My Spy

by Marie Ferrarella

  Pru took charge. “I can take care of that for you,” she told Alvin. “I’ll be needing that alcohol again, Mrs. Wakefield.”

  “It’s Elizabeth, dear. And what shall I call you?” she asked, turning around in the doorway that led to the bathroom.

  “Pru.” Pru paused a second, debating. She didn’t bother looking toward Joshua for permission. It was her name and her life. “Prudence. Prudence Hill,” she finally said.

  “Hill.” Wiry tufts of white and gray eyebrows drew together. Alvin peered up at her face. “Like the prime minister?”

  Pru nodded, then smiled. “Exactly like the prime minister. I’m his daughter. And these two men—” she nodded toward the dead man on the floor and the one that Joshua had just finished tying up “—kidnapped me yesterday morning.”

  Alcohol in hand, Elizabeth turned toward Joshua. “And you are?”

  “The man who rescued her,” Joshua replied.

  Nonetheless, Elizabeth sighed as she looked from one to the other. “How very romantic.”

  Alvin clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Only you would say something like that, Lizzie, with a dead man on our floor.” He winced slightly, then clenched his hands in his lap as Pru finished cleaning up his wound. “Speaking of which—” he tried to turn to look at Joshua “—what do we do with him?”

  Joshua knew what he would have liked to have done with him—strung him up by his heels as warning to whoever it was who’d sent the kidnapper—but he had a job to complete and vengeance was for those who had time. “Do you have a constable or police officer in town?”

  “There’s only Jeremy,” Alvin told him. “Jeremy Kemp. His range is tracking down stolen bicycles and finding lost dogs. We don’t have any real crime here,” Alvin confided.

  “We’ve stumbled onto Brigadoon,” Joshua commented under his breath, exchanging glances with Pru. “Well, I’m afraid you do now. Do you feel up to going and fetching Jeremy, Mr. Wakefield? He might be more willing to come in the middle of the night if he sees a familiar face. I’ll stay here with your wife and Prudence, and see what I can get out of this one—” he nodded toward the bound man “—while you’re gone.”

  “Of course, of course.” Alvin stopped a moment to look at Pru. “The prime minister’s daughter, eh? Quite an honor to have you here, my dear.”

  “Getting beaten up on my behalf wasn’t,” Pru said.

  But he shook his head before she could apologize. “All part of it, my dear. And it wasn’t really so bad,” he assured them, smiling as he headed toward the door. “You two saved me from worse.”

  But the way Pru saw it, Alvin and Elizabeth wouldn’t have needed saving if she and Joshua had never come here in the first place.

  Chapter 10

  The man in the chair shrank against his ropes. Rather than appearing to be some deadly assassin, he looked terrified. His dark eyes were huge as they followed Joshua’s every move and he seemed afraid of being beaten. There was a discoloration forming on his forehead where he had hit it against the floor when he’d gone down.

  “I don’t know who hired us,” he cried for the third time. “I only know Malcolm and Conrad.” He looked from the man to the woman he’d helped kidnap to the old woman he’d terrorized, clearly hoping for some pity. “Malcolm brought me along because I was handy with cars and he thought that maybe there’d be a need for that. I didn’t even know who the hell we were supposed to be kidnapping until just now.”

  “And you’re all right with that?” Pru demanded. “Just swooping down and kidnapping a defenseless woman for no reason?”

  “You weren’t defenseless. You bit me,” the man, Ken, protested. “And there was a reason all right.” It was obvious that this was not the brightest that the underworld had to offer. “Malcolm said that there’d be money, lots and lots of it. That your family would pay anything to get you back. And nobody was going to be hurt,” he added nervously, as if that made everything all right. “He told me that, Malcolm did.” He all but pouted as he said, “But then you shot Malcolm. And Conrad.” His voice dropped as he looked at the form beneath the sheet.

  Because it had upset the old woman to see the body, Pru had gotten a sheet and spread it over the dead man.

