Tell Me No Spies

by Diane Henders

  “…maybe pay stubs from somewhere else or something,” I finished lamely. “Sorry, guys. That was a total waste of gas and time and nervous energy.”

  “Never mind, Aydan, you had to try,” Dave said. “What’ll we do now?”

  I squinted at my watch in the dimness of the mall parkade where we’d hidden since our return to Calgary. “It’s supper time, I need to make some phone calls, and I’m not planning to eat any of that potato salad that’s been festering in the trunk since this morning. I’ll go into the mall, get us something from the food fair, and make my calls from a pay phone.”

  “Not by yourself, ya ain’t,” Arnie said. I didn’t get a chance to protest before he continued with resignation, “You’re up, Dave. Don’t let her outta your sight.”

  “I won’t,” Dave promised.

  Inside the mall, I huddled deeper into the hood of my jacket, feeling as though I had a flashing red light attached to my head. I slouched along beside Dave, head down, hoping to look like a sullen teenage son. Jeez, please don’t let him decide to cuddle up to me now.

  Fortunately, Dave seemed to catch the vibe. He kept his hands in his pockets and gave me appropriate space.

  The pay phones were conveniently located right beside the food court, and I made a beeline directly for them. When Dave hovered, I shot him a look from under my hood.

  “Go get some food,” I muttered. “I’ll be a few minutes here.”

  He glanced worriedly over his shoulder. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “You’re not leaving me, you can keep me in sight while you stand in line,” I argued. “Just go, okay?”

  He shuffled uncertainly, frowning, before he blew out a breath and squared his shoulders. “…’Kay.”

  I turned my attention to the phones and swore. Three out of the four numbers on my list were long-distance. And I couldn’t use my credit card.

  I spotted Dave’s receding back in the crowd and considered calling him back, but there was no way we’d have enough change between the two of us to make even one long-distance call.

  I rolled my stiff neck and shoulders, trying to release the tension. Fine. I could make the local call, anyway. That was a start. I plugged in the coins and dialled.

  Long minutes later, I clenched the phone receiver tighter in my sweaty fist. I’d grossly underestimated the logistics of phoning up one of my dad’s old high-school friends and catching up on three goddamn decades. My heart leaped into overdrive at the sight of Dave’s panicked expression as he forged through the suppertime crowd toward me, takeout bags apparently forgotten in his hand.

  “Sorry, my call’s out of time, nice talking to you,” I blurted, and hung up fast.

  “Cops!” Dave hissed. “Showing your picture over at the other phones!” He threw a wild glance over his shoulder. “Coming this way! Run!”

  Pulse pounding, I scanned the food fair. Running would be crazy. They’d spot me instantly. I did the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment.

  “Come and get me when they’re gone,” I told Dave, and strolled into the men’s washroom.

  Inside, I kept my eyes on the floor and shuffled rapidly into a mercifully vacant cubicle. Then I sat and jittered on the toilet, trying not to listen to the noises around me.

  It seemed like hours later when a tap on the cubicle door made me jump.

  Dave’s gruff and welcome voice came from the other side of the door. “Come on. What’re you doing in there, anyway?”

  I pitched my voice lower and hoped it wouldn’t tremble. “What do you think, Dad? Jeez!”

  “Well, hurry up. We gotta go.”

  “All right. Jeez.”

  His mutter receded. “Damn kid’s probably doing drugs in there.”

  The resulting male murmur of sympathy was cut off by the sound of my flush, and I slouched out of the cubicle to wash my hands, head down. My hands were barely dry when Dave grabbed my arm and pushed me ahead of him out the door. I jerked petulantly out of his grasp and did my best surly teenage shuffle out of the mall beside him.

  Back at the car, I dropped into the back seat and sprawled limply, trying to get my breathing under control. Hellhound pried the takeout bags out of Dave’s fist and eyed us both with concern.

  “What the hell happened?” he demanded.

  Dave took a few deep breaths and massaged the centre of his chest. “Cops. Looking for Aydan. Had her picture and everything.”

  “Shit!” Hellhound swivelled a glare around the parkade. “Why aren’t ya drivin? Get us the hell outta here!”

