How Spy I Am Page 6

  “Not enough food in her system yet,” Richardson observed as he rose and hurried in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll get some more orange juice.” When he handed me the small carton a few moments later, he turned a tentative expression toward Hellhound. “Sorry about…” He gestured at his gun. “Orders.”

  Hellhound nodded and I felt him relax. “Yeah, I figured. Thanks for not blowin’ me a new .40 calibre asshole.”

  “How you did you know Aydan was here?” Richardson asked.

  “News said she died in a car accident an’ the TV showed her Saturn all busted up an’ burned,” Hellhound replied as he propped his foot on the coffee table. “But I knew ya were drivin’ her, so I figured it hadta be a setup. I knew about this safe house from ‘way back so I kept checkin’ here. Saw the blinds closed today an’ damn if it wasn’t you that answered the door.” He shrugged, grinning. “Figured the chances were pretty good ya were hidin’ Aydan.”

  He turned to smile down at me and stroke my hair with a gentle hand. “Where ya been, darlin’? I been runnin’ around for fuckin’ days tryin’ to find ya.”

  “Stemp had me locked down and drugged.”

  “Stemp’s a cocksuckin’ asshat,” Hellhound growled. He dropped another kiss on my lips. “Sure sucked bein’ at your funeral not knowin’ for sure if ya were alive or dead.” His arm tightened around me. “Lotta upset people there. Ya got a lotta good friends, darlin’.”

  “Had. They still think I’m dead. Everybody thinks I’m dead.”

  “Yeah…” Hellhound said slowly.

  I jumped as the door clicked open, and we all froze at the sight of Stemp’s gun. Stemp stepped inside and took a rapid visual inventory of the room before lowering his weapon and leaning against the wall.

  “Helmand,” he said evenly. “Where’s Kane?”

  Hellhound shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

  “If you’re here, he won’t be far behind.” Stemp’s relaxed posture against the wall never changed, but his gaze darted constantly between the two entrances, the hallway beside him, and the three of us. “I should have known he’d enlist your help.”

  Hellhound snorted. “As if. When I called him to help me look for Aydan, he said she was dead, he was on leave, an’ he was gonna make up for lost time.”

  Stemp shot him a suspicious glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Dunno, but I’m guessin’ it means he’s gettin’ it on with this Honey chick he met. Hot blonde with big tits. Probl’y a stripper or somethin’.”

  I came very close to inhaling my orange juice. I gulped frantically, trying to hide my shock. I knew I’d failed when Stemp’s gaze darted back to me.

  “This must be a terrible shock for you,” Stemp said silkily. “You and he were so close.”

  I turned my choke into a snicker and tried for a cynical sneer. “I told you Kane wasn’t in love with me.” I cuddled closer to Hellhound and slid a hand up his thigh. “He wouldn’t waste his time. He knows I’ve been screwing his best friend for months.”

  I had to admire Stemp’s self-control. He managed to keep his reaction down to the tiniest twitch of his eyes, but I could almost see him reassessing and regrouping at light-speed.

  Hellhound’s arm tightened around me, and I gave Stemp a bland look, hoping Arnie was doing the same.

  Stemp’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “You’re lying. Kane investigated all significant relationships in your life. He didn’t report that.”

  I shrugged. “Probably because it’s not a significant relationship. I said I was screwing him. I didn’t say I was in love with him.”

  The silence was broken by sound of Richardson’s strangled cough as he ducked his head to rub the back of his neck.

  Hellhound chuckled. “What, ya never heard of a fuck-buddy before?”

  “This is irrelevant.” Stemp’s deadpan mask was firmly in place. “Helmand, a piece of advice. Stay out of our operations unless your involvement is specifically requested. Interference could prove hazardous to your health.”

  Hellhound snorted. “Fuck that. Your shit ain’t exactly been good for my health so far. Interferin’ ain’t gonna make a difference.”

  Stemp continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “However, since you’re here anyway, you can stay. It saves me the trouble of briefing you. Ms. Kelly, here is an overview of your new cover. You’ll receive a complete dossier tomorrow when you report for work at Sirius Dynamics.”

