Never Say Spy (The Never Say Spy Series Book 1)

by Diane Henders

  “It’s this new workout plan I’m on,” I explained. “It’s called the Spy Workout. Maybe you’ve heard of it. It involves a lot of punching good guys and running.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I’ve heard of that one. Tried it myself a few times, but I never got good at punching the good guys.”

  I laughed. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m planning to switch workouts pretty soon, too. The Spy Workout gets old fast.”

  “Smart choice.”

  Kane glanced at his watch. “Okay, we’ll wrap up a couple of things here, and then we can go.” He and Germain turned back to their terminals, and I retreated down the hall to pace in the bunkroom, not wanting to hover anxiously.

  I was beginning to wear a path in the floor by the time Kane called me, and I feigned calm when I joined him in the work area.

  Germain looked up from his computer. “I’m just tracking down a hot lead here. You two go ahead. If I get this tied up in the next little while, I’ll join you, but I might just stay here and eat the leftover pizza from this afternoon.”

  Emerging from the basement felt like being reborn, and I sucked in a surreptitious breath of relief.

  When we arrived at Blue Eddy’s, most of the tables were occupied and the stage was set up. Three waitresses circulated, and Eddy was busy behind the bar. When he saw us, his face lit up and he put down the glass he was filling to hurry across the room.

  He took my hands in both of his. “Aydan, thank goodness you’re all right. I was worried about you.”

  I smiled at him and squeezed his hands. “No need to thank goodness, thank you. I would have been in serious trouble without you.”

  “What happened?” he asked, examining my bruised wrists. “They wouldn’t tell me anything when I called the hospital, but there was blood down the hallway from where you got dragged out. Did they catch the women who attacked you?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Those weren’t women. They were my crazy ex-husband and one of his low-life buddies in drag. I moved here to get away from him, but he found me anyway. I’m really glad you called the police. He won’t bother me again.”

  “But where have you been?” he persisted. “I called the hospital and they said you’d been discharged, but I called your home number and got no answer last night. I was afraid something might have happened after you left the hospital.”

  “Oh,” I said in confusion. We’d figured out a cover story, but I hadn’t expected he’d try to call me. “I was… I didn’t go home. I, um…”

  I felt Kane’s hand at the small of my back. “She stayed with a friend,” he said blandly, looking Eddy square in the eye.

  Eddy’s sharp gaze took in the two of us standing close together, Kane’s proprietary hand on my back. “Oh.” He nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks, Eddy, and I’m sorry you were worried. I’ll give you my cell number the next time I’m in.”

  “That would be good.” He winked at Kane. “You take good care of her, John. I can’t afford to lose my bookkeeper.”

  He went back to the bar, and I churned my fingers in my hair. “Gah. Looks like Spider’s scenario wins after all. Sorry, I froze. Now what do we do?”

  “Let it go,” Kane advised. “Eddy made an assumption. If we play it cool, that’s all it will be. It will just go away eventually.”

  “Good enough,” I agreed. We both scanned the room, and I could tell that, like me, Kane was scoping out the best strategic position in the crowded bar.

  A familiar burly figure wove its way through the crush. “Hey darlin’. Cap,” Hellhound greeted us. He turned to me. “Thought ya were gonna give him the slip so we could play some wild music together.”

  I grinned, giddy with my reprieve from captivity. “How do you feel about threesomes?”

  Kane’s eyebrows rose as his mouth quirked in amusement. Hellhound leered. “Darlin’, if you’re talkin’ two chicks an’ me, I’m happy to oblige, but this big galoot would throw me off my game somethin’ fierce.”

  I shrugged. “Darn. Guess you’ll just have to play with yourself, then.”

  He pulled a mournful face. “Story a’ my life.” The sound of guitars floated over the hum of conversation in the bar. “Gotta go, we’re gonna start the set,” Hellhound said. “I grabbed the table over there. My jacket’s on the chair.” He jerked a thumb toward what I was beginning to think of as ‘our usual table’ before turning to make his way back to the stage.

