need to go over some work stuff.” I grabbed Kane’s sleeve and towed him down the hall into my office without looking back.
Inside, Kane swung the door shut behind us and tilted my chin up to survey my face, his touch lingering. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” I backed away and leaned nonchalantly against my desk.
Kane’s big warm hands closed around my shoulders. “Try again. Are you all right? Do you need help getting rid of Rossburn?”
I considered pulling away, but the warm strength of his grip eased my vibrating tension. I gave him a reassuring smile. “Really, I’m fine. And you don’t need to worry about Tom unless there’s a helicopter and armed men out there that need to be explained away.”
He chuckled. “No helicopter. Just me and a few of Stemp’s tactical team. We scrambled as soon as the analysts reported the uniforms on your porch. We’ve secured the perimeter, and the tac team is concealed in the trees down by the creek.”
I blew out my relief in a sigh. “Good. So who were those guys?”
He hadn’t let go of my shoulders. The heat of his hands radiated, and a whiff of gun oil and leather summoned a knee-weakening wave of memories I’d been doing my best to avoid. I made the mistake of looking up at him. His eyes darkened, focusing on my mouth.
“We’re not sure yet,” he said, his velvet baritone caressing my ears. “Definitely not RCMP.” His gaze tracked up to hold mine. “Maybe you should come and stay in the bunker tonight just to be on the safe side.” His voice deepened. “I have a T-shirt you could borrow.”
I swallowed hard and tore my mind away from the invitation sizzling in his eyes. With a supreme effort, I kept my hands off his body and my eyes above his chin.
“No, I’ll be fine.” I pulled out of his grasp. “Let me know as soon as you find out anything. I’d better go and talk to Tom before he decides you’re ravishing me in here...” My perfidious voice went husky on the ‘ravishing’ part.
“...and rushes in to save me,” I finished hurriedly, and scuttled out the door.
When I re-entered the kitchen, Tom stopped in mid-pace. His head jerked up, his arms uncrossing as his gaze snapped to Kane striding behind me.
Kane spoke before Tom could. “Thanks for the update. Good night, Aydan.” He strolled to the door and stooped to don his boots. When he straightened, he fixed Tom with a level gaze. “Rossburn.” His tone was casual, but challenge lurked in its depths.
Tom’s eyes narrowed, blue lasers slicing the thickening tension. “Kane.”
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before the corner of Kane’s mouth quirked up. He turned and strode out, the quiet click of the door puncturing the barrier of suspense that had momentarily stopped my breath.
As I eased out an unobtrusive but painful sigh, Tom turned to study me. �
�You’re shaking again. Did he do something to upset you?”
“No, of course not. We were just talking about work.” I stiffened my knees, willing my legs to stop quivering.
He frowned. “You never did tell me why the police were here.”
“Um… yeah, sorry.” I seized on the first excuse that came to mind. “They were just tying up the last loose ends from their investigation of that car crash. They were in some pretty hot water after getting my identity wrong.”
His face softened. “You’ve had the week from hell. No wonder you’re feeling shaky.” He stepped closer to gather me into his arms. “Remember you don’t have to go through these things alone. I’m here for you.”
The softness in his voice and the warmth of his arms brought a flood of unexpected emotion. I pulled away, blinking rapidly at the floor. Jesus, woman, get it together.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “I’m fine.”
“Aydan...” Tom hesitated. “Why won’t you let me help you? Is it... Are you too polite to tell me to get lost? If you don’t want me around, just say so. I accused Kane of stalking you, but I just realized maybe I’m the one who’s being a pest.”
When I glanced up, his expression twisted my heart. “Oh, no, Tom, of course you’re not!” I blurted before I thought.
I bit my tongue. Idiot. I could have ended everything cleanly right here and sent him away to live safely ever after without me.
His shoulders relaxed, the tense lines easing from his face. “What is it then?” he asked softly. “Why won’t you let down your guard with me? What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid...” I began, but stopped and dropped my gaze to the floor as I recognized an opportunity to steer him away. “Um...” I gave him a quick glance before eyeing the floor again. “Tom...” I hesitated, mentally trying and discarding several choices of words.
“Just say it, Aydan,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to sugar-coat anything for me.”
His bleak expression wrung my heart. Goddammit, I was sick of hurting good people.
I took his hand and told him half the truth.
“Tom, I really like you, but I’m afraid to spend any time with you because I don’t want to get involved again. Not with you, and not with anybody.”
His face softened, and he stroked my hand. “Aydan, you don’t have to be afraid. I’ll never hurt you. Let me prove it to you.”
I took a moment to relax my clenched teeth and ease out a secret breath of frustration. “No, you don’t understand. I’m not afraid you’ll hurt me. I just don’t have what it takes to be in a relationship again.”
“I know it might feel like that right now, but it’s only been a couple of years since your husband died,” he said gently. “Give yourself time. Someday you’ll be ready to share your life again.”
I blew out a breath and pulled my hand away. “I don’t want that. I just can’t get involved again, and I don’t want to try.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” Tom said. He smiled down at me. “I just want you to know I’m here for you as a friend. Or anything else you want me to be.” The smile lingered in his eyes. “You look exhausted. I’ll leave so you can get some rest.”
He moved to the door to slip on his boots and jacket before studying me intently again, one hand on the doorknob.
“Do you need a hug?” he asked softly. “From a friend?”
The sudden quaking need to curl into his arms frightened me.
I stood a little taller and held my voice very steady. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
Chapter 3
Trapped!
The coffin squeezed tighter, pinning my arms and legs. I thrashed uselessly, my terrified screams crushed into empty whispers by the implacable pressure of my shrinking prison…
“Aydan! Are you all right?” Kane’s shout dragged me free of the nightmare.
