Tell Me No Spies Page 7

  Kane leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, and sank his chin onto his chest. “I never knew the details.” He stared straight ahead. “We never get details. Just enough to carry out the order. Your husband… Robert had been deep undercover for twenty-four years when they discovered he’d gone rogue. Intel said he would move that day, so I had to act fast. I slipped him a drug at a business dinner.”

  He met my eyes then. “I’m sorry, Aydan. We knew his habits. He was supposed to go and work out at the gym like he always did on Tuesdays. The drug would cause a heart attack as soon as he exerted himself.”

  The empty juice box collapsed with a hollow crunch in my clenched hand. “But he didn’t. He came home to me instead. We started to make love. And he died in my arms. I’ve been living with that ever since.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but sighed instead. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Too late to be sorry about anything now.” I dragged myself up off the couch and wobbled toward the door.

  Kane stood quickly and placed a firm hand under my elbow. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “You’re in no shape to drive right now. I’ll take you. We still have something else to talk about anyway.”

  I looked up into his troubled face. “No, I really don’t think we do.”

  “Aydan,” he said urgently. “What we had… this summer… that was real for me.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Aydan, you have to believe me. I would never do anything to hurt you. I’ve never lied to you.”

  I pushed down my anger and pain and kept my voice level. “No, murdering my husband wouldn’t be likely to hurt me, would it? But I agree, you didn’t lie to me outright. When I think back to it, you gave me the whole ‘do you love me’ speech this summer, but you never once said you loved me. You just made it sound like you did.”

  I shrugged again. “That’s my favourite trick, too, when I don’t want to actually lie to somebody. Tell unrelated truths, ask questions that sound like they’re answers. You talked about love, but you never lied to me in so many words. So thanks. At least I don’t have to worry about hurting your feelings anymore.”

  I turned away.

  “Aydan…” The rawness in his voice made me turn back to see what looked like anguish in his eyes.

  I blew out a breath through my teeth. “Jesus, John, the Oscar’s in the mail already. Can the act, okay? It’s getting old.”

  I left him standing in my office and hauled myself down to my car.

  Chapter 9

  I drove home without seeing the familiar road. My mind yammered ceaselessly, trying to find grounding in a worldview that had been completely upended. My Robert, so quiet and unassuming, so dependable. An undercover agent for twenty-four years. Twenty-four years! That was as long as I’d known him.

  I slowed to take the corner onto my gravel road, autopilot guiding my hands while I thought back. How I’d met Robert right after I’d begun dating my first husband. How he’d determinedly pursued me until I told him I’d already promised to marry Steven. The way he’d hovered in the background for the next miserable years of my life until my marriage ended. How he’d been there for me. How he’d patiently and persistently wormed his way into my heart over the next six years. How I’d finally agreed to marry him, not because I wanted to be married, but because I just couldn’t bear to hurt such a sweet man.

  How much of that had been lies? Spies lied. It was what they did. But why would he expend so much time and energy on me?

  The car skidded, crunching to a halt on the gravel as I braked hard at my driveway. Icy horror slithered down my throat and coiled itself around my heart.

  Oh, God. Oh, God, no.

  I sat paralyzed with my foot jammed on the brake as the monstrous thought flared into sickening suspicion. Sam Kraus. Working for Sirius all these years. Brainwave-driven networks a specialty. The tests, three times a year since I was four years old.

  They couldn’t.

  They wouldn’t.

  I sucked in the breath I’d forgotten to draw and stiffly guided the car down my driveway.

  The persistent ‘recruiter’ from U of C, when I was in Grade 12. He’d tried so hard, seemed so irritated when I chose to take drafting at SAIT instead of… what had he wanted me to take? Computer science. And then Robert had shown up a few months later.

  I pulled into my garage, hands trembling on the wheel. How long had they been controlling me? Since childhood? My father died of a heart attack… Oh, God, had they killed him, too? And what about my mother? I was only seventeen when she died in that car accident. They told me it had been an accident…

  I was gasping jerky breaths, hysteria building. Trapped. Utterly controlled by others. No allies left. All my family dead. No way to find the truth.