  Kane and I exchanged a smile as we slid into chairs with our backs to the wall. The waitress arrived quickly and we ordered drinks, lime and soda for Kane and Corona for me. When the icy bottle arrived, I squeezed in the lime and lowered the level down to the bottle’s shoulders in a long, blissful swallow. I sighed and lolled back in the chair, stretching out my legs and cradling my bottle lovingly.

  “I’m getting spoiled by being chauffeured around all the time,” I told Kane. “I’ve had more beer this week than in the last six months.”

  He laughed. “I’m feeling sorry for myself watching you enjoy it. I could go for some cold suds right now. It’s been a long week.”

  I nodded. “I hear you.”

  The first set started and we sat in companionable silence, enjoying the excellent music. I smiled and moved with the beat, soaking in the freedom and normalcy. When the menus arrived, I ordered a burger and onion rings. Might as well go for the gut bomb. My normally healthy diet was nothing but a distant memory anyway.

  The musicians took a break and Hellhound ambled over to the table, regarding the remaining chairs with disgust.

  I smiled up at him and scooted my chair over closer to Kane. “Pull one around beside me. There’s room.”

  “Thanks, darlin’.” He dragged one of the chairs over and straddled it backward, facing the stage. He rested his arms across the back, dangling a half-empty beer bottle between his fingers.

  “You guys are amazing,” I complimented him. “Do you play up here often?”

  “Every now an’ then. Whenever I’m up here on a Thursday night. I been comin’ off and on for a while, so I know some a’ the guys.”

  We were interrupted by the arrival of the food, and I dug into the burger with enthusiasm. After a few minutes of intense concentration, I sat back with a sigh and drank some more beer. As I did, I realized both men were regarding me with amusement.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You eat every meal as if it was your last,” Kane observed.

  I gave him a half-smile and a shrug. “Some day it will be. Nobody will ever say I didn’t enjoy my last meal.”

  He sobered. “True. You’ve come close enough to your last meal a few times this week.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, well, tonight I’m eating a fabulous burger, drinking ice-cold beer, and listening to the best music I’ve heard in a long time. I win.”

  Both men laughed. Kane raised his glass. “To winning.”

  Hellhound and I clinked our bottles against it. “To winning,” we agreed.

  The musicians were gathering onstage again, and Hellhound got up to join them. They put their heads together for a few seconds before taking their places. Hellhound pulled the microphone close. “I wanna do a song for a special lady tonight,” he rasped, the mike deepening and enriching his voice.

  They launched into a classic blues lead-in, and Hellhound leaned into the mike and began to sing. “I want this long-legged redhead woman, oh, but she won’t treat me right. Oh, I want a long-legged red-head woman, y’know, but she won’t treat me right.”

  He sang a couple more verses and then slid into a refrain, his voice growling into a rough-edged low note like the brush of whiskers against sensitive skin. The small hairs stood up on the back of my neck.

  “Please, oh baby please, lay some sugar on a dyin’ man. Hot sugar for your sighin’ man.”

  I tried to control a shiver of pure desire as that low note hit my ears and headed straight south. After my experience in the sim, I thought sex would be the l
ast thing on my mind but instead, every inch of my skin begged for healing touch. Like eating a candy to take a bad taste out of my mouth.

  Hot sugar.

  Kane turned a concerned face toward me. “Are you all right?”

  I lowered my beer by an inch or two. “I’m fine,” I croaked. I shook my finger at Hellhound, who grinned unrepentantly. The set continued, and I squirmed in my chair, my body on fire.

  Kane leaned over. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

  “No. It’s okay.” I drained my bottle and nodded to the waitress’s questioning look. When the fresh bottle arrived, I deliberately stretched out in my chair again, schooling my body into repose and concentrating on the blues. By the time Hellhound returned at the end of the set, I was down a half-bottle and moving to the music again.

  When he took his seat, I reached over and shoved gently at his shoulder. “You old lecher. No wonder Kane won’t let me go out alone.” Both men laughed. “I didn’t know you composed your own music,” I added.

