Tell Me No Spies

by Diane Henders

  I massaged my aching temples. “I guess I was. Sorry. What is Gordon doing these days?”

  “He’s still working for the government.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Something with the Department of Agriculture, he says. Frankly, I have my doubts.” She leaned forward again, her blind eyes alight. “I would never spread gossip, but… I believe he may be doing something… unsavoury.”

  My heart sped up. Finally, I was getting somewhere. “Unsavoury, how?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know. I wouldn’t spread rumours.” Something about the prim set of her mouth made me think she sure as hell would. I’d known Aunt Minnie for a long time.

  I leaned forward to whisper. “I heard he wasn’t really working for the Department of Agriculture at all.”

  Minnie leaned avidly in my direction. “He’s not!”

  “Really!” I didn’t have to feign breathless interest. “What’s he doing?”

  “I think he’s a smuggler!”

  Shit. Now she was just making things up. I tried to hide my disappointment.

  “Really? Why?”

  “I caught him unpacking his briefcase one day when he’d been away on what he called ‘business’.” She paused dramatically. “There was a gun in his briefcase! Why would he need that if he wasn’t doing something shady?”

  A very good question indeed.

  I started as the nurse bustled into the room without knocking. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to end your visit now. Minnie tires easily, and we have to get her to the dining room.” She briskly unfolded the wheelchair from the corner of the room and wheeled it next to the bed. “Come on, dearie, let’s take you to the toidy, and then we’ll go for din-din.”

  Gag me.

  I fled.

  Chapter 14

  I sucked in the fresh air with relief when I finally stepped out of the gloomy reception area and into the sunshine. Sinking down on a bench next to the door, I dropped my backpack between my feet so I could massage my temples with both hands. All that effort for a few dubious shreds of gossip.

  What the hell was I going to do now? If the information I needed still existed at all, it was probably only accessible through the Sirius network. That was eight hundred miles away, and I seriously doubted I’d be welcomed back with open arms.

  I jerked upright at the sound of approaching feet and let out a long breath when I realized who it was. “Dave! I thought you were leaving.”

  He sat on the bench beside me and surveyed my face. “Didn’t go well?”

  “No.”

  I sank my head into my hands again and replayed what I knew. Dad had carried a gun. On ‘business’. Protecting my future. And he’d died of a heart attack, just like my husband Robert. But that had been ten years ago. Surely it was coincidence. Mom killed in a fiery car crash, her body unidentifiable. Cars don’t just catch fire and explode when they hit something. That only happens in the movies. And Uncle Roger had died of a heart attack, too…

  No, now I was just reaching. Lots of people die of heart attacks. Please, God, tell me I’m just reaching.

  I shook myself and sat up straight. I still had boxes of Dad’s old farm records and business papers I’d never had the heart to go through. I’d need to go home and dig through them to see if they contained any clues.

  But before I did that, I needed to know if Kane was on my trail. By now he might have questioned Nichele and told her I was missing. She probably would’ve heard from Dante, too. I winced. Try not to think about that.

  Maybe Nichele could tell me what was going on, pump Kane for information in the guise of a concerned friend…

  Dave’s voice interrupted my cogitations. “What now?”

  “Now, I make a phone call.”

  Dave loitered outside the booth while I dialled Nichele’s business line, thankful for her toll-free number.

  “Nichele Brown.”

  For a change, I passed up the chance to tease her about the crisp business voice she adopted for her stable of well-heeled clients. I cut to the chase instead.

  “Nichele, it’s Aydan.”

  “Hold on.”

  “Wait!”

  Too late. Vapid on-hold music warbled in my ear.

  Seconds later, she was back, whispering into the phone. “Aydan, I’ve been trying and trying to call you. Where are you?”

  “In the wind. Nichele-”

  “Aydan, you’ve got to help me, I’m in so much trouble!” Coldness squeezed my heart. Nichele never admitted she was in trouble.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “James.”

