Girl Undercover 8 & 9: Traitor & The Smiley Killer (8 page)

“Then what happened?” Nadja looked part horrified, part spellbound by what Ian was telling her.

Ian smiled sadly. “It’s a long, long story. Suffice to say that I’m no longer a special agent, and I’ve also been blacklisted by the very government I used to work for. No one in the U.S.—or anywhere else in the world for that matter—will take anything I have to say seriously because I’m believed to be an ex-con with severe drug problems.”

“How can they get away with saying that about you if it’s not true?” Nadja asked, not looking convinced. I knew just how she must be feeling, having been in her shoes only months ago.

I patted her hand. “It’s not as difficult as it seems to discredit someone to the world.” I wasn’t about to launch into the planted fake articles and corrupt prison officials, however; there was no time for that. Instead I just added, “I, too, thought Ian was full of it when he first told me about what Adler was up to. But the more I learned about what was going on, the more I realized he’d been telling me the truth all along. Emma, the trainer who committed suicide recently, remember her?”

Nadja nodded mutely.

“She confirmed all that Ian had been trying to tell me for months in a letter that she mailed me. And I heard with my own ears the senator and the governor discuss with a bunch of other politicians over dinner how they’re planning to overthrow the governments in several countries this coming New Year’s Eve. It’s bad. Really bad.”

Stiffening in her seat, Nadja blinked a couple of times as she appeared to digest my words. “So what are you going to do about it?” she asked finally.

Not wanting to upset her unnecessarily, I patted her hand again. “We have a plan that’s foolproof. Besides, we have six months till New Year’s Eve. Don’t worry about the conspiracy. For now, all we need to worry about is your safety.”

Nadja put her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands for a moment, then lowered them to her chin. She gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry… This is all just so overwhelming. If I’m not going into a Witness Protection Program, then what am I going to do? I can’t go on living my life as usual, can I?”

“No, you cannot,” Ian said. “But you can still go into a Witness Protection Program.”

Nadja looked at him, confused. “I can?”

A mischievous glint appeared in Ian’s eyes then, one that I had become very familiar with. “Yes,” he confirmed. “The Ian Armory Witness Protection Program. I can assure you that it’ll be a lot safer than the one the FBI would provide you with were you to go there.”

“Okay,” Nadja said. “And what exactly does it mean to be in your protection program?”

I glanced at Ian, eager to find out what he’d meant, too, and how he could sound so confident about its success. Because I didn’t think keeping Nadja safe from these maniacs would be an easy task. We already had our hands full with trying to stop them from putting their masterplan into play.

“I have a house in the outskirts of Philly where you can stay,” Ian explained. “No one knows it belongs to me. Well, it doesn’t really belong to me. It belongs to the son of a friend of my dead father. The son happens to be on tour in the Middle East most of them time, so before my father’s friend passed, he gave me the keys to the house and told me I was welcome to use it whenever I wanted to. His son wouldn’t ever go there. We should go there tonight. You’ll have everything you need there. No one will find you there.”

“Okay,” Nadja said. “What about work? Am I not supposed to go back there ever?”

“No, you cannot go back to work or anywhere else where people know you until we’ve straightened this out,” Ian said. “Not unless you want to die, which I assume you don’t. These people may not be aware of all that you know, but I can assure you, they won’t take any chances. They’ve killed people for just trying to damage The Adler Group’s solid reputation.”

I immediately thought of my client Eve, the skinny blonde who’d wanted to sue Adler.

“No, I don’t want to die,” Nadja muttered right as our waiter returned and asked if he could bring us anything else. Ian told him that the check would do.

“What about Burt?” Nadja said as Ian pulled out his credit card to pay.

“What about Burt?” Ian asked.

“What’s going to happen to him now that I’m not in that room when they return with him?” she asked. “What if they think the reason I’m gone is because he came back to rescue me? Or sent someone to rescue me if he couldn’t go in person. Oh, God, that’s what they’ll think…” Gazing off into the distance for a moment, Nadja grasped her napkin so firmly her knuckles went white. Then her eyes found us again, big and round with fear. “Who else would have come to rescue me but him? No one but him knew I was there. Not someone who cared about me at least. So they’ll kill him then, won’t they?”

