She gulped her mouthful. “I already did, but it’s not just the four-letter words. It’s the whole attitude. Calling women whores and bitches and promoting the rape culture as if it’s cool and desirable. But he refused anyway, and spouted some… some… crap about artistic integrity and censorship. Artistic, my Aunt Fanny! He’s a talentless little… little turd!” Her face flushed and red blotches marred the ivory skin of her throat. “I’m sorry for my language, Aydan, but I’m so angry right now I could just spit! And if he gets Charles fired and I lose my research budget, I’ll, I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do!”
I eyed her worriedly. She looked more than capable of murder with her blue eyes blazing above flaming cheeks. A very small part of me hoped she’d snap and use one of the weapons from the classified lab to end Tyler Brock and all our problems with him, but this time I managed to wrestle my evil twin into submission.
“Don’t do anything rash,” I soothed. “Stemp can take care of himself, and he was really pissed off about that favouritism thing. I wouldn’t want to be Ursula Ritter right now. It’d be safer to play Russian Roulette with a semi-auto than to get on Stemp’s bad side.”
Confusion crinkled her forehead, and I explained, “Russian Roulette only works with a revolver. You load a cartridge into one chamber and spin the cylinder before you put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. So there’s a five-out-of-six chance that the chamber will be empty and you won’t die. But a semi-automatic will always load a cartridge into the chamber, even if there’s only one left in the magazine.”
“Oh.” Jack blinked. “So death would be certain.” A smile tugged at her lips. “Russian Roulette with a semi-auto. I get it. Spy humour.”
“Yeah. Not so funny when it’s explained, sorry.” I moved on. “Anyway, my point is, don’t worry about Stemp. We’ve done all we can. And I gave him a cost-cutting measure to make him look good with his chain of command, so maybe that’ll help.” I added, “Was that what you wanted to talk to me about?” before taking another bite of my sandwich.
“Partly…” Jack chewed and swallowed. “I’m very concerned about Spider. He was despondent before, but since he’s been suspended, he seems…” She made a helpless gesture. “Hopeless, I guess. I telephoned him but he just said he wasn’t feeling well, thanked me for my concern, and hung up.”
Guilt squeezed my heart. “I’ll call him,” I promised. “I don’t know what I can do to help, but maybe I can go over to his place and get him to talk it out.”
“That would be good,” Jack agreed. “He looks up to you. And you always seem to be able to make things better.”
My guts twisted with bitter irony. I could make things better for everybody but myself.
I jerked myself out of my self-pity. Stop whining. You can make things better for yourself if you just try a little harder, so suck it up.
I managed a smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jack.” I popped the last bite of my sandwich into my mouth and gulped without tasting it before rising. “I’ll give Spider a call right away. And don’t worry, everything will work out.”
Jack flushed. “Aydan, I’m ashamed of myself. I just realized I’ve been crying on your shoulder all this time, and you’re dealing with somebody trying to kill you. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, thanks, Jack. There’s nothing you can do, and it’s been good for me to think about something else for a change.” I headed for the door before she could ask any more questions. “Will you escort me out?”
“Of course.”
She abandoned the remains of her sandwich and stood. While we walked back to the security wicket I diverted her with questions about her kids, and when she gave me a final wave and went back to her office I breathed a sigh of relief.
Flopping into one of the reception chairs, I pulled the public phone over and dialled Spider’s number. It rang four times before going to voicemail, and I left him a message to call me. Letting the receiver sag into my lap, I stared into space.
Should I drive over to his house? Maybe he was in such a funk that he wasn’t answering his phone. Or what if an assassin was stalking him even now?
I hissed out a breath. If he wasn’t answering his phone, he likely wouldn’t answer his door, either. What was I going to do? Break in?
But maybe I should break in. Maybe his lifeblood was draining away while I stood here deliberating…
Oh, God, don’t even think about that.
But if everything was fine and Linda was home sleeping off her night shift, how could I explain it when I came crashing through their door?
