Reach For the Spy

by Diane Henders

  I clutched his arm. “But what about your agent? What if...”

  “Oh!” He smiled suddenly. “I meant to tell you, and then all this happened. We retrieved the agent. He’s going to be okay.”

  I slumped back against the pillow. “Oh, thank God!” The relief was so intense I had to turn away for a second to blink back tears. “That’s so good. Thank God.”

  “No, thank you,” Kane corrected. “If you hadn’t decrypted that document, we wouldn’t have gotten there in time. You saved him.”

  I squeezed his hand. “We saved him.”

  Dr. Roth cleared her throat from the foot of the bed, and I realized Kane and I were holding hands and beaming at each other. I resisted the urge to snatch my hand back like a guilty child, and casually let go as I turned to her.

  “Can I leave now?”

  “Yes. The MRI came back fine. You don’t seem to have suffered any ill effects. But take it easy for the rest of the day, and don’t drive or operate dangerous equipment for twenty-four hours. You’re considered legally impaired until then.”

  “This is why I didn’t want the sedative,” I growled.

  She shrugged, unfazed. “The wellbeing of my patients comes before their convenience. You might not have wanted the sedative, but you needed it.”

  “Hmmph.”

  The doctor turned to Kane with a smile. “Get this grumpy patient out of here.”

  “With pleasure,” he agreed.

  Chapter 21

  They both withdrew while I got dressed. When I pulled the curtain aside, Kane was waiting with a wheelchair.

  “Aw, come on, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I complained. “I’ll walk. Never mind the wheelchair.”

  “You have two choices,” Kane said severely. “You can sit in the wheelchair like a good little patient, or I can carry you out. Which would you prefer?”

  “Now you’re just showing off,” I ribbed him.

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “No, I’ll behave.”

  I sat in the wheelchair, feeling foolish while he wheeled me to the hospital doors. On the sidewalk, he deftly manoeuvred the chair into a shady spot and locked the brakes.

  “I’ll go and get the Expedition,” he said. “I’ll pick you up from here.”

  “I can walk to the parking lot,” I protested.

  “Or I could carry you.”

  “All right, all right,” I grumbled as he strode away, grinning.

  The warm fresh breeze wrapped gently around me and I let my eyes drift closed. I eased back in the chair, moving carefully against the painful bruise.

  “Aydan!”

  My eyes flew open and I jerked upright with an involuntary grunt of pain as I clutched my chest.

  Tom squatted down beside my chair, looking into my face with horrified eyes. “Aydan, what happened? What...” His eyes narrowed as he surveyed my face. “He beat you. That lousy dirtbag was beating you last night, wasn’t he? That was you screaming. I’m going to find him and kick his sorry butt from here to-”

  “Tom,” I interrupted. “Stop. Nobody was beating me.”

  “Aydan.” He placed his hand against my cheek, his callused palm barely touching my skin. “You have a huge red handprint across your face. A handprint that’s bigger than my hand. And I have big hands.”

  “Oh.”

  Shit.

  I went for damage control. “Tom, it’s not what it looks like. I swear to you, Arnie never hit me.”

  “Then who did?” His face was hard with anger, his normally sky-blue eyes the colour of arctic ice. “Tell me, Aydan. You’re not doing anyone any favours by protecting him.”

  I sighed. My brain waded sluggishly through the remains of the sedative. “It wasn’t... I was at work, and I fainted. Kane was trying to wake me by patting my face.”

  “Kane? John Kane? The guy who showed up in your driveway and commanded you to come with him like he owned you? That’s a heck of a pat.”

  I sighed again and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus. “It only looks bad. I have very sensitive skin, and the slightest touch makes it go red. In a couple of hours, you’ll never know there was ever a mark on my face. Here, I’ll show you.”

  I turned my wrist up and scraped my fingernails across it. The scratches turned white before blooming into livid red a few seconds later.

  “See? I barely touched the skin.” I held my wrist up for his inspection.

