Spy Now, Pay Later

by Diane Henders

  I squeezed my eyes shut again, thinking out loud. “Shit. If it’s your starter it’ll take days before the garage can get a new one in. Don’t worry, I’ll come and get you and drive you down-”

  “No, that’s too much trouble,” he protested. “I’ll take my chances with the truck. I hate to bother you at all, but…” I sensed his embarrassed shrug at the other end of the line.

  “Carl, you saved me from a fiery plane crash less than forty-eight hours ago. This is the least I can do, and it’s no trouble at all. I was going down to meet friends for brunch anyway, so I’ll just go a little earlier and drop you wherever you need to go. Then you can rent a car while you’re there.”

  “Oh.” His breath of relief floated over the line. “Thank you. That would be great.”

  “Okay, good. I’ll be waiting in front of the hotel by…” I did a rapid mental calculation. “…eight-thirty.”

  “Thanks!”

  We said our goodbyes and I hung up slowly. Germain was the most laid-back agent I knew. Dodging bullets or landing a burning 737, his easy calm never faltered.

  So what could possibly make him sound this anxious?

  Chapter 2

  I dragged my complaining self out of bed for the second time to dress and sleepwalk to the kitchen. When another phone call interrupted my tea and toast, I glared at the clock and mumbled a peanut-butter-muffled epithet.

  Gulping my mouthful, I eyed the unfamiliar number on the call display and let it go to voice mail. A few moments later, a crisp voice emanated from the answering machine. “Hello, Ms. Widdenback, this is Earl Anderson. I’m the investigator from the Transportation Safety Board-”

  Shit, did these guys normally work every day of the year, or was he on Fuzzy Bunny’s payroll? Either way, with an active bug in the room, I couldn’t ignore the call.

  I snatched up the receiver. “H’lo?” I cleared a patch of peanut butter from the roof of my mouth and tried again. “Hi, sorry, this is Arlene. You caught me in the middle of breakfast.”

  “Hello, Ms. Widdenback, I was hoping you’d have time to clarify a few points in the report you provided at the hospital yesterday. I’m sorry to bother you so early on Christmas morning, but you said you were a morning person…”

  Damn, I had to stop telling people that.

  “No, it’s fine, I was up…” My mouth kept talking while I mentally reviewed the cover story Kane and I had agreed on. “…I have to leave in ten minutes, but if I can answer a few quick questions, I’ll be happy to.”

  That was pure bullshit. I wasn’t happy about it at all. But he didn’t need to know that, and neither did Fuzzy Bunny.

  “Oh, good, I won’t take too much of your time. Would you please walk me through what happened again?”

  “I… can’t really remember it very well,” I prevaricated. “It was such a… I was in shock, you know?”

  “Perfectly understandable. Just do your best.” He sounded patient and reassuring, and I wondered how many times he’d had to coax reports out of terrified people.

  Uncomfortably aware of the invisible audience behind the bug, I swallowed. “Okay… Um… I was just sitting there reading-”

  “I’m sorry, sitting where?” he interrupted.

  “Oh. In the sitting room. The second cabin from the front. I smelled smoke, and when I looked up, Thomas…” My voice wavered and I stopped to steady it before continuing. “…the cabin steward… was doing something at the counter. I couldn’t really see, but something must have been hot because the next thing I knew a bottle fell over and then there was fire everywhere…”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, reliving the moment when my plan had gone so horribly wrong.

  “What bottle? Where was the bottle that fell over?” He still sounded patient, but there was a keen note in his voice that hadn’t been there before. Damn, maybe I hadn’t mentioned the bottle earlier.

  I pulled myself back from the memory and dropped into a chair, clutching the phone like an anchor. “It was a bottle of brandy. Sitting on the counter. There was a lot of turbulence. It must have fallen over…”

  Dammit, if Thomas had still been alive, he never would have let that happen. He had been so smart and professional. My throat tightened at the memory of his handsome young face and sparkling smile slackening into death.

  “…I think one of the passengers put it on the counter. There was a problem with the guy in the back.” My voice came out husky, and I cleared my throat.

