I eyed the unprepossessing figure approaching us, wondering if Tyler Brock was any less annoying now than when I’d first met him four months ago. He didn’t look any different. Still glittering with piercings in every square inch of his face; still shaggy-haired, patchy-bearded, and petulant-looking. I averted my gaze from the mustard-yellow jeans that hugged his skinny legs and concentrated instead on his Buddy-Holly-style glasses and the bulky toque and scarf that looked far too warm for the spring weather.
His ring-bedecked mouth twisted into a supercilious sneer as he joined us.
Nope. Still an irritating little shit. And he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet…
“Yo,” he said.
“Hi, Tyler!” Tammy turned a worshipful face toward him. “How’s my favourite knight in shining armour today? Are you feeling better? I hope your headache went away, headaches are just awful, aren’t they…”
Brock pushed past without responding, groping into his man-purse for a set of keys. When he unlocked his office door my jaw dropped. Black fabric shrouded the windows, reducing the morning sunshine to gloomy twilight. The walls were covered with music posters and a rack of stereo equipment dominated the back wall.
Extracting a small remote from his pocket, Brock pressed a button and black-light lamps illuminated on his desk while a cacophony of electric guitars shattered the air.
“Jesus!” I recoiled and clapped my hands over my ears, my hearing overloading into physical pain after the previous day’s close-range gunshots. “Turn it down!” I shouted.
Everybody turned to stare at me and Brock’s sneer widened. He pressed his remote again, raising the volume. His lips moved but his words were inaudible in the shitstorm of noise. Lipreading, I deciphered “My office, my music.”
The frazzled threads of my composure snapped. In two long strides, I reached his stereo system and punched the power button with enough force to slam the unit back against the wall. In the sudden silence I crowded into his personal space, making the most of my three-inch height advantage.
“This time I turned it off with the button,” I growled. “Next time I’ll turn it off with a sledgehammer. Got it?”
The little snot paled and took a step back, but he wasn’t smart enough to shut up. “Then I’ll have you charged with vandalism,” he snipped.
My fist shot out of its own accord to clench his funky scarf and haul his face within inches of mine. My words came out in a deadly hiss. “Yesterday I killed a man. The day before that I killed a man. Want to go three for three?”
“Aydan, no!” Spider clutched my sleeve, his voice shrill with alarm.
On my other side, Jill closed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Kelly, stand down!”
Brock’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly and I unhanded him with a shove. “Lucky for you that you’re not a man,” I snarled. “You’re not even worth my effort.”
“Hello, everybody, sorry I’m late…” The melodious voice from the doorway trailed off uncertainly, and we all turned. Jack’s flawless ivory forehead puckered slightly under her cloud of angel-blonde hair, her blue eyes widening. “Um, is… everything… okay?” she faltered.
Chapter 7
“Is that you, Dr. Travers?” Tammy spoke up eagerly. At Jack’s cautious assent, Tammy gushed, “I knew it was you, you wear the most beautiful perfume and I know you must be just as beautiful as it is! And oooh, you just missed the most exciting thing, Aydan threatened to kill Tyler, it was just like an audiobook! But she was just kidding, weren’t you, Aydan?”
Fortunately she didn’t allow me a chance to reply.
“…Because nobody would ever want to hurt Tyler,” she chattered on. “He’s my knight in shining armour and I just love-love-love him to death! We have so much fun together, don’t we, Tyler? I’m so glad I get to work with you every day, even if your music is kind of awful-”
“Will you shut up, you pathetic loser?” Brock flared, and Tammy’s crushed look made my fist itch to crush him in turn. He drew a deep breath and adjusted his rumpled scarf and snotty expression before sidling past me. When he was safely at the door, he turned and looked down his pierced nose.
“I’m pressing charges, Kelly,” he said. “You’re going to jail. Bitch.”
I felt my face twist with fury and he paled again and scuttled away.
Jill planted herself in front of me before I could lunge after him. “Stop,” she commanded. “Take a breath.”
Jaw locked, I obeyed. One breath. Then another, hissing through my clenched teeth.
