Sister Spy

by Laura Peyton Roberts

  “Yes,” Sydney promised. “Just you and me.”

  About half the AKX sisters were having a nighttime swim in the hotel pool when Sydney and Francie returned from the movie theater. To Sydney's surprise, Ashley was among them, stroking the length of the pool in her pink bikini, so thin that every rib showed.

  “I'm surprised she got her hair wet,” Francie whispered, following Sydney's gaze. “She'll be up all night now, fixing that perfect ‘do.' ”

  “By herself?” Sydney whispered back. “I thought it took a team.”

  Francie chuckled. “You want to go in? The water looks nice.”

  It did, but Sydney couldn't swim with her backpack on, and she wasn't about to leave it on a chair while Ashley was around.

  “I'd rather just sit here and watch you,” she replied. “Maybe drink something out of a coconut.”

  “Lazy!” Francie teased.

  “You've got that right. Are you going up to change?”

  “Yeah, but I'll hurry.”

  “If you see one of those hot hula guys on your way through the lobby, ask him if he can come out here and fan me. Maybe feed me some grapes . . . that type of thing.”

  Francie shook her head, a big grin on her face. “You've got Hawaii confused with Rome.”

  “I'm not confused,” Sydney said, grinning back.

  Francie left to put on her bathing suit. Sydney found a lounge chair, her eyes returning to the swimmers. Ashley had reached the far end of the pool, where she executed a perfect kick turn and began swimming directly toward Sydney. The girl had a good stroke, but that was no surprise. As Sydney watched, Ashley reached the shallow end, pulled her feet beneath her, and stood up, water streaming from her slicked-back hair. She wiped the chlorine from her eyes and opened them to find Sydney sitting just feet away, watching her.

  Ashley's body stiffened. Hatred flickered into her eyes before she regained control of her haughty expression. Turning back toward the deep end with a twisting half dive, she swam off again, disappearing beneath the artificial waterfall.

  “Hey! What's up?” Keisha asked, dropping onto the lounge chair next to Sydney's. “Who knew Hawaii could be so boring?”

  Sydney smiled. “Why aren't you swimming?”

  “Again?” Keisha looked pained. “There's way too much water here. I don't know why we couldn't have gone to Vegas. That's in the middle of nowhere too, but at least they have gambling.”

  “I'm not much of a gambler.”

  “You're breathing, aren't you?” Keisha stretched to emphasize her ennui. “Life is a gamble.”

  My life is, anyway, Sydney realized, glancing toward the waterfall again. Ashley still hadn't emerged from behind it.

  “Tomorrow night, we all ought to go to a club,” Keisha said. “There's got to be someplace around here that doesn't roll up its sidewalk at ten.”

  “Uh-huh,” Sydney said distractedly.

  How big could the area behind the waterfall be? Ashley had been back there long enough to call for room service.

  “I'm going to go find Roxy,” Keisha announced, standing up. “She's always good for a laugh.”

  “Okay. See ya.”

  Sydney waved as Keisha walked off—still no sign of Ashley. A dull buzzing sensation began in the pit of her stomach.

  Is she even still back there?

  There was nothing sly about sneaking off right under Sydney's nose. On the other hand, Ashley had already proven she was plenty sly. The buzzing in Sydney's gut turned into a full-fledged alarm. She rose from her chair and walked to the deep end, where she found a short tunnel leading behind the waterfall. Her heart in her throat, Sydney ducked through the tunnel. Above her head, a sheet of smooth water spilled from a rocky ledge into the swimming pool. She was standing in the sheltered spot beneath the falls, looking at the deserted back end of the pool.

  Ashley had disappeared.

  Running back out, Sydney looked all around the pool deck but saw no sign of the other spy. Half of her was desperate to find Ashley and learn what she was up to. The other half urged caution; maybe this was a trap. Ashley could be trying to lure her away, to give herself a chance at the prototype in Sydney's backpack.

  Sydney hesitated a moment longer, making sure no one was looking, then melted into the landscaping. She had a pretty good idea where Ashley had hidden her change of clothes the last time she'd left a sorority event. She couldn't resist at least checking there.

