The Librarian and the Spy

by Susan Mann

  “If someone takes it for a joy ride and it ends up in Birmingham, all the better for us,” James said.

  The station wasn’t much more than an outdoor platform. James bought the tickets from a vending machine and the trio slowly climbed the stairs. They took refuge in a small covered shelter on the platform. It was of little comfort. Quinn shivered on the cold bench and pressed her hands between her knees in a vain attempt to keep them warm. She really missed her coat.

  They waited ten agonizing minutes for the train to arrive, and when it came to a stop, Quinn was off the bench like she’d been shot from a cannon. She hopped on the train as soon as the doors opened. It wasn’t exactly a sauna, but it was infinitely better than being outside.

  She knew where James wanted to sit, so she walked toward the last row of seats in the car. As she did, she noticed the furtive looks sent Ben’s direction from the passengers already seated. She couldn’t blame them. He looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a boxing kangaroo. Ben didn’t seem to care since he was asleep within a minute of the train rolling away from the station.

  An hour and forty-five minutes later, the train arrived at Euston Station. As they walked down the platform, James said to Quinn in a low tone, “I need to help get Ben cleaned up some.” He steered them toward the closest place to sit. “I’m gonna go to the pharmacy over there and pick up a few things.”

  Quinn nodded, sat down with Ben, and watched James hustle off. Five minutes later, he returned, bag in hand.

  The three walked to the men’s room and just before James and Ben went inside, James took out his money clip, peeled off two twenty-pound notes, and handed them to Quinn. “Can you go next door and buy some food and water?”

  “Sure,” she said, and plucked the money from his fingers. “You trust me to go it alone?”

  “You’ll be okay.” A wink accompanied his smile. “I happen to know you’re still armed and dangerous.”

  She flashed him a grin. “I am.”

  Had she looked over at Ben, she would have seen him smile, roll his eyes, and shake his head. Instead, she spun on her heel and walked toward the convenience store while he and James disappeared into the men’s room.

  A few minutes later, she exited the store with a bag loaded with three large bottles of water and some prepackaged sandwiches. She walked toward James who stood alone near the bathroom’s entrance. When he caught sight of her, he smiled. She noticed his entire body go slack in relief. “There you are,” he said.

  “I was only gone for five minutes.” She glanced around. “Where’s Ben?”

  “He had some business to take care of that a man’s gotta do on his own.” He opened his arms to her and she didn’t hesitate to accept his invitation. Arms around each other in a comfortable embrace, she rested her head on his chest. It vibrated when he said, “And maybe you were only gone for five minutes, but the last time you went someplace by yourself, you ended up running from a hail of bullets.”

  She tilted her head back and looked into his face. “I’m not sure it was a hail of bullets. I think it was more like a smattering.”

  His lips only twitched before his face clouded. “Do you know how terrified I was when you were being shot at?”

  “I have a pretty good idea since you were dodging bullets, too.”

  A smile appeared. He’d caught her meaning and an impish twinkle sparkled in his eyes. “You were worried about me even though I’m a blackguard and a liar?”

  She winced. “You heard that, huh?”

  He nodded and raised his eyebrows in amusement.

  “I was playing along with what Fitzhugh said about you being a bad guy. I wanted him to believe I was okay with you lying to me because I was in love with you and would do anything for you no matter what, including telling him about what was in the manuscript. Betrayed Quinn was in love with blackguard you. Not James you.” She was powerless to stop the panicky rambling. “Not that I don’t lo—erm, care about you, because I do. Or wouldn’t do anything for you. I would. Well, I mean, there are things I wouldn’t do, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I thought they had you tied up somewhere and that it was up to me to save you. You, James, you. Not blackguard, you. And Ben! To save Ben, too. And that was why I said what I said.” She closed her eyes and dropped her forehead against his chest. “You’re going to abandon me here in this train station, aren’t you?”

  He laughed and squeezed her tighter. She smiled despite her embarrassment. “Not a chance.”