Inspiration finally glimmered through my fog of exhaustion, and I punched in Germain’s number.
He picked up on the second ring with a cheerful, “Germain speaking.”
Feeling better already, I imagined his powerful square build and keen brown eyes under crisp black curls. “Hi, Carl, it’s Aydan,” I began.
“Hi, Aydan. Sounds like you’re in the thick of things as usual.”
I let out a breath. “You’ve been briefed?”
“Yes, I’m over at Webb’s place now. Linda is asleep, and Webb just went to lie down, too. He’s exhausted.”
“Oh, thank God. I’m so glad you’re there.” I hesitated. “What, um… what are you going to tell Linda? To explain why you’re there all the time?”
He chuckled. “She knows I don’t have a place up here. The story is that Webb invited me to stay with them instead of at the hotel until I ship out on my next mission.”
“Perfect.” Relief eased the tension in my muscles, leaving me limp. “Thanks, Carl, and welcome back. I’ll drop by and see you pretty soon.”
“Great. You take care of yourself, you hear? Watch your back.”
I sighed. “It’s all I ever do. Talk to you later.”
Sidling out the front doors, I scanned for any skinny bearded young men, but apparently I’d seen my quota for the day. No threatening figures lurked on the roofs of the surrounding buildings, and none of the pedestrians paid me any attention.
I plodded to the parking lot, then trailed to halt. My pulse accelerated to a rapid thudding.
My car was gone.
I shook my head vigorously. Take a breath. Double-check. You’re tired, maybe you didn’t park in the usual spot…
I scanned the rows of vehicles. No blue Legacy…
My gaze lit on the shiny black Expedition two rows over and I let out a grunt of chagrin. “Moron,” I mumbled, and fished Kane’s keys out of my jacket pocket.
I had almost made it to the safety of the SUV when a low venomous voice spoke from close behind me.
“You’re going to pay!”
Chapter 38
I spun, my trank pistol already in my hand before I recognized Brock’s scowling face.
He paled and took a rapid step backward.
Hoping he thought it was my Glock, I slid it into my jacket pocket in case of passersby and pointed the pocket theatrically at him. Getting any kind of decent shot off even with the Glock would have been damn near impossible, but I was hoping he didn’t know that.
“What the hell is your problem?” I snapped.
His lips twisted in an ugly grimace. “You. You’re my problem. Spreading lies about me.”
An incredulous laugh burst from my lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Me spreading lies about you? You got that backward, you little turd-burglar.”
“You must have told Stemp I was trying to kill you,” he hissed. “He just finished interrogating me about my movements for the past week. You’ll be sorry for that!”
He’d never know how lucky he was that my emotions were currently encased in several layers of ice. Instead of violent rage, I achieved only intense irritation.
I grabbed his scarf and twisted hard. “Bring it, dickbreath,” I barked in his face. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Any time you want to dance, little man, you just name the time and place.” He was making gur
gling noises and clutching my wrist, so I released him with a shove that sent him staggering.
“Now get lost,” I growled. “And if you threaten me again, I’ll put a bullet in your brain and pretend it was an accident.”
It probably wasn’t the brightest thing I ever did, but I turned my back on him. I got in the SUV and drove away, leaving him practically dancing with rage in the parking lot.
When Kane’s garage door rolled down behind me I drew a long breath.
Put on the game face.
I could do this.
At the back door of his house, I hesitated. Should I ring the doorbell?
No, that was silly. If we were going to get m…
Terror seized me and I breathed through it. Okay, too soon for the m-word.
If we were together now…
Breathe, breathe…
…then I should probably walk right in…
The door swung open and I yelped and sprang back.
Kane twitched, too. Then he smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought I heard the garage door.” He stepped out on the back porch and pulled me into his arms for a lingering kiss.
I managed not to tense up, and he drew me into the house with his arm around my shoulders. The door closed behind me with a quiet thump of finality, making me suck in a shaky breath.