  Moving quickly, keeping to the shadows, Sydney hurried to the side of the hotel where she'd seen Ashley emerge before. But this time, instead of waiting on the street side, Sydney crept along the heavily vegetated path from the pool, every nerve on alert for the slightest sign of an ambush.

  A sudden rustle up ahead made her freeze, heart pounding. A row of hibiscus bushes close to the hotel wall had a sidewalk-width space between them and the building; the noise seemed to be coming from there. Easing her body behind a palm tree, Sydney waited.

  She didn't have to wait long.

  Within seconds, Ashley emerged from behind the bushes, dried and dressed in black. Her blond hair stood out against the darkness, then suddenly disappeared, as if a flame had been snuffed.

  She just put on that hat again, Sydney realized. I'll bet she has no clue that I'm out here!

  It appeared that Ashley was on another of her own clandestine missions.

  And I'm right behind her.

  Easing out of her hiding place, Sydney followed at a distance as Ashley made her way to the street. Near the same bus stop, she stepped into a dark doorway, disappearing from sight. Sydney hung back and waited, certain Ashley would get on the bus again. Sure enough, the moment the bus appeared, Ashley darted out of the doorway and up its stairs, taking off in a cloud of diesel. Sydney turned and ran for her rental car. She was pretty sure where Ashley was headed—and this time she intended to be there waiting.

  The road in front of the old warehouse off Hotel Street was deserted, except for a skanky-looking drunk relieving himself in the gutter. Sydney cruised the block, then decided to park down the street, where her car wouldn't be noticed. Sneaking back along the alley to the warehouse, she discovered a broken window to spy through, but found the building completely dark inside. She waited with a growing sense of apprehension, afraid she'd been wrong about Ashley's destination. Maybe her enemy had been aware of her presence after all, throwing her off by pretending to take the bus; she could have gotten off at the first stop. Sydney was starting to despair when a beam of light flashed through the empty building, accompanied by footsteps.

  She crouched lower at the window, her pulse thudding in her ears. A man was crossing the floor, but, as before, she could make out little more than baggy pants and a sweatshirt with its hood pulled tight. He walked to a packing crate near the center of the warehouse and set the flashlight down, pointed toward the front of the building. Minutes later, Ashley walked into its beam and stood blinking, one hand shading her eyes.

  “Are you alone?” he rasped.

  “Of course,” Ashley snapped. “Do you have to shine that thing right at me?”

  Her contact reached down and spun the flashlight ninety degrees, leaving them both in shadow.

  “Do you have it?” Ashley asked.

  “What do you think?”

  They regarded each other a long, silent moment. Then the man reached under his sweatshirt and extracted a paper-wrapped parcel the size of a brick.

  “You know the terms?” he asked. “Everything's clear?”

  Ashley nodded.

  He extended the package toward her, then stopped, his hand hovering between them. “This isn't the kind of thing you want to screw up.”

  “No kidding. You know my creds.”

  “Right.” He handed her the package.

  Ashley held it briefly in both hands, then slipped it into the tote bag on her arm. “I'll be in touch.”

  “I'll be waiting.”

  She hesitated, perhaps wanting to say something else, then
turned abruptly and strode out of the building. Sydney watched her go, wondering whether to follow her or stay with her male counterpart.

  Ashley's got the package.

  The thought decided her instantly. Whatever was in that bundle, Sydney wanted to know about it.

  Backing away from the building, she hurried toward the front of the warehouse, expecting Ashley to turn left and head toward Hotel Street, like last time. She was halfway up the alley when Ashley crossed its mouth mere yards in front of her, having unexpectedly turned right. Sydney froze, both shocked and exposed, but Ashley never looked her way. Ashley's attention seemed fixed on something down the block as she scurried past, a tight grip on her bag.

  Daring to move again, Sydney cut through a hedge, edging forward until she could see down the street. Ashley was picking up speed, trotting toward a cab parked at the corner. She closed the last few steps and yanked its door open, leaping in back as if it had been waiting just for her.

