How Spy I Am (3 page)

“Oh, thank you!” I
held back the urge to throw my arms around him and fled for the
stairs instead.

By the time the
secured door opened into the lobby, my legs were twitching with the
urge to run. I snatched up the jacket I’d left on the chair and
hurried to the security desk, unclipping my security fob.

“I’m going over to
Blue Eddy’s. I should’ve been there at eleven, and I’m late. Then
I’m due at Up & Coming at one. I’ll be back around three,” I
threw over my shoulder.

“Wait.” Kane’s voice
stopped me in the doorway.

I turned, holding back
the urge to snap at him from sheer pent-up nervous energy.
“What?”

“You should stay here
for a while, just in case you have another… episode.”

My heart rate ticked
up another notch. “Sam said I was fine. It was just some weird
thing in the network.”

Kane frowned. “I think
he’s taking it too lightly. I don’t see how he can know for certain
it was something in the network. What if it wasn’t?”

“He said it was just a
harmless collision in the network.” I swallowed fear. “He should
know, this is his life’s work. And he didn’t seem worried at
all.”

“But he’s not-” Kane
broke off and apparently decided to try another tack. “We really
need to work on your cover.”

I blew out a breath
and rubbed at my forehead. “Yeah, but in the mean time, this
is
my cover. I’m a bookkeeper, remember? That means I
actually have to show up at my clients’ places and do some
bookkeeping occasionally.”

“If Fuzzy Bunny
captures you, you won’t be bookkeeping for anybody ever again. Call
Eddy and tell him you’ll come tomorrow instead.”

“No.” I shot him an
exasperated glance. “Eddy is one of my favourite clients. I spend
my entire goddamn life here except for a few lousy hours a week
when I get to do what I
really
do.”

“Aydan…” His
expression was a mixture of annoyance and pleading. “You know how
important this is. Your life is on the line.”

I sighed and gave in
to both logic and the anxiety I’d been trying to deny.

“Fine, I’ll just grab
lunch at Eddy’s and then come right back.” I turned and hurried
out, hoping the compromise was good enough to prevent him from
dragging me bodily back into the building. When I made it outside
without incident, I gulped grateful breaths of the crisp October
air while I walked to my car.

At Blue Eddy’s, I let
myself in the back door of the bar and felt the weight of Sirius
Dynamics ease from my shoulders at the sound of the piano.

The waitress waved as
I passed the kitchen. “Hi Aydan! You want your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,
Darlene.” I shrugged the tension out of my muscles and followed the
beguiling sound of the blues.

Eddy glanced up from
the keyboard with his usual warm smile. “Hi, Aydan!”

The music pouring from
his fingers never faltered, and I sank down to sit on the back
corner of the stage, leaning my head against the wall behind
me.

“Hi, Eddy. Have I told
you lately how much I love coming here and listening to you
play?”

He grinned. “Only
every second time you’re here.” The music dwindled to a halt as he
sobered, frowning. “Aydan, are you okay? You’re really pale.”

I summoned up a smile.
“I’m fine, Eddy, thanks. Just tired.”

“Why don’t you go home
and have a rest?” he suggested. “You can come in tomorrow instead.
And maybe you should get a checkup. You work out and eat well. You
shouldn’t be feeling so run-down.”

I seized the
opportunity. “Thanks. You’re probably right. Maybe I will make a
doctor’s appointment…” I rose to head for a table before I had to
lie to him any more.

My waist pouch
vibrated and I fumbled hurriedly for my phone, catching the call
just before it went to voice mail.

“Is this Aydan Kelly?”
The precise female voice at the other end of the line sounded
vaguely familiar.

“Speaking,” I
responded, suppressing a yawn and racking my sleepy brain. Not one
of my bookkeeping clients…

“This is Miss Emma
Lacey, Arnold Helmand’s neighbour. Are you the tall young woman
with the long red hair who visits him from time to time?”

I couldn’t help
smiling. Forty-seven was hardly young, but I guessed it was all
about perspective.

“Yes, Miss Lacey,
that’s me.” I remembered the very proper retired schoolteacher and
bit back the urge to correct myself and say ‘It is I’. “How are
you?” I inquired instead.

“I am very well, thank
you,” she said crisply. “But I am quite concerned about Arnold. Did
you know that he was in a motorcycle accident last evening?”

