Spy High Page 8

  Watching him carefully, I said, “I’m friends with Karma and Moonbeam’s son.”

  No reaction other than an interested nod that encouraged me to go on. Either he was an excellent actor, or he wasn’t an enemy.

  But if he was an enemy, he’d likely be an excellent actor.

  Shit.

  “That’s nice,” Orion prompted. “But it doesn’t really answer my question.”

  I shook myself back to the situation at hand. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second there. Too tired after all this traipsing around in the middle of the night.”

  He chuckled. “It’s only ten o’clock. Not exactly the middle of the night. So, you were saying…?”

  Damn, he was persistent.

  “Um, yeah. Well, I was pretty stressed out and Cosmic River Stone thought this would be a great place for me to relax and decompress. He asked Moonbeam and Karma if I could stay with them a while, and here I am.”

  “Work stress?”

  “Um…” I stopped myself before I could fall into the trap of agreeing. Most people didn’t wake up screaming every night because of too much paperwork at the office.

  “It was more than that, wasn’t it?” Orion asked quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” I tried to temper the abruptness of my response by adding, “Thanks, but no. I did go through a bad time, but I’ve been having regular phone sessions with a psychologist and I’m better now.”

  “Oh, that would be the Dr. Rawling who phones every Wednesday.”

  “Uh, yeah, every second Wednesday now.” Damn communal phone, everybody knew everybody else’s business. “I didn’t want to inconvenience anybody so I always tried to be there when he phoned for our appointments,” I added. “But I guess I didn’t always succeed.”

  “It must have been pretty bad, what you went through.” Orion glanced over again, but I couldn’t tell whether it was concern or prurient curiosity in his shadowed face. “You did a lot of screaming at night.”

  “Yeah,” I said shortly. The path to my tent looked like a pale ribbon of salvation in the moonlight ahead of us, and I drew a breath of relief. “Well, thanks for the light. Goodnight.”

  I hurried to my tent and ducked inside without waiting for a reply.

  Sinking onto my cot with a long breath, I rested my aching forehead in my hands. I hadn’t wanted to be reminded of my nightmares. Hadn’t wanted to feel this fearful suspicion again. Had really wanted to believe this was a safe place and Orion was simply a handsome man with no hidden agendas.

  Well, you don’t always get what you want.

  I sighed and dug another secured phone out of my bag.

  Chapter 9

  Weighing the burner phone in my hand, I stared at the moon-dappled canvas around me.

  How long before I could leave my tent unnoticed?

  Orion had said ten o’clock wasn’t late, so how long would he stay up? And did he sleep soundly enough for me to sneak by without waking him once he did go to sleep?

  If he had been anybody else in the entire commune I could have walked on by and pretended I was going to the latrine, but with my luck he’d offer to accompany me for ‘safety’.

  Maybe my report to Stemp could wait until morning…

  I suppressed a groan and massaged my temples. Or maybe Orion was planning something tonight and delaying my report could mean the difference between life and death for Moonbeam and Karma. Or for me.

  Christ, I hated this.

  I shook off that unproductive thought. Focus.

  Reporting to Stemp tonight wouldn’t save any lives. He couldn’t change anything from there. But if something did happen tonight and I ended up dead, at least my report might help him react faster and with more precision.

  I thumped my forehead gently with the phone. Shit, stop overreacting. Nobody’s going to die.

  So Orion had gone into Karma and Moonbeam’s tent while they were gone, so what? It wasn’t like I’d caught him stalking them with a weapon. And anyway, they might have asked him to go in and get something when they’d spoken to him on the path.

  That must have been it.

  I let out a slow breath, trying to release my tension along with it. There would be a simple explanation. This was nothing to worry about.

  Probably.

  But I didn’t dare ignore it.

  Growling under my breath, I shed my jacket and crouched to rummage in the duffel bag under my cot. A rustle from outside froze me in place, my breath stopping while I strained my ears. Was that human or animal? Or only the wind?