  It was, Sydney realized with a sinking feeling. Whatever Ashley was carrying was too valuable to risk walking down Hotel Street with. She must have called for the cab in advance, to make sure she'd clear the area fast after her pickup. Sydney watched helplessly as the taxi cruised off down the road. Then she bolted out of hiding and sprinted for her parked car.

  The cab had traveled about four blocks when Sydney picked up its red rear lights, staying back as far as she could to avoid detection. After following for a mile, she turned down a side street, then quickly turned again, running parallel to the cab. She was taking a risk, glimpsing the vehicle only at intersections, but she was more afraid of being spotted as a tail. Besides, she was already pretty certain they were headed back to Waikiki.

  A block from the hotel, the taxi pulled over and Ashley climbed out. Sydney parked her rental car in the first available space, spying from behind the wheel as Ashley paid the driver and walked away. She seemed more relaxed than in Chinatown. Her steps bounced as she headed down the block, and she took off her hat and shook out her hair. Sydney eased out of her car and followed cautiously. There wasn't a lot of cover in the sweeping hotel entry, and while she could make up a plausible lie to explain her presence there, Ashley wasn't likely to believe it.

  Within sight of the lobby, Sydney had to walk in the open. There was no doorman at that late hour, but she could see a desk clerk as she neared the entrance. Ashley was standing at the bank of elevators, waiting. As Sydney watched, the elevator doors opened and Ashley stepped inside.

  Sydney ran across the lobby and reached the elevators in time to see that Ashley was headed down.

  Down?

  All the guest rooms were on the upper floors. The only rooms below the lobby were meeting rooms, a ballroom, the spa facilities . . .

  She's going to hand off that package right here!

  Sydney sprinted for the staircase and ran down one floor, racing the elevator. When it didn't stop, she hit the stairs again, chasing it down another level. Ashley got off this time and headed straight for the hotel gym. Her room key opened the glass door to the darkened facility, where a few lonely stair-steppers kept company with a deserted line of treadmills. Passing the equipment without a glance, Ashley walked toward the locker room.

  Now what? Sydney wondered.

  Following Ashley into the gym was asking for trouble. But if she didn't, she might lose the girl—and whatever intel she was carrying—out some unknown exit. Throwing caution to the wind, Sydney dashed into the gym.

  The locker room lights were off, the only illumination coming from a bright red exit sign. Sydney made out shower stalls along the wall, and several tall, parallel banks of lockers in the center of the room. Ashley was nowhere in sight, but Sydney heard faint noises from behind the last row of lockers. Easing forward, every nerve stretched, she made her way to the source of the noise and peeked around the corner, drawing her head back abruptly.

  Ashley was standing in front of an open locker, stowing the tote bag inside it.

  Creeping to the nearest shower stall, Sydney took shelter inside its dark alcove. She heard the locker door clang shut, then rattle as Ashley tested the lock. For a full minute, there was silence. Then Ashley's footsteps sounded, heading back toward the equipment area. The gym door closed, a distant click, and Sydney slumped with relief. Whatever was in that package was as good as hers.

  Coming out of cover, she headed straight for the back row of lockers. They were the sort that ate quarters until eventually releasing a key—and there was only one with a key missing. Shrugging off her backpack, Sydney removed an all-purpose lock pick and went to work on the keyhole. She had the door open in seconds.

  Grabbing the tote bag excitedly, she reached inside and pulled out the paper-wrapped parcel, holding it close to her face. Her fingers went for a loose edge on the paper, peeling it back impatiently.

  Wham!

  The brutal blow to the back of her head collapsed Sydney instantly, blackness seeping across her vision as she slid to the cold tile floor. She tried to turn, to fight, to at least stay conscious. . . .

  The last thing she saw before she passed out was a blurred halo of blond hair.

  12

  “No, Wilson. It's early,” Sydney mumbled. “Let me sleep for once.”

  Her tongue felt too big for her mouth, and something hard pressed into her cheek. She tried to pull the blankets up over her head, to delay waking a few more minutes, but her hand closed on empty air.

