“Cass?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.”
Cassidy winked. Always, Love.
PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC
Claire looked at the plaque on the wall: Atomen EU. “ASA. Fuckers are everywhere.” She meandered down the hallway until she reached a large foyer.
“May I help you?”
Claire was surprised at the greeting. Not only was it in English, the woman spoke with a British accent. “I hope so. Claire Brackett. I believe Mr. Gregorovich is expecting me.”
“He is,” the woman agreed. “Do you need anything?” she asked. “Coffee or—”
Claire took notice of the flirtatious smile. This woman was not a secretary or an administrative associate. Whoever she was, she knew Claire’s reputation. “I tend more toward scotch or whiskey.”
“That can be arranged—later.”
“I’ll take that into consideration—”
“Iris,” the woman extended her hand.
“Iris,” Claire repeated the name. Something tells me you’re no delicate flower. Claire gestured to the office.
“Go right ahead,” Iris said. “You know where to find me.”
“I suppose I do.” Claire painted on a winning smile and stepped into Pyotr Gregorovich’s corner office.
“Well,” he greeted her. “The Sparrow has returned to her nest, has she?”
“Pyotr.”
“I wasn’t certain that you’d accept my invitation.”
Claire shrugged. She sprawled across a sofa that sat against the far wall and stretched. “I wasn’t busy.”
“I heard.”
“Besides,” Claire looked back at the door. “Prague seems to hold some promise.”
“I will assume that you met Iris.”
“Most people bring tea home from London, Pyotr,” Claire poked.
He laughed. “We aren’t most people.”
Claire shrugged.
“So, tell me—I thought you’d flown away,” he said. “After your father’s death—”
“My father was never my keeper. He liked to think so.”
“And, what of The Spider?”
“Alex? Alex never changes.”
“I was given to understand that you two had struck a Holy alliance.”
Claire snorted. “Nothing about what we do is holy.”
“Indeed. Why the interest in old acquaintances?”
Claire shrugged again and crossed her legs. “Boredom.”
“The FBI is not holding your interest, or is it The Spider that bores you?”
Claire met Gregorovich’s curious gaze. He knew her reputation—everyone did. That’s why Iris had been the person to greet her. Everyone thought they knew Claire. That brought her both amusement and satisfaction. She had used her womanly attributes to elicit information. She would never deny that. The number of men—or women—who landed in her bed remained fewer than most people believed. She could tease the truth and the darkest secrets from most men, and she enjoyed the game. Claire seldom needed to follow through with her overtures. When she took a man to bed, it was always to weaken him. When she took a woman as a lover, it was either for pleasure or the challenge—most times, both. Claire leaned forward slightly, allowing a hint of her cleavage to reveal itself. “I don’t play by Alex’s rules,” she said. “Alex likes rules.”
“And, you like to break them.”
“I like to redefine them,” Claire corrected him. “Rules are made for the weak, Pyotr. Leaders make rules, change rules—create the game that others willingly play.”
“That’s what led you here?”
“Maybe,” she replied evenly. She reclined again on the sofa. “I’m curious. Why would ASA be interested in a postage stamp like Kaliningrad?”
Gregorovich leaned back in his chair and considered Claire’s question. “Why would that interest you, Sparrow?”
Claire chuckled. “Dimitri had this idea,” she began. “Not so much an idea as a scheme.”
“Dimitri Kargen is dead.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You killed him.”
“He had a gun pointed at me.”
Gregorovich remained stoic.
“Should I offer my condolences?” Claire’s question dripped with sarcasm. “He’s been dead for years, Pyotr.”
“You think this scheme is his legacy,” he guessed.
“Oh, he wasn’t the mastermind. I think we both know that.”
Gregorovich made no reply.
“Or perhaps I overestimated you.”
“What do you want, Claire?”
“A piece of the pie—what else?”
“I think you’ve spent too much time in the past.”
Claire laughed.
“That amuses you?”
“Why wouldn’t it? You called me. If you don’t want my help, I’m certain there are those who will.” Claire stood, smoothed out her skirt, and offered the man a smile. “It was nice seeing you.”
“Wait,” he called to her. “What of Lynx?”
“What about him?”
“You’re close to him, no?”
“He’s close to Alex, not to me.”
“Ah, but you are close to his daughter.”
Claire felt her stomach flip. She had expected that the doorway back inside the devil’s lair would require information about Cassidy’s father. Jim McCollum remained a sought after entity. He held more information about the alliances in the intelligence community than any living person. She did not relish the idea of exposing him. Careful, Pyotr. She smiled. “What do you want to know?”
“He spent more than twenty years underground.”
“Literally,” Claire said.
“Yet he remained in control.”
“That’s not how he tells it.”
“It’s how I have heard it told,” Gregorovich said.
“Well, we are all told what someone wants us to hear.”
“Mm. Project Lynx is dead then?”
“Nothing is ever dead.”