  That part was true. The next part, not so much…

  “The guy was drunk,” I went on. “He’d been drinking brandy, and Thomas was cooking something for him just to keep him happy while we landed. Thomas tried to get him to go back to his seat, but he argued and then he shoved Thomas…”

  “Do you know the man’s name? Can you describe him?”

  “Um… he was sitting in the rear cabin so I didn’t pay much attention to him.” At least not until his hands went for my throat. “Maybe, um, five-foot-ten, kind of heavyset? Brown hair…” I trailed off.

  “So there was a physical altercation and the bottle fell over. Then what happened?” The investigator sounded as though he had all day.

  I shot an anxious glance at my watch. If I didn’t leave in few minutes, I’d be late. Then Germain would be late for whatever critical thing had him so edgy. Dammit.

  “It broke.” I squeezed my eyes shut and reeled off my lies and half-truths. “The brandy caught fire and went everywhere. Thomas used a fire extinguisher on it and the fire was almost out, but the other guy was yelling and freaking out and the drink cart fell over and broke a bunch more bottles and then the alcohol from it caught fire and then the wood panelling caught fire. Thomas pushed me to the back and put the breathing mask on me and told me to stay in the bedroom and keep the door shut. He was grabbing more fire extinguishers when I closed the door.”

  “And what about the other passengers?”

  Shit, I was pretty sure he hadn’t asked me that before.

  “Um… I don’t know. I didn’t really notice, with that big hood on my head and Thomas yelling and pushing me into the bedroom. I was so scared…”

  The story about Thomas was a bald-faced lie, but I didn’t have to fake the tremor in my voice. ‘Scared’ didn’t even come close to the terror I’d felt. Was still feeling. I swallowed hard and eased my sweaty grip on the phone.

  “Just take a moment if you need to,” Anderson said gently.

  I drew a deep breath. “Thanks. I’m sorry, but I have to go very soon. Was there anything else?”

  “Did you see another female passenger?”

  Yana Orlov, the bitch. May she roast in hell for killing Thomas.

  I kept my tone grave and concerned. “Yes, I think she was in the front cabin. But I didn’t see her after the fire started.”

  “And how did you come to be holding the cabin steward’s shoe?”

  Shit! I had forgotten about that, and Kane and I hadn’t discussed it when we were coordinating our cover stories at yesterday’s debriefing.

  “Um… I just…” My brain hurled out the most plausible reason I could manufacture on short notice. “I was so scared. In the bedroom by myself. I opened the door hoping they’d gotten the fire out, and he was… he was… lying there…”

  The nightmare struck again full force. The hungry jaws of the fire, the horrible constriction of the breathing mask’s seal around my throat…

  “I… I grabbed his legs and tried to pull him…”

  I wrapped my free arm around my shaking body. Thomas had been long dead by then. He hadn’t suffered, hadn’t felt the hungry flames consuming his flesh…

  “Just breathe for a minute. Nice and slow.” Anderson’s voice pulled me back to the warm safety of my kitchen.

  I drew a shuddering breath. “His shoe came off in my hands. He was… his upper body was on fire. I tried to put it out, but… I couldn’t… I guess I just hung onto the shoe…” My voice cracked and I gulped, fighting the memory, s
melling the smoke…

  …Clinging to the shoe thinking it was Kane’s. Believing I had killed him with a fire I’d started through my own stupidity…

  “I really have to go,” I croaked.

  “Of course. Thank you for your help, and I’m sorry to make you relive this again.”

  When he hung up, I threw my cold toast in the garbage and yanked on my boots and jacket, thankful I’d have Germain’s company for the drive. I really didn’t need another two hours inside my own head.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I apologized as Germain slid into the passenger seat. “The crash investigator phoned and I couldn’t get rid of him.”

  “It’s okay, if I’m a few minutes late it won’t matter.”

  I put the car in gear and shot him a worried glance, but he sounded sincere and I couldn’t detect any strain in his posture. Still, there was that tiny edge of tension in his voice.

  “It sounds important, though,” I prodded cautiously.

  He smiled, the attractive laugh lines crinkling around his brown eyes. “It is to me. This is one of the three times a year I get to see my kids.”

