Never Say Spy (29 page)

“Making it easy to infiltrate a network, or to send captives into the network without their knowledge,” Kane concluded.  “All right, we have a lot of loose ends to tie up.  What was the relationship between Sandler and Ramos?  Was Fuzzy Bunny really their purchaser for the hacked fob?  If so, can we nail them with anything?  Who was the supplier of the crystal?  Who else knew about Aydan’s ability to access the network, and is she in any further danger now that Sandler’s associates, whoever they are, think she’s dead?”

“And can I go home and get a change of clothes?” I added.  “I realize it’s insignificant in the big picture, but it’d really make me feel better.”

Kane nodded.  “I’ll take you.”

“I’ll keep digging into the crystal and its suppliers,” Spider volunteered.

“I’ll start looking into Sandler,” Germain said.  “Can I pull in those analysts you requisitioned earlier?”

“Yours,” Kane agreed.

Wheeler stood.  “I’m going to go and continue questioning the detainees.  Now that we know about Sandler’s involvement and the purpose of the warehouse network, I can ask better questions.”  He turned and left, followed by Spider.  Germain sat down at one of the terminals that lined the walls and started clicking keys.

Kane turned to me.  “Ready to go?”

“So ready.”

“Stay in the vehicle,” Kane cautioned when we got to the farm.  “We’re going to follow the standard clearing procedure.”

“Do you think it’s still necessary?”

“Better safe than sorry.  I won’t get complacent until we have all the research done and the loose ends are tied up.  If we’ve missed a single detail, it could change everything.  Slide over and get ready to drive, just in case.”

He closed the door and I slid over as instructed, watching him circle the house.  I didn’t know how he could stay so calm, putting himself in danger over and over.  I was vibrating with nerves.  Then again, he got to carry a gun.  Maybe that helped.

He waved me the all-clear, and I got out of the SUV to join him on the front step.  He opened the door and repeated his systematic search of the house.  When he nodded, I headed for my bedroom, hands shaking.

“Do I have time to take a shower?” I asked over my shoulder.  “Or should I just grab my stuff and go back to your office?”

“I’d prefer not to stay here too long.”

I sighed.  “Okay.”

I upended my backpack over the laundry basket before repacking it with several changes of clothes, afraid to assume I might be back anytime soon.

I stripped off my clothes and dumped them into the laundry, too, regarding my panties with a shudder.  I wasn’t ever going to be able to look at them again without seeing Sandler’s dick poking out of them.  I picked them up with my fingertips and dropped them into a small paper bag.  Then I dressed in fresh clothes and brushed my hair before going out to meet Kane in the living room.

“Looks like you have messages.”  He pointed to the blinking light on my machine.

When I pressed the button, Cheryl’s worried voice filled the room.  “Aydan, it’s Cheryl.  Where are you?  I’ve been calling and calling your cell.  I went to show the house today, and it looked like there had been a break-in.  The door to your bedroom was kicked in.  Are you okay?  Call me.”

“Shit.”  I checked the date.  Sunday afternoon.  “Shit!”

Next message.  “Aydan, it’s Cheryl again.  It’s Tuesday evening.  I was over at the house again, and your car’s in the drive, but I couldn’t find you.  I’m worried about you.  If I don’t hear from you by tomorrow, I’m going to file a missing persons report with the police.  Call me.  I’ll leave this message on your cell, too.”

I shot a frown at Kane.  “
Shit
!”

I pressed the button again.  Cheryl sounded tearful.  “Aydan, where are you?  It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m so afraid something bad has happened to you.  The police are looking for you.  Hang on, wherever you are.  Call me if you get this.”

I flopped into a chair, making fists in my hair.  “Son of a
bitch
!  What the fuck am I supposed to do now?  Phone her up and say, oh gee, sorry, it was all a misunderstanding, silly me?”

Kane was already dialling his phone.  “The first thing we’re going to do is cancel the missing persons alert.  After that, we’ll do damage control.”  He made several calls while I perched anxiously on the edge of the chair, racking my brain about how to deal with this latest problem.