Kane dropped another light kiss on my lips before taking my hand to tow me toward the kitchen. “You must be starving,” he said. “You hardly ate anything for breakfast.”
“No, I’m fine. Jack and I had an early lunch…”
In the nick of time my exhausted brain identified the aromas that filled the air. Bacon. Coffee. A caramelized-sugar scent that reminded me of…
We turned the corner into the kitchen.
Waffles. Oh, shit.
The disappointment in Kane’s eyes made me hurriedly add, “…but I just sat there and watched her eat because I wasn’t that hungry. But it smells so good in here, now I’m starving! Are those homemade Belgian waffles? Yum!”
His smile returned. “I have fresh strawberries and whipped cream for them in the fridge. And I’m just going to make the hollandaise sauce for our Eggs Benedict. It’ll only take a few minutes, but I didn’t want to start it until you got home.”
“Oh, wow!” I hugged him and planted a kiss on his lips. “This is fabulous! Thank you!”
Kane squeezed me in return and I couldn’t prevent a little squeak of panic, but fortunately he didn’t notice. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said with a smile. “When we’re both working again I’ll only have time to make brunch on weekends.”
He released me and headed for the fridge, and I swallowed hard to get my voice back in working order. “Well, gee,” I teased. “Brunch only on weekends? I don’t know; I might have to rethink this deal. I was expecting gourmet treats for every meal.”
He laughed and got busy with his saucepan and whisk.
The cozy domestic scene closed around me like a straitjacket and I backed away. “I’d better call Arnie about his new information,” I croaked. “I’ll just use the phone in the other room.”
Without waiting for his reply, I fled to the relative freedom of the living room. Clutching the phone, I perched on the edge of the leather sofa and concentrated on my breathing.
In. Out. Slow like ocean waves.
No more eating meals whenever and however I chose. I had to consider Kane now.
The screaming started again in the back of my brain, but I banished it to silence.
Shut up. Kane was a fabulous cook and I was incredibly lucky to be with him. It was just a bit of an adjustment. I’d just have to get in the habit of checking with him before I ate.
Before I ate anything ever again…
For the rest of my life…
My pulse hammered in my temples and I fought back the incipient panic attack.
Settle down.
Breathe.
I eased out a long breath, my heart still pounding. Just get over it, for chrissake.
I wouldn’t go back on my promise to Kane, and fighting constant panic attacks was stupid. It was long past time I dealt with my shit. If I wasn’t doing better in a couple of days I’d talk to Dr. Rawling…
The thought of admitting my weakness to him nearly choked me with renewed panic.
I clenched my fists and breathed.
Calm down…
I took yoga breaths until I thought I could fake a normal voice, and then dialled Hellhound’s cell phone.
He picked up on the second ring with a gruff, “Yeah.”
“Uh… hi, Arnie. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
The gruffness vanished. “Oh, hey, darlin’, how ya doin’? Nah, now’s fine. I just saw Kane’s number on the call display an’ thought it was him.”
“No…”
I tried to tell him about Kane and me but the words wouldn’t come.
“I’m, um… still here,” I said instead. “He wouldn’t take me home last night.”
“Prob’ly a good thing. Ya didn’t sound so good last night. Did ya get warmed up? How ya feelin’ today?”
“Fine,” I said with determination, and changed the subject. “John said you called this morning?”
“Yeah, Weasel got some more details. Nothin’ more on the buyer. Nobody’s seen him around before so maybe he’s new in town. But he was definitely talkin’ to Drake Mallard last Wednesday evenin’ around eight. An’ word is that Mallard stiffed the guy and took off with the deposit so everybody was laughin’ behind his back when he hired another guy yesterday afternoon. Guy’s name was Norman Perkins. Ring a bell?”
My heart gave a thump. “Yesterday afternoon? What time?”
“Weasel didn’t say exactly, just afternoon.”
Around three-forty-five, maybe…
“Um, where did the transaction take place?”
“Tony’s Bar. It’s a dive close to downtown.”
“Do they have live music there?”
