Spies of the Angui - Cipher's Kiss Book 3

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Spies of the Angui - Cipher's Kiss Book 3 Page 1

by Walker, Heather




  Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Thanks For Reading

  SPIES OF THE ANGUI

  CIPHER’S KISS BOOK THREE

  HEATHER WALKER

  Copyright © 2019 Heather Walker

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  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Chapter 1

  Vic Doyle crossed her legs one over the other and settled back in the coffee shop armchair, bright orange-painted lips pursed. Glaring at Ellen, she said, “I hope you’re satisfied.”

  Ellen Burke smiled across the table at her friend, then sipped her coffee before replying, “I’m perfectly satisfied. And so is Ree. That should be enough for the rest of you.”

  “And this project doesn’t bother you at all?” Vic asked, irked most by that smile. “Are you seriously gonna sit there and tell me everything’s hunky-dory and we shouldn’t worry about a thing? You were the one telling me only last week there was something wrong with the Prometheus formulation.” In all the craziness surrounding Primary Industries these last few weeks, Ellen’s countenance shone brighter and happier than Vic had seen in years. Something was off. Vic suspected that in the marrow of her bones.

  No one catching a casual glimpse of the two women would ever suspect they’d been friends all their lives. Vic wore a Day-Glo orange skirt suit over bright orange pantyhose. Her fuchsia paisley blouse had enormous lapels overlapping her jacket in wide dagger points. Chunky bracelets clustered her wrists, and diamond rings festooned her fingers. Turquoise teardrop earrings bumped her rouged cheeks every time she moved. Deep magenta eyeshadow and thick eyeliner masked her jewel-green eyes under blazing red curls piled in a mountain of swirling madness on her head. Ellen, on the other hand, always wore some variation of a simple, elegant black suit over knee-high leather jackboots. Her suit, her boots, her long straight hair, and her piercing black eyes—they all matched.

  Ellen set her coffee mug down and looked Vic in the eyes. “I’ll admit it’s not the most conventional job we’ve ever taken, but who wants to work on conventional all the time? I talked to Ree about it, and we worked out our differences. Once she explained the project to me in a way I could understand, I realized it really is okay. I have no more misgivings about it, and neither should the rest of you.”

  “What about the part where San Francisco City Council contracted us to safety test a chemical formula that had already been made, and then we found out we were actually formulating it from scratch on our own?” Vic countered. “What happened to that?”

  “You’re right,” Ellen conceded. “We are formulating it on our own.”

  “What are you going to tell the city council about that?” Vic asked. “How are you going to deal with their supervisor hanging around our lab, looking over our shoulders, and watching everything we do? Do you really think you can cover this up from him?”

  Ellen blushed like Vic hadn’t seen her blush in years, then lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap. “You don’t have to worry about Louis Kirk. I’ll handle him.”

  “You keep saying that,” Vic snapped, “but you still haven’t explained it to me in a way that I can understand. Until you do that, I can’t in good conscience continue to work on this project.”

  Ellen’s shoulders drooped. She leaned forward and seized her friend’s hand. “Aw, come on, Vic. You’re the best biochemist we’ve got, and you know more about pharmaceutical physiology than any of us. We need you. We can’t do this without you. You know that.”

  “Then you better start talking.” Vic crossed her arms over her chest and wedged herself back in the chair, even though she was already as far back as she could go. She leveled Ellen with a harsh glare. “Tell me exactly what’s going on with the Prometheus formula, and don’t give me any of that claptrap you’ve been spewing about everything being okay and you and Ree’s story about it being good enough for the rest of us to just take on faith. You two are lying about something, and Quinn and Mila know it too. If you don’t come clean, you’ll lose all three of us and you and Ree can work on this formula together by yourselves. As a matter of fact, you two can run this company on your own from now on.”

  Ellen’s chin fell to her chest, and she closed her eyes. “Don’t do this, Vic. Please. The five of us have been together since we were kids. We’ve all put our life’s blood into making this the best chemical company it can be. We’re just getting to the top of our game. Don’t turn your back on that now.”

  Vic lunged forward in her chair and barked, “You’re the ones turning your back on this friendship, keeping secrets and expecting the three of us to just do your bidding!” She took a breath and looked around at the heads turned because her voice had echoed around the coffee shop. Lowering her voice, she leaned forward again and said, “You’re the ones turning your backs on everything we’ve built. What’s going on with you two? Ever since Allied Chemical tried to buy us out and Ree brought in Ned Lewis as our strategist, this whole company has come apart at the seams.”

  “It hasn’t come apart at the seams,” Ellen countered. “It’s just as good and just as strong as ever. We’ve got some of our best contracts going right now.”

  Vic narrowed her eyes at Ellen and squared her shoulders, then lowered her voice to a menacing growl. “We built this company on the cohesion between the five of us. All our success depended on that, and now the two of you have decided to undermine it for some reason best known only to yourselves. If you won’t tell us what’s going on, how are we supposed to trust you?”