  He withdrew a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it over. I opened it slowly, hope rising. Work at Sirius Dynamics? So maybe I wouldn’t be relocated?

  I scanned hurriedly down the page, my jaw sagging as I absorbed its contents. The paper rattled in my trembling hand.

  I had to open and close my mouth a couple of times before a croak emerged. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Chapter 8

  I thought I detected malicious glee in Stemp’s eyes as he responded, “On the contrary, it’s a perfect cover. It allows you to remain here, it assures Fuzzy Bunny that you’re dead, and thanks to your own activities this summer, it’s already established. Completely plausible.”

  I peeled my tongue away from the roof of my dry mouth. “I’d prefer to be relocated, please.”

  “Not an option,” Stemp said. “All the paperwork is complete for your new identity, and in any case, Sirius Dynamics is the only installation in Canada that contains the necessary technology to support your project. I explained all of this in our last interview.”

  “I… uh… I… missed that part…” My mind spun its wheels frantically. Come to think of it, I did vaguely remember Stemp’s lips still moving after he’d dropped the bomb about Kane and my car and my reported death.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  “What, darlin’?” Hellhound’s impatient rasp jarred my attention back to the room. “What’s wrong?”

  I pulled away to stare at him, feeling as though the blood had been drained from my body and replaced with water.

  I couldn’t even say it. I handed him the paper.

  His gaze zigzagged rapidly down the page, and he let out a bellow of laughter. “Jesus Christ, that’s fuckin’ perfect! Literally!”

  He fell back on the couch, still laughing. At last, he struggled upright again, gasping and wiping his eyes. “My dream’s come true, darlin’. I always wanted to bone a porn star.”

  “What?” Richardson snatched the paper out of his hand and did some speed-reading of his own, his mouth slowly dropping open as he scanned.

  I turned to meet Stemp’s inscrutable gaze. “There’s no way this will work,” I implored. “I’m pushing fifty, for chrissake. Nobody wants to see a woman my age in a porn movie.”

  “You underestimate yourself,” he replied.

  Before I could decide whether that was complimentary or insulting, he continued, “In fact, you already have a dedicated following on the internet. Or, I should say, Arlene Cherry has a dedicated following.”

  “Oh, please,” I begged, ignoring Hellhound’s quaking bulk beside me. “Cherry? Seriously? At my age?”

  A snicker burst out of Hellhound.

  Stemp shrugged. “I didn’t make up the name. Lawrence Harchman did.”

  Revolting comprehension filled me. “The red cherry-scented leather. Arlene Cherry. I’m going to hunt down that slime-sucking little shitweasel and twist his tiny, pathetic dick into a pretzel-”

  Stemp interrupted, “That’s an excellent idea. Minus the assault, of course. It would be very helpful in establishing your cover…”

  “Fuck that!” I rocketed to my feet. “Fuck him…”

  “You already did that,” Stemp said, and this time there was no mistaking the evil gleam in his eye. “In fact, you did it in some extremely varied and creative ways. I was impressed.”

  “I didn’t!” My face was hot enough to melt every snowflake inside a two-mile radius. “You know those videos were fake, he’s such a little slimeball…”

  “Red
cherry-scented leather?” Hellhound broke in. “Hey, darlin’, ya been holdin’ out on me. When do I get to see it?”

  “I don’t own any,” I snapped. “Harchman is a disgusting little zit on the ass-end of the world-”

  “Nevertheless,” Stemp interrupted. Apparently tired of tormenting me, he addressed us in matter-of-fact tones. “The official story for Ms. Kelly’s friends and acquaintances is that Ms. Kelly drove down to Calgary to visit you, Helmand, and while she was there she received a message that her aunt had been taken ill in Victoria. Ms. Kelly rushed to the airport and flew to Victoria, where she remained for several days, unaware that her car had been stolen and involved in a fatality accident. By the time she returned to Calgary and discovered the case of mistaken identity, her funeral was already over.”