  “How did you get away from Bruiser, anyway?” she asked, looking up at him again. “Fitzhugh told me he had you tied up.”

  “Bruiser, huh?”

  She lifted a shoulder and smiled.

  “I like it. It fits. I was never tied up. The door had barely closed when you went into the house with Fitzhugh and Ms. Badass . . . is that what you called her?” When her smile broadened and she nodded, he chuckled and continued. “Anyway, the minute you were inside, Bruiser had his gun pointed at me. After I wrenched it away, I hustled him off to the garage.”

  “Don’t believe a word he tells you, Quinn,” Ben’s voice said from behind James. “This guy’s full of crap.”

  At Ben’s return, Quinn expected James to release her. To her surprise, he didn’t. Instead, she remained firmly in James’s embrace and he replied with a mild, “She already knows that.”

  “And she’s still here with you?” To Quinn, Ben said, “I’m disappointed in you. All this time, I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “What can I say? He knows how to show a girl a good time. Technically, we’re still on our first date.”

  They turned and started toward the Underground section of Euston Station. James draped an arm around her shoulders and she slipped one of hers around his waist. She looked up at him. “Or did it end when you shot me in the back with a tranquilizer dart?”

  “He what?” Ben asked, sounding both amused and incredulous.

  James grimaced. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

  “Nope,” she said. She shifted her gaze to Ben. “You feeling a little better?” He looked better. The nasty purpling around his gray eyes was still prominent and his gait remained slow, but the dried blood on his face had been wiped away and the previously unruly brown hair had been tamed with a comb. In the light, Quinn noticed the flecks of gray at his chin in his four-day-old stubble. When she’d first seen him in the backseat of the Aston Martin all battered and bruised, he looked seventy. At least now he looked forty again. His previously contorted fingers were now taped together. She didn’t want to think about what Ben had endured to straighten them.

  “A little, yeah. Thanks. The painkillers will be kicking in soon. And don’t change the subject. I want to hear about my boy, here, shooting you on your first date.” He scowled at James and teased, “What’s the matter with you?”

  Quinn opened the bag she carried, took out a bottle of water, and unscrewed the cap. She reached across James and handed it to Ben. He took it and greedily chugged down half the bottle in one go.

  “We’ll fill you in on our adventures after he finishes telling me how he found you inside Fitzhugh’s house,” she said. She prompted James. “You just relieved Bruiser of his weapon and marched him into the garage.”

  “Right. I found some rope and secured him. At first, when I asked him where Ben was being held, he wasn’t very forthcoming. With a little persuasion, he told me Ben was in the cellar and how to get there. He failed to mention Hamish was skulking around. We ran into him as we left the cellar. That’s when I told you to run, Quinn.”

  “Persuasion?” Ben asked.

  He stiffened, slid his gaze toward Quinn, and then forward again. “Lug wrench.”

  To be confronted with the brutality of James and Ben’s world made her queasy. She knew James to be funny and sweet and kind and brave and smart and protective. And yet, in a world filled with dangerous and violent people, at times he had to be dangerous and violent himself.


  In a flash, it hit her that she was no different, really. In the fluid situation inside Fitzhugh’s house, she’d put a bullet into another human being and broke another’s nose. When the reality of her injuring others hit her full force, the world tilted and she stumbled.

  The arm around her shoulders steadied her. “Quinn? What’s wrong?” James asked. His voice was strained. “You’re pale. Do you need to sit down?”

  They stopped and Quinn felt him lift the bag she carried from her hand. A bottle of water was pressed into her hand. “Drink,” James’s voice commanded.

  The cool water cleared the fuzziness from her head. She blinked and James’s face, inches from hers and tight with worry, came into focus. Her voice was hoarse when she said, “I . . . I shot someone today.”

  James’s arms engulfed her and crushed her to him. There was no condemnation, only compassion in his soft reply. “I know.”