  “Oh, God. What is it?”

  “Aydan, he’s going to kill me.” Her voice came out in a whimper, and fear flooded me. Nichele never whimpered.

  “Call the police, Nichele. Right away!”

  “I can’t. He’ll kill me.” She drew in a ragged breath. “He must have hacked into my laptop when I took him home. And then he hit me when I confronted him…”

  “Goddammit, Nichele, run! Get out of there.”

  “I can’t. He’s watching me. He followed me to work today…”

  Silence on the line made my heart skip a beat. “Nichele!” I hissed. “Nichele, are you okay?”

  When she spoke again, it was in a rapid whisper. “He’s drained all my clients’ assets into an offshore account and set it up to look like I did it. I saw more transfers today, and I bet he’s laundering money through there, too. I’ll go to jail if it comes to light. And he swore he’d kill me if I went to the police. Aydan, I’m so screwed!”

  “Hang on, Nichele. We’ll figure it out. Just keep doing as he says. Stay safe. It’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t tell anybody! Promise you won’t tell a soul! If James finds out I told…”

  “I won’t tell anybody, Nichele. We can fix this. It’ll be okay,” I lied, trying to sound confident.

  “But, Aydan, where are you? What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll figure it out. I’m coming. Just hang on. Don’t worry.”

  “Okay.” Her voice was a tiny squeak.

  I hung up and beat my head against the side of the phone booth. It took a moment before I realized Dave was talking to me. “Jane! Jane, what’s wrong?”

  I looked into his worried face and gulped. “Dave, I need to ask you a huge favour.”

  Back in the truck, Dave continued the argument we’d begun on the sidewalk. “That’s nuts. You just got away.”

  “I know, but she’s my best friend, and he’s a dangerous sonuvabitch. He said he’d kill her, and I believe it.”

  “And your ex will kill you.”

  “My ex looks like Mother Theresa next to this guy. I’ve got to get back to Calgary.”

  “And do what?” Dave demanded. “This is dangerous. Call the police. That’s what they’re there for.”

  “Dave, he’ll kill her if the police go anywhere near her. And they wouldn’t do anything about this anyway. If it was a violent crime in progress or something, they’d respond, but this’ll just go through their tips line. Just another thing they might get around to checking out in their spare time between real calls.”

  “Call them anyway,” he argued. “Let them decide.”

  “I don’t dare. And I kind of… can’t… anyway.”

  If Kane was looking for me, he’d have alerted the police. I really didn’t want to draw attention to myself at the moment, and I really didn’t want to take a chance on endangering Nichele. I racked my brain for a better solution.

  A fast-moving black car caught my eye as I stared out the windshield, and adrenaline shot through me. I twisted in the seat to see another black ghost car speeding toward us from the opposite direction.

  “Shit!” I dove into the sleeper and huddled on the bench.

  Dave’s gaze bounced between the action outside and my face. “Thought you said you weren’t running from the cops.”

  “Those aren’t cops.”

  “Stay back the
re.” The big diesel rumbled to life, and he pulled away slowly. “Two guys checking out that phone booth and looking around,” he reported. He guided the truck around a corner and slowed. “Road block. Get inside the bathroom. Wait’ll I give you the all-clear.”

  I ducked into the tiny bathroom as the truck stopped. I could hear Dave’s side of the conversation, but the voice from outside was blurred by the rumble of the engine.

  “Nope. No, I’d remember her.”

  “Yeah? Jeez, you wouldn’t think so.”

  “Nope.”

  “…’Kay, will do. Thanks.”

  The truck began to move again. After several minutes of driving and a lot of turns, the movement stopped and the driver’s door slammed. The cab rocked as Dave climbed down. I heard the thump and clink of chains from behind the sleeper, and then movement and the sound of the driver’s door indicated Dave’s return.

  “You can come out now.”

  I opened the door cautiously, and my heart plummeted at the sight of Dave’s hard face. A heavy iron bar slapped against his palm.