  He bounced his eyebrows. “Only when I’m inspired. An’ who’re ya callin’ old? I’m only forty-eight. ‘Experienced’ is the word I prefer.”

  I grinned. “I bow to your superior experience.”

  “Ow. Come on, darlin’, there can’t be more’n ten years between us.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “Oooh, flattery will get you everywhere. Try two.”

  He stared at me. “Now that, I don’t believe.”

  I poked at his empty beer bottle. “Never underestimate the transformative power of beer goggles and bar lighting.”

  He shook his head. “Darlin’, I’ve seen ya in the light of day.”

  I gave him a smile and dropped my eyes, pleased but a little embarrassed by his openly appreciative gaze. “Don’t you have music to play?”

  “I do indeed. An’ I’m feelin’ inspired all over again.” He got up and headed back to the stage.

  By the time I’d finished my second beer, I could tell Kane was getting restless. I knew he’d want to be in the thick of the investigation, and although I was enjoying the music, I had a feeling more beer would be a bad idea. I shot him a glance. “Ready to go?”

  He nodded. “I’d really like to get back to work.”

  I nodded understanding, and he signalled the waitress. We split the bill and headed for the door, giving Eddy and Hellhound a wave as we left. They smiled from the bar and stage respectively, and we emerged from the heat and music into the crisp air of the parking lot.

  I stood for a few seconds drinking in the silence and spacious coolness. I gazed up at the stars as I spoke to Kane. “Any idea when I can start living at home again?”

  “I’ll have a better idea tomorrow morning. The way things looked when I left, you might even be able to go home for tomorrow night. Everything I’ve seen so far indicates that you’re in the clear.”

  I drew a deep breath of the fresh air. “That would be so good.”

  My hands were shaking by the time Kane stepped forward to activate the breakers below the house. I drew a deep breath as the door swung open, and he eyed me with concern.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” My voice was a little too loud, and I stood straighter and met his eyes with all the bravado I could muster.

  His face softened, and he half-reached a hand in my direction. “Aydan, I’m sorry this is so hard for you,” he said softly. “But it’s for your own safety-”

  “I know, and thanks,” I interrupted. “It’s just my stupid claustrophobia. It’s okay. I’ll deal with it.” I turned and strode down the stairs to stand waiting at the lower door, staring into middle distance and repeating my internal mantra.

  Fine. I was fine. Not trapped.

  Webb and Wheeler had returned while we were gone, and suppressed excitement crackled in the air. Kane immediately joined the huddle in the meeting room, and I waved a general good-night and departed for the bunkroom, glad to be free of his too-perceptive scrutiny.

  Once in bed, I lay still, concentrating fiercely while I did every relaxation exercise I knew.

  Chapter 43

  My eyes flew open and I peered at my watch for the umpteenth time. It was only six A.M., but I couldn’t face the thought of tossing and turning any longer. Only sheer obstinate pride had prevented me from begging the men to shoot me with a trank so I could get through the night. The jagged blades of an incipient panic attack vibrated ominously near the edges of my mind.

  I groaned my way out of bed, the aching tension in my muscles completely eclipsing the discomfort from my injuries.

  In the shower, I breathed myself into a semblance of calm again, letting the hot water soften my knotted shoulders. Diverting my mind with a cursory examination, I was pleased to discover my bruises were blossoming into yellow, green, and brown. They actually looked worse than when they were fresh, but I’d had enough bruises over the years to be reassured by their colourful display of healing.

  By the time I arrived in the meeting area, a paper bag was already perched on the table. Spider looked up as I came in, the dark circles under his eyes belied by his buoyant smile.

  “Breakfast’s ready.” He pointed to the bag, and I grinned at him, clasping my shaking hands under the table.

  “Thanks, Spider, you’re the best!” I sat down and pulled the bag over, purring my approval at the contents. “Mmmm-mmmm! I owe you big-time for this,” I told him as I retrieved another bagel with peanut butter, taking secret comfort from its heat and aroma. “How did you know peanut butter is my staple breakfast food?”

