Tell Me No Spies

by Diane Henders

  Dave eyed me unhappily. “You sure this is a good idea?”

  “It’s the only idea I’ve got.”

  Chapter 19

  “Okay, we need this to work the first time,” I said. “I don’t want to be seen by any more people than absolutely necessary.” I turned to Dave. “You need to convince one of these guys to take me into Calgary.”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “What should I say?”

  “I don’t know. Tell them whatever they want to hear. Tell them I’m a trucker groupie and a great lay, I don’t know, whatever it takes.”

  Dave flushed. “I ain’t gonna say that.”

  “Would it work?”

  “Probably,” he muttered. “But I ain’t gonna say that about you. It ain’t respectful.”

  “Hell, Dave, I don’t care. Do you have any other ideas?”

  He scowled at the floor. “No.”

  “Then let’s do it. Make sure you pick an older guy without a wedding ring.”

  Hellhound laughed. “Trust me, darlin’, the way you’re bustin’ outta that top, it ain’t gonna matter.”

  We left Hellhound hiding in the sleeper and wandered across the asphalt, covertly surveying the other truckers.

  I nudged Dave. “What about that guy?” He was practically a clone of Dave, but with a little less gut and a lot less hair. Same nondescript jeans and T-shirt, but his elaborately tooled cowboy boots made a strong fashion statement.

  “Okay,” Dave mumbled. “Hey,” he greeted the other man as we approached.

  “Hey,” Cowboy responded. His face brightened as his eyes veered in my direction. His gaze travelled up, down, up, and reluctantly back over to Dave when he spoke.

  “This is Jane. She needs a ride to Calgary.”

  Cowboy stuck his thumbs in his belt loops and rocked back on his heels. “Would if I could, but you know, regs.”

  I shot Dave a look and drifted away, watching out of the corner of my eye. He leaned confidentially toward the other man, his face reddening as he spoke. Cowboy gave a bark of laughter and punched Dave on the shoulder, eyeing me with interest. A few minutes of conversation later, Dave shrugged and turned away. “Your loss,” he threw over his shoulder.

  Shit. Time for desperate measures.

  I oozed up to Dave, giving him my best sultry smile. I captured his hand in both of my own. “Dave, you’re such a sweetie,” I purred. “And I’m so sorry I put your back out last night, but you were just sooo good, I got carried away.”

  I pressed his hand into my cleavage and pulled him into a hungry kiss. Lots of tongue.

  He froze and I tightened my hold on him, transferring my lips to his ear to whisper. “Come on, Dave, work with me here.”

  “Urgh,” he said. I pulled back a fraction to look into his paralyzed face.

  Shit.

  I kissed him again and he finally reacted, his free arm closing around me while he removed his hand from my chest to run his fingers through my hair instead. His stiff lips relaxed, and he took the initiative on the next kiss. A plain vanilla kiss, but at least he didn’t look so terrified.

  At the sound of the throat clearing behind him, Dave turned, still holding me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh.” Cowboy rubbed the back of his neck. He tore his avid gaze away from me to meet Dave’s eyes. “I could take her. It’s only a few miles. Nobody’d ever know, right?”

  I gave him a hungry smile, blatantly looking him up and down. “Would you?” I breathed. “That would be… wonderful.”

  “Yeah.” He bobbed his head and his ears turned scarlet. “Yeah, I could do that. Jane.”

  “Oh, thank you!” I turned back to Dave. “Dave, sweetie, you take care of that back of yours, and save up your strength. Call me next time you’re in town, you hear? We’ll go for another little ride.”

  “You bet I will, Jane, honey.” He pulled me closer and kissed me again. The merest touch of his tongue, quickly withdrawn. He was blushing when he stepped away. “See you soon.”

  I watched him walk away before turning to Cowboy. “What’s your name?”

  “Rick.”

  It took only a little persuasion to get Rick to agree to drop me off near Kelly’s. I wasn’t sure what Dave had said to him, so I babbled for most of the drive about how wonderful Dave was. By the time we arrived in Calgary, Rick had apparently figured out that whatever Dave might or might not have gotten from me, it wasn’t being offered to him. He looked thoroughly disappointed when I thanked him profusely and hopped down from his cab.

