How Spy I Am (35 page)

“My thought exactly.
How long have you been out here?”

“Only a few minutes.
You?”

“I came out as soon as
I finished my report to Stemp.”

“You’re way ahead of
me,” I said ruefully.

“Not really. You got
the drop on me.”

“Oh.” Surprise tied my
tongue for a moment. “I guess. But you were watching for threats
arriving from outside the yard. I came from inside.”

“You don’t need to
make excuses for me. You’re good. But that doesn’t surprise me,
considering how long you’ve been undercover.”

I started to argue
before remembering dishonesty was the best policy. Grateful for the
darkness that concealed my guilty expression, I twitched my
shoulders and muttered, “Thanks.”

“See, that wasn’t so
hard, was it?” The playful teasing in his voice made me smile in
spite of myself.

“Harder than you can
imagine.”

“I can understand
that.” He sounded serious again. “Will you trust me to take shifts
guarding the house tonight? I’ll be more careful-”

“Of course I trust
you,” I interrupted. “If I’d known you were out here, I wouldn’t
have worried for a minute. Do you want to go first, or should
I?”

“Why don’t you go in
and get some sleep?” His warm hand engulfed my icy one. “You’re
shaking.”

“Okay. Wake me
whenever you’re ready. Just call my cell phone. I’ll leave it on
vibrate.”

“All right. Good
night.”

“Good night.” I headed
for the house, heartily sick of crawling in and out of windows.

In bed again, I lay
fully dressed and shivering under the covers.

Okay. Everything was
okay. Kane was on guard outside. Nothing bad could happen. Just get
a few hours sleep.

My shivering slowed as
warmth crept into my fingers and toes, and my eyelids began to
droop at last. I drifted in hazy pre-sleep limbo, glimpses of the
day flitting through my mind’s eye. The fireball, Kane rising from
the wreckage, Betty’s fixed stare…

“Betty! Shit!” I
bolted up again, hissing obscenities as I flung the covers aside
and sprang out of bed to hurry across to the dresser.

Next cell phone. I
punched the speed dial.

“Yes.” Stemp sounded
just as wide-awake as before, and I would have spared him a moment
of admiration if I hadn’t been so worried.

“We have a potential
security breach,” I snapped.

“Details.”

“Betty has all my
memories inside her head.
All
my memories. All my classified
knowledge.”

I spoke again in the
moment of silence that followed. “She’s uncommunicative at the
moment so we’re still safe, but I don’t know when that might
change.”

“I’ll deal with it.
Anything else?”

“Not at the
moment.”

“Good catch.” The line
went dead.

I staggered back to
the bed and slid between the cooling covers for, Christ, what, the
third time tonight? Or fourth? Whatever. I’d lost count, and I
probably didn’t want to know anyway.

I was just drifting
off when my phone vibrated.

Fresh adrenaline
suffused me as I snatched at it, punching the talk button to
whisper, “Hello?”

Nothing. I peered at
the dark display for an uncomprehending second before pushing my
face into the pillow with a whimper. Must’ve been a wrong number.
Tonight of all nights.

I lay smothering in
pillow and self-pity for a few moments before slow comprehension
dawned. I groaned and flopped over to recheck the phone. Sure
enough, there was a text message: ‘Call home’.

Shivering beside the
dresser again, I hauled out another phone and hit the speed
dial.

“Yes.”

I was too tired for
niceties. “It’s Arlene. What.”

“Be at the airport at
eleven hundred hours tomorrow for extraction. Report to Captain
Nassman.”

My burnt-out brain
refused to compute. “Nassman. Airport, eleven hundred hours,” I
repeated stupidly. After a moment, it seemed he was waiting for
something else. “Confirmed,” I added, wondering if that was the
right thing to say. It must have been, because the line went dead
in my ear.

I stumbled across the
room and fell back into bed for the umpteenth time.

True to his word, Kane
woke me for a shift change around four-thirty A.M. I’d been
secretly hoping he’d play the white knight and let me sleep, but
apparently my new status as an agent exempted me from any such
chivalrous behaviour.

By the time he
relieved me in the back yard at seven, I was so tired I wouldn’t
have noticed an entire platoon of evil bombers even if they’d
surrounded me and sung a rousing chorus of ‘Another One Bites the
Dust’.