  As if he didn’t have a care in the world, Joshua cocked his weapon and aimed it at the third kidnapper. “And now I’m going to shoot you—unless you want to tell me the truth.”

  “I am telling you the truth,” the man sobbed. “I don’t know how else to say it. Conrad said he was taking orders from someone too high up for me to know about. That he was the only one who could talk to this guy. Conrad said the less I knew, the better.” He tried to shrug and couldn’t. The ropes were tight. “That was good enough for me.” The kidnapper shifted his eyes toward Pru. “Please, it’s the truth. So help me God, it’s the truth.”

  “God can’t help you once that one gets a notion in his head and starts going,” Pru told him solemnly, nodding her head in Joshua’s direction. She turned toward Elizabeth, taking the woman by the arm. “Maybe I’d better take you into the next room, Elizabeth. You won’t want to see this.”

  “Take me,” the man in the chair cried, trying desperately to get loose. “Take me to the next room. Don’t leave me here with him. Please!”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t leave him in there,” Elizabeth whispered to her the moment they were in the next room. The old woman looked concerned despite the fact that the man had tried to hurt her husband.

  What a good soul this woman is, Pru thought. She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Joshua’s just trying to scare him,” she told Elizabeth.

  And then there was a scream. Elizabeth stiffened, her bright blue eyes widened. “Sounds like he’s scared him plenty.”

  Any further speculation was curtailed as Joshua walked into the room, leaving his prisoner in the kitchen. “He doesn’t know anything.”

  Pru took a breath as she glanced toward the other room. “Did you…kill him?”

  Joshua shook his head and then laughed. “No, he fainted.”

  “Fainted? Then what was that scream we just heard?” she wanted to know.

  “I cocked my weapon next to his head. Thought that if he had anything to tell me, that would do it. The fact that he fainted told me that he didn’t and he was afraid he was going to die because of that.” Frowning, he walked back into the other room and looked at the shape on the floor. “Looks like Malcolm here was the only man who knew anything.” Squatting down, he removed the sheet from the body.

  “Shouldn’t touch anything,” Elizabeth cautioned nervously, averting her eyes from the body. “It’s a crime scene.” She glanced at Pru. “I’ve seen all those American shows. They always say don’t touch the body.”

  “That’s because they’re trying to find out who killed the victim and how,” Joshua told the old woman, adding wryly, “I already know who killed him and how.” Very carefully, he went through the man’s pockets, looking for something that might connect him to whoever it was who had paid Malcolm, or whatever his real name was, to kidnap Pru. “What I need to know is who gave him his orders.”

  Malcolm’s wallet was in his back pocket. Taking it out, Joshua found only a few bills, a receipt for a van rental and his driver’s license.

  “Malcolm Smythe,” Joshua read, then snorted. “Not bloody likely.” He committed the address to memory, just in case it might lead Lucia to something when he could finally get through to her. The rest of his search through the dead man’s pockets only yielded a torn stub from a race track. “Obviously the man wasn’t a winner,” Joshua commented, rising. He made a quick decision. Better safe than sorry. “Prudence, we’re going to have to get you out of here.”

  Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. He knew what the woman was thinking. That he’d promised to remain until Alvin returned.

  “But my husband will be here any minute with the constable.”

  Joshua took the old woman’s hand between both of his. “I’m sure yo
u’re more than capable of explaining to Constable Jeremy what happened here tonight.”

  In response, Elizabeth laughed almost shyly. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “But why do we have to go?” Pru protested. “You got the men who were after me and I’m exhausted. Can’t we just spend the night here?”

  It was a lot more complicated than that. These sort of things always were.

  “That bug they planted on you led the men who abducted you to this house. But they’re not the only ones in on this,” he reminded her. “That one—” he nodded at the man in the chair “—said that Malcolm was reporting to someone. I don’t think we should just hang around and take a chance on the next team finding you here.”