Gregorovich smiled. “Changed,” he offered. “There’s more than one way to control people.”
Claire nodded. “As fascinating as this conversation is, I have places—”
“You know, when Viktor started ASA, it was about the future, Claire. He knew that our power will not be found in the might of tanks, missiles, or dirty bombs.”
Claire waited.
“Those things are still effective. They are not the way forward. Those weapons merely complement something more lucrative.”
“What does that mean to me?” Claire said.
Gregorovich grinned. “Do you want to discover secrets, Claire, or do you want to create them?”
Claire arched her brow. I’m in. “What do you suggest?” she asked.
“I want you to meet with an associate of mine.” Gregorovich passed a card to Claire.
“Fyodor Popescu?”
“He’s an associate at Biocon. I expect he will be in Suceava on Wednesday. Meet him there.”
“Romania?”
“It gives you some time to explore.”
Claire grinned deviously.
“Prague,” Gregorovich clarified.
“Of course,” Claire replied. “What should I be prepared to discuss with Mr. Popescu?”
“Initiatives,” Gregorovich replied.
“Initiatives?”
Gregorovich nodded. “We’ll speak after you meet Fyodor. Then you can decide what else you might wish to explore with me.”
Claire stood and leaned over Gregorovich’s desk. She watched a lump form in his throat. Predictable. She placed the card in front of him and held back her laughter when he stared down her shirt.
“Don’t you need the address?” he asked.
“I have a good memory,” she replied. She stood and smiled at him. “I tend to remember what I see.”
Gregorovich’s face flushed.
“I look forward to exploring the area,” she said. “I hear the
botanical gardens are lovely.” She lifted her brow and walked out of the office. Claire swore she heard him gulp from behind his desk. So predictable.
“Short meeting,” Iris observed.
“Seems I have a little time to kill,” Claire said.
“Can I interest you in dinner?”
Here we go. “I thought you’d never ask.”
WESTPORT, CONNECTICUT
Cassidy jumped when her phone rang and nearly cut herself. “Claire?”
“Hey.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I need a favor.”
“I thought you were in Prague?”
“I am.”
“Okay?”
“I need you to call me in three hours.”
Cassidy held the phone away from her and shook her head. “Do I want to ask why?”
“Nope.”
“Just call you.”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Does Alex—”
“Can we just keep this between us?”
“Claire?”
“Cassidy, please? I just need an excuse to leave this dinner thing I got railroaded into.”
“You want me to call so you can make an excuse to leave dinner?”
“More like I don’t want dinner to turn into dessert.”
Cassidy sighed. “I’m not going to ask.”
“Good.”
“Three hours?” Cassidy asked for clarification.
“Please.”
“You know, if Alex asks—”
“I know, but I don’t want to play twenty questions with Alex today.”
Cassidy giggled. Alex tended to ask more questions than needed, mostly when it came to Claire or one of the kids. “I think I understand. Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Hey, tell D I said hello. It doesn’t look like I’ll be back this week. I hope you have a good visit.”
“We will. I’ll tell him.”
“Yeah. I gotta go. Three hours. Okay?”
“I’ve got it.” Cassidy set down the phone and laughed.
“Who was that?” Alex asked.
“Your partner.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Well, now I have to.”
“She’s okay, Alex.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Alex—”
“Why did she call? Did she—”
“Alex!”
“Okay!”
Cassidy’s pursed her lips.
“What?” Alex asked.
“They’re here.”
“Huh?”
“Jane and Dylan.” Cassidy put the tray in front of her into the refrigerator.
“I just checked—” Before Alex could finish her thought she heard a car door close. “How the hell did you hear that?”
Cassidy grabbed Alex’s hand.
“Seriously. I don’t know how you can still hear things so far away.”
“Still? Are you saying I’m old?”
“Huh?”
“You are. You think I’m old.”
Alex picked up her pace and opened the front door. “Hey, Speed!” She hugged Dylan. “Perfect timing,” she whispered.
Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Perfect timing for you,” Cassidy quipped. She stepped up and embraced her son. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Thanks for driving him up,” Cassidy told Jane.
“Oh, I never miss a chance for tacos and wine with the Toles family,” Jane replied.
“That’s good. You can have Alex’s share.”
“What?” Alex asked. “Why would—”
“Alex seems to think I’ve grown old,” Cassidy said as she led Jane into the house.
“I didn’t say that!”
Dylan looked at Alex. “At least, it’s not me in trouble anymore.”
“Give it time, Speed.”
“Don’t listen to her, Dylan!” Cassidy called back. “She’s older. Her mind is slipping.”
“My mind isn’t slipping!” Alex called out. She turned to Dylan. “You don’t really think she’d give Jane my tacos?”
Dylan laughed. “Glad to see nothing has changed.”
Alex entered the kitchen. Cassidy offered her a smile that was unmistakably affectionate and loving. Thankfully, not that.