“Aydan?” Jack stepped forward to lay a gentle hand on my shoulder. “What happened?” she asked softly. “What did he do?”
I drew in a deep breath through my nose and let it out slowly through my mouth.
“I overreacted.” My voice came out harsh despite my best efforts. “I overstressed my hearing yesterday. He cranked on the music and it hurt my ears and startled the hell out of me. Too much adrenaline. Then he acted like the little shit he is and I lost my temper.”
“But you didn’t hurt him, did you?” Jack directed a frown in the direction of the empty doorway. “He looked fine.”
“He is fine.” Spider’s tone held more venom than I’d ever heard from my sweet-natured young friend. “He’s just trying to stir up trouble the way he always does. He’s a… a…” Spider flushed, blotches of red glowing on his cheeks. “An asshole!” he burst out, and blushed so hard the tips of his ears turned purple. He turned to take Tammy’s hand. “You’re not pathetic, or a loser. You’re a really nice person and he’s just a jerk. Don’t let him make you feel bad.”
A wobbly smile warmed Tammy’s face and she threw her arms around him as high as she could reach, which was his skinny midsection. “Thanks, Spider. You’re such a sweetie. But it’s okay, I know Tyler didn’t mean what he said. Everybody has a grumpy day sometimes.”
“Try ‘all the time’,” Spider muttered.
“Well…” Jack looked from me to Spider to Jill. “What should we do? We can’t go ahead without him.”
I sank wearily into his chair and propped my feet on his desk, crossing my arms over my chest. “We wait. When he’s done crying to Stemp, either he’ll come back or Stemp will. Shouldn’t take long…”
As the words left my mouth, Stemp appeared in the doorway, his expression impassive as always. “Kelly,” he said emotionlessly. “In my office.”
“It wasn’t her fault!” Spider protested. “He provoked her and she didn’t even hurt him even though he deserved it-”
Stemp silenced him with a quelling glance, and I dragged myself up to balance on suddenly-shaky legs. He wouldn’t send me to jail, would he? Oh, God, and I’d thought the safe house was bad…
Stemp motioned me ahead of him and I tottered down the hall to his office in silence. I’d die in jail. Or kill myself. Or kill somebody else…
When I turned the corner into Stemp’s office, the sight of Brock sent another sizzle of rage through my veins. Thankful Stemp was behind me, I gave Brock the full force of my glare before smoothing the expression from my face and pulling a chair up close beside his.
He gave me an uneasy glance and twitched his chair a little farther away.
I showed him my teeth. “Don’t worry, Brock, I won’t bite.”
“No, you’ll shoot me.” He turned his self-righteous expression toward Stemp, who had just seated himself behind his desk. “I want to press charges! She threatened to shoot me! And she grabbed me and hurt me!”
I put every ounce of my self-control into an even tone. “Actually, I did neither.”
“She’s lying! I have witnesses…” Brock voice rose in a squeak of indignation.
“Brock.” Stemp’s dispassionate word silenced him effortlessly. “Where are you injured?”
“She grabbed me around the neck!” Brock shot me a look of hatred and clutched his scarf with a dramatic hand.
“Let me see.” Stemp eyed him levelly across the desk.
Brock’s air of v
ictimhood faded as his normal personality reasserted itself. “You don’t need to see.” He sniffed. “I have three witnesses that will tell you she grabbed me by the throat.”
“Except one of them is blind,” I pointed out, holding onto my temper for all I was worth. “And the other two will confirm that I only grabbed your scarf.”
Stemp rose and came around the desk. “Brock, take off your scarf and show me your neck.”
“Well, you won’t be able to see any marks by now,” Brock huffed as he unwound the scarf.
Stemp studied his unmarred throat in silence before raising his reptilian gaze to transfix Brock like a rat before a cobra. The silence stretched.
Brock fidgeted with the scarf in his lap, his gaze darting away from Stemp’s smooth deadly features. After several long moments he tossed his head. “Well, fine. She grabbed me by my scarf, not my neck. But she pushed me and I could have been badly hurt! And she threatened to kill me…”
“Kelly?” Stemp asked without removing his cold gaze from Brock.