  He frowned, obviously unconvinced. “When I startled you, you flinched like it hurt you. Do you have an explanation for that, too?”

  I was saved from replying when the Expedition pulled up at the curb. Kane got out and came around to stand beside me. Tom rose from his crouch beside the wheelchair and stood to his full height, only a couple of inches shorter than Kane. The two men locked eyes.

  “Do you care to explain this?” Tom inquired mildly, gesturing toward my face. His tone reminded me of the way his soft denim shirt had felt over those lean, hard muscles. Only soft on the surface.

  Kane’s posture stayed relaxed, though I knew he’d caught the subtle threat. His eyes flicked to me, and I gave him a tiny nod.

  He met Tom’s gaze squarely. “Aydan collapsed at work. I was trying to revive her. I guess I was more scared than I realized, and I patted her face harder than I intended to. I feel terrible about this.”

  Tom held his eyes for a few seconds longer, and Kane returned his look levelly.

  “What else did you do?” Tom asked in the same quiet voice. “Why is she moving like somebody’s beaten her up?”

  “Probably because she’s badly bruised. Her heart stopped, and I had to give her CPR.”

  “What?” Tom swung a worried gaze back to me. “Your heart just stopped?”

  “No,” Kane lied smoothly. “She got an electrical shock, enough to stop her heart for a few seconds. She’s been fully checked out, and she’ll be fine. We have to go now. She’s been sedated, and I have to get her home.”

  I let my eyes drift closed again and swayed a little.

  “Do you need help?” Tom asked.

  “No, that’s fine, I can manage,” Kane replied.

  He helped me into the Expedition and buckled me in, and then closed the door and went around to the driver’s side. I slumped against the door and lifted a listless hand to Tom as we drove away.

  When we turned the corner, I straightened and scrubbed my hands over my face, wincing at the ache in my cheek. “Dammit. He’s becoming a serious problem.”

  “I had a feeling there was more to this than you were telling me. Fill me in,” Kane commanded.

  I sighed and slouched back in the seat. “Tom seems to think I have a habit of getting into abusive relationships. And being the nice guy that he is, he’s decided that I need rescuing. And in the process, he’s going to get himself caught in the crossfire. Dammit.”

  “Why would he think you have abusive relationships?”

  “Well, first that damn cover story from March came back and bit me. Small town; rumours; you know. So he thinks I have an abusive ex-husband for starters.”

  Kane shrugged. “That should be old news.”

  “Yeah, it should have been. Except he also thinks that Hellhound’s beating me. And now you.”

  Kane’s gaze bored into me. “Why would he think Hellhound is beating you?”

  I sighed again and stared out the window. “Bad timing, that’s all. Last weekend when Arnie and I were standing in the driveway, Tom came over. He just happened to show up when we were horsing around, and he got the wrong impression.”

  “What exactly happened?”

  At the sound of his carefully controlled cop voice, I glanced over to see his impassive cop profile. Shit.

  “We were just joking around, but from a distance I guess it would have looked like I was mad. I had my hands on my hips, and then I yelled and smacked Arnie, and he grabbed me.”

  “That’s pretty hard to misinterpret,” Ka
ne said dangerously. “What did he do to you?”

  I threw up my hands. “Jeez! You’re his best friend, and you’re still misinterpreting it.”

  “Then enlighten me.” The steering wheel creaked faintly under his grip.

  “Hellhound saw Tom coming across the yard, and he was bugging me about making time with cowboys. And then he made some comment about how maybe I should think about settling down with somebody. You know how I feel about that.”

  “I don’t, actually.” His voice was neutral.

  “Oh. Well, I have no intention of having any kind of committed relationship in the foreseeable future. Arnie knows that damn well. And I know he feels the same way, so I put my hands on my hips and asked him if he was proposing.”

  A snort of laughter escaped Kane, and I grinned. “That was the first time I’ve ever seen him scared. It was funny as hell.”

  “I would have paid good money to see that,” Kane agreed. “So then what happened?”

