How Spy I Am (32 page)

Read How Spy I Am Online

Authors: Diane Henders

Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #espionage, #science fiction, #canadian, #technological, #hardboiled, #women sleuths, #calgary

BOOK: How Spy I Am
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“You weren’t out of
line,” he interrupted. “I… uh…” He eyed me shamefacedly. “I was
hung over that morning. Really hung over.”

His gaze sank to study
the shining cutlery of his place setting. “I… After you left my
house in the middle of the night, I was mad at myself for the
things I’d said, but I still hoped we could work it out. But when I
saw you with Hellhound the next night, I realized I’d been fooling
myself all along. That I’d never had a chance with you in the first
place.”

He gave me a quick
glance before speaking to the table again. “So I went home and got
rip-roaring drunk. Stupid. I felt like hell the next morning, and
when you touched me, it was…” He trailed off. “I just lashed out.
I’m sorry.”

“I never wanted to
hurt you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and reached across the
table before stopping myself, not sure what our new rules were. “Is
it okay if I…”

His hand closed gently
around mine. “It’s always okay.”

I traced my fingertips
over his knuckles in silence, letting the stress ease out of my
body to be replaced by a melancholy ache in the vicinity of my
heart.

“I wish…” My words
came out on a sigh.

“Wish what?” he
prompted quietly after a few moments.

I straightened and
retrieved my hand when I spotted the waiter approaching with our
entrées. “I hope you find your happily-ever-after.”

He smiled. “I will. It
just might take me a while to recognize it.”

We dawdled over pecan
pie that was just as delicious as the other restaurant’s ‘best in
Macon’ version, idly chatting about nothing in particular. Soothed
by wine, the return of our old camaraderie, and a magnificent meal
nestling in my belly, I couldn’t suppress a cavernous yawn.

Kane studied me with a
smile. “Ready for an early night tonight?”

I ignored my guilty
spasm of conscience. “Yes. I think I’ll go to bed as soon as we get
back to the B & B.”

I glanced at my watch,
calculating times. Macon wasn’t a huge city. I still had over an
hour to get wherever I needed to go. Wherever that might be.

Inspiration struck. “I
need to find an internet connection first, though. I need to check
my email and a few other things.”

“Me, too,” Kane
agreed. “Lurene said we could use Winston’s computer if we needed
one.”

“Oh, good,” I replied
absently, admiring his unconscious authority as he flagged down the
waiter. He could probably flag down a cab in New York with equal
competence…

I sat up a little
straighter. Hell, yeah. That’d work. Now I had a plan. Forget
stealing the keys and car from Kane. Macon had to have taxis.

Chapter 33

Back at the B & B,
I rapped at the front door and listened for an invitation to enter
before stepping into the sitting area.

“Come in, come in,”
Lurene warbled in her gravelly voice. “Honey-pie, you don’t have to
knock. Our house is your house for as long as you’re here.” She
shot a seductive glance at Kane through lashes even longer and
thicker and blacker than before. “And you can come in my house any
time, Big John.”

I was deeply impressed
by Kane’s self-control. He returned his usual urbane smile and met
her eyes as if nothing was amiss.

I, on the other hand,
couldn’t stop staring. Lurene’s full figure had been compressed
into an exaggerated hourglass shape, and the resulting overflow was
staggering. Her low-cut neon-yellow top displayed an enormous
acreage of boobs pumped up so high she could nearly rest her chin
on them, while a zebra-patterned miniskirt might have covered the
subject if she’d been careful about how she moved. Sadly, she
wasn’t careful.

I averted my eyes from
the scene of the crime as she sank into a chair and crossed plump
legs encased in fishnet stockings. She had very shapely legs, but
it was just too much of a good thing. And I really hadn’t wanted to
know she wasn’t wearing panties. Really, really hadn’t wanted to
know.

Her gravel-crusher
voice jerked my eyes back in her direction. “Arlene, honey, do you
think your producer would like this outfit on me?”

I swallowed hard. “I…
don’t know…” I cleared my throat and tried again, hoping my voice
would sound normal this time. “Those are great shoes, though.”

