The Spies That Bind Page 2

  “Wow, that’s really, um… specific… for something that happened seven years ago,” Birch mumbled, staring fixedly at his feet.

  Kane gave him a bitter grimace. “That’s when she served me with the divorce papers. And to answer your second question, this morning I woke up at five-thirty as usual and I was at the gym when they opened at six. I worked out for two hours, then went home. I was there until one-thirty this afternoon. I was alone, but if you check my telephone and computer records you’ll see that I was online off and on between eight and eleven AM and at about eleven my dad phoned and we talked until about noon. I was cooking for our potluck dinner between noon and one-thirty but I spent about ten minutes online during that time. Then I drove here for the party, arriving about ten to two. Any of the guests can verify my presence here between then and now. Tell me what happened to Alicia!”

  “Oh, good…” Peters pressed her lips together as if she hadn’t meant to reveal her feelings, but both she and Birch looked relieved.

  Birch withdrew a photo from his pocket and passed it over to Kane. “Do you know this man?”

  Kane studied the photo briefly. “No.” He turned it toward me, displaying an ordinary-looking fortyish man in a camo-printed jacket and matching ball cap. I shook my head.

  Kane passed the photo back to Birch and was beginning to speak when Peters interrupted, “Does the name Arbuckle Murphy ring a bell?” She and Birch eyed Kane intently.

  “No. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Are you sure?” Birch asked.

  Kane frowned. “Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t forget a name like that.”

  “How about Buck Murphy?” Peters persisted.

  “No. Who is he, and how does this relate to Alicia?”

  Peters nodded as though he’d confirmed something she already knew. “Thank you, that’s all we needed. The questions were really just a formality.” She began to turn away.

  “Sandra.” The name snapped from Kane’s lips with such authority that she froze in her tracks. “Glen.” Birch stiffened to attention, too, as if unable to defy Kane’s command. “Tell me what’s happening,” Kane rapped out. “Now!”

  Peters and Birch exchanged a single defeated glance, and Birch hissed a long breath through his teeth. “I knew you wouldn’t let us get away with this,” he mumbled. “Look, John, just sit down for a minute, okay?”

  “Tell. Me. Now.” Kane’s growl raised every hair on the back of my neck, and Birch took an involuntary step back.

  “Okay… Okay.” Birch exchanged another look with Peters and apparently decided to go with the ‘ripping-off-the-Bandaid’ approach. “Your ex-wife didn’t realize she was pregnant when she served you with the divorce papers, and she never told you she’d given birth to your son. Today at about three-thirty PM he was abducted from a birthday party. She didn’t want anyone to contact you but the Calgary police convinced her the biological father should be questioned just in case you had somehow discovered the truth and conspired to abduct your child.”

  The colour drained from Kane’s face so fast I thought he might faint. I sprang to his side, gripping his elbow and trying to guide him to a chair, but I might as well have tried to move a mountain. His bloodless lips opened.

  “That’s not possible,” he rasped. “She couldn’t have children. The fertility specialist said there was no hope. She must have adopted a child. This is a mistake. A… misunderstanding.”

  Officer Peters stepped forward to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Without a paternity test we can’t know for sure, but I really don’t think she’s lying, John. I’m sorry, I know this is a shock, but…” She drew a photo out of her pocket and handed it to him. “I doubt if it’s a mistake. He looks just like you.”

  Together, Kane and I stared at the photo. Kane’s grey eyes laughed back at us from a chubby childish face under dark hair that matched Kane’s own.

  “He’s six,” Officer Peters said softly. “His name is Daniel Wyatt Kane.”

  The name hit Kane like a gut-punch, half-folding him with a whoosh of air from his whitened lips.

  “Sit!” I pushed him into a chair and clamped the back of his neck to press his head down. “Head between your knees. Breathe.”

  “I’m fine,” he muttered, fending me off with an absent-minded sweep of his massive arm that sent me staggering back despite my hundred-and-sixty pounds and five-foot-ten height.

  Kane shook his head like a boxer recovering from an uppercut. Then his shoulders squared and he sat up straight. “Give me the facts of the case.” His cop face and cop voice were emotionless but the photo quivered in his white-knuckled grip. “And hurry. The clock’s ticking.”