  “So, Aydan Kelly, let’s talk,” he said.

  “Dave, I’m sorry, I-”

  “They said they were cops. They said you were armed and dangerous,” he interrupted. The bar described a short arc into his palm again.

  I blew out a long breath, attempting calm while my heart tried to escape through my chest. “I’m armed. Not dangerous. Especially not to you.”

  “Show me your weapon.” His knuckles whitened on the bar as I reached down. “Slow.”

  I carefully grasped the denim just below my knee and pulled up the leg of my jeans. His face paled at the sight of the small gun snuggled in its holster at my ankle.

  “Hand it over.”

  I let the pant leg slide down and straightened slowly. “I’m sorry, Dave, I can’t do that.”

  “Then we got a problem.”

  “Yeah.” I swallowed the quaver in my voice. “You have to decide if you’re going to beat the shit out of me or not. Because I won’t fight back. I won’t shoot you.”

  “Bull.” He stepped closer and shifted to a two-handed grip on the end of the bar. “They said you killed four men. And injured two others.”

  My knees threatened to give way, and I tried to hold my voice steady. “That’s true, but-”

  I barely had time to dodge the blow. The bar glanced off my upflung arm and slammed into the door frame beside me. Thank God it was too tight a space for him to get a good backswing. The pain dropped me to my knees.

  “It’s not the whole story!” I hugged my arm and gazed up at his tense face through watering eyes. “Dave, please!”

  I jerked back and toppled against the wall as the bar whistled by again. “Dave, please, just let me go!”

  He stood with his feet planted apart, blocking my escape. The bar shook in his hands as he glared down at me, panting. “You got a gun. You just gonna let me beat you up?”

  “No, I’m going to beg you to stop and try to get away. But I won’t hurt you.”

  I cradled my damaged arm, pain shooting up to my shoulder. God, maybe it was broken. I blinked away tears and tried again. My voice came out ragged and desperate. “Please, Dave.”

  “You just said you killed four guys.”

  “Will you let me explain?”

  The muscles rippled in his forearms as he shifted his white-knuckled grasp on the iron. “Talk.”

  “The first two men kidnapped me. They beat and tortured me. They were trying to shoot me when I killed them. The third man was trying to rape me while four of his friends held me down. The last man abducted me and took me inside a house and set the house on fire. He was about to kill an innocent man when I shot him.”

  Dave’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped as I babbled.

  “What…” The bar drooped and he swallowed audibly. “What about the two you injured?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “There were five of them. They’d just shot somebody I…” I gulped as the memory rose up again. “…I cared about. A lot. At the time. I hit one in the face and broke his cheekbone and dislocated another one’s knee before they took me down.”

  Dave staggered back and dropped into the passenger’s seat, staring at me. “What the hell…? Heck, I mean. What…?” He stared blankly at the bar in his hands before dropping it as if it had burned him. “Jane… I mean, Aydan, I’m sorry, I…”

  “It’s okay, Dave, I’ll just go now. Remember, if anybody asks, I held you at gunpoint.” I dragged myself to my feet.

  “Wait!” The hand he placed on my arm was shaking almost as much as I was. “Why are they looking for you? Are these guys going to…” his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, “…rape you and torture you? If they catch you?”

  “No, they’ll probably just shoot me. I need to get out of here. You’ll be safe when I’m gone.”

  “Will you kill them?”

  “No. They’re the good guys.” I grabbed my backpack with my uninjured hand and tottered forward.

  Dave pushed himself to his feet with a sharp gasp, clutching his back. Then he straightened slowly, blocking my way. “You can’t go out there.”

  “I have to.” I tried to slip by him, but he grasped me firmly by the shoulders and pushed me down into the passenger’s seat, wincing as he bent.

  “You need help,” he said. “I’ll get you out of here.”