  As soon as his truck was out of sight, I pulled my baggy sweatshirt on again. No need to attract any more attention than necessary.

  I checked my watch and made for the back door of Kelly’s. I was light-headed with hunger and adrenaline, and my hands trembled finely despite my best efforts to still them.

  Please let this work.

  Inside, I stood for a few seconds, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dingy corridor. Then I moved quietly toward the bar and peeked around the corner. At the sight of the group sprawled on the broken-down couches in the corner, I drew a huge breath of relief.

  I plastered on a smile and strode toward them.

  “Aydan! Hey, long time no see!”

  “How are you?”

  “What, we’re not good enough for you anymore, you snob?”

  “Here, grab a seat.”

  My friends called out greetings and reshuffled themselves to leave a position open on the couch with its back to the wall, my usual spot. I sank into it, gulping back unexpected emotion at the warmth of their reception and the sheer heavenly normalcy.

  The waitress stopped in her tracks. “Aydan! Where have you been? How are you?”

  “Great, Alanna, I’m great. Good to see you.”

  “Corona?”

  I sighed. “You have no idea how much I’d like a beer right now, but I can’t. I’m ‘way too hungry, and I have to drive.” I glanced around at the food-laden table. “Can you just bring me my usual?”

  “Sure, no problem.” She hurried away, and I appropriated a chicken wing from Bruce’s basket before leaning back, glancing nervously toward the entrance of the bar when a couple of patrons entered. They took seats at the front of the bar, oblivious to us, and I relaxed again.

  I took stock of the assembled group. “Hey, where’s Nichele?” I kept my voice as casual as possible.

  Jean laughed. “You know Nichele. She told me on Monday she’d be here, but she probably met some hot guy and decided to dump us.”

  “Yeah, probably,” Brenda agreed. “I was supposed to go for coffee with her Thursday night, and she stood me up. When I phoned her, she said she was sick. But she was on her cell. I’d already tried her at home and got no answer. In bed, sure, I believe that. Sick? Not so much.”

  Everyone laughed. They all knew Nichele. I did my best to join in with the ensuing banter, fear twisting my gut.

  “Try her now,” I urged Brenda. “Maybe we can convince her to come anyway.”

  Brenda dialled, listened, dialled again, listened some more. “She’s not picking up. That’s weird. She always answers her cell.”

  “Definitely in bed,” Jean grinned, and I tried to conceal my concern while the conversation veered to other matters.

  After a decent interval, I turned to Bruce. “Hey, Bruce, have you still got the Caprice?”

  He grinned. “Of course. Why? You want to borrow it?”

  “Actually, yeah, can I take you up on that?”

  He gaped theatrically at me. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No, not this time.”

  “Get out of here. You’re cheating on your beloved Saturn?”

  “My beloved Saturn is on its way to the shop.” I crossed my fingers, silently begging the car gods to forgive my lie. “The tranny started slipping a bit once I got into city traffic, and I didn’t want to take a chance. They’ll probably have it for a few days, and I could sure use some wheels.”

 
; “Well, sure, no problem,” he agreed. “We can go and pick it up right after we’re done here.”

  “Bruce, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “I know. Stop eating my wings.”

  Under other circumstances, I would have enjoyed the lengthy bullshit session with the convivial group, but my head was throbbing and my shoulders were wracked with tension by the time everybody straggled out of the bar. They lingered agonizingly on the sidewalk, and I resisted the urge to grab Bruce’s arm and hustle him over to his car.

  At last we drove away, and I relaxed a fraction in the safe anonymity of traffic. Bruce chatted cheerfully, and I did my best to hold up my end of the conversation, fervently wishing he lived a little closer to Kelly’s. When we finally stood in his garage, I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  “Here you go.” Bruce swept off the car cover with the grandiose gesture of a man unveiling a priceless treasure.