  She was vaguely aware of people rushing past them. The only thing she truly comprehended was the hand drawing soothing circles on her back. When James spoke again, his tone was filled with understanding, but firm with conviction. “You only did what you had to do. You only shot at them because they shot at you first, right?”

  She thought back on the moment when Fitzhugh’s bullet blew that vase to smithereens. Had she not been armed and returned fire, things would have turned out very differently for her, and for James and Ben. She nodded against his chest.

  “If you hadn’t done what you . . .” He paused, cleared his throat and started again. “It was your only option.” His hand gently caressed her cheek, lifted her head, and turned her face to his. “I want you to remind yourself of that whenever you start to beat yourself up over this.” With a raised eyebrow, he added, “Because I know you will.”

  She nodded mutely and gave him a watery smile.

  His thumb lightly rubbed her chin. He closed in and gave her a gentle, lingering kiss. It was so heartfelt and filled with tenderness, the tears that had been threatening finally squeezed through her lashes and trailed down her cheeks.

  Their kiss ended and James wiped at the wetness on her face with his thumbs. “I hate to push you, but we really need to keep going.”

  She swallowed hard, breathed deeply, and gritted her teeth. “I’m okay.” They released each other from the embrace, and immediately took each other’s hands. She glanced over at Ben who had moved a discreet distance away to give them some privacy. “Sorry about my little breakdown, Ben.”

  His sympathetic smile came quickly. “Are you kidding? You’re a warrior,” he said as he joined them and they started toward the escalators. “Anybody else who’d been shot at like you were today would be curled in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, and talking to their hand.”

  “He paints quite a picture, doesn’t he?” James said.

  She sent Ben a smile, grateful for his words. “He really does.”

  James’s phone chimed as they stepped onto the escalator. He glanced at the screen. “Our ride home tonight is lined up.”

  “Wait, home home? Like me going straight back to L.A. home? Tonight?” She was in no way mentally prepared to simply wave good-bye to James in an hour and fly off alone.

  James scowled and shook his head. “Oh God, no. All three of us are flying to Virginia together.” He gave Quinn a meaningful look. “My boss needs to talk to you.”

  Apparently debrief was not a word James wanted to utter in public.

  “Oh, okay. That makes sense,” she said, relieved.

  “What’s our time frame?” Ben asked. “Can we swing by my flat? I need to change my clothes and grab a few things.”

  “I think so. We have to be at the heliport in an hour. A copter will fly us to the RAF base in Suffolk where we’ll hitch a ride on a C-17. Just don’t take too long. Quinn and I need to grab our stuff from the hotel, too.”

  Ben winked at Quinn and said, “Hang on, James. Are you saying we don’t have time to box up all my books and bring them with us? I’m not sure I’m okay with that.”

  Quinn grinned while James huffed a breath in feigned exasperation. “You librarians are all alike.”

  They stepped off the escalator and walked toward the platform. Quinn slipped her arm around James’s waist and said, “If you mean we’re all kickass, then yeah, we are.”

  He hugged her to his side and kissed her head. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Quinn took another sip of tepid coffee. It tasted awful, but it was caffeinated, which was all that mattered. She’d grabbed a few hours of sleep during their flight, using James’s shoulder as a pillow, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Her eyes were dry and gritty.

  She sat across the table from Aldous Meyers in a conference room inside CIA headquarters and watched him jot another note on his yellow legal pad. When he finished, he looked up at her. His eyes were as red as hers. It was little wonder, given her debriefing had begun at 4:00 A.M.

  “Were you planning on helping Fitzhugh decipher the locations of the missiles?”

  “Not if I could help it. James warned me Fitzhugh wouldn’t let us go once he knew. Plus, my idea was to feed him enough hints for him to eventually figure it out, but have him take long enough that you could locate the missiles and put each installation under surveillance until Fitzhugh showed up at one. Then you could take him into custody for unauthorized possession of nuclear material.” She shrugged. “Or whatever laws he’d be breaking.”

  “Catch him in the act as it were.”