I explained everything exactly as it had happened, finishing with, “I overreacted, and I’m sorry.”
Stemp eyed Brock expressionlessly. “If I interview the witnesses, will they confirm Kelly’s story?” he asked.
“Probably,” Brock said, a whine creeping into his petulance. “They’re all buddy-buddy. They’d lie to protect her-”
“Enough.” Stemp’s voice didn’t rise, but the word snapped out like a whip. “Webb is my most trusted analyst and he is scrupulously honest. Both Francis and Kelly have acted with integrity even under threat of death. You will not slander my staff. You will not press charges against Agent Kelly, and if you choose to do so despite my direct order, I will be pleased to inform the police of your lies to me.”
He leaned closer to Brock. “You may recall that I have the power to make charges against my agents go away. I suggest you don’t test that power. I further suggest that you make it a policy from now on not to deliberately provoke my agents. And…” His voice went ice-cold, making me shiver even though it wasn’t directed my way. “…I strongly suggest that you never lie to me again.”
Brock blinked and gulped. Then, unbelievably, he copped an attitude. “Fine.” He rose and flung his scarf theatrically around his neck. “I should have known you’d turn this around on me. You’d do anything to cover up for your precious agents-”
“Kelly.” Stemp’s voice was so dangerous that my hand twitched toward my holster out of sheer reflex. “Wait outside.”
I sprang up and scooted out the door, closing it behind me. A few paces away, I sagged against the wall, my heart thumping.
God, Brock had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. Even though I had hurled abuse at Stemp a few times myself, I had never insulted his integrity or objectivity. Brock’s snide insinuation was a whole lot worse than calling Stemp a dickhead in the heat of anger.
Only a couple of minutes later Stemp’s door opened and Brock tottered out looking as though he’d left behind several pints of blood and most of his entrails. White to the lips, he stared straight ahead while he felt his way along the corridor wall toward the men’s room.
“Kelly.” Stemp’s emotionless voice made me twitch in spite of myself. “Please come in.”
I re-entered his office cautiously, glancing around for evidence of the evisceration that had just occurred.
The office was pristine as always, and I eased into the chair Stemp indicated across the desk from him.
He studied me in silence. Only one of his hands was on the desk. I knew damn well he was holding that goddamn trank gun in the other.
Refusing to give in to the urge to talk just to fill the silence, I held his gaze as steadily as I could manage.
After several minutes, the corner of his mouth quirked up a fraction. “Very well,” he said as though continuing an argument. “I’ve rescheduled your psych evaluation for this afternoon at fourteen-thirty. Can I trust you to control your violent impulses until then?”
Ignoring the burning in my cheeks, I nodded. “I’m sorry. I normally wouldn’t have let him get to me. It was just the double whammy of a shot of adrenaline and pain. Fear and pain makes me instantly furious. I’ve been that way all my life.”
“Yes.” Stemp leaned back in his chair. “That was in your psych report. Dr. Rawling had some psychological explanation for it, but frankly…”
Was that a glint of humour in his eyes?
“…it seems reasonable enough to me,” he finished.
The glint vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but cold steel.
“However,” he said. “Regardless of any personal empathy I may feel, your loss of control is unacceptable. It is never appropriate to threaten or physically engage anyone except as strictly required by the needs of a mission. Don’t make the mistake of believing I’ll make exceptions for you.”
I held his gaze. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Good.” He eyed me like a snake about to strike. “Ordinarily I would suspend you on the spot, but since Ms. Mellor would suffer the consequences of that, I’m going to offer you another chance…” He held up a hand to deflect the thanks already on my lips. “…pending Dr. Rawling’s evaluation,” he went on. “If, in his opinion, you are capable of functioning as part of the team without further altercations, I’ll allow you to continue. If he has any doubts about your ability to control yourself, I will confiscate your weapons and relocate you to a safe house for your own protection. Forcibly if necessary.”
