The Lord and the Spy

by Slade, Heather

  I giggled. “Put me down.”

  He slid me down the length of his body, letting me feel exactly how much he wanted what would come after Vera’s visit.

  “What’s she like, coffee or tea?” he asked, turning to go into the kitchen.

  “Diet soda.”

  “Ugh, seriously?”

  “She drinks it by the caseload.”

  “I have none.”

  I watched Vera’s approach through the window. She’d aged in the months since I’d seen her, or maybe I just hadn’t noticed it before.

  When I opened the door, my mentor stepped forward to hug me. I wasn’t certain how to react; it was something she’d never done before.

  “Come in,” I said, opening the door wider and taking a step back.

  “Forgive my enthusiasm,” said Vera. “You have no idea how much you’ve been missed.”

  I felt the air leave my lungs. This was not going to be an easy conversation, not that I’d expected it to be.

  “What can I get you to drink? I’ll warn you, Wilder doesn’t keep diet soda in the house.”

  “Coffee, black, would be preferable anyway.”

  “I heard, and I’ll be right out. Hello, Vera,” Wilder shouted from the kitchen.

  I led her into the sitting room where Wilder must’ve lit a fire when he came down earlier.

  “This is lovely. It suits you.”

  “He suits me.”

  Vera leaned forward and took my hand. “I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve never seen you look so relaxed or so happy.”

  I felt my cheeks turn pink. “I am both.”

  “Which means, I suppose, you’ve made your decision.”

  “Is that why you’ve come? I thought it was to discuss the breach.”

  “It is, to a certain extent. I came prepared to offer you a deal to really get out if you wanted it.”

  “Meaning?”

  “New identity. New life.”

  My eyes were wide, and I wished Wilder would hurry up and get in here with the coffee.

  “Is that necessary?” I asked.

  “Is what necessary?” asked Wilder. “Forgive me. Nosy beau. If it isn’t any of my business, please say so.” He leaned over and kissed Vera’s cheek before handing her the coffee.

  I looked between them. “You two know each other?”

  “Not for long,” Vera answered. “Only since last February.”

  I continued looking from one to the other.

  “I demanded an audience,” explained Wilder.

  I turned to Vera. “You never said.”

  “I called you in to tell you, and before I could, you issued the edict that if I wanted you to stay in NGA’s employ, there were certain guidelines that needed to be followed ‘to the letter.’”

  “Ugh, I did say those precise words, didn’t I?”

  “She did,” Vera said to Wilder. “Emphasis on ‘to the letter.’”

  “She can be a demanding little thing.” He winked and sat on the arm of my chair. “When I came in, you were asking Vera if something was necessary.”

  “Right. She came to offer me a new identity.”

  “As in witness protection?” he asked.

  “In a way. Mainly, if Kennedy King wanted to disappear, I could make it happen.”

  “I’ll reiterate Wren’s earlier question. Is that necessary?”

  “It’s one option among many. Which leads me to ask, have you made a decision?”

  I looked up at Wilder. “I believe we have.”

  “Out with it,” he said, smiling and nudging me.

  I rested my arm on his leg. “Wilder and I have been discussing forming a consultancy.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “We are,” he answered for us both. “In light of the breach, I’ve decided not to accept the position of permanent chief, not that I anticipate it will be offered.”

  “That’s more than a little rash, don’t you think? What is it with you Whittakers? As soon as that desk job gets a little too close, you resign.”

  “I can’t speak for my brother; however, I got a glimpse of the life, and it didn’t appeal.”

  “Very well,” said Vera, standing.

  “You don’t have to leave so quickly,” I said, stunned by Vera’s abruptness.

  “I’m not leaving. I’ve been invited to the abbey once our meeting concluded. Don’t you all speak to one another?”

  “Before you go, can I ask? What about Sanborn?”

  “She’s in custody, not that she was ever out of it. We let her go to see if she’d lead us to the people we were really after.”

  “And who was that?” Wilder asked.

  “Thomason, obviously. From what we’ve been able to piece together, the two made contact when Wren’s trip was in the planning stages. We still don’t know if they already knew one another or if they were put together by a third party.” She looked from me to Wilder.

  “Who else did she lead you to?” I asked.

  Vera smiled. “You’ve had time to think about it. Any theories?”

  “A couple.”

  Vera rubbed her hands together and sat back down. “I can’t wait to hear.” She winked at Wilder when I stood and paced in front of the fireplace.

  “The first is Kruchenko.”

  “Why?” Vera asked.

  “He had known ties to Mormeht Savat.” The man whose execution I’d arranged in January.

  Vera nodded. “Why else?”

  “He’s Ukrainian, and we all know that after the United States, they are Russia’s greatest enemy. He’s deep enough into intelligence that he could easily have masterminded the entire thing with the PKK in an effort to undermine Russia’s deal with Turkey.”

  “I’m with you so far.”

  I looked at Wilder. “Do you know what kind of access Thomason would’ve had to Matthew?”

  “Unlimited.”

  “Prior to him being imprisoned?”