“Thanks, honeybunch!”
She beamed and stretched out her leg to offer closer inspection of
the six-inch faux zebra-hide platform stiletto. “Would you believe
I got them on sale for ten dollars?”

“Wow. I don’t believe
it.”

Lurene frowned, her
gaze travelling from my sneakers up over my jeans and waist pouch
to my sweatshirt. “Arlene, sweetie, don’t take this wrong, but you
didn’t really go out to dinner dressed like that, did you?”

I squashed the urge to
flee. I really needed that computer.

“Why don’t you dress
up a little?” she continued. “Don’t you want to maintain an image
for your fans?”

“No, I like to keep a
low profile.” I turned quickly to Winston. “Do you mind if I check
my email?”

He looked up from the
screen with his usual pleasant expression. “Of course not. Help
yourself.”

He did a few more
clicks with the mouse while I took my time getting to the desk,
sincerely hoping he was closing whatever he’d been watching.

He rose and wandered
off to the kitchen while I sank into his chair, reaching for the
mouse. Kane had stepped into the breach to chat with Lurene,
seemingly oblivious to both her double-entendres and her
anatomically complete zebra. I quickly fired up an internet search
and punched in the address from my message.

When the map appeared,
I drew in a breath of relief. It was right across the street from
our original motel. If I hiked at a good pace I could easily get
there by nine, and I wouldn’t even need a cab.

Excellent. I closed
the map, made a pretense of checking my email, and then stood,
yawning.

“Long day,” I mumbled,
drifting toward the hallway. “I’m going to bed. Good night,
everybody.”

“Wait, sugar, what
time do you want breakfast tomorrow morning?” Lurene asked.

“Oh.” I cocked an
eyebrow in Kane’s direction. “What do you think?”

“Would eight o’clock
work?” he inquired.

Lurene leaned forward
to squeeze his knee, making me cringe at the impending catastrophic
failure of her clothing. The yellow blouse performed heroically,
though, somehow containing those mountainous mammaries.

“Eight’s just perfect,
sweetie,” she assured him. “Just wait ‘til you get your hands on my
sweet Georgia peaches.”

I escaped down the
hall before I had to hear or see any more.

In my room, I spent a
few minutes moving around as if getting ready for bed, making sure
I walked over the creak in the floor a couple of times. In the
bathroom, I flushed the toilet to cover the sound of the window
opening.

The screen was
uncooperative, and I struggled with it for long minutes, swearing
softly while my blood pressure skyrocketed. I was beginning to
consider slashing it loose from the frame with my knife when it
gave at last, and I set it in the bathtub as quietly as
possible.

Cell phone and tracker
on the bathroom vanity, address in my pocket, I clambered onto the
sill and hopped out into the warm night, thankful for the
ground-floor room.

A brisk hike with only
one minor wrong turn brought me to the address with a few minutes
to spare. In an adjacent doorway, I blew out a breath and wiped the
sweat off my forehead with my sleeve while I scanned the
layout.

The address I’d been
given was a coffee shop, its windows bright against the darkness.
The thought of sitting conspicuously inside didn’t appeal to me in
the least. I threw a glance up and down the quiet street before
heading in the opposite direction to circle behind the shop.

The alleyway did
nothing to calm my nerves. This didn’t seem like a particularly
unsavoury part of town, but the dark shapes of garbage bins loomed
threateningly. I pressed my hand against my gun, forcing myself to
walk through and check each shadow.

My heart was pounding
by the time I reached the other end and emerged into comparative
brightness again, but I was sure nobody was hiding back there. And
I’d identified the back entrance of the coffee shop, just in
case.

I peered at my watch
in the dim pool of light at the corner before settling into a
casual stroll. Yep, I’m just a pedestrian on her way somewhere.
Come on, stomach, settle down. Slow, calm breaths. Ocean waves.

The coffee shop’s
brightly-lit interior displayed the patrons as if on an illuminated
stage. There were only a few people inside, and none of them could
be Robert, even in disguise. A small elderly lady sat at one table,
two teenagers at another, and behind the counter stood a tall,
angular woman dressed as though she shopped at the same store as
Lurene. At the table closest to the window, a man with skin like
chocolate leather turned to stare out at me with thousand-year-old
eyes.