Fear plunged icy
talons into my heart and threatened to rip it from my chest. I
swallowed hard and held onto composure, but when I spoke, my voice
was thin and breathless. “No, I didn’t know. Is he…”

“He is badly injured…”
she began.

The phone creaked
under the sudden clenching of my fingers. “Where is he?” I
interrupted. My voice trembled, and I sucked in a deep breath to
steady it before demanding, “Which hospital?”

“He should be in the
hospital,” she replied disapprovingly. “But he is at home. He makes
light of his injuries because he doesn’t want to alarm me, but
heaven only knows what he is hiding. He isn’t even capable of
walking without the aid of crutches. I thought that you would want
to know.”

Terror eased with the
knowledge that he was able to move around under his own power, and
I shoved aside the old bad memories.

“Thank you so much for
calling, Miss Lacey. I’ll leave Silverside immediately. I should be
in Calgary in about two hours.”

Punching the
disconnect button, I surrendered to my trembling knees and sank
down on the edge of the stage again, taking a few yoga belly
breaths. In. Out. Slow like ocean waves.

Eddy vacated the piano
stool to kneel beside me. “Aydan, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Arnie Helmand was in
a motorcycle accident.” I took a couple more breaths.

Eddy’s forehead
creased with concern. “Hellhound? That biker guy who’s such an
amazing guitarist? Is he… how bad is it?”

“It sounds like he’s
in rough shape, but he’s not in the hospital, so maybe it’s not as
bad as it sounds. Eddy, I’ve got to go. I’ll let you know when I
can come and do your books…”

“It’s okay,” he
interrupted. He beckoned to Darlene before turning back to me. “The
books aren’t important. Darlene will wrap up your burger to go, so
make sure you eat it. Drive carefully.” He squeezed my hand. “Think
good thoughts. He’ll be okay.”

Moments later I was
out the door, the heat of the burger comforting my cold hand. I
punched my speed-dial button with a quivering finger while I
hurried to my car.

“Kane.” His strong
baritone restored some warmth to my body, and I drew in a deep,
calming breath.

“John, it’s Aydan.
Arnie’s neighbour just called to tell me Arnie crashed his bike.
I’m going down to Calgary to see him. I’m leaving now.”

“How bad?” he snapped,
the words humming with steel-cable tension.

Jeez, way to dump news
about a guy’s best friend. Remorse stabbing me, I hastened to offer
what reassurance I could. “She said he was in bad shape, but
apparently he’s at home, getting around on crutches and resisting
any suggestions of medical care.”

“Oh.” Kane’s reply
came out on a breath, and his voice was deep with relief when he
spoke again. “That sounds like him. As long he’s rejecting medical
treatment, it’s a good sign.”

He hesitated. “You
know you shouldn’t leave. Stemp’s not going to like this.”

“Fuck Stemp.”

“No, thanks. He’s not
my type.”

I blew out a breath
between clenched teeth. “I don’t give a shit whether Stemp likes it
or not. Yesterday he told me I have to report all my comings and
goings to you. So I’m reporting. I’m going. We’re done here.”

“Aydan, wait. Why
don’t you just call Hellhound first? If he’s at home, it might not
be that serious. You know how rough he looked when he left
yesterday…”

Guilt twisted my
stomach at the too-fresh memory of brutal fists slamming into his
face and body. The horrible flat meaty thud of impact. His blood
spattering the floor. All because he was trying to protect me…

Kane was still
talking. “…she’s an elderly lady, she was probably just shocked by
all the bruises and bandages…”

“She said he was on
crutches,” I interrupted. “There was nothing wrong with his legs
yesterday. And you know damn well he’d lie and say he was fine even
if he was at death’s door.”

After another short
hesitation, he replied, “All right. I’ll cover for you with Stemp,
but call me as soon as you get to Calgary, and get back here as
soon as you can. We still need to meet this afternoon. If you have
to stay with Hellhound…” He paused.

Did I hear jealousy in
his voice? Shit, this was going to get complicated…

“We can figure it out
after we know how he is,” he finished. “Be careful. Watch your
back. And if you feel dizzy or confused or unusual in any way, call
me immediately.”

“Okay.” I hung up with
relief.

When I hurried up to
Arnie’s condo building two hours later, an elderly woman popped out
the door, her energy belying her tiny, frail-looking figure. Miss
Lacey ushered me through the lobby, and I followed while she
climbed the stairs to the third floor slowly but steadily,
apparently disdaining the elevator.

