Two Lies and a Spy (10 page)

“So, what’s the drill?” Kale stands with his hands on his hips, deliberately with his back to Rita.

“Luke,” I say, “do you have an old Kennedy Prep uniform that Kale can wear?”

“Yeah.” He scans Kale, sizing him up. “But the pants’ll be too long.”

“Lacey?” I call.

“What?” she calls back, from her room.

“Can you sew?”

“Are you
high
?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I can,” Rita says.

Kale’s eyebrows crawl into his razor-cut hair.

“I alter my mom’s clothes to fit me,” she says, by way of explanation.

“Could you hem a pair of Luke’s khakis to fit Kale?”

She’s silent for a moment. “Yes,” she says. “If he’s grateful.”

Kale shoots her a death stare.

Evan guffaws like some kind of backward British donkey.

“What—do you want me to kiss your feet, princess?” Kale says.

“Forget it!” I yell. “Luke, we just need some duct tape. These two can’t get near each other or they’ll—”

“Shag,” Evan says.

“Kill each other!” I finish. I push him, and he falls off Luke’s bed, laughing.

“Yeah. Duct tape,” says Luke, and dives out of the room, snorting with laughter.

Rita hurls herself over the bed and sits on Evan. “One more word out of you, and I will kill you, Brit Boy,” she warns him.

Kale inhales softly as he checks out Rita’s backside while she sits astride Evan, who is laughing like a loon.

“God, I love a violent woman!” he gasps.

“Apologize,” she orders him.

“I think not.”

“Give it a rest, brat,” Kale says. He walks over, leans forward, and loops an arm around Rita’s waist, lifting her
off Evan as effortlessly as if she were a Polly Pocket doll.

“Don’t abuse the help,” he says, setting her on her feet.

Rita turns fuchsia. Seriously, so pink that her skin matches the Chanel eyeglasses.

“What did I bloody tell you all?” Evan demands. “They’re
so
going to shag!”

Rita tries to fall on him and kill him, but Kale intercepts her once again. She hangs in the air from the “short dude’s” grip, arms and legs flailing in disbelief.

Then Kale sets her down without a word.

Rita is weirdly speechless herself. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her that way.

Both of them stay quiet as Luke, Lacey, and I work out a plan to infiltrate Langley tomorrow afternoon. Evan periodically breaks in to say that we are all “barking mad” and that we can’t be serious.

“Shut up, Evan!” I snap at him, after his third interruption. “You weren’t invited, but you’ve insisted on being here. Now, are you in or are you out?”

He gives me a level stare. He plays with the change in his pocket for a moment, stalling. “Bloody hell,” he says. “I’m going to regret this. . . .”

I raise my eyebrows at him and wait.

“I’m in,” he says with a sigh.

It’s at this moment that we hear a car door slam.

“Oh, shit!” Luke exclaims. “Yeah, you’re in now, buddy—because one of my parents is home.”

Lacey runs to the window. “It’s Mom,” she says.

We hear the
clip-clop clip-clop
of Mrs. Carson’s high
heels as she approaches the front door.

“Run, everybody!” Luke orders. “Down the stairs, then straight back to the kitchen. Sneak out through the yard. I’m going to distract her. As soon as she’s inside the house, sprint to my Jeep.” He digs the keys out of his pocket and tosses them to me. “I’ll meet you out there.”

We practically dive down the stairs and scurry like rats, one after the other, down the hallway as Luke opens the door a crack and blocks it with his body.

“Hey, Mom! How was your day?”

“Hello, sweetheart. Fine, thanks. And yours?”

“Great, great. I think I aced that chemistry exam.”

“Wonderful. Honey, you wouldn’t know anything about a three-hundred-and-fifty-dollar charge on my Bloomingdale’s account, would you?”

“No . . .”

“Then I’ll need to speak to your sister. Again.”

“Oh. Um, I don’t think she’s home.”

“Her car’s in the driveway—Lucas, please move aside so I can get in the door. Here, take this bag for me, will you?”

The kitchen door closes behind the last of us, Kale, as she says these words. We sprint across the backyard, crouching low and keeping along the bushes. Lacey opens the gate noiselessly and we hug the exterior wall closely as we stream through. She latches the gate behind us, and we all scramble, bent double, into the front yard and then finally make it to Luke’s Jeep.