  “It’s okay,” Dave said. “They gave up and left.” His sweaty pallor was relieved by the flush that climbed his face. “They weren’t gonna look for her where she was hiding.”

  Hellhound glanced from Dave’s face to the smile that was forming on mine. The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Where?”

  I gave him the full grin. “Men’s can.”

  He snickered. “Woulda liked to’ve seen that.”

  I heaved myself up to pat Dave’s shoulder. “Nice work, Dave. You were perfect. What happened?”

  Dave grinned, relaxing. “When you went into the can, I just sat down and started eating. They went around asking everybody, but it was a picture of you with your long hair, so nobody’d seen you. Cops finally just gave up and left.”

  I turned to Arnie. “You should have seen him playing the grumpy dad, pretending I was his no-good kid. He was great.”

  Dave groaned and massaged his stomach. “Just ate three burgers, though, ‘cause I was afraid to just sit there doing nothing. Feel like shi… crap.”

  Hellhound grinned and offered him a fist bump. “Sometimes ya gotta take one for the team. Way to go.”

  Dave sat up straighter and beamed while Arnie and I devoured our meals.

  “One thing I don’t get, though,” I mumbled through a mouthful of burger. “Why would they be looking for me in a mall? They can’t be looking all over the city for me, can they? No way the city police would have time for that.” I met Hellhound’s frown. “Would they?” I asked.

  “Nah.” His scowl deepened. “But it couldn’t be coincidence. Maybe they’re tappin’ the phones? Did ya say your name or anythin’?”

  “Well, yeah, I had to say my name, but… they couldn’t tap all the phones all over the city, could they?”

  Hellhound swallowed the last of his burger and crushed the bag into a ball. “Fuck if I know. Sure as hell looks like it, though.”

  I sighed. “Yeah.”

  Dave glanced nervously around the parkade. “Now what?”

  I consulted my watch. “It’s eight o’clock. Just enough time to go and see if Spider’s online yet before Arnie meets his contact.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “I think a library this time,” I said. “That internet cafe was too small. If I hadn’t had Weasel with me, I’d have gotten caught for sure. At least the library gives me more places to hide.”

  “Okay.” Dave backed the car out and headed for the exit.

  I pondered while we drove.

  Arnie twisted around in the seat. “What’re ya thinkin’ about?” he inquired. “Ya got that look again.”

  “I’m thinking about how Richardson showed up minutes after I made contact last time. That makes me nervous.”

  “Yeah,” Arnie said. “Think Webb’s trackin’ ya?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he told Kane what we were doing, and then he’d pretty well have to help them track us.”

  “Can’t risk doing this again, then,” Dave said.

  “I have to.”

  “No, ya don’t,” Hellhound said. “Lemme go see my guy tonight first.”

  “No. That would be stupid if Spider already has the information we need. No way I want you going in again for nothing.”

  “Aydan…” Hellhound began, but I cut him off.

  “Look, I’ll be quick. Last time I dawdled around searching those names after I talked to Spider.” I blew ou
t a sigh while we waited at the red light across from the library. “This time, I’ll just get in and get out. No way Richardson will have enough time to get here.”

  Dave shot me an uneasy glance in the rearview mirror. “You sure?”

  “I’m positive. It takes time to track an IP address,” I said with more hope than certainty. “And then they’d have to get in touch with Richardson, and he’d still have to drive over here.”

  Hellhound scowled but didn’t argue, and Dave drove into the parking lot.

  “Dave, can you park somewhere where the car can be seen from a window?” I asked.

  We all scanned for a parking spot. “What’s your plan, darlin’?” Arnie inquired.

  “This time, I want to leave you in the car, ready to drive, and put Dave next to the window where he can see you. Ideally, we find a spot where Dave can also see the entrance. Then he can signal me if there’s anything funny going on, and I can have a bit of advance warning.”

  “But I don’t know this Richardson guy,” Dave said. “How will I know whether to signal you or not? And how would I signal you anyway?”

  “I know Richardson an’ a coupla Kane’s other guys, too,” Arnie volunteered. “I can signal Dave if I see anybody I recognize.”

