The Spy Is Cast

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The Spy Is Cast Page 6

by Diane Henders


  “Ostentatious means there’s somebody who just can’t wait to give the grand tour to somebody who’s suitably impressed. Is Harchman married?”

  Kane nodded. “Twenty years. His wife’s name is Maria. Not a happy marriage, from what we can determine. Seems he’s got a roving eye.”

  “Perfect. Either he or Maria will be looking for a bit of admiration for their property. If it’s him, I’ll suck up. If it’s her, you can.”

  Kane chuckled. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be the one doing the sucking up. Harchman likes to be known as a high roller. Classic attention-seeker. His wife keeps a low profile.”

  “It still might be smart for you to show some attention to Maria,” I said slowly. “If he’s that much of an asshole, she’d probably appreciate a little gallantry. That could get you in some doors. If Harchman’s hiding something, she might not know about it. She might let you in where he wouldn’t.”

  Kane looked thoughtful. “You’re right. That’s a good idea. We may not meet her at all, though. According to what we’ve been able to find out, she doesn’t often attend this type of affair.”

  “Okay. So, next question, how the heck am I supposed to wander through all these buildings looking for a network? I thought we were just going to a dinner party. If I zone out for a few seconds while I’m sitting in a chair, nobody will notice. But you know I fall down if I access the network when I’m standing.” I grimaced. “And now I have to balance on high heels at the same time.”

  We drove in silence for a few minutes while I racked my brain for an idea.

  “We need to agree on some sort of signal that you’re going to try to access the network,” Kane said. “You give me the signal, and I’ll make sure I’m holding you up. If you get in at all, it’ll only be for a second or two. You might not even have time to fall down.”

  “Well, it’s not perfect, but that’s probably about the best we can do,” I agreed. “What’s the signal?”

  “Put your arm around me and lean your head on my shoulder. That way if you go limp for a second, I can hold you up without being too obvious.”

  I sighed. “Okay. It’s a plan.”

  “I really don’t like this,” Kane grumbled. “I know it needs to be done, but I just hate to put you in the line of fire again.”

  “Well, I won’t be in the line of fire.” I tried to reassure us both. “A short, nondescript, dead man will be.”

  “You’re sure you can do this.”

  “Hell, no,” I said grimly.

  Chapter 9

  The Audi hugged the road on the way into the foothills. Kane and I exchanged the fervent smiles of a pair of car fanatics as we rounded the first curves.

  “I suppose it would be unbecoming for an officer of the law to speed,” I suggested innocently.

  Kane gave me a predatory grin. “Lucky I’m an energy consultant tonight.” The purr of the big V10 engine deepened to a velvet growl and the car effortlessly accelerated, pressing me back into the seat.

  “Ooh, yeah,” I crooned. “Come on, baby!”

  Kane glanced over, the corner of his mouth crooked up. “Do you need a moment alone with the car?”

  I smirked at him, unabashed. “Yes.”

  “Too bad. Looks like we’re here.”

  I sighed, eyeing the discreet sign beside the overgrown laneway as he braked. “Are you sure we can’t just keep driving? I know where there’s a road that this car could really sink its teeth into…”

  “I’d love to,” he assured me. “But duty calls.”

  “Duty sucks,” I muttered as we pulled up to elegant wrought-iron gates. The uniformed attendant examined the expensive-looking invitation Kane displayed, and nodded to the gatehouse guard. The gates swung open and we purred sedately up the driveway.

  The narrow strip of asphalt wound through heavy spruce forest for several hundred yards. As we swung around the final bend, a dramatic vista opened before us where the land fell away into a rolling valley with a spectacular mountain panorama spread out behind it.

  We drove up the final hill, passing a parking lot on our right just before we arrived at a cul-de-sac where other guests were disembarking from their luxury cars. I spotted a couple of Vipers and a brand-new Lamborghini in the mix.

  I nudged Kane. “Jeez, talk about embarrassing for those guys. They must hate it when they show up at a party and somebody else is driving the same Viper as they are.”

  He snickered. “Oh, the humiliation. But I think I could take it.”

  “No shit.”