  He nodded to me. “Ms. Kelly, I’m sure you’ll enjoy many happy reunions as a result. In the process of those reunions, you will ask your friends to keep the news of your survival inside their immediate group, because while in Victoria, you were mistaken by the media for an internet porn star. Understandably, you don’t wish to attract further attention.”

  “Can’t we come up with something else instead?” I pleaded. “Can’t we say I’m being threatened by my ex-husband and I have to lie low or something?”

  “No,” Stemp said. “That would be too easy to disprove, and it would raise questions as to why you don’t involve the police. Besides, the wheels are already in motion. Even as we speak, the news media is seizing upon a story about Arlene Cherry, an internet star with a sizeable underground following of middle-aged men who…” he cleared his throat. “…enjoy voyeuristic amateur porn.”

  “Ms. Cherry…” Stemp inclined his head in my direction. “…is known to the police as a small-time con artist whose real name is Arlene Widdenback. She has a few minor convictions and has been incarcerated on three separate occasions for fraud.”

  I tried to close my ears to the spluttering sounds of mirth emanating from Hellhound’s direction while Stemp continued, “The media will report that Ms. Cherry, or rather, Ms. Widdenback, has recently been identified living in the small town of Silverside, Alberta, using the identity of one Aydan Kelly.”

  I knotted both hands in my hair and sank back down onto the sofa in despair. Stemp raised his voice slightly to talk over my groan.

  “The real Aydan Kelly, of course, is recently dead, and all official records will indicate that. Ms. Kelly, your assets are now being held in a numbered company, and you will still have full access to them through our system. However, all publicly accessible records will indicate that you are Arlene Widdenback. You will be issued appropriate identification in that name tomorrow.”

  I emerged from the shelter of my hands to beg Stemp one last time. “Isn’t there any other option?”

  “No. This is the best-case scenario, since the videos pre-date Aydan Kelly’s official death and the woman in the videos is unquestionably you. If they’re suspicious, Fuzzy Bunny will be looking for identities that begin to show activity around the time you died.”

  Stemp gave me an almost-sympathetic look. “You may, of course, publicly deny that you are Arlene Widdenback. In fact, I encourage you to do so, as vociferously as possible. Controversial media coverage will serve to keep you in the public eye and fuel our disinformation campaign, all helping to assure Fuzzy Bunny that you are actually Arlene Cherry, not Aydan Kelly. God bless the media.”

  He gave me a short, mocking bow. “Ms. Widdenback, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please report to Sirius Dynamics tomorrow morning for your complete briefing and dossier.” He turned to Richardson. “Please return her weapon before she leaves tonight.” He strode out, leaving a gaping silence behind him.

  I collapsed slowly forward to bury my face in the couch. “Somebody, please, kill me now,” I implored the sofa cushions.

  Chapter 9

  The silence stretched, and I suspected both men were using the time to adjust their faces to appropriate expressions of sympathy. I didn’t rush them.

  Eventually, I felt Hellhound’s hands on my shoulders. “Come on, darlin’, it ain’t that bad.”

  I could still hear the smile in his voice, and I groaned as I let him lift me away from my fervent communion with the couch.

  “You’re right. It’s not that bad. It’s much, much worse.” I hid my face against his chest, avoiding Richardson’s eyes. I wasted a few moments willing my heart to stop but it kept beating away, cheerfully oblivious to my humiliation.

  “Aw, come on now.” Arnie raised my chin and smiled down at me. “Don’t worry, darlin’, your friends know that fraud an’ porn stuff ain’t true, an’ ya don’t hafta give a shit what anybody else thinks.”

  I blew out a long breath and thumped my forehead softly against his shoulder a couple of times before straightening up. “You’re right. I guess.” I gave Richardson a quick, embarrassed glance before turning back to Arnie. “I’m really glad you didn’t get in trouble over this. Thanks for looking for me.”

  “No problem, darlin’.” Hellhound heaved himself to his feet, reaching a hand down to me. “Come on, I’ll take ya home.”

  I stood slowly, still quivering with reaction. “Um… Good night, Mark.”

  “Uh… see you tomorrow, I guess.” He didn’t quite meet my eyes when he handed over my Glock.