I knocked, and Miss
Lacey and I stood in silence in the hallway outside Arnie’s door.
No sound came from inside. We exchanged a look and I knocked again,
louder this time.

Tension mounted while
we waited. I saw my worry mirrored on her face as she stiffened her
already arrow-straight posture. “Try one more time,” she commanded.
“If he doesn’t answer, I’ll use the key he gave me.”

I rapped again.

Waited.

Miss Lacey was just
reaching for the knob when the door jerked open.

“What the fuckin’
hell!” Hellhound snapped. His scowl smoothed out. “Uh, sorry, Miz
Lacey.”

He balanced awkwardly,
a crutch under one arm, his other hand clutching a towel around his
middle. His heavy muscles glistened with water droplets.

Even his extensive
tattoos couldn’t hide all the contusions and raw scrapes. The face
above his beard was a grim collage of bandages and purplish-black
bruises, his left eye swollen half-shut.

He hopped on his good
foot, dropping the crutch to make a grab for the large
disreputable-looking cat that made a dash for the doorway. I
scooped up Hooker’s furry bulk and cuddled him while Arnie
retrieved his crutch.

Arnie eyed me. “Aydan?
Everythin’ okay?” His usual rasp held an edge of anxiety and his
battered knuckles whitened on the towel.

“Fine. Everything’s
fine,” I assured him, weak with relief. Except for the crutch, he
actually looked a little better than when we’d parted the previous
afternoon. At least he could see out of both eyes now.

His powerful shoulders
relaxed. “Christ, don’t scare me like that.”

I reached up to brush
a kiss across his lips. “I don’t bring bad news every time I show
up at your door, you know.”

His swollen cheek
distorted his smile. “Come on in, then, darlin’. Miz Lacey. I’ll go
put some clothes on.”

“Thank you, Arnold,
but no,” Miss Lacey replied. “Aydan, if you would be so kind as to
drop in at my apartment later, I would appreciate it very much.”
She turned and went across the hall, her door closing behind her
with a decisive click.

I stepped inside
Hellhound’s apartment and swung the door shut, stooping to release
the cat.

Hellhound grinned and
let his towel drop. “Come to put some drag-racin’ moves on my
stickshift like ya promised?”

I returned his grin
and took a moment to appreciate the scenery. “Good to see
everything’s still where it belongs. Miss Lacey scared the shit out
of me. She phoned and said you’d been in a bike accident and you
were in bad shape.”

Still balancing with
his crutch, he pulled me into a gentle one-armed hug and kissed my
forehead. “Sorry, darlin’. I hadta explain the bruises to her
somehow, an’ I sure as hell couldn’t tell her it was ‘cuz a’ your
spy stuff. I didn’t know she was gonna call ya.”

I frowned. “Kane’s the
spy. I’m just an asset.”

“Yeah, darlin’,
whatever,” he replied. “If it walks like a duck, an’ quacks like a
duck…” He shot a pointed look at my ankle, where he knew my Glock
26 snuggled in its concealed holster. “So I told her I dumped the
bike,” he finished.

I pulled away to
survey the damage. “Looks like you did. That’s fresh road rash, and
there was nothing wrong with your ankle yesterday.”

“Yeah,” he grunted,
and limped over to sprawl on the couch. I winced as he eased his
swollen ankle onto the worn coffee table.

“I was bringin’ the
bike back last night, an’ some fuckin’ dipshit cut me off,” he
continued. “Hadta lay ‘er down. Caught my boot in a fuckin’ pothole
an’ went ass over teakettle.”

“Did you get it
x-rayed?” I demanded.

“Yeah. Just a sprain.
No big deal. I wasn’t goin’ very fast.”

“How’s the
Harley?”

He scowled. “Scraped
the shit outta the pipes an’ dented the tank. Gonna hafta get it
rechromed an’ repainted. Little assrat wrote me a cheque on the
spot, though. Pissed his pants an’ gave me about twice what it’s
gonna cost to get it fixed.”

I eyed his fearsome
visage fondly. Hellhound’s normal appearance scared most people. In
his current battle-scarred state, I was surprised the hapless
motorist hadn’t dropped dead of sheer terror.

His lopsided smile
returned, his teeth gleaming white against his split lip. “Too bad
ya rushed down here in a panic, but it’s good to see ya.” He
sobered. “Did ya work things out with Kane?”