  We pulled up to the curb and Kane turned to me. “Ready to do this?”

  I groaned. “Okay, I’m putting on my well-behaved lah-de-dah act now. See if you can stand in front of the car door to block the view. If I manage to get out of this car without exposing myself, it’ll be a friggin’ miracle.”

  He chuckled and got out of the car, pacing around to the passenger side to open the door for me. He stooped, offering me a courtly hand. With intense concentration, I remembered to keep my knees together, unfurling my legs out the door and coming to my feet as gracefully as possible.

  The perfidious skirt slithered up my thighs again, but not far enough to expose anything but a tiny sliver of the lace at the top of my stockings. I kept my face pleasantly composed while Kane and I strolled away from the car.

  “I’m going to kill Nichele,” I grated through my teeth as I smiled genteelly up at Kane.

  “I’m going to write her a thank-you note,” he rumbled in my ear. “You’re stunning in that dress.”

  I managed a more genuine smile, hiding the shiver of heat that raced through me. “Thanks.”

  Kane turned over the keys to the valet and we proceeded along a paved walkway, cresting a gentle slope. We both paused, taking in the layout. I resisted the urge to gawp open-mouthed.

  To our right, an enormous fountain splashed lavishly over a well-endowed bronze mermaid. The walkway meandered in curves down the side of the slope, past two sprawling slate-clad buildings with copper roofs.

  A small lake nestled at the bottom of the slope, surrounded by a boardwalk. Several fountains played in the lake, their spray modulated and choreographed to the music that emanated from speakers embedded every ten feet or so along the low wall that defined the walkway.

  Beside the lake, an open two-storey structure seemed to be the focus of activity, with tables and chairs set up on both levels. Other buildings dotted the landscape, each expertly designed to complement the layout and landscaping.

  Kane tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and moved forward, rousing me from my daze. I glanced up at him. He looked confident and relaxed, his face pleasant and open. There was no sign of the intense focus I knew existed behind his eyes.

  Nervousness skittered down my spine. Kane was a highly trained secret agent, putting his life on the line to protect national security. I was an idiot civilian. What the hell was I doing here? My ineptness could kill him. Could kill both of us. And if we failed, a lot of other innocent people could get hurt, too. I sent out a mental plea to whatever gods might be listening.

  Please, please, don’t let me screw up.

  I willed the tension out of my body and pulled on my ‘polite company’ personality like an objectionable second skin. I let the high heels and slithery dress take over, changing my usual stride into the smooth, undulating movement Nichele called my supermodel walk.

  As Kane and I strolled down the walkway, I straightened my spine and heads turned as we passed. I felt a moment of misgiving. Kane’s breadth of shoulder and his six-foot-four height drew immediate attention, and I was over six feet tall in my heels, too. We weren’t exactly unobtrusive.

  Another uniformed staff member was stationed halfway down the path, guiding the flow of guests. “Welcome,” he greeted us. “Please join us in the gazebo.” He gestured toward the two-storey building by the lake, and Kane thanked him graciously as we followed the pathway down.

  I struggled to control my face when we arri
ved at the so-called gazebo. It was an enormous structure. Each level sported a full bar, and it had tables and chairs enough for at least fifty people per floor. Waiters and waitresses circulated with trays of hors d’oeuvres and drinks. With difficulty, I suppressed my natural impulse to dive into an immediate feeding frenzy. As I nibbled noncommittally on an appetizer, a waiter appeared beside us, offering white wine from the tray of glasses that he carried.

  I met his eyes, creating a personal connection. “What is the grape?” I murmured, pitching my voice so that it would only be audible to him.

  “It’s our house white,” he responded. “It’s a Chardonnay.”

  I let the faintest breath of disappointment tinge my “Oh.” I smiled politely at him. “Thank you.”

  As I reached for a glass, he said quickly, “If you’d prefer something else, I’d be happy to bring it for you.”

  I let my smile reach my eyes. “That’s very kind, but I don’t want to trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, ma’am,” he assured me. “What would you like?”

  I let my voice go a little husky. “I’d love a Sauvignon Blanc.”