  Her brain jolted with sudden recollection. Adrenaline flooded her bloodstream, kick-starting her heart and snapping her eyes wide open. She was lying on the cold tile floor of the hotel gym, and according to her watch, she'd been there a long time.

  “The prototype!” she gasped, sitting up abruptly.

  The room tilted like a sinking ship. For a moment she thought she would vomit. Her head throbbed painfully, and when she touched it, she found a large, tender goose egg behind her right ear. The skin wasn't broken, though—no blood—and a few slow, measured breaths made the floor horizontal again. Sydney reached for her backpack and dragged it closer, afraid of what she'd find.

  Her hand shook as she checked the pack's main compartment: sunscreen, dark glasses, a half-folded map, and—to her complete amazement—the prototype. The T-shirt she'd used to disguise the case was still wrapped tightly around it. The case itself remained unopened, its lock and seal intact.

  How could Ashley have missed it?

  Unless she was so concerned about getting her own intel to safety that she didn't stop to look . . .

  Sydney glanced around, every movement making her head hammer. Above her, the locker door stood open. With a tremendous effort, she pushed to her knees, then slowly to her feet. The locker was empty.

  The package was gone.

  Another half hour passed before Sydney felt well enough to walk to the elevator. Even then, she staggered as the car began its lurching journey to the sixteenth floor. The hall was hushed and deserted, but Sydney didn't let that stop her. Out of more clever ideas, she made her way to Ashley's door and pounded with all her strength.

  The door flew open in seconds, saving her the pain of kicking it in.

  “Sydney!” Gretchen exclaimed, her panicked look changing to one of anger. She was wearing an inside-out robe over pink baby-dolls, a spot of orange zit cream caking on her forehead. “What do you think you're doing? Do you know what time it is?”

  “I need to see Ashley,” Sydney said, shoving her way into the room. One of the beds was a twisted mess of sheets and blankets; the other was perfectly made.

  “Ashley's not here,” said Gretchen, putting her hands on her hips. “And this may surprise you, but I was sleeping.”

  “I have to talk to her. Where did she go?”

  Gretchen's eyes narrowed. “Have you been drinking?”

  “A little.” It seemed like as good an excuse as any. “I just . . . Could you tell me where she is, Gretchen? Please?”

  Gretchen considered, then tossed her he
ad and sat on the unmade bed. “Ashley went home.”

  “Home?” Sydney's head pounded painfully as she tried to understand.

  “L.A.,” said Gretchen. “Remember L.A.?”

  “I don't get it. She just packed up and left for L.A.?”

  “Somebody called her—some sort of family emergency. She said she had to go, and she did.”

  A cover story. Things were starting to make more sense.

  “What kind of emergency?” Sydney knew she was dealing with a lie, but she still couldn't help hoping for a clue. “Is somebody sick?”

  Gretchen shrugged. “She didn't say. Ashley's weird like that. Secretive. You know?”

  “Yeah,” said Sydney. “I know.”

  “I don't think you should go in the water,” Francie said worriedly, reaching over from the beach towel next to Sydney's. “Not with that lump on your head.”

  “It's nothing,” said Sydney, pushing her friend's hand away. “And we weren't going to tell anyone, remember?”

  To explain her sudden disappearance from the pool the night before, Sydney had told Francie she'd gone to the beachside bar for one of those fruity drinks, met a guy who'd bought her something stronger, and walked into a lamppost. Francie hadn't known whether to be amazed or furious—until she'd felt the bump under Sydney's hair. Then it had been all Sydney could do to talk her out of a trip to the emergency room.

  “Don't blame me if you die in your sleep,” Francie had finally muttered, giving up.

  But now, after a long, death-defying rest, Sydney felt much better. She'd put on her black bikini and gone out to the beach with the rest of the sisters, who had decided they couldn't leave the islands without at least trying to surf. It seemed everyone was there that afternoon.

  Everyone but Ashley.

  Sydney still couldn't believe that Ashley was really gone, but she'd given Roxy the same story about a family emergency—and when Roxy had repeated it to the other girls, no one else seemed to think anything of it.

  “Hey, Sydney! Are you coming out?” Roxy called now, her voice carrying up the beach. “You can have this board.”