I kept walking and
faded into the darkened alcove of an adjacent doorway, propping
myself in a corner to still my trembling knees. Trying to distract
myself from my nervousness, I noted with cynicism that our fleabag
motel across the street had no cars parked in front of it at all.
Good. Maybe they’d be out of business soon.

Movement caught my
eye, and my heart leaped into my throat when our rental car pulled
up in front of the unit that had been Kane’s. Sucking in a shallow
breath, I pressed backward into the shadows. Goddammit, what was he
doing here?

Kane swung out of the
vehicle and let himself into the motel room. When he emerged a few
minutes later, he strode past the few intervening doors to
disappear into the office.

I shot a wild glance
up and down the street. Worst possible timing, for chrissake! It
was only a couple of minutes after nine. If Robert showed up now,
Kane would spot both of us immediately.

I shifted from foot to
foot, wondering whether to slip around the corner and disappear or
squeeze back into the darkest shadows of the doorway. With my luck,
Kane would come out of the office just as I made my move.

I decided to wait. If
he was straightening out our reservation, he’d emerge any second
now. Keeping still in the darkness would be less conspicuous than
hurrying down the sidewalk.

Minutes lengthened.
What the hell was he doing in there? Another peek up and down the
street showed no sign of Robert. I jammed myself back into the
deepest corner of the doorway and massaged my chest with a
trembling hand, willing my heart to slow its pace. The humid
evening air accentuated my clammy sweat.

Goddammit, something
had to happen. The waiting was killing me.

As if in answer to my
wish, the night erupted in noise and hellish light and a giant hand
slapped me against the building.

Chapter 34

Stunned, I slumped
against the wall behind me, gasping. I didn’t remember sitting
down, but that was definitely concrete under my butt. A second
blast rocked the night, and the fireball that had been our rental
car jerked my mind back to reality.

An instant later,
comprehension arrived with a concussive blow almost as strong as
the original explosion. The end of the motel was completely
flattened. Nothing but a smoking hole remained where our rooms had
been a moment before. The car burned fiercely. Fluffy clumps of
furniture padding floated lazily down over the splintered debris
scattered across the parking lot and halfway into the street.

Completely flattened.
Including the office…

I was on my feet and
running. “
JOHN
!” The scream hurt my throat, but I couldn’t
hear it. I dodged around an upturned bathtub, tripped over a piece
of debris, and fell hard.


John
! Dammit
John,
fuck dammit
!” I could faintly hear my own voice now as
I scrambled up again and sprinted for the remains of the
office.

I was a few yards away
when a tall, broad-shouldered figure rose and stumbled from the
wreckage, pushing aside what might have once been wall panelling. I
flung myself on Kane without slowing, sobbing in helpless relief.
His arms closed around me, and I pulled his head down to smother
him with desperate kisses. My shaking hands found warm stickiness
in his hair, and I pulled away fearfully to examine him for
injuries.

His hand cupped my
chin to tilt my face up to his. I stared at him for a moment before
realizing his lips were moving. I shook my head, cupping a hand
behind my ear, and he grimaced and nodded.

His lips formed the
exaggerated words, “Let’s go,” and his hand closed around my arm to
pull me away from the building. I held back, gesturing my concern
at his torn and bloodied appearance, but he shook his head
irritably and his grip tightened as he jerked his chin at the
gathering crowd.

Good point. Witnesses
were bad, and emergency vehicles couldn’t be far behind. I let him
guide me rapidly into the darkness.

Several minutes’
walking along a convoluted route brought us to a small empty park.
A short distance down the path we found a bench sheltered in the
deep shadow of an overhanging tree, and I fell onto it, trembling
uncontrollably.

Kane sat beside me and
I wrapped my arms around him, huddling close to dispel the
lingering horror of the near-tragedy. We sat in silence while the
ringing in my ears slowly dissipated. When he spoke at last, I
started.

“Can you hear me
now?”

“Yes. It sounds like
you’re talking down a long tube, but I can hear you all right. Can
you hear me?”

He disengaged my arms
and held me away from him, peering at my face. “Can you hear me?” I
repeated a little more loudly.

A shaft of moonlight
illuminated his frown. “Yes. Just. Are you yelling?”

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