Spy Now, Pay Later

by Diane Henders

  I shook my head. “No. Which is weird, because I know he’s a computer expert. His toothbrush is here and there’s empty luggage in the closet, and Bud Weems says Stemp would have told him if he was planning to be gone for more than a day or two.”

  Holt’s scowl deepened. “This was a waste of time.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “I guess I’ll go have a chat with Bud. See if he noticed anything.” I picked up a couple of plants to carry to the living room.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Holt inquired mildly.

  “They’ll freeze if they’re too close to that broken window.”

  He shook his head. “Shit, Kelly, you’re soft.” Before I could retort, the corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “There’s a piece of plywood in the garage that looked big enough, and Mr. Anal-Retentive has his tools all hung up on pegboard. I’ll go get the stuff to cover the window.”

  When Holt returned bearing a hammer, nails, and plywood, I asked, “Do you have a secured phone on you? I used mine up calling Dermott about the RCMP, and my extras are in my car.”

  His face went blank. “Shit. No.” A flush climbed his neck and his jaw tightened. “I forgot to get them from Stores. What the hell kind of spook am I?”

  I shrugged. “You only had ten seconds to go from off-duty to active service.”

  “That’s no excuse. It was a stupid mistake.” The words grated out between his teeth. “A dangerous mistake.”

  “It’s not that big a deal. Cut yourself some slack.” I eyed his darkening scowl, hiding my anxiety behind a comforting tone. “You’d do the same for another agent if they were in your place.”

  His fist clenched on the hammer handle, his knuckles whitening. “No. I wouldn’t.” His words came out in a menacing growl. “I’d chew a fucking strip off their incompetent hide. Like I told you, I’m an asshole.”

  “Well, don’t be,” I snapped, and hurried outside just in case he decided to swing that hammer.

  When he didn’t come roaring out behind me, I pulled my personal cell phone out with trembling fingers and dialled the main office line at Sirius Dynamics.

  Dermott came on the line with gratifying speed after I’d navigated the receptionist.

  “What’s new?” he asked.

  “Nothing, but we’re going to talk to the neighbours.”

  A moment of silence greeted that announcement. When he spoke again, I couldn’t identify the undercurrent in his tone. “We’ve got news here.”

  Was that worry straining his voice? Excitement? Grief?

  My heart rate ratcheted up and I mentally cursed the unsecured line that prevented me from demanding details.

  “It is urgent?” The undercurrent in my voice was easy to identify. Fear, plain and simple.

  “No. Finish up there and then come in.”

  What the hell did that mean? It could mean anything from ‘Stemp just walked in and explained everything’ to ‘We just found Kane’s and Stemp’s bodies’.

  I swallowed a hard knot of dread. “Okay. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  As I disconnected, Holt emerged from the house, the hammer dangling loosely from his hand. Apparently the storm had passed. His brows drew together in concern. “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know.” My voice came out in a dry croak, and I cleared my throat before continuing, “They’ve got some new information at the office but Dermott says it’s not urgent. He said to finish up questioning the neighbours before we come in.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  I grimaced. “I wish I knew.”

  “Shit.” Holt squared his shoulders and drew in a breath. “Okay, give me a hand with this plywood and then we’ll canvass. You’ve got a rapport with Weems, so take your time with him. I’ll see what I can get from the rest of the neighbours.”

  A few minutes later I rang the doorbell of the blue and red house. The door popped open almost immediately.

  “Come in.” Bud’s anxious gaze searched my face. “Please, come in and sit down. Excuse me, I’ve got the kettle on, I just have to turn off the heat…” He hurried for the kitchen, and I seized the opportunity to slip off my parka and the bulletproof vest that would have been tricky for a bookkeeper to explain. Folding the vest inside my parka, I laid both on the scarred deacon’s bench beside the door and shed my boots.

  Not a moment too soon. Bud rounded the corner from the kitchen. “Did you…” His thready voice wavered into silence.

  “No, we didn’t find him,” I said.