  I clamped down hard on control. Suck it up. Nothing had changed. The dead were long dead, and nothing would bring them back. I was doing valuable work, helping to protect our country. Never mind that I’d been manipulated into doing it. It was still the right thing to do.

  Logic didn’t help.

  I had to know if they’d killed my family. I had to know if they had been controlling me all along. I needed more information, and I knew I wouldn’t get it from Stemp.

  Idiot. I should have stayed in the network and gathered all the information I possibly could. By now, Stemp would have locked everything down.

  I shook myself and peeled my fingers loose from their deathgrip on the steering wheel. I had one faint hope left. One distant family member they’d missed, as far as I knew. It was probably too late, but I had to try.

  And maybe, just maybe, I could find an ally. If Arnie would help me.

  I strode for the house as quickly as my trembling legs would carry me.

  My mind whirled while I stuffed my mouth with leftovers, swallowing without tasting. I had to get to my one remaining aunt before anybody else did. I could drive to Calgary tonight, spend the night, and head for the coast in the morning. Sirius owed me some time off, and Kane was always encouraging me to take it. Fine. Their precious decryptions could wait a few days.

  I jammed my dirty dishes into the dishwasher and went into the bedroom to stuff some clothes into my backpack. Minutes later, I was on the highway. I stopped in Drumheller to buy some snacks for the road, then hauled out my cell phone to dial Hellhound’s number.

  “Yeah.” His sexy, gravelly voice tickled my eardrum.

  “Hi, Arnie, it’s Aydan.”

  “Oh… Hi, darlin’.” He sounded wary. My heart sank.

  I kept my tone light and cheerful. “I’m heading into town tonight. Are you going to be around?”

  “Uh… no, I’m tied up tonight. Actually, I’m gonna be busy all week. Sorry ‘bout that. Maybe next time.”

  Shit. I knew the brushoff when I heard it.

  I held my voice steady as I replied, “Okay. Maybe next time, then. Take care.”

  “You, too. ’Bye.”

  I resisted the urge to pitch my phone across the parking lot. Goddammit! I’d never known Hellhound to turn down a chance to get laid. Now my last hope for an ally had faded, I didn’t have a place to stay, and I hated to run up my credit card by getting a hotel room in Calgary. This trip was going to be expensive enough as it was.

  I fumed for a few minutes before heaving a deep sigh of resignation and dialling again reluctantly.

  The perky hello at the other end made me wince. I just knew this wouldn’t end well. Maybe I should go to a hotel after all…

  “Hi, Nichele.”

  “Aydan!” Her squeal made me jerk the phone a few inches away from my ear. “How the hell are you, girl? I haven’t heard from you for so long, I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth!”

  I couldn’t help smiling. She had routinely shoved me far outside my comfort zone ever since we were kids, but Nichele’s fearless and flamboyant pe
rsonality still made her one of my favourite friends. And it didn’t hurt that her aggressive investing as my stockbroker had made me good money even while it gave me fits.

  “Not quite, I’ve just been buried at work lately.”

  I pictured her bouncing eyebrows and lascivious grin as she purred into the phone, “I’d stay buried at work, too, if I was working with a hot hunk o’ man like John. Did you get it on with him yet?”

  “…Uh.”

  “You did! Aydan, you have to tell me all about it! Oh-em-gee, he’s sooo hot! Tell me he was good!”

  “Uh…”

  “He wasn’t? Oh, no, don’t tell me he wasn’t good!”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you that. Listen, Nichele -”

  “I don’t believe you. He had to be good. With a body like that? And what a package that man has, Aydan. You can’t tell me he wasn’t good, girl. It’ll destroy my faith in mankind.”

  “Yes! He was good! He was fucking amazing, literally fucking amazing, and it’s over, and it’s never going to happen again! Now can we please talk about something else?”

  “Oh, girl, no wonder you’re cranky. You come right on down to Calgary, and I’ll fix you up with somebody. You just need to get your Eggs Benny heated up again, and everything’ll be fine.”