  “Dave, thanks, but you can’t…” Concern stabbed me at the sight of his grimace. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Put my back out, swinging that bar. Stupid.” He returned to his verbal campaign. “You can’t do it yourself. You can’t get off the island.”

  “I’ll find a way.”

  He frowned at me. “You can only go by air or ferry. They’ll catch you in airport security, and there are cameras in the ferry terminals.”

  “Shit, there are?”

  “Yeah.”

  I squirmed, trying to think of another alternative. “I could hire a boat privately.”

  “You don’t have enough money.”

  I eyed him hopefully. “You offered to lend me some.”

  He snorted. “Deal’s off. You’re stuck. You need me.”

  “Dave!” I made a fist in my hair and tugged in sheer frustration. “You don’t get it. This is dangerous shit. You could end up in jail, or dead, if you get caught in the crossfire. I’m just going to go. I’ll figure something out.”

  I reached for the door handle, but he dropped into the driver’s seat with a grunt of pain and slammed the truck into gear. “You gonna jump out of a moving vehicle?”

  I sighed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  He shot an avid glance in my direction. “What happened that time?” When I remained silent, he added, “You owe me.”

  I groaned. “Dave, you’re right, I owe you big-time, but I can’t tell you anything.”

  He took the exit for the Pat Bay Highway and studied me out of the corner of his eye while he drove. “You’re some kinda big-time spy. Like James Bond or something.” He glanced over. “That’s why you said your name was Jane. Jane Bond, right?”

  “No.” I studied the purpling bruise on my forearm and slowly flexed my fingers. Good, not broken after all. The pain was subsiding into a throbbing ache.

  “Look,” he said. “I’m gonna help you whether you want it or not. So you might as well tell me what’s happening.”

  “Dave, you don’t know what you’re getting into. Just drop me off and forget you ever saw me.”

  “Are you kidding?” He shot me a grin, his face alight. “Guns and black cars and Jane Bond? This is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Chapter 15

  I clasped my aching head. “Dave…”

  “Who were those guys? Why are they trying to kill you?”

  “I don’t know if they’re trying to kill me or not. They might just have orders to capture me.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t tell you.�
��

  “You said your ex was chasing you.”

  “Yeah, that, too.”

  “Those guys are his friends?”

  “Co-workers, probably.”

  He threw a frown in my direction. “They really cops?”

  “Yeah. Kind of.”

  “You said you weren’t running from the cops.”

  I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I’m not. Not exactly.”

  “Exactly what, then?”

  “You’re not going to let this rest, are you?”

  “Heck, no.” He grinned at me again. “We got another couple hours before we get back to the mainland. And another twelve hours tomorrow on the way back to Calgary.”

  I slumped in the seat and dropped my head back against the headrest. “Shit. Okay. You win.” I tried to organize a story that would answer his questions without telling him anything secret.

  “I’m… a witness. They need me for a case. I’ve been working with them, but I just found out that the guy I’ve been working with…”

  “Your ex?” he interrupted.

  “Yeah, kind of. We… I liked him, and I thought he liked me, but I just found out he killed my husband, and he’s been lying to me all this time.”

  “He killed your husband?” Dave gaped at me, his eyes round, and I grabbed for the steering wheel as the truck swerved. He jerked his gaze back to the road, blinking rapidly. “But you said he was a cop.”

  “He said my husband was a criminal and he had to kill him.”

  “Was he?”

  “I…” Somehow, I’d never questioned what Kane had told me. What if he’d been lying about that, too? “I honestly don’t know.”

  “So you think he might kill you, too?”

  “He wouldn’t have, before. Well, I don’t think so, anyway. But he might have orders to now.”

  “But you said they needed you. You’re their witness.”

  I sighed. “It’s complicated. They might have decided they don’t need me that badly anymore.”

  He gave me a sympathetic glance. “That why you ran?”

  “No. But…” I swallowed hard. “I think they might have killed the rest of my family, too. I have to know.”

  “What?” He was gaping at me again.