  As if sensing my confusion, he turned to me to explain, “The longer a child is missing, the greater the likelihood that they won’t be found alive. The first forty-eight hours are the critical window.” Returning his hard scrutiny to the two officers, he demanded, “Any ransom demands? Physical evidence? Witnesses?”

  “John…” Birch reached over to clasp his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but you’re not on the case. You’re too close to it. Leave it to us.”

  Kane rocketed out of the chair, fists clenched. “You’ll damn well tell m…” An instant later he caught himself and drew a deep breath, white lines of strain bracketing his mouth. “Sorry, Glen, Sandra; you’re right. Thank you for telling me this much. Just…”

  He drew another deep breath and offered the photo back to them, holding it as if it might break. “…keep me posted.”

  “We will. I promise everybody’s doing their absolute best to find him.” Birch nodded at the photo. “Keep it. We made copies.”

  “Thank you,” Kane said raggedly.

  Birch gave him a tight-lipped smile and Peters gripped his shoulder sympathetically before they let themselves out, leaving us standing in shattering silence.

  “How…” Kane shook his head as if still reeling from the blow. He spoke again as if to himself. “How could she…?”

  Helpless in the face of his pain, I took his hand and stroked it in silence.

  His grip tightened, nearly crushing my fingers. “I have to talk to her,” he muttered.

  His hand tightened again and I let out a yelp. “Ease up, Superman!”

  The moment the words left my mouth I willed them back with all my might, but the damage was done. His face twisted with pain, and I knew he was remembering the little boy who had gazed up with hero-worship shining in his eyes and called him Soopooman only a few months ago. Younger than his own son.

  The son he’d lost without ever knowing of his existence.

  Desperate to distract him, I pulled free of his grip and hurried over to extract another secured phone from the kitchen drawer.

  “Call Stemp.” I pushed the phone into his hand. “He said he wanted to talk to you right away.”

  “Stemp.” Kane blinked at me like a sleepwalker mired in a waking nightmare. “What does he want?”

  “I don’t know, just phone him, okay? Here.” I pressed the speed dial button and lifted his hand to his ear, phone and all.

  He frowned at the crackle on the other end that was undoubtedly Stemp’s curt greeting. Then he lowered the phone and I thought for a moment he was going to drop it and walk away, but he pressed the speaker button instead.

  “It’s Kane,” he said flatly, and waited.

  “You’ve spoken to the RCMP?” Stemp inquired.

  “Yes.”

  “My sympathies. This must be very difficult for you.”

  A hint of surprise touched Kane’s shell-shocked expression, but he didn’t know about Stemp’s secret daughter overseas. I alone understood how heartfelt Stemp’s words truly were.

  “Thank you,” Kane mumbled.

  “That said…” Stemp’s voice regained its usual dispassionate crispness. “You are to have no professional involvement in this case whatsoever. That’s a direct order. You’re too close to it, and in any case it’s outside the Department’s mandate. Any interf
erence with the official investigation will be grounds for disciplinary action, dishonourable discharge, and/or imprisonment. Is that clear?”

  “Yes. That won’t be a problem,” Kane said with no inflection whatsoever. “Because I quit. Effective now. I’ll drop off my written resignation when I have time.”

  “John!” I hissed. “Think about this! You can’t just-”

  “I just did.”

  As Kane moved to press the disconnect button, Stemp spoke again. “Your resignation is accepted. Surrender your weapon and report to Sirius Dynamics for debriefing immediately.”

  The robotic voice fell again from Kane’s lips. “I’m giving my weapon to Aydan right now. She can turn it in. I’ll come in later for my debriefing.”

  “Come in immedi-”

  Before Stemp could finish the sentence Kane clicked off the phone. He was reaching for his holster when a commotion at the back door halted him.

  “…F-fine,” a too-loud voice insisted. “I’m f-” A hiccup interrupted the word before he finished, “Fine! Jus’… Jus’ leemee ‘lone…”

  “Aydan!” Linda’s call sounded strained. “Where are you?”

  “Here!”

