Viper's Kiss (5 page)

Luke nodded. “I said you did it. I never said you were smart about it. Admittedly, with just one of these details, I’d be skeptical, but when all the evidence starts to add up, I can’t ignore it. Neither can the authorities. I have to follow the lead.” He shook his head. “Are you trying to use the ‘Oh, it’s not me, Judge, it’s my doppelganger’ defense?” He couldn’t believe it.

Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “Doppelganger? You want a doppelganger? I’ll show you a doppelganger.” She walked up to the keyboard. Luke’s hand shot out.

“You do realize that’s not the only copy, right? Just in case you’re trying to delete it?”

He almost laughed when she rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Check Google for Miss April Hotrod.”

Luke frowned.
What the hell is she trying to do, now?
He couldn’t figure out what her aim was. But he was interested to see how her mind worked. He opened up a web browser and searched for Miss April Hotrod.

He clicked on the first entry, then stood back as an image filled the screen. His jaw dropped.

“Well, will you look at that.” Maggie stared down at him from the screen, a come-hither look in her eyes, her mouth pouting sexily as she sprawled naked over a nineteen sixty-eight Ford Mustang. He swallowed. He loved nineteen sixty-eight Ford Mustangs.

“Nice wheels,” he observed. He looked at the angry woman standing beside him. “Should have known you were wearing a costume today. No way a young woman would really dress like that.” He eyed the collared shirt, the sensible skirt and flat shoes.

Her mouth dropped open and his eyes narrowed. She looked kinda, well, hurt, for some reason.

Her mouth closed with a snap, and she pointed to the screen. “That is not me. That woman’s name is Kandy Karamel.” She grimaced.

Luke looked at the screen again. The woman was beautiful. Sexy. He looked askance at Maggie. Then back at the screen. It had to be her. Same color hair, same full lips. He shrugged.

“Looks like the same woman to me.” He looked closely, then back at Maggie’s undone shirt. She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks reddening. Well, nearly the same. The woman standing beside him was certainly well endowed, but he estimated her assets had been airbrushed and enhanced in the image on the screen. And she had green eyes in the photo instead of the gray eyes shooting darts at him now.

“You’re a woman of many talents,” he admitted. Damn, she looked hot up there.

Maggie groaned. “It isn’t me.”

She gestured to the screen, and Luke caught sight of her bra again. She did have great breasts and didn’t need the alterations worked on the image on the screen. He sighed as he realized he was staring. Oh, he was going to hell.

“Search Kandy Karamel, if you like. It isn’t me in that photo, just like it’s not me on that film.” Her voice rose.

Luke shook his head. “Nice try. Interesting idea, though. Try to make yourself look as plain-Jane as possible after doing a shoot like this, create uncertainty about your identity. Brilliant. Any jury would find it difficult to believe you’re the same woman when you’re wearing that get-up.” He pointed to her clothes and lack of makeup.

Maggie’s arm dropped to her side, and her shoulders slumped. Luke thought she was about to cry. She took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes fell to her bosom again.
Yep, hell.
He forced himself to make eye contact.

“I need to call my mother,” she said, resigned.

“Yeah, like I’m going to fall for that one. Let me guess, you call your sidekick, one who still trusts you, and tell him to sell or destroy the prototype?”

Soulful eyes stared at him. “My mother is very ill. Please, let me…” Her voice trailed off as she looked over his shoulder.

Luke turned around to see what had caught her attention. One of the news channels had stock photos of the slain detectives on the screen. He grabbed a remote and turned up the volume.

“…in Seattle’s University District. Traffic was delayed for several hours while police investigated the crime scene.” A female reporter spoke earnestly into the eye of the camera. “Librarian and suspected spy, Margaret Elizabeth Kincaid, escaped custody with the help of three masked men. When informed of her daughter’s situation, Lillian Kincaid collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. Police are on the hunt for Margaret Kincaid.”