  “Your k…?” I gaped at him for a second before directing my attention back to the road. “I, um, I didn’t know you were a dad.”

  “I’m not a dad,” he replied quietly. “I’m a biological father. I only see Ryan and Tanya on Christmas and birthdays. They call me Uncle Carl.”

  “Why?” I blurted. “That’s…” I managed to contain myself. “Sorry. None of my business.”

  He blew out a long breath. “It’s okay. I know it’s a little weird. But that’s what the judge ruled.”

  “He said you couldn’t tell your kids you were their dad?”

  “She.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “No, she didn’t say that. She just assigned the visiting rights. But this is best for Ryan and Tanya. They weren’t old enough to remember me when Melanie and I split up, and we agreed it was better if I didn’t confuse them by claiming to be their dad when I only saw them three times a year.”

  “I don’t care if it’s only three times a year. Kids need to know they have a dad!”

  “They do have a dad. Melanie remarried right away.” He hesitated. “I guess they were probably seeing each other before we divorced. I was away a lot.” He scrubbed a hand through his short black curls, not looking at me. “Anyway. Derek’s an accountant. Nice guy. And Ryan and Tanya have a dad who comes home every night.”

  “But…” I knew I should drop it, but I just couldn’t. “They need to know. It’s not fair to them or to you.”

  “Melanie will tell them when they’re a little older. They’re only five and three. Right now, they have a stable family life and they love their dad. That’s the best thing I can do for them.”

  I clamped my teeth on my tongue and shut the hell up.

  After a moment, Germain went on as if to himself. “I should’ve listened to Kane. He told me I should get a desk job when Ryan was born. But no, I had to go and be a big hero for my country.”

  The bitterness in his voice made my heart twist for him. “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  Germain shrugged. “My fault. I should have been there for my family. I was undercover when Melanie filed for divorce and I didn’t even get the papers until weeks later. Then when the custody hearings came up, I was undercover again and couldn’t attend. The judge decided I was a schmuck, and it was all over.”

  He stared through the windshield. “She was right. I was a dumb schmuck.”

  “Carl, that’s not true. You’re doing a tough, dangerous job and you’ve sacrificed so much. You are a hero.”

  “Yeah, that keeps me warm at night.” He shook himself and turned to me, his usual smile restored. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump on you. And I really appreciate the ride. I can hardly wait. Melanie says the kids have been going absolutely crazy about Santa Claus. It’s going to be a great visit.”

  “Merry fucking Christmas,” I muttered to the steering wheel.

  “Sorry, what was that?”

  I shoved a smile onto my face and spoke a little louder. “I said it’ll be a very fun Christmas.”

  Driving away from the sprawling house in its upscale Calgary neighbourhood, I scowled at the sparse traffic. A lump had risen in my throat while I watched the little black-haired, brown-eyed boy in Batman jammies and the tiny girl in a pink spangled dress race out to dance around Germain, tugging him toward the house amid jubilant cries of ‘Uncle Carl, Uncle Carl!’

  His ex-wife and her husband smiled from the doorway, arms around each other, and as much as I wanted to hate his ex I couldn’t find any villains in the scene. They were all trying to do what was best for the kids.

  Dammit, that just sucked.

  The gloomy sky mirrored my mood and I pulled into the nearest park, hoping a bit of fresh air and exercise would cheer me up. When I stepped out of the car, a raw breeze cut through my parka directly to my bones. I blew out an irritable breath and frowned at my watch.

  Still an hour to kill before I was due at Nichele’s place.

  I squared my shoulders and started walking.

  Tapping on the door of the posh downtown condo an hour later, I braced myself for Nichele’s usual squeal and bear hug. Instead, my jaw dropped when the door swung open to reveal a distinguished-looking man in a suit and tie, his thick grizzled hair cropped close in a precise cut that flattered its waves.

  His faded blue eyes crinkled with his mischievous smile. “Hi, Aydan.”

  “Wha…?” I gaped at him, my mouth stretching into a widening grin. “Who the hell are you and what did you do with Dave?”