  “Well, then Hellhound started teasing me. Asking me if I was going to settle down and get attached. That’s when I smacked him and yelled ‘no’. Tom arrived just then and completely got the wrong idea.”

  When I looked over I saw with relief that the cop face was gone. “So what do you plan to do about Rossburn?” he asked.

  I tugged a couple of fistfuls of hair. “I don’t have a clue. I already told him plainly that I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him.”

  “You did?”

  I glanced over at his unreadable expression. “Well, yeah, of course. In the first place, I don’t want a relationship at all. In the second place, even if I did want one, it would be far too complicated and dangerous to have one with him. There’s just too much about my life that can’t be explained right now. And hell, Stemp made it abundantly clear that anybody who’s close to me is at risk. I’d feel terrible if something happened to Tom because of me.”

  Kane braked at my gate, and I got out to open it before he could protest. A scrap of paper was pushed through the shackle of the lock, and I unfolded it while I stood waiting for Kane to drive through the gate.

  ‘Sorry I missed you. Call me when you got a couple minutes.’ I recognized Hellhound’s scrawl.

  “You promised you could do it in less than two minutes, buddy,” I muttered, grinning.

  I stuffed the paper into my pocket and got back into the truck. Kane glanced over. “What was that?”

  “Just a note. I missed a visitor.”

  “Mm. So do you want any help dealing with Rossburn?”

  “No, not at the moment. I don’t know what you could do anyway. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”

  He parked in front of the house. “Do you want a hand getting into the house?”

  “No, I’m fine.” I reached for the door handle.

  “Aydan? Take it easy this weekend. Get some sleep.”

  “I will. Assuming my nocturnal callers let me. Maybe I’ll sleep outside.”

  He eyed me doubtfully. “Are you serious?”

  “Possibly. Depends on whether I get any more calls like last night.”

  “You shouldn’t...” He stopped and blew out a breath. “Carry your phone with you if you do.”

  “I will.”

  Chapter 22

  I dragged myself into the hot house and opened all the windows. The outside temperature wasn’t much cooler, but at least a breeze blew through. I flopped down on the sofa to think. What the hell was I going to do about Tom?

  I jerked awake when the phone rang and squinted at my watch as I stumbled toward the noise. Seven o’clock. I must have been more tired than I’d realized.

  I didn’t recognize the number on the call display, and I picked up the receiver with trepidation. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Aydan!” The sound of Lola’s throaty voice made me smile.

  “Hi, Lola, what’s up?”

  “Girls’ night out is what’s up. I’m getting a bunch of the girls together, and thought you might like to join us. Are you free tomorrow night?”

  I was pleased and flattered that she’d ask me, but the thought of going out made my head ache. All I wanted to do was stay home and hibernate.

  “Thanks, Lola, that’s nice of you to ask. But I haven’t been feeling well lately, and I think I’ll just stay home and rest.”

  “I thought you were looking a little peaked on Tuesday,” she said. “A little pick-me-up would do you good.”

  “You’re probably right. But right now, what I want more than anything is a decent night’s sleep.”

  “Well, I hope you feel better in the morning, then. Give me a call if you change your mind, honey.”

  “Thanks, Lola, I will.”

  I hung up the phone smiling. I was so lucky to have such nice clients. I headed for the kitchen in search of supper, feeling better about life in general.

  I was just about to haul my full belly out to the garden for a therapeutic weeding session when the phone rang again. I picked up hesitantly, not recognizing the number.

  “Hi, Aydan, how are you feeling?” Tom’s voice. Shit.

  “Fine, thanks, Tom. How’s your horse? I forgot to ask you this afternoon.”

  “Oh, he’s fine. The grandkids fed him a bunch of green apples yesterday, that’s all.”

  “You have grandkids?”

  “Emily is three, and Jackson is four and a half. My son Cory and his wife are out from the city for a holiday.”

  “Well, that should keep you hopping.”