  “That’ll work. Dave, you can just, I don’t know, sneeze or something. I won’t be able to watch you because I’ll have to keep my eyes on the screen.”

  “Sneeze?” he asked doubtfully. “Okay…”

  “There.” Arnie pointed. “Good spot just opened up.”

  Dave wheeled the car into it, and we all took stock of the sight lines.

  “That’ll work,” Arnie said with satisfaction. “Ya sure ya don’t want me to come in with ya?”

  “No, you’re still a little too, um, distinctive.” I eyed his blackened face in the orange glow of the streetlights. The grubby bandage on his forehead added to his disreputable appearance.

  He grinned, his face still asymmetrical from his swollen cheek. “Hey, my shirt’s clean. Not like ol’ Dave, Mr. South-End-Of-A-Northbound-Bear.”

  I couldn’t help an involuntary glance at Dave, who flushed but kept silent, apparently recognizing the truth of the sobriquet. The trip through the woods hadn’t done anything to enhance his appearance or his smell. With his torn, grimy clothes, gray-stubbled chin, wild hair, and Eau de B.O., he could easily have passed for a homeless person. And in fact, I realized, that was exactly what he was at the moment.

  Hell, we all were. I regarded my own dirt-smudged jeans and T-shirt with disgust. I probably didn’t smell any better. And my hair was starting to itch.

  I shuddered. Definitely another trip to the gym tomorrow.

  Chapter 32

  The library staff watched us suspiciously after we entered. I could hardly blame them. I’d probably be wary of a couple of vagrants, too.

  I stationed Dave near the window, within earshot of the computer terminals. “Here,” I whispered, and handed him a book. “Just lean against the shelf with the book open and turn a page occasionally. Watch the door, and watch Arnie for a signal. Sneeze if I need to get out of here.”

  He eyed me worriedly. “…’Kay. Don’t know how good a sneeze it’ll be, though.”

  “It doesn’t have to be good, Dave, just loud.”

  He nodded and took up his position, leaning against the bookshelf with all the casual grace of a wooden board. I considered telling him to relax, but then decided he actually looked quite authentic. Exactly like a homeless guy who was trying to look nonchalant while he warmed up in the library. I gave a mental shrug and made for the computers.

  Luck was with me this time, and I slid into the chair in front of an unoccupied terminal immediately. I’d just logged into the World of Warcraft site when an explosive sneeze made me jerk around in my chair. I had half-risen, heart pounding, when Dave caught my eye and frantically shook his head. He jabbed his chin toward the table next to him, where a large man with a florid complexion was busily plying a handkerchief.

  I subsided into my chair, air hissing out from between my teeth, and tried to release some of the tension from my shoulders. My hands shook while I navigated the site.

  I was perusing the players when another sneeze rattled the windows. I stifled a curse and twisted around, but the angle was wrong and I had to stand again before I saw Dave’s disgusted headshake.

  The woman at the adjacent terminal shot me a curious glance as I settled back into the chair, clenching my teeth on the profanity that begged for utterance.

  My back crawled with expectant tension, but silence reigned, and I turned back to the screen to find Spider’s character.

  Whisper. “Spider.”

  “come in now! J trying to get you!”

  “Same old, same old,” I muttered. “I know,” I typed. “Have you found N or D yet?”

  “no. come in now!”

  “Is K all right?”

  “Atchoo!”

  I sprang to my feet again, feeling like the star of a Whack-A-Mole game and hoping the mallet wasn’t about to crush my head. A brief but glorious vision of twisting the big guy’s nose off evaporated at the sight of Dave’s frightened face. I bit back an obscenity and made for the concealment of the bookshelves nearest the door.

  My heart leaped into my throat at the sight of the two uniformed police officers striding through the entrance. I pulled my hood up over my head and loitered beside the stacks, head down while I watched from under my brows.

  The two officers split up, heading directly for the two pods of computer stations. As soon as their backs were turned, I eased out the door and scuttled across the parking lot, keeping my face averted.

