Diamonds Are Truly Forever: An Agent Ex Novel 2 (37 page)

Drew lifted his glass to hers. “To my beautiful wife. Happy anniversary, baby!”

If only Drew were sincere … if only he wasn’t playing another spy game. He leaned over and kissed her just as the pilot got a call and dashed to the end of the dock, where he was met with a cart full of their luggage.

Being the suspicious type, Staci wondered if Drew wasn’t behind the delay, being extra careful that no one inadvertently brought a bomb on board. How could she resist a man who was so concerned with her safety, remembered their anniversary, and gave her chocolates?

*   *   *

Drew sat on the water side of the airplane across from Staci. He looked past her and smiled as Jerry the pilot wheeled the luggage cart to the plane.

Drew relaxed, hoping no one had noticed he’d been tense.
Never let them see you sweat
was the true motto of the Agency. His phone buzzed. He had a text from his agent who’d been scanning their bags. He glanced at it.

Nothing found. Whatever the Fisherman is smuggling to the Gardener must be on his person.

Staci smiled at him. “What’s up?”

He smiled back. “Nothing. Just work wanting to rib me about going on vacation and calling it a business trip.”

“It’s nice to know you’re already making friends.” Staci winked at him. He loved the sight of her.

Sam and Linda sat in front of them. Their seats swiveled. Sam spun around to face them. “Your turn will come, Drew. Get to be my age and you’ll have vacation to burn.”

Was it just Drew’s imagination or did Sam imply Drew likely wouldn’t make it to middle age?

Linda spun around, too, and reached across the aisle to grab her husband’s hand. She smiled at Sam, glowing with the radiance of a relieved woman, one who adored her husband.

The sight turned Drew’s stomach and made him feel more anxious over whether Staci would forgive him for what he was about to do this afternoon.

“Leave him alone, you old codger,” Linda said. “Let him enjoy his youth.”

“Who you calling an old codger?”

Damn,
Drew thought, watching them. Their happiness almost glittered. Linda looked happy again, in love with Sam. Back to the old Linda. And Sam?

Watching him closely, Drew thought his high spirits bordered on manic joy, the kind that comes from being about to realize your dreams. What were Sam’s dreams? Phenomenal wealth? Respect? Power?

All of them shone in Sam’s eyes now, to someone in the know, like Drew, magnified nearly to deadly obsessions. Sam had killed for his ambition. Looking at him, Drew got the feeling that murder only enhanced Sam’s euphoria. He was a big man now, playing with the really big men. And he had no idea what a dangerous game he was playing.

If Drew had merely been a stepson-in-law, he might have warned Sam off, told him that RIOT would never let him walk away to enjoy his wealth, true believer or not. That he’d just inked his signature on a contract for a suite in hell. SMASH would hunt him down until they found him, just to keep their perfect record intact. Being a spy, and hardened to the foolish choices men make, Drew only thought about how the current situation affected him.

Barely a week ago, at the start of the mission—was it really only a week ago?—Drew wouldn’t have imagined he’d be trying to save his marriage. Desperately trying to save his marriage. He’d thought then that if Staci discovered what his real mission was—to bring in her stepfather and try him for treason—it would only cement their divorce. Freeing Drew up to try to move on, cutting off any chance of giving in to any lingering temptation to win Staci back.

Now the very mission threatened his plans.

No matter what Staci thought about Sam, she’d put her mother’s happiness first. Staci was logical and pragmatic enough to understand Sam was a dangerous traitor who had to be brought in and stopped. But emotional enough that Drew worried she’d never forgive him for being the one to do it, and for planning it all along, and using her as part of the scheme.

This new sickening display of public affection between Sam and Linda made him rethink his strategy to warn Staci away from Sam. He couldn’t let anything slip, anything that might make Staci suspicious. Which meant he’d have to find some other way to protect her. Just until this afternoon. Then, if the mission went as planned, Sam wouldn’t be a danger to anyone but RIOT.