It was my turn to gulp, and I could feel the blood draining from my face. “Understood.” My voice came out in a croak.
“Very well.” He inspected me in silence again, and I held my spine straight with all the strength I could muster.
“Brock has gone home,” he said at last. A rapier-thin smile flitted across his lips. “Something about a bad headache.”
I would have smiled, too, if I hadn’t been so busy worrying about my own skin.
“…so you can begin brainstorming with Webb and Dr. Travers today,” he went on. “And if Dr. Rawling approves, you can observe Ms. Mellor’s session tomorrow. Furthermore…”
Oh, God, it was always the ‘furthermore’ that dealt the killing blow…
“I had planned to bring this up later,” he continued. “…but since your observation of Ms. Mellor is effectively cancelled for today, I’ll tell you now. The rest of the team is already aware that my position is up for review next Thursday. A representative from Human Resources will be contacting you for a peer review of my work sometime before then.”
I hadn’t thought it was possible for my stomach to sink any lower. “Oh, God,” I blurted. “Please tell me they’re not thinking of giving Dermott the director’s position.”
Impassive as always, Stemp replied, “Dermott would be the logical choice if my performance is found wanting.”
“Oh, God, we’re all going to die.” I buried my head in my hands.
“Dermott is competent,” Stemp said. “They wouldn’t consider him for the position otherwise.”
“Competent, maybe.” I dragged my head up to face him. “But only competent. Not exceptional. You’re a far better director than he could ever be.” We stared at each other in silence, and I added, “I can’t believe I just said that. But it’s true.”
One of Stemp’s rare laughs escaped, softening his features and warming his eyes. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
I filled the slightly awkward pause with the first question that came to mind. “Um… do you actually want to stay on as director?” The thought of his secret wife and daughter overseas niggled at me. “Or are you thinking of, um… retiring… soon?”
He sobered. “Retirement is my goal within the foreseeable future, but ideally not at this juncture.” He gave me a significant look. “I want to be sure all loose ends are completely resolved before I leave this position.”
Of course. Stemp the chessmaster. He’d be closing e
very loophole, making sure he and his family could live in safety even after he relinquished his access to classified intel.
“Well, you’ll get a good review from me. For what it’s worth.” I gave him a tight smile and rose to head for the door. As I touched the door handle, he spoke again.
“Aydan.”
Surprised by his use of my first name, I turned to face his penetrating gaze.
“Don’t try to deceive Dr. Rawling in your evaluation this afternoon,” he said softly. “If you go back to active duty when you’re not ready, it could cost lives. Including your own.”
I grimaced at the stab of guilt but refrained from any other comment.
Chapter 8
Like Brock, I wobbled away from Stemp’s office to the washrooms. Surveying my bloodless face in the ladies’ room mirror, I let out a sigh that came all the way from my toes and closed myself into a cubicle until I felt capable of facing Spider and Jack.
As soon as I thought I could fake composure convincingly, I plastered on a smile and strode back to Spider’s office. When I tapped on the open door, Jack eyed me worriedly and Spider sprang to his feet.
“Come in,” he said, and hurried over to close the door behind me. “What happened?” he whispered as I sank into one of his chairs. “Where’s Brock?”
“Stemp sliced and diced us both.” I let out a breath and slithered lower in the chair. “He did Brock first. I don’t know what he said, but it only took a couple of minutes before Brock came out looking like a gutted fish and went straight home.” I held up trembling fingertips a fraction of an inch apart and went on, “I came this close to getting suspended, and I might still end up that way if I can’t convince Dr. Rawling I’m sane and stable this afternoon.”
“But that’s not fair!” Spider’s eyes blazed above pinkening cheeks. “Brock deliberately provoked you! I’ll go and talk to Stemp…”
“No.” I held up a calming hand. “Thanks, Spider, but don’t. Stemp will let it go as long as Dr. Rawling okays me, so there’s no point in rocking the boat. Let’s just get to work on Tammy’s project. I only observed her that one time four months ago, so what’s new since then?”
Spy Away Home (The Never Say Spy Series Book 10) Page 6