  “The next team?” Pru echoed. This was a dream, a bad dream. A nightmare and any second now, she was going to wake up.

  Elizabeth looked suddenly concerned as she took Pru’s elbow. “Oh, my dear, he’s right. You’re not safe here. You have to go. Go.” The old woman all but shooed them both toward the door.

  Still Pru hesitated. She didn’t like the idea of leaving an old woman with a potential killer, even if her husband and the constable were due shortly.

  She looked at Elizabeth uncertainly. “You’ll be all right?”

  Elizabeth snorted and crossed her arms before her ample chest. “He’s bound like a turkey and tied to a chair,” she pointed out. “And besides, I have a skillet.” Moving over to the cupboard, she took it out and wielded it in the air like a lethal weapon. “I’ll be all right, dear,” she promised. Elizabeth looked at Joshua. “You keep her safe.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Just as he was about to usher Pru out the front door, Joshua paused. “Is there an inn or a hotel somewhere in the vicinity?”

  Elizabeth thought for a moment. “It’s been a while since Alvin and I needed that sort of information. But I believe there’s an inn about twenty kilometers due north of here. Robin’s Nest, it’s called.” She looked uncertain about the matter as she added, “Some say it’s haunted. Might even be torn down by now.”

  North instead of south. That placed them back around Haworth, he thought. But at least it was something. And people around here were not quick to tear anything down. “We’ll give it a try.”

  Pru doubled back to hug the woman and thank her one last time. Rejoining Joshua, she waited until she was outside the house before she informed him, “I am not staying in a haunted inn.”

  His hand to her back, Joshua gently moved her along in case she decided to go back inside one last time. They had to get going. He had this feeling of urgency and although his feelings were not infallible, he knew better than to ignore them.

  “At least the ghosts won’t want to kidnap you.”

  Rather than take the newer vehicle, in case there was some way to track it, he decided it was best to continue with the truck. Joshua opened the passenger door for her and Pru got in.

  “Very funny,” she muttered.

  Hobbling around the hood, he got in on the driver’s side. She had a look on her face. By now, he recognized stubbornness on her when he saw it.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He started up the truck and then backed out of the driveway. “I thought you were an intelligent woman.”

  She didn’t like his tone, or what he was implying. Pru crossed her arms and stared ahead, seeing nothing but darkness. “Intelligent enough to keep an open mind about things.”

  “Like spirits.” He didn’t bother trying to stifle a laugh.

  Pru frowned. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” she said haughtily.

  She was quoting Hamlet, he thought. Why was it that people always resorted to quoting famous lines when they couldn’t make the point themselves? “People believed in ghosts in Hamlet’s day,” he reminded her.

  “People believe in ghosts now,” she countered. It wasn’t that she actually believed in ghosts, but she didn’t like feeling nervous in the dark and when things went bump in the night, that was enough to keep her up until first light. Something she really didn’t need right now.

  He glanced at her as he picked up a little speed. There was an entire stretch before them that wasn’t buried in fog. “And why do you believe in ghosts?”

  She blew out a breath, refusing to look at him even though she could feel his eyes on her. “Let’s just say this isn’t my first go-around at being kidnapped.”

  Pieces began to fall together. “The time you were ten.”

  So he knew about that. She’d forgotten that he had access to her file—whatever that really meant. She supposed that somewhere, within some government agency, there was an accounting of everything she had ever done since she’d been on solid food. The thought did not please her. She wasn’t a fanatic about privacy, but it would have been nice to maintain a shred of it.

  “The time I was ten,” Pru agreed. “That time, they did want money.” She looked out on the road grimly. “They locked me in the closet for three days. Three very long days and nights. In the dark.”

  Though he would never admit it to anyone, he’d gone through a phase of “monsters-in-the-dark” himself when he was eight. His father had ridiculed him for it and that was when he’d decided to tough it out and show his father what he was made of. He supposed, in a way, he’d been showing his father ever since.