A photo of Maggie popped up on the screen. “If anyone has news of Kincaid’s whereabouts, please contact the police. Do not approach, she is considered armed and dangerous. In other news, two bodies were discovered at an abandoned warehouse…”

Luke pressed the mute button.
Dangerous
. He had to remind himself of that fact. Maggie was Viper. She’d killed a security guard, and organized the murder of the two detectives, and that was just in the last twenty-four hours.

“Mom!” Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth, and Luke saw tears welling in her eyes. She turned to Luke, her expression pleading. “I have to go see her. Please.”

Luke frowned. Her sadness and anxiety were almost palpable. It looked like Viper had a weak spot. Maybe he could use it.

“Hand over the suit, and I’ll make sure you get to see your mother before you go to jail.”

Maggie’s bottom lip trembled, and he was surprised by a temptation to bend over and kiss it. She closed her eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Luke stood for a moment. She couldn’t hide her worry over her mother’s health. How could she still keep the stolen prototype while her mother was sickening in the hospital? How could anyone want to sell out not only their loved ones, but their country as well? He’d seen war. He’d seen death. He planned to settle down and start a family, and he would readily risk his life again to fight for their lives and their freedom. How Maggie could turn her back on all that for money was like walking into a blizzard without a coat—it just didn’t make sense.

She looked drained, exhausted. And beaten. He sighed. Maybe she needed time to think it over. At the moment, she was a mess, and he wasn’t getting anything out of her. He had her laptop, and it wouldn’t be long before he recovered the stolen research data. But he still needed to find the prototype. This “Visi-suit”. After he’d successfully recovered the data and the prototype, he’d return her to police custody, but his mama always said you’d catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. He prayed Viper had a heart buried beneath all that silicone gel.

“Come on, you can clean up in here.” He walked down the hall toward a bedroom. She trudged behind him. He crossed to the built-in wardrobe and threw open the doors. Clothes of every size and style were within. Reese had set up a number of safe houses throughout the country and always kept them well-stocked. Luke was grateful for his boss’s foresight. He looked at Maggie and glanced back at the clothes, chewing his cheek as he selected appropriate items.

He shoved a pair of jeans, underpants and a T-shirt at her. “These should fit.” He gestured to her chest. “You’ll have to uh, make do for everything else.” He knew there was no way they could outfit her completely, not after seeing that picture and holding her close. She had certain assets they hadn’t catered for.

He opened the en suite door. “You can use these facilities. Make it quick.”

Maggie eyed him with uncertainty before entering the bathroom. He inhaled her scent as she passed him and his eyes closed, just briefly. Her very essence teased him like a siren’s call. His eyes snapped open. He stared at her. She’d killed a guard, and he still wasn’t sure how she’d escaped her cronies. She stood in the center of the tiled floor, glancing at the shower recess, toilet and sink. She looked battered, vulnerable, scared. He would not comfort her, damn it. Her eyes met his in the mirror, and his hand gripped the door knob. Those eyes, those haunting eyes, had the same effect on him as a sucker-punch to the gut.

“I’ll be in the living room,” he said hoarsely, and snapped the door closed. He looked at the handle. She had escaped her last captors. He engaged the lock and pocketed the key. She wouldn’t escape him.

Inside the bathroom he heard the water run in the shower and swallowed. He could imagine her in there, water sluicing off her naked body, soap suds glistening as she held the washcloth to those big, beautiful—

He sucked in a breath.
Great
.
I’m lusting after Viper, of all goddamned women.
He wasn’t about to become her next victim, though. He strode out of the bedroom and down the hall, trying to put as much distance between him and temptation as possible.

Entering the living room, he caught sight of Maggie’s laptop bag. He paused. She’d be a little while. Possibly long enough for him to hack into her laptop and get a clue as to where the hell she’d stashed the prototype.

He crossed over to the lounge, grabbed the bag and got to work.