  “Again, unlimited. For all intents and purposes, Matthew was Rivet’s son. I’m sure he came and went at MI6 with some regularity.”

  “Was Thomason aware of Matthew’s true parentage?” I asked.

  Wilder nodded. “I’d say it’s likely.”

  “I believe Thomason’s initial involvement with Matthew was unrelated to the Russian-Turkish deal,” I told them. “It had to have been going on for months if not years.”

  “Anyone fancy something stronger than coffee?” Wilder asked, standing and running his hand through his hair.

  “Sure,” I answered absentmindedly.

  “Vera?”

  “What the hell.”

  33

  Wilder

  I pulled out Wellie’s brandy, poured a heavy shot, downed it, and then poured another along with one for Wren and Vera.

  Watching Wren process what I guessed Vera already knew, was as fascinating as it was daunting. In my role at MI6, I had access to the highest level of intelligence, but I didn’t keep it in my head like Wren did.

  She’d said she hadn’t “kept up” in the last several months, yet she remembered details that never would’ve been on my radar.

  Could she really give up her life at the NGA? Wren seemed to come alive, blossoming, once Vera asked if she had any theories. She’d give it all up to be with me, I knew that, but could I allow her to?

  “How did it come together?” I heard Vera ask Wren when I came back in the room with our drinks.

  “Thank you,” Wren said, leaning forward to kiss me when I handed her the glass. “Are you okay? I know it’s difficult to talk about Matthew and everything that happened.”

  “I’m fine. Truly.” My eyes met Vera’s, and I wondered if she knew my discomfort was based more on Wren’s extraordinary abilities rather than the fact that my half brother had tried to kill my siblings and me.

  “Wren was just telling me her theory of what happened between Thomason and Caird.”

  “Matthew, she means,” Wren said unnecessarily.
<
br />   I stood near her with my elbow on the fireplace mantel. “Don’t stop on my account. I’m anxious to hear your thoughts.”

  “Rivet made no secret that he was ready to retire. My thinking is that Thomason was disappointed when he was passed over in favor of Merrigan Shaw, but Rivet offering her the position was something everyone in the intelligence world expected.”

  “I agree,” I said, smiling at the beautiful and brilliant woman standing before me.

  Wren continued. “When Merrigan turned the job down and Rivet tapped Shiver, Thomason was no longer disappointed; he was angry. Depending on how long he’d known about Matthew’s true parentage, maybe he’d already begun to fuel that flame.”

  “You’re saying he convinced my already unstable and mentally ill half brother to take matters into his own hands and eliminate my father’s other heirs?”

  “This is all conjecture for now, but I can see it as one scenario.”

  “I can as well.”

  “The two of you make a good team,” said Vera, who I’d almost forgotten was in the room. “Kruchenko, in his position with Ukrainian intelligence, would have known about Matthew’s rampage at Whittaker Abbey and what his intended outcome was.”

  “Right,” said Wren. “Kruchenko would also have come in contact with Nate Thomason as part of both of their positions.” She put her hand on mine. “Sanborn made no secret of her issues with you. It would be easy to imagine that she and Thomason discussed you if they did, in fact, make the arrangements for my visit.”

  “It may be years before we know all of the intricacies of what actually led to today’s outcome,” commented Vera. “Suffice to say that between them all, the only thing they actually managed to achieve was Matthew Caird’s death. If your theory is right, Wren, and I believe it is, whatever their combined agendas were, along with their personal ones, they failed miserably.”

  She took a long drink of Wellie’s brandy and then coughed a little.

  “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. It’s a bit potent.”

  “I’m made of pretty tough stuff, Whittaker,” said Vera, setting her empty glass on the table. She folded her hands on her lap and looked at Wren. “Please continue.”

  With the rapt attention of both Vera and me, Wren continued to outline most of what we already knew.

  The deal between Russia and Turkey for the former’s air defense system, which Kruchenko tried to put a stop to, had gone through.

  Mormeht Savat’s death severely crippled the PKK, and Turkey, no longer defenseless against their air attacks, brought the rest of the organization down, and thus, eliminated a terrorist cell that had been a strong ally of Ukraine.

  While United Russia remained a threat to the US as well as much of the rest of the world, their historical roller-coaster ride of power began and ended with a specific leader. Once the current president was either dead or overthrown by yet another revolution, it was impossible to say whether they would remain a world power.

  “And that, my friend, is how it’s done,” said Vera, standing to put her hand on Wren’s arm. “It’s fascinating to watch, isn’t it?” she said to me.

  “She says her brilliance isn’t close to your level.”

  Vera laughed. “Oh, Wren. If you only knew your own worth. On that subject, whenever you have your consultancy established, NGA would like to put you on retainer.”

  “Where is Kruchenko?” I asked Vera, walking her to the door.

  “Already in the US so we won’t have a repeat of Matthew’s pesky extradition fight.”

  “That fight brought Wren to me.”

  “You can thank me for that.”

  I took Vera’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I can never thank you enough.”

  “Take good care of her, or you’ll answer to me.”

  I smiled. “I’ll guard her like the goddess she is.”