  Long moments passed while I squatted immobile, listening. At last I decided it must have been my imagination and pulled out my lockbox, stopping to listen again before I thumbed in the combination.

  When it opened, I withdrew my new shoulder holster and a spare magazine before relocking the box and stuffing it deep in the bag. I transferred my Glock and magazine to the shoulder rig and put it on, feeling reassured of a quicker draw if I encountered the cougar. Then I donned my jacket, tucked my big flashlight into the pocket along with the phone, and took my tiny LED light out of my waist pouch. After a few more moments of listening beside my tent flap, I eased outside.

  The moonlit darkness was silent. No sound or light emanated from Orion’s tent, but I didn’t trust that to mean he was asleep. The man kept popping up where I least expected him.

  Flicking my tiny light over the undergrowth, I stepped into the forest as quietly as possible, circling behind our tents and giving Orion’s a wide berth. My back tingled with the sensation of being watched, but I couldn’t tell whether it was nervousness at the thought of getting caught by Orion or fear of the cougar.

  My pulse bounding at every night noise, I resisted the urge to draw my gun but I slid my hand inside my jacket for reassurance. The comforting feel of the pistol grip eased the jittery nerves in my stomach, and after nearly twenty minutes of stealthy movement through the forest I intersected the main road at last.

  Walking in plain view on the road was probably more dangerous than sticking to the woods, but the moonlight and open space made me draw a breath of relief nonetheless. In the brighter open area my tiny flashlight had little effect, and I tucked it back into my waist pouch before moving cautiously out of the forest.

  Every sense on alert, I strode along the shoulder of the road, my hand hovering near my gun. The trees seemed to lean farther over the road than usual, their branches reaching for me like dark skeletal hands. The blackness of the understory pulsed with menace.

  I straightened my spine. Dammit, I liked being outside at night. It wasn’t any more dangerous than the middle of the day when the forest looked soft and green and welcoming. In fact, I was probably safer now. Far less chance of meeting someone from the commune.

  Less chance of meeting someone innocent, anyway.

  Well, that thought hadn’t been quite as reassuring as I’d hoped.

  Jeez, relax, already. Just enjoy the silence and moonlight.

  When nothing untoward happened after several minutes of walking I switched to deeper belly breaths, easing out my accumulated tension. At last I withdrew the phone and punched the speed dial, still walking.

  “Stemp.” He sounded as wide-awake as if it had been the middle of the day.

  “It’s Aydan. I caught Orion sneaking into your parents’ tent tonight when they weren’t there. They might have asked him to; I saw them talking to him right before he went in. But I wanted to report it just in case.”

  “Did he spot you?”

  “Not until after he was out, and he wouldn’t have had any reason to believe I’d seen him go in.” At least that’s what I hoped. “And he’s been asking a lot of questions under the guise of wanting to get to know me better. I’ve been asking a few in return and there haven’t been any red flags yet, but… I’ve just got this feeling…” I broke off, imagining his expressionless face. “Sorry,” I added. “I know that’s useless. I’ll keep digging.”

  To my sur
prise, Stemp said, “Your gut feeling is never useless. You have good instincts, and in our line of work that’s sometimes the only thing that keeps us alive. Get close to Moonjava and find out whatever you can using any means you consider appropriate.” A hint of dryness tinged his voice. “Within the scope of the law.”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  I was glad he couldn’t see me because I was pretty sure I was blushing. I wasn’t proud of the way I’d handled my last mission, but thanks to me Kane was alive and a major criminal organization was all but destroyed.

  But maybe some important part of me had been destroyed in the process…

  I jerked my mind back to the conversation at hand. “Should I ask your parents about it?” I asked. “If they told him to go into their tent, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Silence hummed on the line for a few moments. “True,” Stemp said at last. “But if they didn’t…” He sighed. “My parents tend to be… direct. They’d confront Moonjava, potentially causing an overt conflict and blowing your cover in the process. If Moonjava has been there nearly four months without attacking them, it means he’s either innocent or he’s planning something more complicated than a simple assault. So no; don’t mention it to them, and continue to observe. I’ll send you night-vision equipment.”