  “Thank the good Lord.” His shoulders sagged with relief before he shook himself. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? Please sit down. Can I get you a cup of tea, Miss Kelly?” He beckoned me to the sofa.

  I sank onto it and kept sinking as the aged springs succumbed to my weight. “Thank you, that would be great. And please call me Aydan.”

  “Only if you’ll call me Bud.” The twinkle was back in his eye.

  I summoned up my best smile. “Sure, Bud. Thanks.”

  After considerable fussing with antique-looking bone china cups and a battered silver teapot, Bud finally settled in the overstuffed recliner across from me with a wheezing breath and leaned forward, clutching his tea. “Was everything in order over there?”

  I hesitated, and his cup clattered in its saucer.

  “Yes,” I said hurriedly. “I mean, it was in order when we got there…” I trailed off, guilt making it hard to meet his piercing gaze. “It’s a bit of a mess now… after the police searched it,” I mumbled, throwing Holt to the wolves with barely a qualm.

  “That young hoodlum made a mess, you mean,” Bud snapped. “I didn’t like the looks of him from the start.”

  “I think he’s just trying to do his job as efficiently as possible. His priority is finding Ste… Charles.” When I looked up to meet Bud’s gaze, guilt squeezed even harder. “If you want to leave the key with me, I’ll go back later and clean up,” I offered, fighting off despair at the thought of having to tidy Stemp’s place as well as my own. “I made sure the plants were all back in their pots and I carried them away from the broken window, so I hope they’ll be okay…”

  “Oh, now, don’t worry about that,” Bud interrupted. “I don’t have much to do these days. I’ll just go over and straighten up.”

  I tried to hide my breath of relief. “Thanks. Charles is lucky to have you for a neighbour.”

  I struggled out of the couch to lay the key and locking device on the table beside him, and he raised the teapot inquiringly.

  “Thanks, just a half-cup,” I agreed.

  When he had finished pouring I resumed my seat and sipped before asking, “So have you known Charles long?”

  “’Bout seven years, ever since he moved in across the street.” Bud grinned. “I remember it like it was yesterday. This proper-looking young buck in a suit and tie, gimping around giving orders to these two dirty old hippies moving stuff into the house. I was sure hoping it was him and not them moving in.” He laughed. “Found out later they were his folks, and they’re nice as can be. Odd ducks, mind you, but fine people. Charlie’d been in a car accident, so he couldn’t lift anything or do much for a while. I offered to help out after his folks went home, and that’s how we met.”

  He waved a self-deprecating hand at his emaciated body. “I was in better shape then. Now Charlie’s the one that helps me.”

  “So you spend quite a bit of time together,” I prompted.

  “Heck, not that much. We play cribbage a couple nights a week; wave hello across the street; that’s about it.”

  “But he’d tell you if he was going somewhere.”

  Bud’s wrinkles creased into a frown and he passed a hand over his age-spotted bald head. “Not unless he was going away for a few days.” His frown deepened. “Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit getting the police involved this early? A young buck like him might just be…”

  He hesitated. “Sorry, ma’am… uh, Aydan… I don’t mean to be crude, but mayb
e he’s just, er, keeping company with a young lady…”

  I shook my head. “I doubt it. He…” I rapidly considered and discarded several choices of words. “…had an important meeting this morning,” I continued. “It wouldn’t be like him to miss it without calling in.”

  A gloomy silence descended, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the bookshelf.

  I sipped my cooling tea, every tick-tock winding my nerves tighter with the knowledge that Kane’s minutes might be slipping away. Assuming he wasn’t dead already…

  The sound of the doorbell made me start. Bud levered himself out of the recliner and shuffled toward the door.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Bud’s disapproval was evident in the three words. He poked his head into the living room to address me. “Sonny-boy’s here.”

  I set aside my teacup and struggled out of the man-eating sofa again. When I rounded the corner, Holt was wearing his neutral cop face.

  “I’m finished with the neighbours,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

  I nodded and turned to Bud. “Thank you for the tea. May I call you if I have more questions?”