  I hurried toward the voices, rounding the corner in time to see Spider stagger and carom off the wall next to the back door. His eyes were unfocused in his unnaturally flushed face and angry red blotches blazed on the pale skin of his throat. Linda braced her tiny frame against him in a futile attempt to stabilize him. On his other side, a slim baby-faced young man clung to Spider’s arm, his forehead crinkled with worry.

  “Aydan, I’m sorry, we’ll have to go now. Thank you so much for hosting our wedding shower.” Linda gave me a tight smile that was equal parts worry and anger. “Someone spiked Spider’s drink, and he’s allergic to alcohol.”

  “I’m sure it was that Tyler guy who came with his blind mother.” The slim young man shot a venomous glance over his shoulder through the still-open door. “He’s a total jerk, and I saw him with a hip flask.”

  “She’s not his mother,” Linda began, but I interrupted, studying Spider worriedly.

  “Should I call an ambulance?”

  “I think… umph.” Linda nearly buckled as Spider staggered again, bracing himself on her shoulder with a heavy hand. “I think he’ll be okay,” she continued after righting them both. “I’ve already given him an antihistamine and if he was going to have an anaphylactic reaction he likely would have already, but the drug is intensifying the effect of the alcohol…”

  “I’m really, reeeelly…” Noisy hiccup. “…drunk,” Spider informed us with a lopsided grin. “But don’ worry, Schw… Shweetie…” He attempted an inaccurate kiss and succeeded in thumping his forehead hard enough against Linda’s to make them both stagger. “I’ll be… f… f…” His eyelids drooped and he blinked heavily once. “…fine…”

  The word faded as his eyes dropped shut and his knees buckled. Kane sprang from behind me to seize Spider’s shoulders and lower him gently to the floor.

  “Ohmigod!” The baby-faced young man fell to his knees beside them, patting Spider’s face with shaking hands. “Spider! Spider! Ohmigod, say something!”

  “Give him air,” Kane said, and gently but firmly pushed the young man back.

  Linda was already kneeling beside Spider, fingers on his pulse. He mumbled something unintelligible, still smiling, but his eyes didn’t reopen.

  “Calm down, Tim,” Linda said. “I don’t think he’s in any danger. But I’m going to take him to the hospital just in case.”

  “Call an ambulance,” I urged. “Don’t take a chance on driving. If he gets worse…”

  I trailed off, unable to even speak the words.

  “I’ll get our friends to drive so I can ride with him in the back. Tim, go and get Grant and Red.” She turned back to me while Tim continued to wring his hands helplessly over Spider. “If there’s any problem, I can call the ambulance from the car, and it’ll be faster if we meet them on the way to town anyway.” She frowned. “Tim! Go!”

  He stared at her with his lips trembling, clearly beyond the point of any useful action, and she took him by the arm. “Aydan, John, please stay with Spider while I make the arrangements.”

  I nodded and she vanished out the door, a tiny but authoritative figure dragging the ineffectual Tim. In moments she returned with two burly young men and Lola, her wrinkled face uncharacteristically serious.

  The two young men loaded Spider’s pliant body into the car with a matter-of-fact mien that bespoke frequent experience with semi-conscious drunks, and minutes later they were gone.

  Lola patted my arm. “Don’t look so worried, honey,” she comforted. “He’s just a bit drunk. He’ll be okay. Remember, Linda’s a good nurse.”

  “I know…”

  I spared a moment of guilt over the fact that I was less worried about Spider than I was about Kane. His face was expressionless, but his hands were clenched in white-knuckled fists and the ghosts haunted his eyes again.

  No, not ghosts.

  Demons.

  The savage flames of his own personal hell flickered in his eyes, replaying his torturous march four months ago carrying a horribly abused child.

  I shuddered and turned back to Lola. “Can you do me a huge favour?”

  “Of course, honey. Name it.”

  Kane was heading for the door, looking ready to tear someone apart with his bare hands. I had no idea where he might be going, but it seemed like an exceptionally bad idea to let him go alone.

  “Um, John’s got a family emergency and we need to go.” I snatched up my waist pouch from beside the door and grabbed a spare key out of my kitchen drawer to hand to Lola. “Could you please host the party until everybody’s ready to leave and then lock up? Just snap the gate padlock shut on your way out and spin the combination.”