  “Okay.” Something rustled in the undergrowth and I caught my breath, my hand flying to my Glock. Wishing I had night vision now while I peered into the blackness with my heart thumping, I lowered my voice. “We had a Spirit Calling with fireworks tonight. Why didn’t you brief me about that? I nearly pulled my gun in front of Orion, and he noticed me twitching.”

  “I apologize.” Stemp sounded as though he meant it. “I had forgotten about the fireworks. We only had them on a couple of occasions in the eighteen years I lived there.”

  There was no further sound or movement from the woods and I started walking again, casting nervous glances around me. “Do you know why they do it or how they decide whether it’s fireworks time? And why do they set them off when everybody’s in the building so we can’t even watch them?”

  “I have no idea.” Stemp’s emotionless tones dissolved into uncharacteristic frustration. “As far as I can determine, the Earth Spirit is entirely a fabrication of my parents’ imagination. When I questioned them as a teenager, their explanation was nothing but hyperbole and circular reasoning. The Callings…” He gave the word a sarcastic inflection. “…appear to be completely random, at whatever interval my parents arbitrarily decide, however inconvenient that may be. The use of fireworks also appears entirely arbitrary. We would go for months or years without them, then sometimes have them several times in succession.”

  “The ritual was a little different tonight, too,” I said. “They brought the crystal down onto the floor in the main building, and they turned on spotlights and some kind of noise generator in the field afterward.”

  “Yes, those details are consistent with what I experienced as a child. Again, I don’t know why, and my parents provided unsatisfactory explanations.” He hesitated before continuing, “The maddening thing is that my parents are otherwise brilliant people. They each hold several academic degrees and doctorates in various disciplines, and the education they provide in the commune’s school is second to none. It escapes me why they choose to waste their lives in pursuit of some imaginary deity, surrounded by drug-wasted losers and vapid directionless seekers of Truth and Meaning.” I could hear the acerbic capital letters in his tone.

  I’d seen Stemp remain completely unaffected in situations that would have made any normal man rant and tear his hair. If his parents annoyed him enough to express actual emotion, I definitely didn’t want to get into it.

  “Well, I guess as long as they’re happy,” I mumbled.

  “Yes…” Stemp hesitated. “Is that all?”

  I held back a groan at the invocation of the secret code. Dammit, another clandestine session on my laptop tonight. All I wanted was peace, silence, and my bed.

  “Ye- Wait!” I interrupted myself as a sudden thought occurred. “Hang on. Are you still there?”

  “Yes, what is it?” His voice had returned to its usual clipped efficiency.

  “I just realized what’s been bothering my subconscious. You know how I said Orion seemed to know more than normal about the workings of the commune? Well, tonight when we were talking about the special Calling, he said ‘we hardly ever have fireworks’. But I’ve been here longer than he has, and this is the first time we’ve had them. So how would he know?”

  “An excellent question,” Stemp said slowly. “Maybe he lived at the commune before.”

  “No, when I asked him, he said he’d found it online and joined because the Earth Spirit called him.”

  “The commune doesn’t have a website. Newcomers hear about it strictly by word of mouth.” Silence hovered between us for a moment. “It’s possible he stumbled on someone’s blog or made some other personal connection online,” Stemp added, but he didn’t sound convinced. His voice firmed into his usual crisp authority. “It seems your instincts are as good as ever. Continue to investigate, and keep me posted.”

  “I will.” I hung up and turned to trudge back to the commune.

  The return trip seemed longer. I strode along the ribbon of pale moonlight in the centre of the road, casting wary glances into the blackness of the undergrowth on both sides. A fitful breeze rustled the trees like a big cat moving stealthily through the undergrowth.

  Several times I spun, certain I’d heard the padding of lethal velvet paws on the gravel behind me, but nothing was there. At last the rough poles of the commune’s gate traced straight moonlit lines against the dark forest, and I drew a deep breath and crept reluctantly into the blackness beside the road.