  “See to it. Will you and Wren be at dinner?”

  “Yes. We’ll join you at the abbey shortly,” I said, waving her off.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, joining Wren in the sitting room.

  “Exhausted.”

  “If we became consultants, it would be more of the same.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. I told you before I’m not sure I can go back to that life. But, Wilder, even if we don’t start our own firm, I can still stay in England.”

  “I can leave England as well.” I pulled her into my arms. “As I’ve said at least twice before, this is nothing that needs to be decided now.”

  34

  Wren

  Over dinner, I watched Darrow with Pinch. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen them together, but they didn’t seem as happy as they had the night I’d joined them, Shiver and Orina, and Wilder for dinner at the pub.

  I really hoped it wasn’t because of Quint. I couldn’t see my brother ever settling down. Not that I knew if that was what Darrow would want anyway.

  It didn’t help that Vera was seated between Pinch and Z and the three were conversing about the recent MI6 and DHS turmoil while speaking in the cryptic language those in intelligence often used.

  “Darrow?” I said. “Would you like to take a walk between courses?”

  “Yes. I’d love it,” she answered, scooting her chair away from the table before Pinch could get up and do it for her.

  We’d just gotten out the door when I saw Vera following us.

  “I owe you an apology,” she said to Darrow. “I was monopolizing the conversation.”

  “It’s all right,” Darrow said, not looking at the woman who’d apologized.

  “It isn’t. It was rude.”

  When Darrow didn’t respond, I made eye contact with Vera, who nodded when I motioned toward the house with my head.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked once Darrow and I were alone.

  “It isn’t the same as it used to be between Pinch and me.”

  “Could it be better?”

  “It could, but it isn’t.”

  “Darrow, I hope my brother doesn’t play into this in any way. Quint isn’t exactly…”

  “What? Finish what you were going to say about him.”

  “He isn’t the relationship type.”

  Darrow raised a brow. “I’ve never met someone who treats a woman the way your brother does.”

  I was afraid to ask what she meant. When we were in high school, Quint was definitely the love-them-and-leave-them type.

  “He’s a gentleman. Your brother would never leave me sitting there while he spent the entire dinner talking to the woman seated on the other side of him.”

  “I don’t know what to say about that.”

  “The thing between Axel and me has run its course.”

  “You don’t know; it might still work out.”

  Darrow stopped walking. “Are you opposed to my relationship with your brother?”

  I stopped too. “I’m not. However, I was there when we got off the plane, and you were very happy to see Axel. I have to admit I was glad Quint wasn’t there to see it.”

  “We’ve known each other since we were children. Sometimes it’s more like he’s my brother.”

  “And sometimes it’s not.”

  She shrugged. “I was the only person at the table who had no clue what everyone else was talking about. Even my mother understood what was going on.”

  “It’s difficult when everyone else is talking shop. I’ll be mindful we don’t do so much of that when we go back in.”

  “I’ve a headache anyway. Maybe I’ll stop in and see Wellie before I go back to Covington House.”

  “I wish you would come back inside with me instead.”

  “Remember when I told you I never wanted to come back to England?”

  I nodded.

  “I had my reasons.”

  I watched Darrow walk away, unsure if I should let her go or continue trying to get her to come back for the rest of dinner.

  “Where’s she off to?” asked Wilder, coming up behind me. />
  “She was bored, so she’s going to see Wellie.”

  “It’s always been my sister’s lot. Most times she has no idea what any of us are talking about, and that’s by design.”

  “I’m worried about her.”

  Wilder spun me around so I was facing him, and kissed me.

  “What was that for?”

  “Because you care about Darrow, and I love that about you.”

  “I didn’t help. She still left.”

  “But she left knowing someone noticed.”

  “Why didn’t Pinch notice? That’s what she really wanted.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, drawing me to him. “Maybe it’s run its course.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  When we went back inside, it was as though Pinch hadn’t even noticed Darrow was gone. If that’s the way he was with her all the time, then maybe it was time for her to move on. My only worry was, would Quint be any different?

  “What’s your plan?” asked Shiver once we’d said good night to Vera and Z, who were sharing a ride back to London with Rivet and Victoria.

  “That is a question with a wide range of answers,” I responded.

  “Will you go back to NGA?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What are you grilling my woman about?” asked Wilder, coming back from thanking Mrs. Mollybock for making dinner for the crowd.

  “That’s why she likes him so much, you know,” said Shiver. “He’s the only one who ever remembers to thank her for doing her job.”

  “You would’ve made a terrible chief,” said Wilder.

  “You’re right. I would’ve. What of you? Still thinking of turning it down?”

  Wilder looked at me before answering. “We have a lot to figure out yet,” he said. “However, right now, we’re going back to Dorchester House.”

  “Do you plan to stay for very long?”

  “I know what he’s getting at,” Wilder whispered. “He wants to know if he can con me into going out and getting the trees since Wellie is under the weather.”

  “You saw right through me.”

  “Trees?” I asked.

  “The duchess has always insisted on each of the ‘public rooms,’ as she calls them, having a decorated tree.”