“Don’t press the fob to unlock it,” hisses Lacey. “It’ll
make a noise.”

I nod and insert the key into the driver’s-side door the old-fashioned way. Then I press the button inside that will unlock all the doors at once.

We all clamber in and slide over, keeping our heads ducked. Kale goes into the back cargo area and lies flat. My heart is beating triple time, even though there’s no way Mrs. C. will recognize me dressed like this.

The four of us wait, breathing heavily, for Luke to come out.

And then things get worse.

Another car pulls into the driveway, and this one can only be Mr. Carson’s. We squash down onto the floor like sardines and just pray.

A car door opens, then closes. We hear the crackle of grocery bags. Feet, men’s feet, clop along the driveway, then up the front walkway and to the house. The heavy front door opens, then closes.

We wait some more.

Lacey’s cell phone begins to ring. She pulls it out to look at the caller ID. “My dad,” she whispers. She puts it on vibrate.

We continue to wait.

And finally, at long last, the front door opens and closes yet again, and lighter male footsteps approach the Jeep.

“Miss me?” asks Luke, as he opens the driver’s-side door and climbs in.

I exhale in relief.

I’ve left the keys in the ignition for him, and he starts
the Jeep and backs out of the driveway. “What did you charge on Mom’s Bloomie’s account, Lace?”

“Nothing,” she says from the backseat.

“Well, it was an expensive nothing, then,” says Luke, his voice resigned. “She’s pissed, and she’s looking for you.”

“Whatever,” Lacey says, sullenly.

I hope that by tomorrow evening Mr. Carson isn’t going to be even more pissed than his wife. And looking for
all
of us.

“I told Mom and Dad I have a study group tonight for physics,” Luke says, as he drives us away from his house and into the gathering darkness. “Lacey, I told them I didn’t know where you were, but you might be at an
aerobics class with your phone in a locker.”

“Good thinking,” his sister says. “I knew I kept you around for some reason.”

Luke turns his head slightly and asks, “Kari, where do you need to go?”

I exhale. “It’s a little complicated. I have to get back to the Comfort Inn where Charlie is, but we also have to move tonight. And I can’t go back in looking like a Goth girl, because a guy from the Agency spotted me this morning.”

There’s a long silence.

“I wish we’d had time to borrow some clothes of my mom’s,” Luke says.

“We can use some of
my
mom’s,” Rita volunteers. “If you’ll take me back to my car at Kennedy Prep, then I can drive home, get the stuff, and meet you somewhere.”

“Don’t you live in Georgetown?” Lacey asks. “Isn’t it easier if we just stop at a mall and buy her something?”

I open my mouth to say that I don’t have any money, and then realize that’s not true. I have the credit cards and cash from the Union Station locker. “Lacey’s right. Let’s just buy an outfit somewhere—we have a couple of hours until the stores close. But I’ll have to stay in the car. I can’t take the risk of being seen. Rita, I’ll give you a credit card.”

“I’m great at shopping,” says Lacey. “I’ll be happy to run in and pick something for you.”

Rita snorts, loudly.

“Do
not
give my sister your credit card,” Luke says.

“Hey!” Lacey smacks him. “What are you trying to
say?”

“You know exactly what.”

Rita sniffs. “Like she needs a credit card to shoplift?”

Lacey glares at her. “Look, bitch—”

“Enough!” Evan shouts. “
I
will go in and get Kari something.”

“You?” Rita eyes him. “What would you know about women’s clothing?”

“Quite a bit, actually. Especially how to take it off.”

Silence ensues, then Kale starts to laugh. “Where did you find this guy?”

“He found us,” I say sourly.

Luke pulls into the parking lot of a local shopping mall and right up to the front door of Macy’s. “Knock yourself out, Evan.”

“He doesn’t know what sizes to get!” Rita struggles with her seat belt.

“Really? I’d say Kari’s a women’s size four, with a thirty-two A bust. Am I right, love?” Evan calls the question from the backseat.

I’m utterly mortified that he’s guessed my tiny bra size and announced it in front of Luke. I could kill him, with my bare hands. “B,” I lie.

Evan gets out of the Jeep and stretches his long legs. He leans back in and runs his eyes over what he can see of my body. After too long a pause and a quick glance at Luke, he repeats, “Thirty-two B. Of course. What was I thinking?”