  He swallowed visibly and turned to look up at Kane. “And for you, sir?”

  “Do you have any single-malt scotch?” Kane asked him politely.

  “Yes, sir, I believe we have several.”

  Kane nodded satisfaction. “Don’t bother bringing our drinks, then. We’ll go up to the bar so I can see what you have, and we’ll get the wine there, too.”

  The waiter hovered indecisively. “It’s no bother. I’ll check with the bartender about the scotch and be right back.”

  Kane shook his head. “It’s quite all right. Thank you.” He discreetly laid a twenty on the waiter’s tray and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me through the crowd. As we made our way slowly toward the bar, I noticed our waiter weaving his way expertly through the crush. He caught the bartender’s attention and indicated us with a nod.

  I smiled up at Kane. “Nicely done.”

  When we arrived at the bar, the bartender greeted us cheerfully. “I hear you’re looking for a Sauvignon Blanc,” he addressed me.

  “That would be lovely, thank you,” I responded, giving him full eye contact. He smiled warmly and reached for a bottle.

  Beside me, a short man in a tux turned, his gaze locking onto my boobs before struggling upward to my face.

  He held my eyes as he leaned toward the bartender. “Don’t give her that plonk, Dave. Open a bottle of the good stuff.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Harchman,” Dave responded, and vanished behind the bar.

  I let an intimate smile spread over my face. “Mr. Harchman. Our host for this lovely event. How nice to meet you.” I infused the word ‘nice’ with a warm, husky undertone as I surveyed him as though we were the only two people in the room.

  He stretched to his full height, which I guessed to be about five-seven, his pot belly winking with diamond shirt studs. Enormous diamond rings glittered on his pudgy fingers, and the strength of his cologne turned my stomach. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could see the plugs in his thinning blond hair. His pale blue eyes slithered south to my cleavage again.

  He seized my hand, planting a wet kiss on my knuckles. I detected a brush of tongue, and clamped down my reflexive shudder with every bit of control I owned.

  “Please, call me Lawrence,” he murmured, still clutching my hand in a moist grip. “And you are?”

  “Aydan Kane,” I introduced myself. “And this is my husband, John.”

  I turned to discover Kane had faded away. I spotted him some distance down the bar, apparently discussing scotch with the bartender. I tossed my head and turned back to Harchman.

  “It seems I’m temporarily without a husband.” I gave the comment a meaningful intonation and watched Harchman’s avid response with carefully concealed distaste.

  Dave the bartender arrived with a glass, and I used the opportunity to disengage my hand from Harchman’s clingy grasp.

  “Thank you, Dave,” I said warmly, and he smiled and nodded. I swirled the wine around the glass, inhaling its aroma, and then sipped, savouring it.

  “What do you think?” Harchman inquired eagerly.

  “It’s quite unusual,” I told him, realizing as I spoke that Kane had reappeared behind me. “I’ve never had an oaked Sauvignon Blanc.”

  Harchman nodded enthusiastically. “Do you like it?”

  I sipped again, slowly. As I lowered the glass again, I flicked the tip of my tongue against the rim of the glass, catching a tiny drop of wine. “The oak gives it just the right amount of… texture,” I purred. “I always think a touch of roughness makes things so much more interesting, don’t you?”

  A flush rose above Harchman’s collar as his eyes glazed over. Nice to know I could still do that. I leaned languidly back against Kane, glancing up at him over my shoulder. “John, this is Lawrence Harchman. Lawrence, I’d like you to meet my absent husband, John.”

  Kane’s arm went around my waist in a proprietary gesture as he extended his hand to Harchman. “Mr. Harchman. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Harchman straightened. “Please call me Lawrence. And you’re with…?”

  “Kane Consulting,” Kane informed him. “I’m looking forward to your presentation tonight.”

  Harchman nodded and his eyes drifted back to the circulating guests. I leaned toward him, dislodging Kane’s arm, and reached for his pudgy hand again. “Lawrence,” I murmured intimately. “It was lovely to meet you. And your home is magnificent.”