  As I slid trembling into the passenger seat of the Caprice, Hellhound swore, and I followed his gaze to Dave, who was clearly visible with his back pressed against the library window. The two policemen loomed over him. While we watched, he shook his head vehemently, and one of the officers frowned and took him by the arm.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I chanted. “Shit! Goddammit…”

  “Get down!” Hellhound yanked my shoulders toward him, and I toppled onto the seat, my head in his lap.

  “What’s happening?” I demanded.

  “They got him.” A suspenseful pause. “They’re bringin’ him out. We gotta go.” He reached across me for the shifter, then stopped. “Wait a minute.”

  “What?” I hissed. “Tell me what’s happening!”

  “They’re just talkin’ to him. An’ lookin’ around the parkin’ lot. I don’t wanna drive away now, or they’ll see us for sure. Just stay down.”

  I peered up at his intent face, barely breathing, and he glanced down at me with a leer. “While you’re down there, darlin’…”

  “I don’t think so. Getting arrested would be bad enough. I don’t intend to get caught playing the skin flute into the bargain.”

  His head snapped back up to watch the action outside again, and he spoke absently. “Why not, darlin’, it’d make a helluva good story afterwards. An’ it’d make me happy. Wait, what the hell?”

  “What, what!”

  He didn’t reply immediately, and I clamped a hand on a sensitive area of his anatomy. “Tell me what’s happening, now! Or else!”

  “Easy, darlin’, ya do any damage down there an’ you’re gonna miss it as much as I do.” He paused. “They’re leavin’. Gettin’ in their car now.”

  “Oh, no, they’ve arrested Dave?” I wailed. “Shit, shit…”

  “No, they let him go. Shit, Dave, let ‘em get outta the parkin’ lot first…”

  “Oh…” The air whooshed out of me. “Thank God.”

  “That’s it, Dave,” Hellhound coached aloud. “Let ‘em drive away before ya come over here… Just a little longer…” He relaxed. “They’re gone.”

  The rear door opened and closed, and Hellhound wasted no time in driving away. I belatedly relinquished my hold on his crotch, and he shot a grin down at me.

  “Damn, Dave, ya coulda taken
a little longer. It’s okay, darlin’, ya can sit up now. Unless ya wanna stay down there an’ play with my stickshift some more.”

  I sat up and twisted around to face Dave, whose blush was visible even in the semi-darkness. “What happened? What did they want?” I demanded.

  Dave massaged the centre of his chest, gasping. “You. They described you. Lady at the computers told them she saw us come in together. I told them I didn’t know you, you just gave me fifty bucks to watch out the window and then you left. Shi… crap, thought they were gonna arrest me, but they just gave me directions to the homeless shelter.”

  Hellhound laughed. “Lucky ya got that homeless look goin’ for ya… shit!”

  He seized a handful of my jacket and yanked me down again.

  “Demanding, aren’t you?” I mumbled into his lap.

  “That was Mark Richardson. Again,” Hellhound growled. “That sure as hell ain’t coincidence.”

  My heart stopped. “Did he recognize you?”

  “Nah. He was lookin’ around the sidewalks an’ the parkin’ lot, not at the traffic.”

  I blew out a long breath and tried to stop shaking.

  Hellhound chuckled. “If you’re tryin’ to blow me, you’re doin’ it wrong.”

  “Very funny. Can I sit up yet?”

  He glanced around warily. “Better stay down there for a bit. I wanna get farther away from the centre of attention here.”

  He drove a few minutes longer, making several turns, before speaking again. “Okay, ya should be fine now.”

  I sat up and finger-combed the hair out of my face, peering anxiously at the passing traffic.

  “Did ya find out anythin’, darlin’?” Arnie asked.

  “Not much. They still haven’t found Nichele or Dante. I asked if Kane was still okay, but I didn’t stick around to get the answer.”

  I blew out a disheartened sigh. “There’s no way that was coincidence. There was just enough time for Spider to trace the IP address and make a call to the police. And to Richardson. I hope he wasn’t lying to me about Nichele and Dante. He was really trying to get me to come in.”

  I slumped in the seat and rubbed my hands over my face. “We’re pretty much out of luck for any more communication with Spider, I guess. The next time we talk to him, we’d better have some information about Nichele, because we’re not going to be able to keep dodging him. He’s too smart, and they’re reacting too fast.”