Feeling marginally
more human after a long hot shower, I sleepwalked down the hall,
following the delicious aroma emanating from the kitchen.

Fortunately, I had
insufficient energy left for shock and horror when I turned the
corner.

Lurene’s considerable
assets overflowed a red satin corset with matching string-bikini
bottoms and garters. She had finished the ensemble with a sheer,
marabou-trimmed negligee, black stockings, and red spike-heeled
marabou mules, and the overall effect was… festive.

Yeah, that was it.
Festive.

I smothered a yawn and
wished her good morning. She turned to greet me and shot a glance
down the hallway.

“Your big hot hunk of
man’s out sitting in the back garden,” she informed me. She leaned
closer, eyes sparkling. “Honey-pie, what did you do to that poor
man last night? He looks like he got hog-tied and dragged through a
thornbush.”

I slumped into a chair
and massaged my aching temples. “Nothing.”

“Nothing!” She threw
up her hands. “I don’t mean to be rude, sugar, but the two of y’all
were shaking the whole house. Why, I thought your bed was going to
come right on through the wall, y’all were going at it so
hard.”

“Look who’s talking,”
I mumbled before I could stop myself.

Lurene let out a
guffaw that rattled the chandelier and flung her arms around me. I
was trying to extract myself from tickly feathers and smothering
cleavage when she let go and bellowed another laugh.

“Honey-bun, y’all are
the best thing that ever happened to my sex life! That Winston was
an animal last night. I haven’t had sex that good since our
honeymoon! When y’all started up next door, it was like he was
eighteen again. Lord-a-mercy!” She fanned herself, giggling.

“Great,” I muttered.
“That’s great.”

Lurene swooped close
again with her confidential growl. “Did you get any sleep at all
last night?”

“Couple of hours.”

“Oh, my heavens,
honey, no wonder you look like something the cat dragged in. Here,
you start with this. Build up your strength.”

She slipped a dish
onto the placemat in front of me, and the mouthwatering scent of
peaches made me sit up straighter. When I dug into the concoction,
it turned out to be a sort of fluffy creampuff affair, not too
sweet and thoroughly delicious.

I was gobbling
enthusiastically when Lurene returned to her interrogation. “Is Big
John really hung like a horse?”

It was hard to be mad
at her with a mouthful of creamy, peachy heaven. “What do you
think?” I mumbled, and stuffed in another spoonful.

“Ooooh!” Her hands
fluttered in salacious approval. “You lucky, lucky girl!” When I
didn’t respond, her brows drew together as she apparently thought
it through. Her voice dropped to as near a whisper as a
gravel-crusher can manage. “Oh, honeybunch, you did him all night
long? How can you even
walk
?”

I gave up any hope of
dignity or privacy. “I’m a professional.”

I was zipping up my
suitcase when Kane tapped on the open door and stuck his head in my
room. “Ready for your public appearance?”

“Oh, God, now
what?”

He slipped inside and
swung the door shut behind him. “I called the local newspaper and
television station and gave them an anonymous tip that Arlene
Cherry was staying at this B & B after her motel room was
bombed. That’ll stir up some media excitement, and we’ll tell the
reporters we’re leaving Macon for good. That way our bomber will
know we’re gone and Lurene and Winston will be safe.”

I blew out a breath of
relief. “I was worrying about that. Good thinking.”

“Well, Ms. Cherry?” He
shot me a wicked grin. “Are you sure you don’t want to dress up for
your public? How about a red corset and high heels?”

“Dream on.”

When we emerged onto
the verandah, I was relieved to see only a small handful of
reporters and cameras. Macon wasn’t a big place, and Kane hadn’t
given them much advance notice.

I had only taken a few
steps when a camera and microphone were shoved in my face. “Miss
Cherry, what a shocking near miss for you! Tell us how you
feel!”

Kane’s powerful arm
closed around me as he pressed us slowly toward the waiting taxi.
“Ms. Cherry is thankful for her escape, but deeply saddened by the
death of the motel manager,” he said smoothly.

“Who’s trying to kill
you?”

We progressed a few
more steps toward freedom as Kane answered again. “Investigators
have determined the explosion was caused by a gas leak. It was
definitely not a deliberate attempt on Ms. Cherry’s life.”