Maggie resisted the urge to bury her head under the warm, pounding spray of the shower. No matter how she might try, she couldn’t hide from the hell her life had suddenly become. She’d been kidnapped, but the news reported it as though she’d organized the accident and the cop shootings. She shuddered, and shoved the savage image from her mind. She thought of her mother. Despite the accusations, the violence and the deaths, the one thing that caused her the most worry was hearing her mother was now in the hospital.
God, please let her be okay
. Tears tracked down her face to be lost in the spray of water.

For two years her mother had battled ovarian cancer. Unfortunately it was caught late. Now it had metastasized, and tumors were in her lungs and abdomen.

Maggie had nursed her mother for the last eight months, working from home whenever possible and using a reputable nursing agency when she had to go into the library.

She was now the sole earner in their painfully modest household. She had to work to finance not only their home and lifestyle, but all the drugs, treatment and care her mother required. She couldn’t go out and waste precious money on shopping for frivolous items, or dining out with friends. She struggled with the constant stress of keeping a roof over her mother’s head and paying her exorbitant medical bills. Was she the reason for her mother’s latest collapse? What if Mom actually believed the things that were being said about her? Maggie pulled the shower curtain back. She had to see her mom, explain that it was all some gross mistake. She had to ease her mother’s worry.

She glanced at the bathroom door, knowing that Luke had locked it. She grabbed a large white fluffy towel off the rack and covered herself. The last thing she needed was Luke Fletcher walking in and catching her at a disadvantage.

Her brows pulled together. This insecurity wasn’t a feeling she was used to, and she didn’t like it. Normally she was the take charge type, the one who set the rules and made sure everyone followed them. The one renowned for efficiently solving problems. With this man, and in this situation, she was totally out of her depth. She needed to regain some control of the events shaping her life.

She stepped out of the shower, her breath catching. All her cuts and scrapes stung The memory of Luke’s gentle touch as he ministered to her hurts flashed to mind. His touch caused an unfamiliar tightening in her belly, an attraction that warmed her from the inside out. Yet another new, uncomfortable sensation caused by the man. As she tightened a leaky tap, she spotted the window. She froze.
A window
. Her eyes widened as she stepped out of the shower, ignoring the running water behind her. She gauged the size of the window. It would be a tight squeeze, for sure.

But she could fit through there.

Luke arched an eyebrow at the Wonder Woman bookmark he’d found in the laptop bag. Her password login was easy to crack after that discovery. DPrince. Diana Prince, Wonder Woman’s everyday persona. He snorted. Some spy she was turning out to be. He frowned as he waited for a diagnostic report on Maggie’s laptop to be completed. He wanted to make sure there were no viruses that would corrupt the MSA network before working on it. He eyed the piled-up red wool in front of him.
Aren’t there supposed to be two needles?
He could see only one.
Man, she really tries to get into character.
He couldn’t avoid the flash of appreciation that coursed through him. Except for the missing needle, she’d nailed her disguise. The frumpy outfit, the hair, spectacles and now knitting. No wonder she’d succeeded in fooling everyone. She’d managed to pass herself off as quite the retiring dowd.

But he wasn’t fooled. He knew she possessed a fire and strength that was compelling, as well as a resourcefulness that would put a Boy Scout to shame. She’d managed to pass herself off as an unassuming librarian. She’d infiltrated a top secret military research project, and she’d escaped both the cops and her violent cohorts unarmed.

The monitor blinked at him. Standard diagnostics were complete, her laptop was clear. He frowned. She was a master spy, and her cover was a techno-nerd working on a defense project. He expected some security access issues to be highlighted. His eyes narrowed. He swiveled in his chair and connected the laptop to a freestanding computer that wasn’t hooked up to the network, quickly glancing over his shoulder as he did so. He could hear running water.
Good, she’s still in the shower
.