  I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand, willing the tension headache away. “Skip the fix-up, but that’s actually why I’m calling. I’m on my way down. Can I stay with you tonight?”

  “Aydan!” I winced again and held the phone at a safer distance. “Girl, you know you don’t even need to ask. When will you be here?”

  “About an hour and half.”

  “You just leave it all to me. You’re going to be smiling by the end of the night, I promise.”

  “Nichele, sorry to be a party pooper, but I’m really tired, I have a headache, and I’m pissed off. All I want is a beer and a bed.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing, girl, you’ll get all that and more. See you soon! Bye-bye!”

  The phone clicked in my ear, and I scowled as I stowed it in my waist pouch again. Already, I smelled trouble.

  By the time I’d fought my way into downtown Calgary and paid my pound of flesh to park at Nichele’s upscale condo building, my temper was even more frayed and my head throbbed relentlessly. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and trudged to the elevators with a sense of foreboding. I knew better than to believe Nichele would heed my desire for a quiet night.

  At my knock her door popped open, and she flung her arms around me and dragged me inside. “Girl, it is sooo good to see you! Here.”

  She took my backpack and handed me an ice-cold bottle of Corona, complete with the wedge of lime jammed in the neck. I sank into her buttery-soft leather sofa with a groan and sucked back a long, long swallow.

  “Nichele, you’re the best friend in the world.” I gulped another generous slug as she curled up in the overstuffed chair opposite, grinning.

  A few beers and some lively banter later, I lay back on the sofa, sides aching while I wiped tears of laughter from my eyes. The raw tension was gone from my muscles and the headache had miraculously subsided in the presence of alcohol and upbeat company.

  Nichele eyed me mischievously. “Do you need another beer, or are you finally ready to act like a human being?”

  I let out a cavernous belch, just because I could. “This is as human as it gets. And I’d better quit.”

  “Okay. Come on, I have something to show you.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me off the couch. In the guest room, she pointed toward the bed. “Put that on.”

  I regarded the sexy brown leather top for a few seconds before shooting her a suspicious glare. “Why?”

  “Because that T-shirt won’t work for where we’re going.”

  “We’re not going anywhere. It’s ten o’clock at night, I’m drunk, and I’m going to bed.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not. You’re coming out with me, and you’re going to meet Dante. And he’s going to show you a gooooood time.” She bounced her eyebrows. “Trust me, I’ve already taken this one for a test drive. Talk about Dante’s Inferno!”

  “Nichele, I told you…”

  “Girl, shut up and get that top on.” Before I could protest, she’d dragged my T-shirt over my head. Lucky I’d worn my ankle holster instead of my waist holster.

  She eyed my bra critically. “At least you wear sexy underwear under all those crappy T-shirts. Here.” She threw the top at me. “Put it on. Or I’ll tickle you.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would. I’ll tickle you until you pee.”

  “That only happened once. When we were five.”

  She advanced on me with fingertips wiggling, and I yanked the top on hurriedly. With that much beer in my system, I couldn’t afford to take a chance.

  “That’s better.” Nichele surveyed me smugly.

  I squinted at myself in the mirror. “Jesus, Nichele, where are we going? A street corner on Third Avenue? This thing’s so tight you can see my friggin’ pores through it. And if I make a sudden move, the girls are going to fall right out of this low-cut neckline.”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared with mock severity. “If you stop bitching right now, I won’t make you put on makeup.”

  “Okay, okay!”

  I know when I’m beaten.

  She prattled happily while we zipped to the downtown club district in her bright-red Mazda Miata. The evening air was still warm, and the breeze from the open convertible top blew my hair around my face. I clutched the armrest as she darted into a tiny parking spot with an airy wave at the horn-honking driver behind her.

  “Come on, comb your hair and let’s go.” Nichele bounced eagerly on the sidewalk, and I smiled despite my misgivings.

  “Just hold on a second.” I delved into my waist pouch for my hairbrush, and she snorted.

  “Do you really have to wear that thing? You’re a walking fashion faux pas.”