Kane hung up.  “That wasn’t as bad as it could have been.  When Eddy phoned in the 911 call about you on Wednesday night, they ramped up the search, but then the whole thing got called off when we reported we’d recovered you.  We fed the police the stalker-ex-husband story, and they’ve passed it along to Cheryl already.  She’ll be upset, but not frantic that you haven’t called her yet.”

I slumped back in the chair.  “Thank God.  Poor Cheryl.  I guess I’ll just have to tell her I lost my cell phone.  That’ll explain why I didn’t return her earlier calls.  I’d better call her right now, though.”

He nodded.  “Remember, keep it simple.  The more elaborate your explanation, the more complicated things get down the road.”

I grimaced and dialled Cheryl’s number.  She picked up on the first ring, and I spent the next several minutes reassuring her and explaining as little as possible.  When I finally hung up, I thudded the handset against my forehead.  “I swear, in my next life, I’m going to be a hermit.”

Kane looked bemused.  “Isn’t it a good thing that you have people in your life who care about you?”

“Yes…  I guess.  But I wish…  I just hate upsetting people.  I wish people didn’t care so much about me that they tie themselves in knots like that.  I feel so bad.”

“So you’d rather die a horrible death than upset people.”

“No!”  I yanked a handful of my hair.  He clearly wasn’t getting it.  Hell, I wasn’t sure I got it myself.  “Never mind.  Forget it.  I’ve just had too much emotional bloodbath lately.”

I turned away from his scrutiny and made for the kitchen to grab matches and a bottle of fondue fuel before heading out the back door to the firepit.  Kane stuck close beside me, scanning the landscape.

I’d forgotten he’d have to shadow me.  Shit.  Well, too late now.

I dropped the small paper bag into the pit and sloshed some fuel over it.  “Stand back.”  I tossed in a match, and the bag caught with a whoosh.

The paper burned away first, and we stood in silence watching the flames consume the turquoise lace.  I could feel Kane’s eyes on me, and I stared into the firepit.

“You didn’t tell us the whole story, did you?” he asked quietly.

“I hit the high points.”

“The high points.  When I cut you loose after you’d been tortured, you said ‘Help me up’, like you’d tripped or something.  When you came out of the network, you were hysterical.  It must have been bad.”

I shrugged, watching the flames.  “I just freaked out because I was disoriented.”

“Aydan.  I understand you don’t want to talk about this, and I won’t ask you again.  I just want you to remember you don’t have to deal with it alone.  Don’t try to do it yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.  Dr. Roth gave me the name of a psychologist.”

He sighed.  “I’ve experienced post-traumatic stress first-hand.  Don’t wait.  It only gets worse.”

I looked up finally and met his eyes.  “I have a bit of experience in that area myself,” I told him gently.  “I dealt with it the first time with the help of an excellent psychologist.  If my coping skills aren’t up to it this time, I definitely won’t wait.  I don’t want to go through that again.”

He studied my face.  “Was that after your divorce?”

“No.  I… had some problems.  After the accident.  I told you I was pinned…”

He nodded, his face clearing with comprehension.  “Trapped.  And you’re claustrophobic.”

“That was part of it.  But… well, we were out in the middle of nowhere.  It took a long time for the emergency crews to arrive.  I was pinned right in front of the biker.  Watching him suffer and not being able to do anything.  And those horrible screams.  And the smells…  His intestines… well, you saw.  Anyway.”

I took a deep breath.  “It was more than an hour before they finally took him away.  They had to cut the post and take it along with him.  When they started with the chainsaw, the screaming was just…”

He took my hand and held it, and we stood in silence for a few seconds.  I shook myself.  “Anyway, the psychologist got me over the flashbacks and panic attacks.  He was amazing.  And I still have the skills he taught me.”

“I thought you seemed pretty blasé about the screaming nightmares.”

I gave him a half-smile.  “I don’t do that very often any more.  I’ve probably got a few more in me after the last twenty-four hours, but it shouldn’t last too long.  I usually have a couple of bad nights and then I get over it.”

His gaze sharpened.  “Usually?”

“I mean, if something scary or stressful is going on in my life.  You know.  Shit happens to everybody.”