  “Right. But since I shot him, the point might be moot.” Her gaze dropped to the scrawl-covered pad. “He’s not, um, dead, is he?”

  “No. Our sources indicate he’s recovering from surgery and is in good condition. He told the local constabulary you and James invaded his home to rob him and shot him in the process.”

  Fitzhugh had shot at her, so her returning fire was justified. Still, she was relieved to know she hadn’t killed him. She gave him a rueful smile. “Sorry I mucked up the plan.”

  He waved off her apology. “You did what you had to do. And you didn’t muck it up. It may push back the time line a bit, but it gives us that much more time to implement your plan.”

  Her plan.

  Meyers glanced down at his notepad. “I think we’ve covered everything.” Looking at her again, he asked, “Are there any other details about Fitzhugh, his people, or home you’d like to add?”

  “Not at the moment, other than he had a pretty cool library. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

  “Fine. You have my e-mail.” He screwed the cap on his pen and set it on the notepad. “You are not to discuss any of this with anyone, not even your immediate family—your parents, your brothers, no one. No one can know the true nature of James’s occupation, what his business was in Los Angeles, or the events in London. The nondisclosure agreement you signed remains in effect in perpetuity.”

  “I understand. I won’t say a word to anyone.” Then it hit her. Her adventure had come to an end. She couldn’t even contemplate what that meant for her and James’s budding relationship. She swallowed down her swelling sadness and said, “I guess it’s time for me to go home.” The thumb of one hand rubbed into the palm of the other. “I don’t want to sound presumptuous, but you think you could get me a ride the rest of the way?”

  “We already have seats on a commercial flight booked for you and your escort. It’s scheduled to leave for LAX in a couple of hours.”

  Her heart fluttered in her chest. “My escort?”

  “With Fitzhugh and his people still at large, there remains the risk they could come after you. A twenty-four/seven security detail is in place for your protection until the matter is resolved.”

  “Oh, right. Okay.” Her pulse quickened. “Will James be a member of my detail?”

  “Jurisdictional considerations dictate your protection be carried out by the FBI.”

  The attempt to hide her disappointment with a smil
e was a complete failure. “Thank you for looking out for my safety.”

  “It’s the least we can do.” Meyers stood and tucked the notepad under his arm. “James will escort you from the building and hand you off to the FBI. There are special agents waiting to drive you to the airport.”

  She rose from her chair and slipped on the oversized coat she’d borrowed from Ben’s closet before they left London. “Great. Thank you,” she said and shook the hand he offered.

  “You’re welcome.” He released her hand and opened the door. “Anderson, you’re up,” he said to James waiting in the corridor. Meyers turned and walked down the hall.

  James was at her side in a flash. “How’d it go?”

  “Fine. Told him everything I knew. He admonished me to keep my mouth shut about this in perpetuity.” She lifted a shoulder. “About what I expected.”

  “Good. I’m glad it wasn’t so bad.” They left the conference room and as they walked the corridor, James took her hand and laced their fingers together. “And now I have the honor of walking you out.” His tone was cheery and his smile encouraging. But they couldn’t mask the sadness lurking behind his eyes. “Just so you know, I volunteered to escort you to L.A. and be a part of your security team.” He breathed a quiet laugh. “Actually, I requested to be your full-time bodyguard.”

  She smiled.

  “But they denied my request because of—”

  “Jurisdictional considerations,” she finished for him.

  “Yeah. And I need to be here and work on bringing Fitzhugh down.”

  “I understand. I have to get back to work, too.”

  They turned the corner and walked to security. Once her bag was scanned, she signed out and turned in her visitor badge. As they walked through the empty lobby, Quinn glanced at the Memorial Wall where stars were carved in the marble honoring agency employees who died in the line of service. One of those stars was for Claire. She felt a profound sense of respect for the woman who gave her life serving her country. At the same time, her heart ached for those, James included, who grieved her loss. On the chance he, too, was thinking of his fallen partner, she squeezed his hand. Together, they walked across the iconic CIA seal inlayed in the floor and out the door.