  “Bite me. This was your idea, not mine.”

  She smirked. “You’ll be thanking me later.”

  “I seriously doubt it.”

  On the sidewalk, I tugged at the tight top, unable to decide whether to pull it up to cover my half-exposed boobs or down to conceal the bared muffin-top hanging over my jeans. I groaned. Definitely hide the muffin-top. At least the top was tight enough to hold the fat roll in place once it was covered.

  As I squirmed and pulled at the top, Nichele shot me a quizzical glance. “Aydan, what are you doing?”

  “Trying to hide my dinner roll,” I gritted. “I hate this top.”

  “You don’t have a dinner roll, girl. And you’re totally hot in that top. Come on. Dante’s waiting.”

  I smothered another groan and followed her along the sidewalk, only half-listening to her bright chatter.

  “Hey, shithead, cut it out!”

  My brain re-engaged at her sudden cry as she darted down an alley. Man, that girl was fast on four-inch heels. I pivoted and followed her with a sinking feeling.

  Sure enough, she’d found trouble. As she dashed up to him, a clean-cut frat-boy aimed another kick at the huddled figure on the ground.

  “Leave him alone!” Nichele got up in Frat-boy’s face, still several inches shorter even in her high heels. “You little shit, you leave him alone! He’s not hurting anybody!”

  Frat-boy’s buddy stepped out of the shadows, and I picked up the pace so I could pull Nichele away and place our backs to a wall. Frat-boy shot a glance at his companion and they both smiled, just two nice all-American boys. Not.

  “Chill, lady, that bum was mouthing off,” Frat-boy mumbled.

  Nichele’s fists clenched around her elegant French manicure. “So you little pissants decided to tune him up. Oh, that’s really brave. Are you compensating for your tiny dick, or are you just trying to impress your boyfriend here?”

  The homeless guy had been edging away during the conversation, and now he clambered t
o his feet and shuffled rapidly away down the alley. Great. Frat-boy’s face twisted in rage, and he took a step toward us.

  Adrenaline surged into my veins. I had my gun, but I didn’t want to draw it in front of Nichele. And the ankle holster was damn hard to reach unobtrusively.

  Nichele practically spat contempt. “What are you going to do? Beat us up? You might get away with roughing up some poor rubbie, but your ass is going to jail for a long time if you assault us.”

  “’Specially if ya do it in front of a witness.” I jerked with shock as Hellhound’s solid bulk interposed itself between us and the two kids.

  They took a quick step back from his ugly bearded face and bulging tattooed arms. Then they exchanged a glance, and a metallic gleam appeared in Frat-boy’s hand. Oh, shit.

  “Two witnesses.” A silver-haired man in a suit materialized beside Arnie. At first glance, I almost mistook him for a typical middle-aged businessman, but something about his face and his bulky, hard-looking body rang warning bells in my brain.

  Apparently the two kids were hearing warning bells, too. Frat-boy spat derisively and stuck the knife back up his sleeve as they turned and left.

  Arnie turned slowly. “Ya okay, darlin’?”

  “Yeah, fine. Thanks for the rescue.”

  “And thank you, too!” Nichele gazed up at the man in the suit, her eyes shining.

  He smiled down at her with interest as he took in her glossy dark hair and the curvy body flattered by her clingy dress. “My pleasure, I assure you.”

  “I’m Nichele Brown.” She extended her hand.

  “How delightful to meet you. I’m James Helmand.” He took her hand and held it.

  Oh, shit. I shot a glance at Arnie’s unhappy face.

  He blew out a breath. “Aydan, this’s my brother Jim. Jim, Aydan.”

  “A pleasure.” He held my hand a few seconds too long, studying me with striking hazel eyes, and I resisted the urge to pull away.

  As soon as he released me, I turned to Arnie. “I thought you were working tonight.”

  He kicked a booted foot gently at an empty beer can, watching it clatter against the wall. “I am. I was followin’ somebody when I saw ya go in here, an’ I figured ya were in trouble. I gotta go. Come on, Jim.” He turned back toward the sidewalk.