“Mmm.”  He fell silent, staring at the smoking ruin in the firepit.  After a moment he turned to me.  “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

We turned back toward the house, and I reached to touch his arm.  “Thanks.”  I met his eyes, trying to make him see I really meant it, that I wasn’t just blowing him off.

He smiled.  “You’re welcome.”

When we pulled up in front of Kane’s converted office, I slumped in the seat, toying with my seat belt.  “Back to the cave, eh?”

He shot me a sympathetic look and a nod.

I sighed heavily before straightening in my seat, running a hand over my abs.  The pain was beginning to ease.  Or maybe the rest of my body just ached so much it was fading in comparison.

I got out of the SUV and dragged my feet up the walk, already beginning my internal monologue.

Fine.  I’d be fine.  So I’d be below ground, so what?  No big deal.  Lots of ways out.  Not trapped.

Fine.  I was fine…

The stairwell seemed to shrink around me when the door clicked closed above and I muffled a panicky squeak, my hand clenching on the handrail.

Get a grip, dammit!  Just breathe.  Ocean waves.  Think ocean waves…

I successfully held back my shudder at the sight of the big table in the work area and shuffled in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Kane and Germain leaning over one of the computers.

I stood in the shower for a long time, hoping the hot water would ease the aching tension in my shoulders.  Determinedly rerouting my mind, I concentrated on recalling the open fields around my farm.  How would they look once winter lost its grip?

I leaned my forehead against the wall, eyes closed while I visualized sweet, sun-warmed hay under a wide blue sky.  The heat of the water warmed my back like summer sunshine, and my tremors gradually diminished while I drew deep breaths of imagined fresh air.

My serenity was short-lived.  Back in the long corridor, the knowledge of the heavy earth above me tightened like a noose around my throat.  I shook my head vigorously and headed for the work area, clinging to my vision of summer.

Claustrophobia was all in my head.  I was doing this to myself.  I wasn’t trapped, for shit’s sake.  Stupid.  Just get over it.

When I rounded the corner, the sight of two smug faces made hope soar in my heart.  “What?”

Kane grinned, the tiredness around his eyes crinkling into those sexy laugh lines.  “Sandler was the key.  This thing is blowing wide open.  We don’t have the whole picture yet, but we will, and soon.  Thanks to you.”

I beamed at him.  “Can I request a reward?”

Wariness crept into his eyes, the cop face closing down his expression.  “Maybe.  What did you have in mind?”

“A chance to get out of the bunker for beer and blues at Eddy’s?”

His face relaxed again and he leaned back in his chair, smiling.  “That could be arranged.  I think we’re all ready for that kind of reward.”

I hid my surge of relief in a joke.  “Good, ‘cause I’m starving.”

Germain laughed.  “The woman is a bottomless pit.  Why don’t you weigh three hundred pounds?”

“It’s this new workout plan I’m on,” I explained.  “It’s called the Spy Workout.  Maybe you’ve heard of it.  It involves a lot of punching good guys and running.”

His eyes twinkled.  “I’ve heard of that one.  Tried it myself a few times, but I never got good at punching the good guys.”

I laughed.  “I’m glad to hear that.  I’m planning to switch workouts pretty soon, too.  The Spy Workout gets old fast.”

“Smart choice.”

Kane glanced at his watch.  “Okay, we’ll wrap up a couple of things here, and then we can go.”  He and Germain turned back to their terminals, and I retreated down the hall to pace in the bunkroom, not wanting to hover anxiously.

I was beginning to wear a path in the floor by the time Kane called me, and I feigned calm when I joined him in the work area.

Germain looked up from his computer.  “I’m just tracking down a hot lead here.  You two go ahead.  If I get this tied up in the next little while, I’ll join you, but I might just stay here and eat the leftover pizza from this afternoon.”

Emerging from the basement felt like being reborn, and I sucked in a surreptitious breath of relief.

When we arrived at Blue Eddy’s, most of the tables were occupied and the stage was set up.  Three waitresses circulated, and Eddy was busy behind the bar.  When he saw us, his face lit up and he put down the glass he was filling to hurry across the room.

He took my hands in both of his.  “Aydan, thank goodness you’re all right.  I was worried about you.”