He had a spy program of his own, one that would turn the D.O.D. green with envy. He ran both systems at once, quickly scanning the program files and boot up procedure as they loaded.
Bingo
. His program had detected something. It wasn’t a normal virus, though.
No, it’s definitely something else
. He typed busily on the keyboard, eyeing the report as it followed one command after another. He cocked an eyebrow. She had a Trojan horse hiding on her laptop. It was a damn good one, too, piggybacking on a stealth virus. Normal antivirus checks hadn’t picked it up. He pulled out a hidden drawer and retrieved a disk, slotting it into his computer. He entwined his fingers, inverted his hands and listened to the satisfying crack of knuckles. He rested his fingers on the keyboard. He wiggled them. And smiled at the thrill of the hunt.
I love my job
.

Using the software program he’d personally created, he entered code and bypassed Maggie’s security. Data streamed across the screen in front of him, and he absorbed the information. After just a few short minutes, he was able to tag the malicious software program. A little longer, and he had access to every record, every file, every program on Maggie’s laptop. The Trojan horse allowed a hacker from a remote site to track every one of Maggie’s movements, and to gain access to the programs she accessed. Including the Tek-Intel research.

He leaned back and exhaled a low whistle.
Holy hell
. His easy ability to access the university’s secured sites, and peek into some sort of military-protected research site astonished him. Someone else had this access. His eyes focused on the balled-up knitting. Was Maggie actually innocent of the crimes she was charged with committing? Or was she such a damn good spy that she’d neatly provided a cover for herself?

The lock on the front door rattled. Luke’s head whipped around. He’d forgotten to set the alarm. In an instant, he was off the chair to stand behind the door as it slowly swung open. He pulled his Glock out of his holster in a one-handed grip and aimed it head-high at the intruder.

A dark clothed figure stepped inside. Luke pressed the pistol to the man’s head. The man paused.

“Breathe, and I’ll shoot,”

The man burst out laughing. “Not if I shoot you first, Fletch.”

Luke felt the pressure of a barrel against his stomach. He rolled his eyes as Drew Michaels turned his head slightly, his eyes crinkling with humor as Noah Samuels stepped in behind him and closed the door, then tapped a code on the interior keypad, ensuring the security system was reactivated.

Luke nodded at Noah. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” Reese must have put them on a plane as soon as he’d seen the first report of the cop murders.

“Where’s Viper?” Noah asked, his voice low and deep, his expression serious. The man rarely smiled.

Luke jerked his head toward the bathroom. “She’s taking a shower.” The water was still running. He frowned, glancing at his watch. He’d been distracted with hacking into her laptop. She’d been in there for nearly twenty minutes. Cold fire lanced through him.

“Damn.”

He ran down the hall and into the bedroom, Noah and Drew on his heels. He tried the door knob. It was still locked. He pounded on the door. Nothing. He fished the key out of his pocket, his heart sinking. He unlocked the door and pushed against it. Steam unfurled through the opening, like a billowing cape. The shower curtain was pulled to the side, and the shower was empty. A pile of soiled clothes lay in a heap on the floor. He turned around in the bathroom. A dirty shoe print marred the white surface of the toilet seat lid, and the window was cracked open.

Anger warred with admiration inside Luke. The window would have been a tight fit for the curvaceous woman, and in her physical state it would’ve been damned painful. Anger eventually won out. He’d fallen for her damned little Orphan Annie routine, after all.

“Well. I’d say your first solo assignment is going swimmingly, dear Lucas,” Drew commented in a pseudo-British accent.

“C’mon, Drew. Cut him some slack. You know the first time is always messy.” This unexpected defense came from a smirking Noah.

Luke narrowed his eyes and shot a glare in their direction.

“It’s okay, Fletch. Viper just made this assignment interesting,” Drew said.

“Bite me,” he muttered as he left the room, his two colleagues chuckling behind him.
Great
. He’d screwed up big time, with witnesses.

He strode into the living room, his fists clenching as he tried to calm himself. He was a soldier, damn it.
Don’t let emotion cloud your judgment
.
Think. Where would Maggie go?

“What’s that?” Drew and Noah had followed him, and Drew gestured to the laptop on the counter.

Luke eyed it before crossing to the bag it had arrived in. “It’s Maggie’s laptop,” he answered.

“Maggie?” Drew queried. Noah arched a lazy eyebrow.