  Ellen collapsed back into her own seat. “So that’s it? You’ll quit if I don’t tell you?”

  “You’re giving me no choice! First Ree’s mysterious behavior for the last three months, and now you’re falling right in line all of a sudden. I have no idea what level of concerned I should even be right now! Neither of you is acting right, and it all started with this project and those men. For all I know, this project could be unethical. It could be some kind of human experiment operating under the radar. Maybe they have you both under their spells and you don’t even know it!”

  “Oh, don’t be so ridiculous!” Ellen snorted. She scratched her cheek and looked away.

  Vic observed the conflict warring in Elle
n’s face. Tall, lean, powerful, and stunningly gorgeous, Ellen had always been Vic’s idea of what she wished she looked like. Vic barely came up to Ellen’s chest when the two women stood side by side. Ellen didn’t have to wear loud clothes or heavy makeup or flashy jewelry. She always looked like a supermodel, even in those tomboy jackboots of hers. Plain-Jane Vic, on the other hand, had to sparkle herself up any way she could to get noticed.

  Ellen glanced right and left, then stole a quick glimpse at Vic’s countenance set in granite before she looked away again.

  Now Vic knew for certain Ellen was hiding something. Not one week ago, Ellen had come around the company lab whispering in her ear about all the curious facets of the Prometheus project. She was more concerned than anyone about how strangely their friend and CEO Ree Hamilton had started acting after Ned Lewis showed up. Vic and Ellen agreed to monitor this situation together, to confirm their own suspicions to each other. Now Ellen was in on it. Vic read that in her face plain as day.

  Ellen fidgeted in her chair. She clasped her fingers again and again. At last, she mumbled under her breath, “I wish I could tell you. I really do.”

  Vic’s heart went out to her friend. “Why don’t you do it, then? Tell me what’s going on.”

  Ellen shook her head, her long black hair swaying over her shoulders. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’ll have to talk to Ree about it. If she says I can tell you, I will.”

  Vic let out a shaky breath. “All right. I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that.”

  Ellen took her friend’s hand again. “It really is okay. We’re not doing anything we’re not supposed to do, and we won’t get in trouble with City Council. I promise you that.”

  “How can you be sure?” Vic asked. “All Louis Kirk’s reports will go back to Ben Harris for review. If he suspects anything, he could nail us to the wall.”

  To Vic’s shock, a twisted grin spread over Ellen’s face and a tiny wicked spark danced in her dark eyes. “You don’t have to worry about Ben Harris, or Louis Kirk, or the city council, and you certainly don’t have to worry about the Prometheus formula. Just concentrate on working it out. I’ll do everything I can to help you, and I’ll talk to Ree about giving you more information. Now, I gotta get back to the office. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Ellen got to her feet and left the coffee shop before Vic could stop her, but Vic didn’t want to stop her. She sat back to gaze out the window. Instead of putting her mind at ease, this conversation had only made her more suspicious than ever. What were they up to? What was this Prometheus formula really all about? That grin on Ellen’s face had alarmed Vic more than anything. She’d seemed awfully sure of herself when she said Louis Kirk and Ben Harris wouldn’t be a problem. How could she possibly know that for sure when both those men were supposed to oversee this project?

  While she sat there thinking things over, two women strolled into the coffee shop and parked themselves on the couch next to her. Vic roused herself from her reverie and smiled up at Mila Sanchez and Quinn Brewer—the other two out of the five compatriots who’d built Primary Industries together and, right now, the only two she knew she could trust.

  Mila’s layered chocolate tresses framed an elfin face with crystal-blue eyes. Her navy blue dress hugged her hips down to midthigh, and a long silver chain hung between her breasts, almost to her navel. Quinn wore tight faded blue jeans and a button-up white shirt with a black leather jacket. Her straight blonde bob cut sharp curves against her cheeks as it formed two points aiming for her mouth.

  “What’s up, Vic?” Mila asked. “That ELISA assay you asked for is ready and waiting for you back at the lab.”

  Vic let her gaze drift back to the window. “Do me a favor, will you? Email me the results, and I’ll review them on my phone at home.”

  Quinn jumped. “At home! What are you going home for?”

  “I’m having an issue with Ree and Ellen,” Vic replied.

  “Issue?” Quinn echoed. “Like?”

  “Come on, Quinn, don’t tell me you haven’t seen how the other two have been acting this past few months, ever since Ned arrived. Or haven’t seen much of Ree, is more like it, and now Ellen is acting all weird too ever since she fell head over heels for Louis Kirk. The independent supervisor assigned to us by the City Council, of all people!” Vic narrowed her eyes. “Something is going on, and they shouldn’t be keeping it from us. I’ve told Ellen I have to know the truth. Until they tell me the truth, I won’t be coming back to the lab.”

  Mila and Quinn exchanged glances.