  I grinned at the sight of the clapped-out 1980 Chevy Caprice. “I like what you’ve done with the rust,” I complimented him. The half-eaten holes in the rear quarter panels had been plastered with several criss-crossing layers of duct tape, lifted and frayed along the edges.

  He grinned. “Thanks.” He tossed me the keys. “Have fun. Don’t take too many pink slips.”

  “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

  I turned the key and listened to the velvety rumble with a smile.

  My spirits lifted as I steered the car out into traffic. Phase One complete. My smile faded at the thought of Nichele’s no-show and the fact that she wasn’t answering her cell. That was definitely bad news. Unlike the others, I knew that wherever she was, she probably wasn’t enjoying herself. I really needed to find out whether Spider had made any progress.

  I steered the car toward the nearest public library. They would have free internet access, and on a Saturday afternoon Spider would almost certainly be online.

  When I went inside, though, I was dismayed to discover they required a library card before they’d let me use a terminal. I almost gave it up there and then, but decided at the last minute to simply renew my expired card.

  Hoping fervently that Kane wasn’t monitoring the library computer system, I paid the small annual fee in cash. But why would he monitor the libraries? What fugitive in her right mind would renew a library card?

  My hands were shaking by the time the renewal was complete, and I determinedly suppressed the urge to glance over my shoulder every ten seconds. At last I made for the terminals, only to find them all occupied. Tension wound up in my gut while I spent nearly twenty minutes roaming through the stacks waiting my turn.

  Approximately an eternity later one of the terminals opened up and I slid into the still-warm chair, already reaching for the keyboard.

  I’d just brought up the World of Warcraft site when a quiet voice spoke behind me. “Hold it right there.”

  Chapter 20

  I tried to gulp down my heart, which had leaped up to vibrate frantically in my throat, and turned slowly. Wild escape plans jostled through my mind.

  I locked eyes with a wizened man who was so short, we were of a height while I was seated.

  “Hold it right there,” he repeated softly but indignantly. “You’re at my station. Use that one.” He made a shaky gesture with his cane toward another station that had just been vacated.

  My heart resumed beating with a thump that made me gasp. “Sorry,” I stammered, and tottered over to the other computer as quickly as my shaking legs would carry me.

  Jeez, wouldn’t that have been a disaster. Attack some poor little old fart who just wanted to surf midget porn or something. My hands shook so much I could barely type the website address.

  In the game, I rapidly scanned for Spider’s character. There was no sign of him, and the mouse creaked under my frustrated grasp. He must be working overtime, trying to keep up with the demands of the teams that were undoubtedly searching for me right at that moment.

  I threw an involuntary glance over my shoulder as my stress level ratcheted up another notch. Nothing but the usual hush of the library. I willed the tension out of my shoulders and tried some yoga breathing. In. Out. Ocean waves.

  Too keyed up to stay any longer, I ran one last quick search before I left. And glory of glories, there he was. Whisper…

  “Spider.”

  “where r u?”

  “Any news on N?”

  “no.”

  Several heads turned as I swore slightly louder than I’d intended. “Sorry,” I muttered, and returned to my keyboard. The chat window had scrolled, and Spider had typed another message.

  “listened to recording again. who’s J?”

  Shit, I didn’t realize he didn’t know who James was. I’d just assumed Kane would know.

  I thumped my forehead. Jeez, idiot. Kane didn’t know we were doing this.

  “r u there? r u there?”

  “J is dog’s oldest brother,” I typed. “Has gang connections.”

  “thx, i’ll check it. r u & dog ok?”

  “Yes.”

  “come in b4 it’s 2 l8.”

  “Not until N’s safe. Thanks, Spider. Over & out.”

  I ignored his scrolling demands in the chat window, logged off, and cleared the cache before I left, trying not to draw attention by scuttling furtively.

  Please, please let Spider still be on my side. If Kane had told him about our run-in at the hotel and convinced him I’d gone rogue, I’d be sunk. He’d be able to use his uber-geek skills to trace the computer’s IP address back to the library in no time flat.