Luke’s jaw clenched as he rifled through the other contents of the bag. Drew didn’t need to say a word. Luke knew what he was thinking. Luke had personalized the target. Used her name, gotten close. Let down his guard. And because of his lapse, she’d escaped. No wonder Reese had sent his primary field agents as support. He’d acted like a rookie.

He found a worn ladies’ leather wallet. The clasp was broken, the leather dry and cracking in some places.
Maggie must be spending her money on other things.
It was confusing, though. With all the millions of dollars paid to Viper for her assignments, surely she would have at least bought a new wallet? A quick search of the wallet turned up identification cards, but not much else. Certainly no cash. He glanced at the driver’s license. It was way past time for renewal.

“Is that her address?” Drew queried. “She’s not stupid, so she probably won’t go home, but we might find something there that will point us to where she’s gone.”

Luke frowned at the expiration date of the license. Nearly a year ago. “Let me check.”

He crossed over to another keyboard and typed in some data.

Maggie’s image popped up on screen, as well as miniaturized versions of her driver’s license and university staff access cards. He pulled up more information. In seconds he had access to her bank details and bills.

“The address on the license is wrong.” He printed out her current address, and pocketed her wallet. He was about to delete the screen when he noticed her statements. She was in overdraft.

He quickly flicked through the account. Several large amounts were withdrawn, but only modest deposits in keeping with her librarian’s salary were made. Noah came up behind him, eyeing the screen.

“Any good spy would have an offshore account.”

“But any good spy would also keep their accounts in order so as not to attract attention. It looks like the bank is about to close the account,” Luke argued. He’d made the mistake of believing the facts before him. He’d assumed she was obedient, docile, and she’d pulled the oldest trick in the book and escaped. She’d raised some interesting arguments earlier, too, about the evidence against her. There were just enough questions that made him want to take a second look at the whole situation. Something about this just didn’t make sense.

“Maybe that’s the reason she stole the prototype,” Drew offered, peering over his shoulder. “She needed the money.”

“We’ve got records of Viper’s activities going back eight years. She’s been paid handsomely for her work. She could buy her own private island, if she wanted to,” Luke said.

Noah shrugged. “You’re the tech dude. Find the money.”

Luke held up the paper with Maggie’s address on it. “Right now, I want to find the spy.”

Twenty minutes later Luke crouched in front of the door to Maggie’s apartment, squinting as he picked the lock.

He heard a sigh of impatience before a boot connected with the door not an inch from his ear. The door slammed open. He didn’t flinch, but turned and looked up at Noah.

“Well, that was subtle,” he commented dryly.

Noah shrugged. “I wanted to get in before I died of old age.”

Drew tried unsuccessfully to hold back a grin as he passed both of them. “Children…”

Luke followed his colleagues into the one bedroom apartment and stopped in the living area, just as his colleagues had.

The sofa was made up as a bed, a knitted blanket draped neatly over the cushions. Boxes were stacked with a neat precision, their opening facing the room to form a temporary wardrobe. There was no television. No stereo equipment. The bare essentials, and that was all. Books were piled haphazardly on the floor, and framed photographs littered every surface.

“Well, lookee here,” Noah said, moving a pillow at the end of the sagging sofa. The corner of a graphic novel peeked out. He pulled it from its hiding place, looked at the cover and did a double take.

“Wonder Woman? A spy who reads comics?” He handed it to Luke, who scanned the cover, frowning.

“Viper has a real thing for Wonder Woman.” But why? He looked around the spare apartment. Why would a successful spy-for-hire live in these poor conditions, and read superhero comics?

Luke peered at the nearest picture. A very young Maggie was hugged by an older woman who bore a familial resemblance, with a large man holding them both. Her parents, no doubt. He glanced at the next photo. More of the same, this time they sat side-by-side under a Christmas tree, except the father was missing. Luke vaguely remembered reading in her file that her father had died when she was young. He quickly checked the background of the photo. Wherever it was, the picture wasn’t taken in this apartment.