  “Well, since nothing came to whisk you away into the nether world during that time, that should have cured you.”

  “It didn’t.” It made her almost pathologically afraid of the dark for close to ten years. She still had relapses every so often. Those were the nights she slept with the light on. “I had a powerful imagination. Still do.”

  “Fair enough.” Glancing at the odometer, he estimated they had another fifteen to eighteen kilometers to go. “Tell you what, when we get there, I’ll stand guard while you sleep.”

  So now he didn’t need sleep? “Are you going to tell me you’re a robot?”

  The question made him laugh. “I just don’t need as much sleep as the average person. Besides, it’s not all that many hours until dawn. Maybe by then, we’ll be able to find a signal in this godforsaken place.”

  She’d detected a bit of an accent when he spoke, an accent that told her Joshua might have once been a native of Great Britain, but he didn’t spend most of his time here now.

  His dismissive tone offended her sense of patriotism, though she didn’t usually trot it out. “Don’t you like England?”

  “I don’t like the countryside,” he corrected. It was much too laid back for him. He found himself missing the noise, the pace that belonged to the city. “Give me urban life any time.”

  “Really?” She supposed that they were probably as opposite as possible. “I like the country. There’s something uncomplicated and simple about it. Relaxing,” she added, “away from places where buildings and people are all vying for space when there’s a limited amount to be had.”

  It was an interesting philosophy for someone who lived in one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. “Then what are you doing in London?”

  There were times when she asked herself just that. Especially during the wee hours of the morning, when everything about life felt unsettled, like shoes that didn’t quite fit. And questions came to haunt her from every part of her mind.

  “It was my father’s idea, actually, although Uncle George advanced it. George Montgomery,” she added when she saw him looking at her curiously. The man really wasn’t her uncle, he was her father’s best friend and a peacekeeper. He’d been the go-between when she and her father had had that rough patch that took her to third-world countries. “He wanted to keep the family ‘close.’” Her smile was unreadable. “Good for his image and all that sort of thing.”

  Joshua studied her for a moment, then shook his head. He wasn’t buying it. “I don’t see you as someone who would obligingly go along with something like that for the sake of a political career.”

  “
My father’s political career,” she pointed out.

  “Even so.”

  He was either good at reading people, or at guessing, she thought.

  “I wanted to go back to school, to get my doctorate.” That had been her primary reason for returning to London after her stint in Africa. That and her new job at Feed the Children. “And I have to admit,” she added grudgingly, “there are some interesting things about the city. The theater, for instance.” She caught herself stifling a yawn. “God, I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open.”

  After what she’d been through today, he didn’t understand why she hadn’t collapsed the second she’d gotten into the truck. “Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggested. “I’ll wake you once we’re at the inn.”

  The offer was tempting and for a moment, she considered it. “You’re sure you know where you’re going, Secret Agent Man?”

  He had an inherent sense of direction that was rarely wrong. “Just get some sleep,” he advised.

  Pru stifled another yawn, then decided against taking a nap. The last time she’d closed her eyes, she’d opened them to find herself tied to a chair. She could hang on a little longer. “Thanks, but I think I should stay awake just in case you start to fall asleep at the wheel—even if you think you are a robot. No sense in taking any chances, right?”

  He had enough adrenaline racing through his veins from the last incident to keep him going into the middle of next week. But he said nothing. Instead, he merely nodded. “Suit yourself.”

  She gave him a look that said she didn’t need his permission for anything. “I usually do.”

  Pru had no idea exactly when she fell asleep. One moment, she was staring at the fog-enshrouded road, talking to Joshua about the Wakefields and how bad she felt about what might have happened to them because of her, the next she was opening her eyes and found that she was in his arms, being carried somewhere.

  For just the smallest of fleeting seconds, still half asleep, Pru smiled, enjoying the sensation of being held by him. But the very next moment, she was fully conscious and awake. And on her guard.