  “No problem.” Her bigger-than-life voice was filled with reassurance. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll handle it.”

  The door closed behind Kane, and Lola pulled me down to her level to murmur, “How bad is it?”

  I gulped, fighting the tightness in my throat, but all I could manage was a dry whisper.

  “It’s bad. It’s really bad.”

  Chapter 3

  Dashing out my front door, I caught up to Kane just as he was opening the driver’s door of his black Expedition.

  “Wait,” I panted. “Where are you going?”

  “Calgary.” He swung into the driver’s seat.

  “Whoa, hang on!” I wedged myself into the opening before he could swing the door shut. “Are you okay to drive?”

  “I’ve only had two beers over the last couple of hours. I’m not impaired.”

  I hadn’t been referring to his blood-alcohol levels, but he looked ready to peel out of there with me clinging to his door handle so I didn’t press the point.

  “Okay.” I eyed him worriedly. “I’m coming along. If I go around to the passenger’s side, will you promise to let me in? Or do I need to crawl over top of you from here?”

  The grim lines eased a fraction from his face and he pressed the lock release. “Go around. I promise to let you in.”

  “Thanks.” I circled around the front of the vehicle just in case, but I made it into the passenger’s seat without incident and he even waited for me to do up my seatbelt before stepping on the gas.

  When we reached the highway a few minutes later, he accelerated to just over the speed limit before activating the cruise control. He usually drove without it, but I guessed he didn’t trust himself today. His knuckles glowed white on the steering wheel.

  I reached over to brush my fingertips lightly over the back of his hand. “Try to relax a bit. If you do that for the next two hours you won’t be able to feel your hands by the time we get there.”

  He grunted assent and loosened his grip, then added, “Would you please call Hellhound? Put him on speaker.”

  I extracted my cell phone from my waist pouch and dialled, an
d a few moments later Hellhound’s cheerful rasp filled the cab. “Hey, Aydan, how ya doin’? How’s the party?”

  “Hi, Arnie.” I glanced at Kane’s rigid face and decided not to waste time on pleasantries. “I’m fine, but we have a situation. John and I are on our way to Calgary. I’ve got you on speaker so we can all talk.”

  “Shit, what’s wrong?”

  The muscles in Kane’s jaw rippled as though he was working to control his voice. “Do you know where Alicia is living now?”

  A short pause. “Nah,” Hellhound said cautiously. “Why?”

  “Can you find out?”

  “Well, sure, it ain’t rocket science. But why d’ya wanna know? Thought ya didn’t wanna have anythin’ to do with her.”

  “Get me her address and phone number. I’ll pay your usual P.I. rates.”

  “The hell ya will,” Hellhound growled. “Ya don’t hafta fuckin’ pay me. But, Cap…” He hesitated. “Sorry, I gotta know what’s goin’ on.”

  “I just found out she was pregnant when she divorced me.” Kane’s voice was tight with pain or anger, or probably both. “I have a six-year-old son. He was abducted today. I wouldn’t have known at all, except that the RCMP just finished questioning me.”

  “What the everlovin’ fuck?” Hellhound demanded, his gravelly voice rising to an incredulous shout.

  “I have to talk to her,” Kane ground out. “I have to see her. Find out… The fertility specialist said it was impossible. But…” His fists were clenched on the wheel again. “The police showed me a photo. He looks just like me. And she named him Daniel Wyatt…” His voice choked off and he swallowed audibly.

  “Fuck,” Hellhound repeated.

  “She must be lying.” Kane swallowed again. “Or the police got it wrong. It just can’t be. The specialist said it couldn’t happen.”

  My heart clutched. I knew he wasn’t denying it because he didn’t want a child. He just didn’t dare to hope.

  Hellhound hesitated. “I dunno about that, Cap. Remember when we were sittin’ in the bar after her last appointment? Ya said to me, ‘The specialist said it would be practically impossible for Alicia to get pregnant. He suggested we consider adoption. It’s over, Arnie; that was our last hope’. But it was you that said ‘no hope’, not the doc. ‘Practically impossible’ ain’t the same thing.”