  “Lucky guess,” he beamed. “And anyway, you don’t owe me. It’s on the department expense. After all you’ve done for us, a little peanut butter is the least we can do for you.”

  I glanced up eagerly. “Does that mean things went well last night?” I mumbled around a sticky mouthful.

  He nodded. “Better than well. We’re just tying up the last loose ends now.” As he spoke, Kane strolled in, rumpled and stubbled again, the lines on his face etched deeper by lack of sleep. He set his coffee down on the table and dropped into a chair.

  “How late did you guys work, anyway?” I asked. “You look like death warmed over. No offence.”

  “None taken,” Kane growled in his morning voice. He cleared his throat and took a gulp of coffee before continuing, his deep baritone husky. “We’ve made some excellent progress. Once you identified Sandler’s involvement, the rest of the pieces started to fall into place. There are still some lingering questions, but we’ll get there.”

  I hid my desperation in a casual tone. “Does that mean I can go home today?”

  He frowned. “You should stay here until we have time to search out the last of the details.”

  Stay calm. Breathe. Not trapped.

  “But Fuzzy Bunny thinks I’m dead. Surely I’m in the clear now.” I gave him my best pleading big brown eyes.

  He shifted in his chair, looking troubled. “Aydan, I know it’s been hard on you to stay underground. And you’re right, so far it looks as though you’re in the clear. But do you really want to take that chance?”

  “Yes, for-” I bit off the harsh voice that issued from my throat, squeezing my hands together under the table and drawing a deep breath.

  “But how much of a chance is it, really? And when would you ever be sure?” I argued instead, holding my tone calm and reasonable. “You’ll never be a hundred percent sure.”

  He dropped his head into his hands and stared at the table. “That’s true, but...”

  “I need to get out of here.” I tried to hold onto my calm voice, but it vibrated with desperation and my shaking fingers dug into my thighs.

  He looked up to appraise me for a moment before blowing out a tired breath. “All right. If you’re sure. I’ll take you home, and clear your place one last time. Here’s your cell phone, too.” He pushed it across the table.

  Germain arrived, the shadows under his eyes matching Webb’s, his stubble even more rampan
t than Kane’s. His eyes crinkled when he saw me. “You look like a kid on Christmas morning. Somebody must have fed you.”

  “Yes. And even better than that, I’ll be out of your hair today.” My relief bloomed into a grin. “Not that it hasn’t been a slice, but...”

  Germain laughed. “Fickle woman.” He drifted toward the kitchen.

  Kane leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. His shirt sleeves strained around his bulging biceps, and I sighed inwardly at the realization that this would be my last glimpse of that eye candy. As scary as the past few days had been, I had thoroughly enjoyed the view when I wasn’t being frightened out of my mind. Too bad he was so scrupulous about propriety within the team.

  He rose, stretching. “I need to grab a shower and a shave, and then we can go.”

  “Okay.” With freedom in sight, it was all I could not to spring up and pace. I turned to my breakfast bag instead, concentrating on eating slowly.

  Almost there. Almost free. Just breathe.

  After a while, Germain appeared with his coffee and slid into the opposite chair. “So what do you plan to do with your first day of freedom?”

  I turned gratefully to the distraction. “First, I’m going to go and stand at the top of my hill for about an hour or until I freeze, whichever comes first. After that, I guess I’ll get organized and pack up some tools to take to Calgary, if I can figure out how to get them down there on the bus. And then I can bring my car back.”

  A clean-shaven Kane returned as I spoke, his short, still-damp hair neatly combed. A whiff of shampoo made my stomach drop with the memory of the delicious body under that black T-shirt. And those jeans… I kept my eyes above his waistband with an effort.

  “Why don’t you give Hellhound a call?” Kane suggested. “I think he was planning to go back today. He’d have room for your tools in his SUV. Are you ready to go?”

  I jumped up, only wincing a little, and made a beeline for the door. I snatched it open before remembering my manners and forcing myself to turn with a smile.