He closes the door and saunters toward the brightly lit doors of Macy’s before I can even offer him cash or a
credit card. I hope he falls down the escalators. Or gets brained by a toppling mannequin. Or rips his pants on a nail and gets arrested for public indecency . . .

•  •  •

Evan returns with a boxy little houndstooth suit in black and white, serviceable black bag and pumps, black pantyhose, black reading glasses, and a big hair clip. He also hands me a small Victoria’s Secret bag containing a lacy, electric-violet bra and panty set. The panties are a size small. The bra is a thirty-two A.

He winks and smiles knowingly as I check the size on it.

I grit my teeth and force myself to ask politely how much I owe him.

“On the house, love,” is all he says.

“I can’t let you—” I begin.

“When are you taking
me
shopping, lover-boy?” Lacey asks.

He chuckles and wags a finger at her.

Now all I need is a place to de-Goth and go corporate.

We pick a McDonald’s bathroom as the perfect changing spot. I dive down the access hallway, which is two steps inside the door, and start by scrubbing all the makeup off my face. Larita comes in with me and provides a bright pink lipstick and some blush.

Soon all the garish Goth is rinsed away and the new “execu-me” emerges. I look like an office manager or executive assistant, and nobody would ever guess that I’m toting electric-violet, lacy lingerie in my handbag.

I can walk into the Comfort Inn now, lead out my
little girl Charlotte by the hand, and nobody will look closely enough to tell me apart from the thousands of other office workers in DC.

That’s exactly what I do, while Luke and the others wait outside, even though Kale is probably getting sick of lying scrunched up in the cargo space. Then we drive to a Best Western closer to Luke’s house in Great Falls.

I swap out my ID and credit cards quickly for new ones from the Union Station backpack.

We all agree to meet at Luke’s the next day at around two p.m. That will give us time to change, get our gear ready, and get to Langley by late afternoon. Mr. Carson is usually tied up in meetings then, so there’s little risk of us running into him.

Charlie and I check in to the hotel without incident and—thank God—with no sign of Mitch and company.

The next day I don’t want to chance stealing a car from the Best Western parking lot. So I ask the hotel to call for a Yellow Cab to take us to Luke’s. Meanwhile, I put on the violet lingerie, the junior executive suit and heels, plop the glasses onto my nose, and totally screw up my attempt at makeup.

I can hear Sophie laughing at me as I cuss and wipe off the smeared eyeliner with a damp washcloth, only to start again. Why hasn’t Sophie called me back? It’s really starting to bother me.

I finally give up on the stupid eye makeup and just do my best with lipstick and blusher. The glasses will hide my eyes, right?

Charlie grouses about having to be Charlotte again, and I feel bad for him. I reason that we’re only going straight in a cab to Luke’s house, and then he’ll be changing anyway, so I let him dress in his normal clothes. “Just take off your glasses, kiddo, and put on your baseball cap.”

He nods, and we take the elevator downstairs from our room on the fourth floor. My prop glasses are filthy, and I take them off to clean them with a tissue from Rita’s purse.

The doors open on the ground floor with a
ding
and we get off. Too late I see a young cop standing in the lobby, chatting with a hotel employee. I freeze, glasses in hand. He looks over at us casually, and I jam the glasses onto my nose and drag Charlie quickly past him. We’re almost to the doors, and I can see the Yellow Cab turning into the circular drive when the policeman calls, “Excuse me, miss?”

I squeeze Charlie’s hand more tightly and hustle out the door.

“Miss! Hold up there!”

A quick glance over my shoulder reveals that he’s coming after us.

The cab pulls up.

“I need to ask you a couple of questions, please,” the cop says.

We haul ass to the cab, and I wrench open the door. “Get in!” I tell Charlie.

“Can’t, sorry, we’re late for an appointment,” I tell
the officer, and jump into the backseat with my brother.

“Hey!” yells the cop.

“
Go
,” I say urgently to the taxi driver, a hunched old guy in a tweed cap. I give him an address three blocks from Luke’s house, and without hesitation, he puts the pedal to the metal.

Only as we turn into traffic do I realize that the cabby isn’t old at all.

He’s Mitch.

He presses the power lock button, and the adrenaline that rushed through my body at the sight of the cop freezes cold.

“Hiya, kids,” Mitch says with a nasty grin. “How’ve you been?”

This is not happening.