  I hurried out to the car and slid in, mentally thanking Bruce one more time.

  Back on the road, I shot a quick glance at my watch and groaned. Three thirty already, and I still had an hour’s drive to rejoin Dave and Arnie. My stomach growled, and I suddenly realized they must be starving. I didn’t think Dave had any food in the truck.

  I blew out a sigh, trying to release my tension along with it. One more stop.

  At the strip mall, I flew through the grocery store. As I crossed the parking lot carrying my bags, another idea occurred to me. I dumped the bags in the trunk and headed back toward the buildings.

  Twenty minutes later I was the proud owner of a baggy nondescript hooded sweatshirt. I pulled the tags off and slipped it on before I left the store, hood up.

  When I reached the city limits, I huddled deeper into the hood. A layer of tight leather, two layers of warm fleece, and a layer of sheer panic made the sweat trickle down my back while I carefully maintained the speed limit past the eagle-eyed police officers at the edge of town. They’d constricted traffic into one lane and as I watched, they flagged down a tractor-trailer and waved the driver over to the side of the road.

  Lucky they weren’t looking for a dull-blue, rusted-out junker of a Caprice. I drove on by, gaze riveted to the road.

  After an hour of driving, I bit down rising panic. I was lost. I hadn’t been paying attention to where Dave had gone in the dark of the previous night, and in the morning we’d driven north and east instead of retracing our original route.

  Goddammit, that road had to be around here somewhere.

  After another fifteen minutes of futile zigzagging on the back roads, I slapped my forehead hard enough to rattle my teeth. Retracing my route to the highway, I headed north until I found the road where we’d joined up in the morning. Then I followed the route backward. Duh.

  Dave’s truck was a beautiful sight when I crested the gentle hill at last.

  As I nosed the Caprice into the crossing, Hellhound swung out of the truck and hurried over while Dave climbed stiffly down from the driver’s side. Arnie’s arms closed around me the instant I stepped out of the car.

  “Jesus, darlin’, it took ya that long just to pick up this piece a’ shit?” he teased, but his eyes were worried and he ran a gentle hand over my hair.

  I pulled away to grin at him. “Watch your mouth. You should know better than to judge a book by its co
ver. Look at this.”

  I popped the hood and enjoyed the sight of two astonished faces. “Sleeper car,” I told them with satisfaction. “It’s the 350 with the four-barrel carb that came with the original police package. It made over two hundred and fifty horsepower before Bruce even started tinkering with it. And it’s got all the drive train and suspension upgrades. Bruce picked it up at an auction and did everything but the body. And look at this.”

  I grinned as I opened the trunk and pointed out the blue-painted steel bottle and braided steel lines.

  “Nitrous boost. Sweet,” Dave breathed. “And is that a Hurst shifter I saw? Got a racing tranny in her?”

  “Yep. She’s done to the tits.” I beamed at them. “This car’s taken more pink slips than you can count. Bruce used to make some good coin selling off the cars he won in bets, back before they cracked down on street drags.”

  I savoured the happy memories for a few seconds longer before reaching in to hand them the grocery bags. “You guys hungry?”

  “Darlin’, I love ya. Will ya marry me?” Hellhound grabbed the package of pepperoni sticks and tore the plastic off with his teeth.

  “Not a chance,” I assured him, and we exchanged a grin.

  Dave selected a package of deli roast beef and ripped into it with equal enthusiasm, if slightly more decorum. For a while, the only sound was the crackling of plastic wrappers while we perched on the trunk of the Caprice and ate.

  At last, Arnie blew out a long sigh and leaned back, reclining against the rear windshield with his arms folded behind his head. “Shit, I needed that. Don’t s’pose ya got any beer.”

  “No, sorry. That would go down nicely right now, wouldn’t it?”

  I leaned back beside him, enjoying the fading sunset and letting the day’s tension leak out of my muscles.

  Dave straightened slowly and turned to regard us. “Now what?”

  I blew out a sigh of resignation and sat up. “Now we need a plan. Spider still hasn’t been able to find Nichele.”