  “Sure, of course. I’ll do anything I can to help. I’m in the phone book. I’m the only Weems left in Silverside now.” He hesitated. “You’ll let me know? If you… find out anything?”

  “Of course. Oh, and here’s my card…” I handed him one of my bookkeeping cards before putting on my boots and tucking my rolled-up parka under my arm. “Please call me any time of the day or night if you hear from him or see any activity around his house.”

  Bud nodded and we left him standing in his doorway, eyeing Stemp’s house with a troubled expression.

  By the time we got to Holt’s car halfway down the block, my teeth were chattering. I buckled into the passenger’s seat and wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.

  Holt shot me a look as he put the car into gear. “Why the hell don’t you put on your jacket?”

  “I’ve got the bulletproof vest rolled up in it. I didn’t want to blow my cover as a bookkeeper.”

  Holt grimaced understanding and cranked up the heater fan. “So did you get anything from the old fart?”

  “No… I don’t think so.” I nearly added, ‘…and watch your mouth, Sonny-boy’, but I bit my tongue in time. Don’t poke the bear.

  “How about you?” I asked instead.

  “Nothing. Standard serial-killer stuff.” When I gaped at him, he elaborated, “You know. Quiet, keeps to himself, never causes any trouble…”

  “Right.” I sighed and hunched deeper in the seat. “God, I hope it’s not bad news at Sirius. Can you drive any faster?”

  Chapter 31

  When I signed for my fob at the Sirius security desk, it wasn’t the cold that made my hands tremble. The stairs to Dermott’s second-floor office seemed interminable, but when I reached the top I wished they’d been longer. My reluctant feet dragged on the carpet and I avoided Holt’s gaze while he paced down the hall beside me.

  Until I actually entered Dermott’s office, I could pretend everything was fine. Kane would be there. Stemp would be there. Everybody would be laughing over the misunderstanding…

  No laughter greeted me when I tapped on the open door.

  Dermott looked up from his computer, scowling. “Anything?”

  “No.” Holt sounded frustrated. I just shook my head, my throat too dry to speak.

  Dermott picked up the phone and punched an extension. After a moment, he spoke. “They’re back.” He hung up the phone and stood, jerking his chin in the direction we’d come. “Meeting room. Webb will be there in a few minutes.”

  We trailed down the hallway and took our seats in the meeting room in silence. Dermott had just opened his mouth to speak when Spider hurried in, clutching his laptop like a shield. He dropped into a chair as if his knees had collapsed and eyed us worriedly. “Did you find anything?”

  Holt shook his head.

  I couldn’t bear to wait any longer. I turned to Dermott. “What’s the new development?”

  Dermott looked as though he was chewing something unpleasant. “When I escalated this up the chain of command to get the search warrant, they gave me some more information.” He surged to his feet as if unable to sit still and strode over to close the meeting room door.

  “What is it?” I tried to keep the impatience out of my voice, but only half succeeded. My pulse hammered in my throat as Dermott scowled.

  “Seems they knew about Stemp’s alias of George Harrison. And they gave him approval to take the weapon.”

  “What?” Spider’s mouth dropped open. “They knew?”

  “Yeah.” Dermott’s mouth twisted. “Fucking nice of them to tell us.”

  “So we shouldn’t have been searching his house at all…” I trailed off at Dermott’s scowl.

  “Oh, hell yeah, we should.” He returned to drop into his chair again. “Apparently Kane did call in last night…” He made a ‘go-figure’ gesture before continuing, “…and said he had an informant who had reactivated after years of silence. Kane thought he could get some back-door information about the origin of the weapon, but he’d need to show the weapon to somebody. He didn’t say who.”

  I leaned forward in my chair, my interlaced fingers going cold when the blood squeezed out of them.