Jerry climbed aboard the plane, recited the safety instructions, pointed out the exits, and jumped into the cockpit. A few minutes later, they skimmed across Lake Union and became airborne just before water met land.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Linda said.

Staci murmured a response.

“Yeah, it’s a great view from up here.” Drew looked out the window. He was serious. “Awesome.”

Linda laughed. “No, well, yes sure, that too. But I meant about the four of us, all going off together to celebrate reunions.

“Two weeks ago you two were about to finalize your divorce and Sam and I were going through a rough patch. Now look at us!” Linda smiled fondly at Staci. “All happily reunited.”

Linda reached across and patted Staci’s hand. “This is such a pleasant difference from the last trip Sam and I took you on, Staci. Remember Westport in March? You were a different girl then, so sad and depressed. Nothing we did could cheer you up. Not even going out on Sam’s fishing boat, the
Attitude and Latitude.
” Linda winked at Drew. “She missed you too much.”

Staci frowned, looking as if she’d rather avoid the topic. “Of course I was depressed. I got horribly seasick, Mom! You escaped that particular misery because you begged off from fishing to go shopping, insisting Sam and I go so it would be like old times with Daddy.”

“I don’t like boats. Water’s not my thing,” Linda said, as if that justified things. “Just ask Sam.”

“She’s right. I don’t remember the last time she set foot on
Attitude and Latitude.
”

“Yeah, well, I remember my last time. It was horrible—windy and the river runoff was high, which made crossing the bar a nightmare even most professional fishermen avoided.” Staci turned an accusing eye on Sam.

“I don’t know what came over you. You’re usually more cautious.” She shook her head. “I spent most of the day belowdeck, groaning, trying to sleep it off and not toss my cookies while watching drawers and cupboards fly open and stuff pop out. I was lucky nothing beaned me. Good thing Sam had enough skill to bring us back in one piece. There were times during the day that I wondered.”

Sam grinned. “Oh, it wasn’t so bad. I limited out—rockfish and lingcod.”

Greg and Jake, the “father-and-son” fishermen, spun around in their seats and gave Drew and his family friendly waves.

Greg addressed Sam. “Sorry for eavesdropping, but sounds like you’re an avid fisherman. Are you taking a charter tomorrow?”

Sam laughed and nodded. “Taking one this afternoon
and
one tomorrow. Fishing’s the reason for this trip.”

“What are you after?” Greg asked.

Sam’s grin spread over his face. Once again Drew sensed a dangerous sense of elation in Sam, as if he were fooling everyone. “The usual—halibut, lingcod, rockfish.” Sam paused. His eyes glittered with greed. “Of course, I’d love a nice Tyee.”

A Tyee was a chinook salmon that weighed over thirty pounds.
Sam is expecting a hell of a payoff,
Drew thought grimly.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Victoria, BC, sits on the south end of Vancouver Island, just off the Strait of Juan de Fuca on the shores of a fine harbor. Less than an hour after they left Seattle, Jerry pulled the Beaver into the Inner Harbor, bounced once on the water, and slid into a slot next to a dock on Government Street.

Finally, Canadian soil,
Drew thought with satisfaction. He was already feeling the thrill of adrenaline course through his body as he thought of the mission going down this afternoon.

Sam didn’t have a fishing charter scheduled—he had a drop to make and a payoff to receive. Too bad for him it wouldn’t be going down as he’d planned.

Drew helped Jerry unload the bags and cheerily met up with his wife, mother-in-law, and Sam on the dock. Victorians liked to claim Victoria was more English than England. Maybe it was. All he knew was that he felt pumped, while acting as calm and stoic as a Brit.

“How would you like to get to the hotel, sweetheart?” Sam said to Linda. “Taxi, horse-drawn carriage, rickshaw?”

Linda slapped him playfully on the arm.

“I’m not joking. In Victoria, all means of transportation are available.” Sam kissed Linda on the cheek.

The whole phony display made Drew sick. Or would have if he weren’t so hardened to deceit. Drew suspected Sam planned to skip the country after his payoff. Drew doubted very much Sam planned to take Linda with him.