  He laughed. “That’s for sure. Actually, that’s part of the reason why I’m calling. Every year around this time, Cory brings the family out, and my folks and I get together and invite all the neighbours over for a potluck. I wondered if you’d like to come tomorrow night.”

  “Um.”

  I thought furiously. Any other time, I would have appreciated the neighbourly invitation. If things had been different, I might have even appreciated the neighbour himself. In more ways than one. I shook my head and refocused.

  “Thanks, Tom, I really appreciate the invitation. Ordinarily, I’d love to, but I’m busy tomorrow night,” I lied uncomfortably.

  “Oh, what are you up to? You could come by for a little while before or after if you wanted. People come and go all evening.”

  Nnngh! I grasped at the first straw that came to mind. “I’m doing a girls’ night out with some friends. It sounds like it’s going to take up most of the evening. Sorry about that.”

  “That’s okay, I should have asked you sooner. Have a good time, then.”

  “Thanks. You, too.”

  I hung up and groaned. Lies always come back to bite me in the ass.

  There was no help for it. I called Lola and told her I’d be there.

  After a pleasant evening outside, I crept into bed early. For the first time in days, my muscles weren’t vibrating with tension. I eased myself into a comfortable position that didn’t hurt my bruised chest, and fell asleep.

  Until the phone rang. At two A.M.

  I pried open gummy eyes to peer at the call display. Private caller.

  “Hello?”

  “How much for a blowjob?”

  “Blow yourself. Or get your mother to do it for you. She’s probably good at it.” I slammed the phone down. It immediately rang again, and I ignored it.

  “Fuck this,” I said out loud for the benefit of the bugs. “I’ll sleep in the fucking garage.”

  I got dressed and gathered up my pillow, sleeping bag, and ancient air mattress, stuffing my cell phone in my pocket. In the garage I made a cozy nest in the corner of the smooth concrete floor. Soothed by the happy smells of engine oil and warm rubber, I drifted off almost immediately.

  I woke once when I rapped my knuckles sharply against the wall in the throes of a violent nightmare, but I managed to get back to sleep again. When I finally opened my eyes, the garage was bright with the beams of the mid-morning sun.

  I rolled over slowly and stretched. That was the
best sleep I’d had in a week. I yawned my way into the house and headed for the bathroom. The phone rang again as I stepped out of the shower, and I ignored it. I hadn’t been screaming. No need to pick up.

  It rang twice more while I sat at the breakfast table. I saw ‘private caller’ on the display, and resisted the urge to answer the phone and make the caller’s ear bleed. Instead, I took a deep breath and wandered out to my beloved garden again.

  After a pleasant day of solitude outside, I faced the prospect of an evening out with moderate good humour, even though I was going to have to make an attempt to dress up a bit. I wasn’t sure what girls’ night out involved, exactly, but I probably needed to be wearing something better than a sweat-stained T-shirt and baggy, dirt-encrusted jeans.

  As I changed my clothes, I remembered my car was still in Silverside, parked at Sirius Dynamics. I debated for a few seconds, and then grinned and headed for the garage.

  A few minutes later I fired up my ’66 Corvette convertible and let its throaty rumble carry me down the road. On the highway, I nobly resisted the urge to let my horses run. The warm wind lifted my hair and the heavy vibration of the big 427 soothed my body like a massaging chair.

  When I drove into Silverside, the single stoplight turned red at my approach. As usual.

  I pulled to a stop and let the ‘Vette wind down into a lolloping idle. The car shuddered with suppressed power while the lumpy cam churned out its brute-force rhythm, and I beamed with the pure joy that only excessive horsepower can bring.

  A movement caught my eye, and I glanced over to see a tall, broad-shouldered figure astride a black BMW K1300R pull up beside me at the light. Teeth gleamed behind his helmet’s face shield as he revved his engine.

  I gave him a feral grin and goosed the accelerator. The big engine let out an equally feral roar. You wanna play, baby?

  We gunned our engines a couple more times, grinning at each other until the light changed. I knew I didn’t have a chance in hell of taking a motorcycle off the line, so I didn’t even try.