***
Cassidy watched as Dylan put away the last dish from the dishwasher. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Sure, I did,” he said. “Are the kids asleep?”
Cassidy chuckled.
“What did I say?”
“Oh, nothing. It doesn’t seem like long ago that Alex was asking me if you’d gone down for the night.”
Dylan smiled. “If you guys want to tuck me in later—”
Cassidy rolled her eyes. “I’ll let you handle that.”
“Mom?”
“Hm?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Define everything,” Cassidy joked.
“With Alex.”
Cassidy’s brow furrowed with confusion.
“She disappeared downstairs with Jane not long after you went upstairs. She said she’d be right back, but—”
“I could use a glass of wine. How about you?”
“I hate wine.”
“How about one of Alex’s beers?” Cassidy offered.
“Really?”
“It’s not the first time I’ve offered you a beer. You’re home.”
“It must be bad,” Dylan replied.
“Nothing is wrong, Dylan. I promise.” She pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, poured herself a glass, and then handed Dylan a bottle of beer. “It’s not too cold out. How do you feel about a lighting the firepit on the patio?” she suggested.
“Works for me.”
Cassidy tossed Dylan one of Alex’s sweatshirts that hung by the door and grabbed her sweater from the back of a chair. “I provided the beverages. You start the fire.”
“Fair.”
Cassidy pulled the covers off the chairs on the patio and placed them into a storage box. “I miss being out here. I’m glad winter is over.”
“Maybe you and Alex should move someplace warmer,” Dylan replied as he threw a few logs into the pit.
“Like where? Florida? What is it with you and Alex? First Alex thinks my hearing should be going at my age, and now you have us skipping off to a retirement community.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, good! Last I checked, I have a toddler, two kids in kindergarten, and Mackenzie. I don’t think I can afford a retirement community or to lose my hearing just yet.”
“You remind me of Grandma right now.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Not like that!” Dylan laughed. “I just mean that it sounds like something she’d say.” He grabbed his beer from the ground and claimed a seat where he could look at his mother. “Does it bother you?”
“What?”
“Alex doing what she does.”
“We’ve talked about this before.”
“Yeah, but I get the feeling that Alex is doing more than what the FBI tells her to do.”
Cassidy sipped her wine without comment.
“Guess that answers that question.”
“Dylan—”
“I get it. Let it go. I guess being at school has made me think about it more.”
“Think about what?” Cassidy asked.
“What Alex does. Claire. What my father did—both of them. Look at you.”
“Me?”
“Working for Candace. Mom, you get close to a lot of secrets.”
“I don’t know that I would say that.”
“Okay, you know things that most people will never know.”
There was no point in denying Dylan’s observation. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Does it bother you? Knowing things and not being allowed to share them?”
“I guess that depends. There isn’t anything I won’t share with Ale
x.”
“Not even—”
“Not anything,” Cassidy said. “We agreed when we decided to be together that there would be no secrets between us. I’ve never swayed in that commitment.”
“But can Alex tell you everything?”
“You mean about what she does at work.”
“Yeah.”
“She tells me what I need to know to understand what she is dealing with,” Cassidy replied honestly. “I don’t need all the details. The big picture is enough.”
“Can I ask you something?” Dylan wondered.
“You can ask me anything. I can’t promise you that I will have an answer.”
“Do you ever wish she would go back to teaching for the State Police?”
“Every day.”
“But you don’t ask her to—”
“I would never ask her to change who she is, Dylan. Just like I would never ask you to do that. What brought this about?” Cassidy inquired.
“I’m not sure. Something Steph said to me today, I guess—about never really knowing who our father was.”
“Is this about John, or is this about Alex?” Cassidy asked.
“Maybe it’s about everyone,” Dylan said. “How do you know who anyone is—really? And, if you have to keep secrets, how does anyone ever know you?”
“No one ever has to keep secrets,” Cassidy said. “That’s a choice. Just like lying is a choice.”
“A choice that’s wrong,” Dylan surmised.
“I didn’t say that. People hide things, people fabricate things with the best of intentions at times. They think it’s the right thing to do. That has never changed the fact that secrets and lies are almost always revealed. When they come to light, they tend to be destructive for everyone.”
Dylan loved to listen to his mother. She was, by his estimation, the most honest person he knew. She carried tremendous guilt. Most of that guilt was over her decision to keep his biological father a secret. “You mean about my father.”
“I mean everything, Dylan. I didn’t keep that from you to hurt you. It doesn’t change the fact that it did hurt you. He didn’t keep that from Stephanie and Alexandra to hurt them. It did. The truth can also hurt.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what you do.”
“Sure, it does. You have to be prepared to accept the consequences of your decisions—to endure the fallout. That’s all I’m saying. I think most of us do the best that we can. If we had foresight the way we have hindsight, we could avoid a lot of issues. We also wouldn’t learn much.”
“I guess,” Dylan said.
“I get the feeling there is more to this discussion than you are telling me.”
Identity Page 10