  His gaze darted between Kane and me, assessing us. Then he smiled and leaned closer to me. “This is just the gazebo,” he said. “Wait ‘til you see the house.”

  I did my best wide-eyed admiration. “I’d love to. I always wanted to be an interior decorator. I’d love to see everything you’re willing to show me.” I almost gagged as I said it, but apparently Harchman was full of himself to the point of being totally oblivious.

  He gave me a slimy smile. “I’d be happy to give you a personal tour later.”

  “Thank you, I’ll look forward to it,” I lied. “And now I suppose we shouldn’t keep you from your guests any longer.”

  Harchman nodded. “Come and find me after the presentation.”

  “I will,” I murmured.

  He wove his way out into the crowd, and I sipped the wine again, relaxing against the bar and letting my eyes roam casually across the gazebo. As soon as Harchman vanished in the crush, I stepped back beside Kane.

  “I think I’m going to puke,” I whispered.

  He chuckled. “You did fine. You’re full of surprises. I didn’t know you were an oenophile.”

  “I’m not. I’m a dedicated beer drinker. I learned the lingo so I didn’t look like a total idiot at Robert’s business dinners.”

  “Well, you had me fooled.” He put his arm around me and leaned down, hiding his lips in my hair. “Try the network.”

  I slipped my arm around him and leaned my head on his shoulder. Concentrating on being Robert, I stepped into the void, then immediately backed out, heart pounding. Pain slammed into my head and I controlled my face and reflexive profanity with a supreme effort. Kane’s arm was tight around me, and I stood on my own feet again as quickly and unobtrusively as possible.

  Kane smiled down at me. His facial expression and body language were casual, but his eyes were filled with concern. I smiled back, linking my arms around his neck as I stood on tiptoe to place my lips near his ear.

  My mind went momentarily blank when his arms closed around me, pressing me against his hard-muscled body. I refocused with difficulty.

  “It’s here,” I whispered. “Broadcasting right out here. What the hell are they doing?”

  He shook his head as we drew apart. “Let’s circulate.”

  Kane moved confidently through the crowd, greeting people he apparently knew as business associates and making small talk. I followed, thankful I hadn’t see
n anyone I recognized. I laughed and chatted with a couple of people, channelling my alien business persona with more ease than I’d expected. Funny how the skills you never wanted to learn are the ones that stay with you.

  I was turning to snag a curried shrimp from a passing tray when a movement at the entrance caught my eye. Kane and I exchanged a glance at the sight of the two large black-clad men who moved purposefully through the crowd, their eyes in constant motion while they scanned faces. They both wore security earpieces, and when one of them turned sideways to avoid a guest, I glimpsed a holster under his suit jacket.

  My heart kicked my ribs when the second man’s intent gaze fell on me, and I tried to hold my face in a pleasant expression. I smothered a sigh of relief when his eyes roamed past without reaction. Kane’s arm slipped around my waist, and I managed a plastic smile while he introduced me to yet another person I wouldn’t remember in ten seconds.

  The two men concluded their walk-through and vanished, and Kane leaned down. “Okay?” he whispered against my ear.

  I gave him my best confident smile. “Fine,” I said, and concentrated on slowing my pounding pulse.

  Willing calm, I nibbled a few more of the delicious hors d’oeuvres and finished my wine. No sooner had I drained the glass than the waiter appeared with a fresh one. I thanked him, Kane tipped him again, and I raised my glass in thanks to Dave the bartender as well.

  The evening dragged on. My feet hurt and my face was stiff from smiling by the time dinner was announced.

  I sighed silently as we made our way arm in arm up the walkway toward the main house. Kane must have felt the rise and fall of my rib cage, because he leaned down to my ear. “Hang in there. The food’s going to be excellent.”

  I gave him my first sincere smile of the evening, my spirits rising. He knew the way to my heart.

  Chapter 10

  When we entered the magnificent foyer of the house, I let go of Kane’s arm. “I’m going to go and freshen up.”

  He nodded, and I moved across the marble-paved space in the direction I’d seen other women take. Sure enough, there was a powder room a short distance down the hallway. I chatted politely with several other women while I waited my turn.

 

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