I had to admire his
deviousness. Tell them about a bomb in an anonymous tip and then
deny it in person. Great way to stir up controversy.

We managed a few more
steps.

“Miss Cherry, Miss
Cherry! Were you doing a shoot here in Macon? What are your
plans?”

We gained the taxi,
and I stuffed my suitcase inside and clambered after it while Kane
dealt with the reporter. “Ms. Cherry is not at liberty to discuss
her current projects, but a prior commitment requires her to leave
Macon this morning.”

“Yoo-hooo!” Lurene’s
booming voice made the reporters glance toward her, and jaws
dropped at the sight of her outfit.

Somebody muttered,
“Holy sh…”, and a couple of cameras swung in Lurene’s direction.
Kane seized the opportunity to slide into the taxi beside me.

“Go,” he said to the
cab driver.

As we pulled away,
Lurene’s voice drifted faintly through the open window. “Let me
tell y’all, having Arlene Cherry staying here was just…”

One news van pursued
us all the way to the airport. The reporter caught up to us as we
got out of the cab, but Kane simply said, “Ms. Cherry has no
further comment,” and kept repeating, “No comment,” as we strode
through the airport. At the security area, he guided me briskly
inside before sidestepping rapidly to stand around the corner, just
out of sight of the camera crew.

The security guard
descended on us immediately, but after a short, inaudible
conversation with Kane, he returned to his post and ignored us
while we stood leaning against the wall.

Several minutes later,
he nodded in our direction, and Kane straightened and returned a
nod of gratitude. “Let’s go,” he said.

“They’re gone?”

“Yes. This isn’t
exactly Hollywood.”

“Thank God.”

We emerged warily, but
nobody paid any attention to us while we walked back out of the
airport and got in another taxi.

I shot an anxious
glance at my watch. “Shit, we have to be back here at eleven, and I
still wanted some time to check out the network.”

When we walked into
the reception area, Candy’s sunny smile was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded, dread rising in my heart as I took in
her reddened eyes and trembling hands.

“Oh, Ms. Widdenback,”
she whispered. “Everything’s wrong. Dr. Cartwright passed on
yesterday. They couldn’t save him.” She sniffled and dabbed at her
eyes with a balled-up tissue.

“Oh, Candy, I’m
sorry,” I said. “He seemed like a nice man.”

“I don’t know how
we’ll go on without him,” she quavered. “He’s… He had been here
since… forever. Decades. And Betty… she needs him now, so much…”
She pulled a fresh tissue from the box on her desk and held it to
her eyes for a moment before straightening.

“I’m sorry,” she said
tremulously. “I don’t mean to be such a mess. We’re so grateful to
y’all for what you’re doing for Betty. I can’t tell you what it
means to her family that total strangers would pay for her trip all
the way up to Canada, and for all her treatment at your hospital,
too.”

Comprehension kicked
my gut, and I forced my suddenly stiff lips to curve upward. “We’ll
do our best to help her. When will she be leaving?”

Candy returned a
watery smile. “That nice Mr. Stemp made all the arrangements, and
they came for her first thing this morning. She’s already on her
way.”

“Oh… good…” I turned
away before she could read my face and sank into one of the chairs.
Stemp’s voice pounded in my brain like a mocking echo. ‘I’ll deal
with it.’ My rich breakfast churned in my stomach.

“Arlene?” Kane
stooped, frowning. “Are you all right?”

“Just… give me a
minute…”

Stemp had abducted
Betty. Right under the noses of her co-workers and family. Goddamn
him, if he arranged for an “accident” for her, I’d kill him with my
own hands. Walk right into his office and shoot him between his
snake eyes. Send him straight to hell where he could burn for all
eternity.

“You’re white as a
sheet. Do you feel faint?” Kane’s warm hand smoothed the hair back
from my damp forehead. “Put your head between your knees.”

“No… I’m okay.”

I’d stop him somehow.
I’d find a way. Cassandra would get her grandmother back,
dammit.

A few more deep
breaths won the battle with breakfast, and I braced trembling hands
on my knees to straighten.

“Ms. Widdenback…?”
Candy’s quaver made me turn to see her tear-stained face hovering
anxiously beside my chair. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Widdenback, but
there’s an urgent call for you. He says he has to speak with you
immediately.”