I smiled at him and squeezed his hands.  “No need to thank goodness, thank
you
.  I would have been in serious trouble without you.”

“What happened?” he asked, examining my bruised wrists.  “They wouldn’t tell me anything when I called the hospital, but there was blood down the hallway from where you got dragged out.  Did they catch the women who attacked you?”

“In a manner of speaking.  Those weren’t women.  They were my crazy ex-husband and one of his low-life buddies in drag.  I moved here to get away from him, but he found me anyway.  I’m really glad you called the police.  He won’t bother me again.”

“But where have you been?” he persisted.  “I called the hospital and they said you’d been discharged, but I called your home number and got no answer last night.  I was afraid something might have happened after you left the hospital.”

“Oh,” I said in confusion.  We’d figured out a cover story, but I hadn’t expected he’d try to call me.  “I was… I didn’t go home.  I, um…”

I felt Kane’s hand at the small of my back.  “She stayed with a friend,” he said blandly, looking Eddy square in the eye.

Eddy’s sharp gaze took in the two of us standing close together, Kane’s proprietary hand on my back.  “Oh.”  He nodded.  “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Eddy, and I’m sorry you were worried.  I’ll give you my cell number the next time I’m in.”

“That would be good.”  He winked at Kane.  “You take good care of her, John.  I can’t afford to lose my bookkeeper.”

He went back to the bar, and I churned my fingers in my hair.  “Gah.  Looks like Spider’s scenario wins after all.  Sorry, I froze.  Now what do we do?”

“Let it go,” Kane advised.  “Eddy made an assumption.  If we play it cool, that’s all it will be.  It will just go away eventually.”

“Good enough,” I agreed.  We both scanned the room, and I could tell that, like me, Kane was scoping out the best strategic position in the crowded bar.

A familiar burly figure wove its way through the crush.  “Hey darlin’.  Cap,” Hellhound greeted us.  He turned to me.  “Thought ya were gonna give him the slip so we could play some wild music together.”

I grinned, giddy with my reprieve from captivity.  “How do you feel about threesomes?”

Kane’s eyebrows rose as his mouth quirked in amusement.  Hellhound leered.  “Darlin’, if you’re talkin’ two chicks an’ me, I’m happy to oblige, but this big galoot would throw me off my game somethin’ fierce.”

I shrugged.  “Darn.  Guess you’ll just have to play with yourself, then.”

He pulled a mournful face.  “Story a’ my life.”  The sound of guitars floated over the hum of conversation in the bar.  “Gotta go, we’re gonna start the set,” Hellhound said.  “I grabbed the table over there.  My jacket’s on the chair.”  He jerked a thumb toward what I was beginning to think of as ‘our usual table’ before turning to make his way back to the stage.

Kane and I exchanged a smile as we slid into chairs with our backs to the wall.  The waitress arrived quickly and we ordered drinks, lime and soda for Kane and Corona for me.  When the icy bottle arrived, I squeezed in the lime and lowered the level down to the bottle’s shoulders in a long, blissful swallow.  I sighed and lolled back in the chair, stretching out my legs and cradling my bottle lovingly.

“I’m getting spoiled by being chauffeured around all the time,” I told Kane.  “I’ve had more beer this week than in the last six months.”

He laughed.  “I’m feeling sorry for myself watching you enjoy it.  I could go for some cold suds right now.  It’s been a long week.”

I nodded.  “I hear you.”

The first set started and we sat in companionable silence, enjoying the excellent music.  I smiled and moved with the beat, soaking in the freedom and normalcy.  When the menus arrived, I ordered a burger and onion rings.  Might as well go for the gut bomb.  My normally healthy diet was nothing but a distant memory anyway.

The musicians took a break and Hellhound ambled over to the table, regarding the remaining chairs with disgust.

I smiled up at him and scooted my chair over closer to Kane.  “Pull one around beside me.  There’s room.”

“Thanks, darlin’.”  He dragged one of the chairs over and straddled it backward, facing the stage.  He rested his arms across the back, dangling a half-empty beer bottle between his fingers.

“You guys are amazing,” I complimented him.  “Do you play up here often?”