Drew pointed up the street. “The brewpub is that way, maybe half a mile. It’s a nice day. I say we walk.”

Staci nodded her agreement. “It’s beautiful weather and all our suitcases roll.”

She seemed happy, which gave Drew hope.

“No,” Sam insisted. “I think a carriage ride is in order. My treat.” He flagged a carriage.

They arrived at the Trumpet Brewpub and Hotel by horsepower. For the first time in a long time, Drew felt grateful to his stepfather-in-law. The carriage ride set the perfect romantic tone to start the weekend.

The Trumpet, however, was more masculine than romantic. He watched Staci’s face fall slightly at the dark wood interior, the overstuffed deep leather chairs in the lobby, the fishing motif and stuffed fish on the walls. Not exactly an anniversary getaway destination, especially as it reminded him, and probably Staci, too much of Sam’s taste in decor. Drew would have preferred somewhere more romantic, too. But deceptions must be adhered to. The Agency cover artist, Malene, had done a great job finding this place and setting the cover story in motion.

A jovial clerk at the front desk gave them their room keys. “Once you’re settled in, come on down for a few pulls of beer. Or would you prefer to start now?” He grinned at the ladies. “They’re on the house.”

Staci laughed. “Speaking for myself, I’d prefer to freshen up first.” She glanced at the clock on the wall behind him. “Besides, it’s only ten thirty. I never drink before noon.”

Drew loved the tinkle of her laugh. He found himself completely enamored of her. The quaint English atmosphere didn’t hurt. For Americans, particularly those in the Northwest, going to Victoria was like a mini vacation to England on the cheap.

The clerk laughed with Staci, not at her. “Clearly, you haven’t been hanging around a brewpub long enough.” He took a poke at Drew. “Haven’t you come to talk to the boss about starting a brewpub hotel yourself? First rule of marketing—school the wife and make sure she develops a taste for ale for breakfast. Served up with some bangers and mash it’ll hold you over until lunch well enough, ay?”

Drew grinned and shrugged. “Give me time. I’ve barely been on the job a week.”

“That long?” The clerk shook his head and gave them directions to their rooms.

It had been a feat to get the two couples rooms in the same hotel, close enough that Drew could keep an eye on Sam, yet far enough away to allow him some privacy with Staci. Linda had insisted they stay at the same hotel.

He carried Staci’s bag to the third floor and let her into their room. Once they were safely in, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him thoroughly.

“What did I do to deserve that?” he said.

“Oh, I don’t know? Maybe it was the chocolates. Maybe it was taking me along on this romantic mini spy-cation of yours.

“If only Mom and Sam weren’t along. Mom’s a garden maniac. She has us booked on a walking tour of Historic Victoria this afternoon and hopes to have time to tour Beacon Hill Park. She would have had us at Butchart, but she couldn’t get tour reservations until tomorrow.

“And she has an idea to tour the shops after that.”

“Sounds like a great plan to me. You love doing all those things. Just don’t wear yourself out. Save a little something for me later. It is our anniversary.” He winked at her. “I’ve made dinner reservations at the Empress Room for seven. We’ll be having royal table service. Wear something tight, low-cut, and fabulous with nothing underneath. Buy something new if you have to. We’ll pretend we’re Bond and Vesper tonight.”

Staci kissed him lightly on the lips, just a brush. A feather-light touch that aroused him. He hoped it wasn’t the last one she ever gave him.

She laughed and shook her head. “Now, there’s a tragic love story to emulate. Have you forgotten your Bond lore? Vesper’s a double agent who betrays Bond, falls in love with him and wants his baby, then kills herself to save him from SMERSH assassins. And for all her trouble, he calls her a bitch. That’s the last line in the book, isn’t it?”

He squeezed her playfully. “Yeah, but I think Bond meant it affectionately.”

She raised a brow. “
The bitch is dead now
? That’s what you call affectionate?”