  He laughed, and I stepped forward to hug him. “Jeez, Dave, you look fantastic! You’ve lost a ton of weight! And are you the chairman of the board these days?”

  He returned the hug and patted me on the back before drawing me into the apartment. “Hel… heck, no, still the same old dumb trucker.” He waved a hand at his sartorial splendour. “This’s for Nichele. Part of her Christmas present.”

  “Aydan!”

  There was the squeal I’d been expecting.

  Nichele rocketed down the hall to throw her arms around me. “Girl, how the hell are you? It’s so great to see you!”

  “It’s great to see you, too!” I extricated myself from her embrace to examine the elegant gown that flattered her curvy figure. “Shit, you guys didn’t tell me this was a black-tie brunch!”

  Nichele giggled. “Like you would’ve dressed up. Not. But I didn’t know.” She gave Dave an adoring glance. “This is totally a surprise. And he still won’t tell me where we’re going, he just said to wear my best dress. And look at him!” She stepped over to cuddle up to Dave, stroking his lapels. “Armani. Mmmmm. There’s nothing sexier than a man in Armani.”

  Dave’s ears turned crimson but he grinned, sliding his arms around her. “You’re always going on about it, so I figured I better get some.”

  I laughed. “Hey, while you two are getting some, I’ll just go grab lunch somewhere else.”

  “Smartass!” Nichele released Dave and grinned at me. “Come on, I’ll get you a beer.”

  “Just one.” I followed her into the kitchen and accepted the icy bottle. “I have to drive in a couple of hours.”

  “No, you can stay as long as you…” Nichele broke off, eyeing us suspiciously. “Wait, did you cook this up with Dave?”

  “Nope, I’m as much in the dark as you,” I assured her. “All I know is Dave called me last week to let me know you guys have to leave at three-thirty.”

  “But…” Her smile faded. “You’re not coming with us? But this is our Christmas thing. You and me, hanging out on Christmas Day. It’s a tradition.”

  I shot a glance at Dave’s worried face.

  “And here we are, hanging out on Christmas Day.” I toasted her with the beer bottle. “But I’m bagged and I want to get back to Silverside tonight, so I was planning to leave while there was still a bit of daylight.”

 
; “Oh. Okay…” Nichele’s smile came back and she gave me a quick squeeze. “You do look tired. In fact, you look like hell, girl. For God’s sake get some sleep when you get home. You always work too hard.”

  “I look like hell because I’m starving. When do we eat?”

  She laughed, and the conversation turned to our usual banter.

  “Ah, that was great!” I eased back in the chair and massaged my belly. “But I can’t believe the two of you sat here all dolled up eating scrambled eggs and bacon and hash-brown casserole.”

  Nichele grinned. “You know that’s all I can cook. And Dave can barely boil water.”

  Dave shrugged. “Never needed to do anything else.” He winked at Nichele. “Know the best fast-food joints all through Canada and the States though.”

  She shook a reproving finger at him before shooting me a conspiratorial grin. “But he eats healthy when he’s on the road now. He’s a changed man.”

  “Right,” Dave agreed, deadpan.

  “And speaking of men…” Nichele turned an avid gaze on me. “Please tell me you’ve been getting busy with Hot John.”

  “Um.” I tried to will the heat away from my cheeks.

  “Gotta go.” Dave scrambled to his feet, his ears aflame. “Gotta check on… uh… something…” He backed away.

  “Wait, Dave, don’t go,” I implored. “We’re not having this conversation.”

  “Oh, yes, we are, girl,” Nichele assured me with a leer. “I know what that blush means! You did do him, didn’t you?”

  “Dave!” I begged, but he had already fled.

  Chapter 3

  I turned my best poker face toward Nichele and lied my ass off. “Of course I’m not sleeping with John. We’re co-workers. Strictly professional.”

  She eyed me quizzically. “So you’re still booty-calling Mister Ugly?”

  “Don’t call him that! It’s not his fault his waste-of-skin father broke half the bones in his face when he was five.”

  “Kidding.” She patted my hand, looking contrite. “He’s a nice guy. It’s just that he’s so u…” She broke off and tried again. “Does he prefer to be called Arnie or Hellhound?”