  “So Stemp reactivated an old cover identity from his last op seven years ago,” Dermott continued, his words grating through clenched teeth. “George Harrison. And he got clearance from the chain of command to take the weapon to a meeting place at eleven-thirty last night. He was supposed to return it immediately after their meeting. Instead, he remotely accessed the security database, erased George Harrison, and buggered off with the weapon.”

  “But… but…” I bit off my pointless objections and stared at Dermott. “So what now?”

  Dermott shrugged as if a great weight lay on his shoulders. “Now we find Stemp. And Kane. Find out if they colluded to steal the weapon; find out who their contact was for the meeting or if they had a contact at all; get that fucking weapon back; and drag their fucking traitorous asses to jail. Kelly, you know Kane best, so you’re in charge of this investigation. Webb, let Brock take over the decryption program temporarily while you support Kelly. Holt, you’re full-time with Kelly. I’ve gotten clearance for all of you to access personnel and mission files for Stemp and Kane. I…” He rose and made a frustrated gesture. “I’ll be finding out what else Stemp didn’t tell us about all the other ops.”

  My nervousness swelled into dismay. “But… um, where should I start?” The dismay trickled into outright dread. “And what should I tell Sharkf… Barnett?”

  Dermott shrugged, already halfway out the door. “Your op, Kelly. Let me know what you decide.”

  I sat paralyzed by the mocking echo of my earlier words to Kane and Hellhound. My op; my orders.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “So what’s the plan?” Holt demanded.

  “I… um… hang on a sec…” I sank my chin to my chest and churned my fingers in my hair.

  Should I just hand the whole thing over to Holt? He was an experienced agent. He’d know what to do, or at least where to start.

  But he hated Stemp. And his self-control was precarious at best. And dammit, even if I wasn’t sure about Stemp, I was positive about Kane. There was no way he was a traitor. If Holt railroaded them, or worse, shot them in a fit of rage…

  No, dammit, I had to keep Holt under control.

  And there had to be an explanation for all this…

  I emerged from the cover of my hair to meet Spider’s anxious eyes. “Spider, can you bring up the records for Stemp’s last op before he retired from active service? Or wait; any op where he used the alias of George Harrison?”

  Spider nodded and dove into his laptop. I watched his rapid typing for a moment before adding, “And are there audio records of Kane’s and Stemp’s calls on the secured phones last night?”

  “Yes,” Spider mumbled, still
typing with his gaze riveted to the screen. “Hang on…”

  “Oh, and if we could find any of Kane’s old ops where he had an informer… and track his personal cell phone…”

  “Okay, hang on…”

  I shut up and let Spider work, my mind racing as fast as his flying fingers. If we could identify Kane’s informant, we might be able to backtrack to figure out who they had been meeting about the weapon. If something had gone wrong at the meeting and they’d been captured…

  But no, that didn’t make sense. Stemp had accessed the security database after the meeting. He wouldn’t have been able to do that if he was a captive.

  Unless they had forced him.

  My mind shuddered away from the level of coercion that would be necessary to crack Stemp’s icy control. I couldn’t imagine him breaking, even under torture…

  Shit.

  I fell back in my chair, staring wide-eyed at the wall.

  The timeframe was too tight. They couldn’t have captured him and tortured him into submission in a mere twenty minutes. They had to have some other leverage.

  Like the little daughter who meant so much to him…

  “What?” Holt’s voice cut into the cold horror that gripped me. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  “I…” My voice came out in a dry croak. “I hope I didn’t.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  I was saved from answering when Spider spoke. “Okay, I’ve pulled the mission reports. I’m sending copies to your network accounts now. Kane’s personal cell phone matches the GPS coordinates for his house, so it looks like he left it at home. And here’s the audio from Kane’s call last night…”

  He pressed a key and Kane’s strong baritone spoke from the laptop. “It’s Kane. Dawn White has resurfaced. She has connections with a weapons expert who should be able to identify the maker of the weapon. She’s set up a meeting so I can show it to him. What do you think?”

  Stemp’s cool tones responded. “How much do you trust her?”

  “Not at all. But the information from the weapons expert… I’d say ninety percent.”