I jerked into sitting position, the horror slithering away to coil itself back into the dark corners of my mind.
“Yeah,” I croaked, my throat still raw from my screams.
Kane slipped through my bedroom door, smooth and silent as a panther. Lethal black-on-black highlights glinted off his gun as he snapped a glance around the moonlit room.
“It’s okay. Just my usual shit.” I groaned and slumped forward to massage my aching face, struggling to bring my breathing under control. “Sorry.”
The bed dipped as Kane perched beside me. “Bad dream?” His hand stroked my hair.
I drew as deep a breath as I could comfortably manage and eased it out, willing my heart rate to slow. “Yeah.” I dragged my head out of my hands to give him an apologetic grimace. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hear me from outside. Sorry.”
“All clear.” Kane spoke into a small radio before pocketing it to draw me closer. I leaned into him, letting the cold fabric of his jacket soothe my sweaty forehead. When I pulled away, he surveyed me, his expression shadowed into obscurity against the moonlit window. “After what you’ve been through lately, you don’t need to apologize for bad dreams. It happens to everybody.”
“Yeah, but I bet you don’t wake the neighbours screaming,” I muttered.
He sighed. “No. I wake up punching. After my first broken knuckle, I learned to move my bed away from the wall for the first few nights after a tough mission.”
“Oh.” I sat up straighter, feeling slightly comforted. “Gotta hate it when you hit a stud instead of nice soft drywall.”
His chuckle rumbled through the darkness. “You can say that again. Go back to sleep. I’ll sit with you for a while.”
Embarrassment made me squirm. “No, that’s okay, I’m fine. But you and the tac team should come in the house and get warm.” I shot a glance at the glowing digits of the clock radio. “God, it’s after midnight. You’ve been out there for nearly four hours. You must be freezing.”
“It’s only minus five. We’re dressed for it, and we keep moving.”
“Well, call them on the radio and tell them to come in. I don’t think those fake RCMP guys were much of a threat. If they’d been serious about it, they would’ve grabbed me or shot me right off the bat.”
I searched his face, unable to read him in the darkness. “You can protect me just as easily and a lot more comfortably from inside the house. And anyway, you need sleep. Stemp doesn’t expect you to hang around here all night and then put in a full day’s work tomorrow, does he?”
Kane shifted on the bed. “Stemp doesn’t know I’m still here. My orders were to secure the area and leave the tac team in place.”
I eyed his shadowed features with exasperation. “Well, he knows now, because you just came through the camera surveillance. Go home and get some rest, for chrissake. Who knows what we’ll be up against tomorrow morning?” My words ended in a gulp as all my worry flooded back. “You’re going to need every advantage you can get if you’re going to be saddled with me as a partner. Or do you think Stemp will just send me out on my own…?” I swallowed papery fear.
Kane chuckled. “You’ve been undercover too long. You can abandon the Oscar-winning act when you’re with me.”
My hand clenched on the duvet hard enough to crack my knuckles. “It’s not an act,” I hissed. “John, you have to believe me. I was lying when I told Stemp I was an agent. I’m just a dumb civilian bookkeeper and I don’t know the first thing about-”
“Shhh.” His fingertips pressed gently against my lips. “It’s all right. I know you can’t drop your cover.”
I gripped his wrist. “Listen. Please listen to me. If we go on a mission and if you don’t treat me like a brainless civilian, you will die expecting me to use some fancy spy skills that I don’t have! I can’t do this!”
He went still. “You wouldn’t break cover even if our lives were at stake?”
I let go of his wrist to thump my forehead with the heels of both hands. “No! I mean, I would if I could, but I-”
His kiss stifled my protest, but before I could react he pulle
d away and stood. The moonlight silvered the curve of his smile. “Aydan, I wouldn’t expect anything else. I’ll willingly stake my life on a partnership with you. You’re amazing.” His grin flashed through the dimness. “You’re also naked. I’m leaving while I still have some willpower, and before the surveillance analysts get suspicious.” His wicked grin widened. “But if they didn’t know I was here…”
He turned and strode out, leaving the unfinished sentence vibrating on suddenly overheated air.
I managed to get through the rest of the night without screaming, largely because I couldn’t go back to sleep. Squinting in the too-bright bathroom lights the next morning, I groaned at the sight of bags under my eyes big enough to carry sandwiches.
A shower and breakfast roused me sufficiently to stumble around the house pulling together the essentials to pack into my spare waist pouch along with the replacement identification cards Stemp had issued me the previous day. At least there were some advantages to working with the Department. Instant replacement ID when yours gets blown up, for one.
I tucked my spare knives into their accustomed spot, feeling smug. Nichele had teased me for my anal-retentive tendencies when I’d bought duplicates, but I loved that lock-bladed knife, dammit. And who was laughing now?
My momentary surge of satisfaction waned fast when I stepped out into the cold morning light, and my breakfast churned in my stomach during the drive to Silverside. With nothing to distract me on the empty country highway, my mind chittered and scrabbled like a trapped rat.
How could I convince Stemp to demote me back to being an asset instead of an agent? Sure, that meant he’d kill me as soon as he found another way to decrypt files and hack computer networks, but if he sent me out on a mission, I’d probably end up dead in short order anyway. And at least as an asset, nobody else’s life would depend on me.
I braked when Silverside’s single traffic light turned red as usual at my approach.
I could try telling Stemp the truth, but he likely wouldn’t believe it. I could see it now: ‘Director, y’know before, when you thought I was telling the truth? I was lying then. But I’m telling the truth now. Really, I am.’ Yeah, that would work just fine, wouldn’t it?