Ian and I looked at each other. Unfortunately, Nadja was making a very good point; surely they’d suspect he was somehow involved in her disappearance.

Ian broke the tense silence first. “They might, yes, as he’ll be a traitor in their eyes. Though I’m thinking that someone smart enough to plant his own phone without his companions noticing would also figure out how to get to you before it’s time for all of them to return to you.”

Nadja relaxed a little, letting go of the napkin. “Yes, you’re right. He probably would.” She smiled at us, sweetly and openly. “Burt’s a very, very smart and capable man, you know. So incredibly nice and caring. One of a kind, really.” That dreamy smile on her face withered then, and instead she scowled slightly. “Maybe that’s because he’s not really human.”

“He’s still very much a human even though he’s had his genes manipulated,” I said, hoping to make her feel better. I wasn’t really sure I agreed with that myself, but it sounded good. Plus, what Ian had mentioned earlier about human evolution made a lot of sense. We, humans, were all a work in progress.

“I hope you’re right,” Nadja said darkly.

Ian got to his feet. “Shall we?”

A few minutes later we were in a cab that would take us to a twenty-four-hour parking garage where Ian kept a car he owned. From there, he and Nadja would get into the car and drive straight to the house in Philly. I needed to stay in New York, go to bed and prepare for my clients tomorrow.

Nadja wanted to swing by her house on the way to the parking garage to pick up some of her stuff, but Ian instantly shut down her request. Not only was it possible that people from Adler were waiting for her there, having discovered that she’d escaped, but the sooner we could get her into hiding, the better. Ian promised to buy her everything she needed in Philly. When Nadja kept telling him how expensive that would be what with all the insulin she needed that would have to be bought without using her insurance since that would leave a trace, Ian told her not to worry about money. Money was not a problem. Clothes, food, everything she needed would be provided for her. Besides, someone could always go get more insulin from her house in a few days when the Adler people had left, as well as other things she’d want.

I, if anyone, knew that, in Ian’s case, all that talk about not worrying about money was true, so I assured Nadja that she would be fine.

“Well, but you won’t be able to buy me any clothes
tonight,”
Nadja insisted. “I would really love it if I could get out of these sweaty, disgusting, blood-stained clothes and put on some fresh ones. Clothes that
don’t
belong to an old man I don’t know. If his clothes are still in the house, they must be full of moths,” she added pointedly before Ian could challenge her.

“I totally understand that feeling,” I said, feeling gross and sweaty myself due to the humidity so prevalent in NYC during the summer. And I had only been wearing the clothes on my body since I left the club earlier that same evening. Nadja, on the other hand, must have been wearing her clothes for a day and a half and had slept in them too. It was a miracle that she hadn’t soiled herself given all that she’d been through, especially having had that gun pointed at her face. The parking garage was only a few blocks from my house and I had lots of clean clothes. I could always run upstairs and get her clean stuff to wear until she found a clothing store in Philly. We were roughly the same size, so it should fit her well.

“How about we swing by my house and I get her some clean stuff to wear?” I suggested to Ian. “It’s close to the garage.”

“Really?” she said before Ian could say anything. “That would be so
great.
Please, let’s go to her house first,” Nadja begged, looking at Ian.

“Fine,” Ian said and told the cab driver to make another stop before we reached the parking house.

“Do you prefer sweatpants or tights or jeans?” I asked Nadja.

“A pair of tights and a sweater would be great. Maybe a T-shirt if you have it.”

“I’ll get you all of that and more,” I replied.

Within short we reached my street and I left the cab, took the elevator up to my apartment and entered. I found an old duffel bag that I filled up with stuff that I thought Nadja could use in the next two or three days, the time I expected it would take her until she got settled in the house and had time to go shopping. Looping the duffel bag around my shoulder, I ran down the stairs to the bottom floor of my building, not having the patience to wait for the elevator to come.