Hellhound hesitated, and I imagined his frown. “Hell, darlin’, I dunno. Is it important?”
I sighed. “Maybe. I’ll have to check the timeframe for the first transaction before I know for sure. And Stemp gave me the ID on the dead guy this morning. Norman Perkins, ta-da. Has our guy hired anybody else?”
“Not that Weasel knew. All he heard was laughin’ about how Perkins probl’y fucked off with the guy’s deposit just like Mallard did.”
“Oh, he fucked off all right,” I said grimly. “Permanently.” I shuddered involuntarily, making my voice waver on the last word.
Hellhound’s voice softened. “Sounds like it was pretty bad. Wanna talk about it?”
I drew an unsteady breath. “No, I’m fine.”
“Ya don’t sound fine. Come on, darlin’, talk to me.”
The previous night already seemed fuzzy and distant, the trauma of the flashback diminished by the sheer panic I was fighting at the moment. But I couldn’t say that to Arnie.
I’d be better by tomorrow. A bit more sleep, and then I’d be ready to face him…
“Aydan? Come on, darlin’,” he coaxed.
Dammit, he knew I was covering up. I’d have to tell him something.
I took a deep breath. “I… It was pretty bad. He fell onto some rebar in my garage and…” I sucked in another breath. “It went right through him like a… a bug on a specimen board. I…”
I had to stop and swallow before continuing, “I had a flashback and completely lost it. Shot him with nine darts and the only reason it wasn’t all ten was because I was waving the damn gun around like I was fighting off a swarm of bees. And then the aerosolized trank knocked me out.”
I explored the tender spot on the back of my head with my fingertips and added, “Stemp got the autopsy report this morning. When he found out how many times I shot Perkins he just about locked me up, but I talked him out of it.”
“Aw, shit, darlin’.” Hellhound’s soft rasp wrapped around me like a hug and I squeeze
d my eyes closed and huddled into its comfort. “Aydan,” he said gently. “Maybe ya oughta think about goin’ to the safe house for a little while. Two flashbacks in a day, that ain’t good. I know you’re tough as nails, darlin’, but ya can’t keep this up. You’re gonna break if ya try.”
A single despairing sob escaped me before I clamped my lips shut.
Too late for that.
Get over it.
I used my best fake-normal voice. “I’m okay, Arnie. It was a tough day yesterday, but neither of those things are likely to happen again, so there shouldn’t be any more triggers for me. And…” I hesitated, not capable of lying to him but not quite able to tell the truth yet. “…John’s going to stay with me tonight…”
And forever more…
I fought my way through the incipient panic attack and finished levelly, “…so that’ll be just as good as going to a safe house.”
Hellhound let out a breath. “I’m glad he’s gonna be lookin’ out for ya ‘til I get there. Are ya sure you’re okay?”
“Positive,” I lied. I even sounded convincing.
“Good. Listen, darlin’, I gotta go; I’m meetin’ one a’ my clients. See ya tomorrow mornin’. I’ll get to your place around ten so we can be at the parade grounds by ten-thirty. Get some rest, okay? Ya still sound pretty rough.”
“Thanks, Arnie, I will. See you tomorrow.”
I clicked off the handset and folded over my aching chest to rest my forehead on my knees.
No-no-no-no…
“Aydan? What’s wrong?” Kane’s voice was quick with concern as he hurried over to crouch beside me. “Are you sick?”
I twitched and jerked upright, rearranging my face into a sheepish smile. “No, I’m fine. I guess I just dropped off for a minute. I’m still really tired.”
“Oh.” His worried expression eased. “Well, brunch is ready. You can go back to bed afterward if you want.”
“I might just do that. But I can hardly wait to taste all the goodies you made! Mmm, it smells so fabulous in here!” I plastered an eager expression on my face. “First I have to make a quick call to Stemp, though.” I grimaced. “I’m going nuts without my waist pouch. Do you have a secured phone handy?”
Spy Away Home (The Never Say Spy Series Book 10) Page 29