  Moving a few steps at a time by the light of my tiny flashlight, then halting to peer into the darkness and strain my ears, I made slow progress. When I neared the encampment, I detoured warily around the scattering of tents, reassured by the snores emanating from several of them.

  Near the path that led to my tent, I chanced a quick flash of light on my wristwatch. Past midnight. Surely Orion would be asleep by now. I could probably walk up the path. Even if he poked his head out and caught me, I could just say I’d been down to the latrine.

  But if he was wide-awake enough to hear me coming up the path, he’d wonder why he hadn’t heard me going down.

  Shit.

  I exhaled a quiet breath and stepped cautiously through the undergrowth, describing a wide arc around Orion’s tent and easing my feet down to avoid snapping twigs.

  When a sudden crack disturbed the soft night sounds, my breath stopped, my heart lurching into my throat.

  That twig hadn’t snapped under my foot.

  Peering into the moon-dappled darkness, my pulse began to hammer at the sight of a black shape moving around my tent. I eased my hand onto my gun butt, praying my jacket wouldn’t rustle. My need to breathe returned with a vengeance and I panted open-mouthed, trying to stay silent.

  The black figure moved closer and the jackhammer in my chest accelerated again when I realized it wasn’t a cougar. This was a two-legged predator circling my tent.

  The intruder paused to bow his head as if listening, and a shaft of moonlight slid across his cheek.

  Orion.

  What the hell was he doing sneaking around my tent?

  Oh shit, had he searched it?

  I did a rapid mental inventory of the incriminating objects inside. Could he have gotten into my lockbox? I had my holsters and spare magazine with me, but the boxes of ammo would be damn hard to explain. And I’d stowed Stemp’s new box of phones in my duffel bag, too. Orion wouldn’t know who I was calling or why, but a dozen burner phones were bound to raise some questions.

  My mind hurtled through the possible ramifications while I strained my eyes against the darkness. A breeze rustled the trees, and the shifting moonlight glinted off something in his hand.

  Shit, was th
at a weapon? My grip tightened on my Glock.

  He stood motionless a few more moments before moving at last, creeping past my tent and avoiding the gravel path. Moments later he disappeared into his own tent, and the sudden glow of his flashlight illuminated the canvas from inside.

  I drew a long slow breath, then another, standing completely still while my mind raced. If he had actually gone into my tent, he knew I wasn’t there. Would he be watching and listening for my return? I could brazen it out and use the latrine excuse, but how long had he been out there? I’d have to claim a hell of a case of constipation if he knew I’d been gone for over an hour.

  But if he had searched my tent, he wouldn’t be listening outside it, would he? So he probably hadn’t been inside.

  But why was he sneaking around this late at night? There was no benign explanation for that. Either he was a creepy pervert who liked to whack off outside my tent while I slept, or else he was up to something more sinister.

  I eased out a sigh. I would have actually preferred the ‘pervert’ explanation, but I was damn sure that metallic glint in his hand hadn’t been his dick. Unless he had some truly extraordinary plumbing.

  My dirty mind disgorged an inappropriate ‘man of steel’ joke but before I could let it distract me, the light in his tent went out. I tensed, frozen in the deep shadows of the undergrowth. A rustling sound from his tent ratcheted my heart rate up still higher. Was he coming out again?

  When he didn’t appear, I drew a slow breath. Maybe he was just going to bed. The chilly breeze ruffled my hair, sending me into adrenaline-laced shivers. Dammit, I was freezing. How long would I have to wait to be sure it was safe to move?

  A few minutes later a light snore from the vicinity of Orion’s tent freed me from my immobility. My paranoia reminded me that he might be faking it just to draw me out, but I ignored that. If he suddenly popped out in front of me, I’d deal with it. Anything was better than standing out here in the dark with the wind whistling up the crack of my ass and my feet falling asleep.

  Hell, at least they were getting a nap. It was going to be a long time before I got any sleep tonight.