  Belted into the passenger seat of Arnie’s SUV, I turned to speak, but he held a finger to his lips and put the vehicle in gear. When we cleared the town’s few streetlights and got up to speed on the dark highway I turned to him again in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, raising my eyebrows.

  He shot a glance in the rearview mirror before slowing to turn onto a deserted country road. About a half-mile off the highway, he nosed the SUV onto a crossing and stopped, cutting the lights.

  My eyes quickly adjusted to the pale reflection of moonlight from the snowy fields, and I raised my eyebrows inquiringly again. He shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket to withdraw one of the small scanning devices from Sirius Dynamics.

  I frowned at him and he shrugged, giving me a grin. Stemp sure as hell wouldn’t hand out that kind of technology to civilian private investigators, so Spider must have sneaked it to him. Relief eased my shoulders at the thought.

  When Arnie activated the scanner, we both stiffened at the sight of the flashing red light.

  He moved the scanner methodically over the interior of the vehicle, and I watched the rhythm of the flashes with my heart in my mouth. The cadence slowed on his side of the truck, but accelerated as he approached my side.

  At his gesture, I eased the door latch open as soundlessly as possible and stepped out into the snow. As he moved the device back and forth over the passenger side the flashes continued but the rhythm remained the same, speeding up slightly when the device neared the seat.

  Arnie frowned and retraced his pattern with the same result. Slower on his side, faster on the passenger side. I leaned into the warmth of the vehicle, shivering in the frosty breeze. This time the flashes sped up when the scanner approached the passenger seat, but still failed to achieve the solid red that would indicate the bug’s position.

  Hellhound grimaced in frustration, and I leaned in to point at a likely-looking spot near the seatbelt buckle.

  The light glowed solid red as my arm skimmed by.

  We both jerked back, staring at each other.

  I slowly extended my arm, trying to control trembling that had nothing to do with the cold. The flashes accelerated as Arnie eased the scanner closer. When he held it against my arm, the red light glowed like a beacon for the damned.

  I crept back into the SUV and clicked the door closed before stripping off my jacket. Once again, the scanner shone steady red over the half-healed wound on my arm, and fury filled me.

  They’d tagged me like a goddamn animal.

  I could fix that.

  I groped in my waist pouch for my razor-sharp folding knife.

  When I e
xtracted it Arnie caught my wrist, and I looked up to see his scowl and headshake. I made a face and tried to pull free, but he shook his head vigorously and his hand clamped down. The sudden implacable grip was so unlike his habitual gentleness that a flashback to the terror of captivity made me gasp and jerk back.

  He released me instantly, his still-bruised face twisting into horrified remorse, and I cursed myself for my lack of control.

  Our hurried pantomime of ‘I’m-so-sorry-I-didn’t-mean-to-hurt-you’-‘It’s-okay-you-didn’t-hurt-me-I’m-fine’ might have looked funny to an outside observer, but I knew exactly how serious it was for him.

  I took both his hands in mine and brushed kisses over them before holding them to my cheek. His face relaxed, and I leaned over to hug and kiss him. His hands touched me tentatively, and I grasped them to pull his arms firmly around me.

  A long moment later, I pulled away to give him a smile before waving a frustrated hand at the mark on my arm. He shook his head and mimed writing, and I groped in my waist pouch for a pen and a scrap of paper.

  Arnie flicked on the dome light, and a moment later, I squinted at his scrawl. “Let me talk to Webb first.”

  I blew out a sigh of acquiescence and flopped back in the seat. He gave a sigh of his own and spoke aloud as he flipped the headlights back on and put the SUV in gear.

  “Let’s get ya home, darlin’.”

  Parked outside my farmhouse, I turned to him. “Are you coming in?”

  “Yeah.”

  We both got out, shuffling through the fluffy snow on my walk. At the front steps, I turned to stop him. “Just let me sweep the stairs off first. You don’t need to slip and sprain your other ankle.”

  His gaze twitched toward the eaves where we both knew one of the surveillance cameras was located, but he nodded and said ‘Thanks’ in a rare moment of compliance.

  When we stepped inside the house, I drew a long breath. Home. Still my home. At least for now.