The cab was still idling outside when I reappeared on the street. I opened the car door and handed a grateful Nadja the duffel bag. I gave her a quick hug and told her to take care of herself until the next time we got a chance to see each other. Before they took off, I told Ian to give me a call when he was back in the city even if it was late to make sure everything had gone all right; I’d be at home sleeping until then.

Watching the cab take off, I walked back to my apartment building. As I was about to stick the key into the front door, I remembered that I didn’t have any bottled water left in my house. I wasn’t a big fan of tap water, so I turned around and headed for the chain drug store located two blocks away from my building.

It was past midnight when I entered my apartment building again, a huge bottle of water in my hand, and pushed the button to the elevator that would take me up to my floor. Only as I was riding upstairs did I realize how bone tired I was. Surely there would be no need for me to take any sleeping pills tonight; the second I placed my head on my pillow, I’d pass out.

Sticking the key into my front door, I noticed that it wasn’t locked. I’d forgotten to lock it when I ran back to Ian and Nadja, I realized then, having wanted to return to them as quickly as possible. I opened the door and walked inside. Barely had I gotten over the threshold when I sensed that something wasn’t right. My apartment was as dark and quiet as I’d left it, but there was something different about the stillness of it. Early on in my career in law enforcement I learned that not all silence is the same, and the one in my apartment right now did not feel the same as when I’d entered it a short while ago. This silence was oppressive, full of tension. The kind of tension I felt when someone had come up behind me and I couldn’t see them.

I was not alone in my apartment.

I found my Glock in my hip holster and pulled it out, holding it by my chin as I remained in the small hallway, listening, taking in the silence that told me people were near me.

Had Stenger finally decided that it was time for me to die? If I flipped on the light switch in the hallway, would I see people holding guns, waiting for me to enter the living room so they could execute me like Janine had wanted Burt to do with Nadja? Maybe I’d spot Janine herself, staring at me in that disdainful manner she’d used when she’d spoken to Ariel, then shaken her like a ragdoll up on the sundeck. Had she figured out that I had been to her house and this was her idea of getting even? When it came to Janine, nothing was out of bounds.

The seconds ticked by as I pondered who or what was awaiting me. The vibration in my pocket—likely Jonah sending me yet another text—snapped me out of my stupor. I needed to make a move of some sort. I couldn’t just remain standing there all night.

Tightening the grip around my gun, I leaned my back against the hallway wall and sank down to my feet, making myself as tiny as possible. Extending my free hand above my head, I flipped on the light switch.

I gasped out loud when I saw who sat in my living room couch, leaning back and his leg crossed over his knee.

Burt sat there, looking straight at me with those snake-like eyes.

Chapter 7

I shot up into a standing position and pointed my gun at him, my feet wide apart.

Burt sat up straight, arms above his head and his foot down on the floor.

“Please don’t shoot,” he said. “I’m not here to hurt you, Jamie. I swear.”

I believed him, so I lowered my gun. Though I didn’t put it back into my holster.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, walking closer to him. “How did you get in here?”

That last question was unnecessary; I should have known better than to have left my front door unlocked. It was easy to get through the downstairs door in my building; all a person needed to do was press all the tenants’ buzzers and someone was bound to open for them. It was done all the time.

“Your door was open,” Burt said, much like I had expected. “I saw you when you were talking to someone in a cab a short while ago. Nadja was in there, wasn’t she?”

“Yes,” I said and flipped on the light in my living room to see better. Then I took a seat on the sofa arm so that I faced Burt, who was looking all tense now. “How did you know she was in there? Could you see her?”

“No, I was too far away,” he replied. “I was only able to see that it looked like there were two people in that cab as it took off.” He scowled. “Too fast for me to have a chance to go after it. Who was the other person?”

“Ian, my client. Don’t worry, Nadja’s safe with him.”

Burt stared at me. “Your client? That British guy?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s he taking her?”

“To a safe place. In Philly. Again, don’t worry about Nadja. She’ll be safe now. No one will be able to get to her. I’ll tell you more about her in a moment. First, explain to me how you happened to run in to us on my street.”