“Every now an’ then.  Whenever I’m up here on a Thursday night.  I been comin’ off and on for a while, so I know some a’ the guys.”

We were interrupted by the arrival of the food, and I dug into the burger with enthusiasm.  After a few minutes of intense concentration, I sat back with a sigh and drank some more beer.  As I did, I realized both men were regarding me with amusement.

“What?” I asked.

“You eat every meal as if it was your last,” Kane observed.

I gave him a half-smile and a shrug.  “Some day it will be.  Nobody will ever say I didn’t enjoy my last meal.”

He sobered.  “True.  You’ve come close enough to your last meal a few times this week.”

I grinned.  “Yeah, well, tonight I’m eating a fabulous burger, drinking ice-cold beer, and listening to the best music I’ve heard in a long time.  I win.”

Both men laughed.  Kane raised his glass.  “To winning.”

Hellhound and I clinked our bottles against it.  “To winning,” we agreed.

The musicians were gathering onstage again, and Hellhound got up to join them.  They put their heads together for a few seconds before taking their places.  Hellhound pulled the microphone close.  “I wanna do a song for a special lady tonight,” he rasped, the mike deepening and enriching his voice.

They launched into a classic blues lead-in, and Hellhound leaned into the mike and began to sing.  “I want this long-legged redhead woman, oh, but she won’t treat me right.  Oh, I want a long-legged red-head woman, y’know, but she won’t treat me right.”

He sang a couple more verses and then slid into a refrain, his voice growling into a rough-edged low note like the brush of whiskers against sensitive skin.  The small hairs stood up on the back of my neck.

“Please, oh baby please, lay some sugar on a dyin’ man.  Hot sugar for your sighin’ man.”

I tried to control a shiver of pure desire as that low note hit my ears and headed straight south.  After my experience in the sim, I thought sex would be the last thing on my mind but instead, every inch of my skin begged for healing touch.  Like eating a candy to take a bad taste out of my mouth.

Hot sugar.

Kane turned a concerned face toward me.  “Are you all right?”

I lowered my beer by an inch or two.  “I’m fine,” I croaked.  I shook my finger at Hellhound, who grinned unrepentantly.  The set continued, and I squirmed in my chair, my body on fire.

Kane leaned over.  “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No.  It’s okay.”  I drained my bottle and nodded to the waitress’s questioning look.  When the fresh bottle arrived, I deliberately stretched out in my chair again, schooling my body into repose and concentrating on the blues.  By the time Hellhound returned at the end of the set, I was down a half-bottle and moving to the music again.

When he took his seat, I reached over and shoved gently at his shoulder.  “You old lecher.  No wonder Kane won’t let me go out alone.”  Both men laughed.  “I didn’t know you composed your own music,” I added.

He bounced his eyebrows.  “Only when I’m inspired.  An’ who’re ya callin’ old?  I’m only forty-eight.  ‘Experienced’ is the word I prefer.”

I grinned.  “I bow to your superior experience.”

“Ow.  Come on, darlin’, there can’t be more’n ten years between us.”

I raised my eyebrows at him.  “Oooh, flattery will get you everywhere.  Try two.”

He stared at me.  “Now that, I don’t believe.”

I poked at his empty beer bottle.  “Never underestimate the transformative power of beer goggles and bar lighting.”

He shook his head.  “Darlin’, I’ve seen ya in the light of day.”

I gave him a smile and dropped my eyes, pleased but a little embarrassed by his openly appreciative gaze.  “Don’t you have music to play?”

“I do indeed.  An’ I’m feelin’ inspired all over again.”  He got up and headed back to the stage.

By the time I’d finished my second beer, I could tell Kane was getting restless.  I knew he’d want to be in the thick of the investigation, and although I was enjoying the music, I had a feeling more beer would be a bad idea.  I shot him a glance.  “Ready to go?”

He nodded.  “I’d really like to get back to work.”

I nodded understanding, and he signalled the waitress.  We split the bill and headed for the door, giving Eddy and Hellhound a wave as we left.  They smiled from the bar and stage respectively, and we emerged from the heat and music into the crisp air of the parking lot.