  Placing a hand on Vic’s knee, Mila sighed and said, “Don’t tell me. You’re having problems with the Prometheus formulation?”

  “Ellen was just here. She’s going to ask Ree, and hopefully they’ll agree to tell me everything.” Vic heard her own voice from far away, as if it hadn’t come from her. She picked up her coffee and looked into the dark liquid as she gently swirled the cup. “Until I understand exactly what’s going on, I can’t come back to work. This project could be unethical.”

  Quinn leaned forward to look at Vic on the other side of Mila and said, “You don’t really think they’re conspiring with City Council around this formula, do you? Surely not! I can’t believe either of them would jeopardize our company much less the public’s safety.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Vic replied. “We have no idea what we’re working on, and until I can confirm I’m working on something safe and legal, I won’t work at all.”

  Mila and Quinn looked at each other again.

  “That’s taking it a little too far, don’t you think?” Mila asked. “I think you can trust Ree and Ellen on this. They wouldn’t take a project that wasn’t ethical. You know what those two are like. They screen our contracts with a fine-toothed comb. If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.”

  Vic snatched her handbag off the floor at her feet. “Great. If it’s good enough for you, you can get back to working on it. I’m leaving. I’ll be at home. You can email me or call me if you need anything.”

  Mila jumped to her feet to match Vic. “What are we gonna tell Ree and Ellen?”

  “I already told Ellen,” Vic replied. “See you later.”

  Chapter 2

  Malcolm Gunn swiveled his chair away from his desk toward the window behind him. He raised the binoculars in his grip and scanned the coffee shop across the street to watch Vic Doyle talking first to Ellen Burke and then to Mila Sanchez and Quinn Brewer. He scrutinized Vic’s every expression and gesture, easily read from his position in his office on the second floor because she wore so much makeup.

  While he watched the three women talk, a knock on his office door stole his attention. “Yes?” he said over his shoulder, loud enough for whoever it was to hear.

  A young man in a tailored gray suit entered and held out a clipboard to Malcolm. “Those reports you requested just came in. They’re moving on the estate over in Berkeley Hills, just like you said they would. Do you want us to intercept?”

  Malcolm slipped his binoculars into his pocket and took the clipboard out of the young assistant’s hands, then quickly looked through the first few pages. “Not yet, Stewart. There’s something I need to do first.”

  “Sir?” Stewart asked, arching a brow. “You said this was urgent. If we don’t move on it now, they’ll beat us to it. We can’t allow them to entrench any further than they already have.”

  Malcolm shoved the clipboard back into Stewart’s hands. “I’ll be the one to decide how much they entrench and when and how we move. I said don’t do anything yet, and if I find out you did behind my back, Stewart, I’ll cut you off at the knees. Don’t do anything until I order you to. I don’t care if they buy up half the property in the East Bay. Now, I’m going out and I won’t be back in the office for the rest of today and probably tomorrow too.”

  Stewart gulped and raised his puppy-dog eyes to meet Malcolm’s gaze. “What do you want me to do?”

&nbs
p; “Sit on your hands,” Malcolm replied. “Don’t even look at that property again. Don’t look at anything, especially not the Lewises. Do you hear me? You’ll only drive yourself crazy.”

  Stewart swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Malcolm clapped him on the shoulder, then turned back to the window and took out his binoculars. “Waiting is the hardest part. The sooner you learn that and make your peace with it, the easier it will be.”

  “How do you do it, sir?” Stewart asked. “How can you stand just waiting around doing nothing?”

  “You stand it by doing something else. You stand it by getting busy with all the other things in your life.” He watched Vic pick up her handbag and head for the door and dropped his binoculars back in his pocket. “I’ll see you later, Stewart. Don’t work too hard.” He slipped out of the office.

  Vic’s bright orange figure headed south down the street.

  Malcolm went north, quickening his pace to turn the corner. He’d followed Vic Doyle so many times, he knew exactly where she would go and how long it would take her to get there, and he had to work fast so she wouldn’t see him. His heels clipped down the sidewalk until he spotted the trees of Golden Gate Park. He dodged into the bushes and broke into a run, trying to get around in front of her. He ran between clumps of undergrowth and manicured lawns, zipped around mothers pushing strollers, and dashed across bridges over streams and ponds. He ran until he recognized the spot he wanted, where the path wound into a different bunch of trees. The trunks crowded around the narrow footpath, and two sturdy manzanita trees grew on either side, acting like entrance columns for this stretch of the trail.

  Stopping in front of the entrance, he closed his fist with his right thumb sticking out. He touched his thumb to the left-hand trunk, just above his head, then traced a diagonal line to a spot on the right-hand trunk, near the ground. He repeated the pattern going the other way, high up on the right-hand trunk and then down to the left-hand trunk’s base. He straightened up and extended his thumb to the point where the two lines should have crossed, then circled it in an ever-widening spiral around the two crossed lines.

 

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