Reach For the Spy (16 page)

When we turned the
corner, I straightened and scrubbed my hands over my face, wincing
at the ache in my cheek. “Dammit. He’s becoming a serious
problem.”

“I had a feeling there
was more to this than you were telling me. Fill me in,” Kane
commanded.

I sighed and slouched
back in the seat. “Tom seems to think I have a habit of getting
into abusive relationships. And being the nice guy that he is, he’s
decided that I need rescuing. And in the process, he’s going to get
himself caught in the crossfire. Dammit.”

“Why would he think you
have abusive relationships?”

“Well, first that damn
cover story from March came back and bit me. Small town; rumours;
you know. So he thinks I have an abusive ex-husband for
starters.”

Kane shrugged. “That
should be old news.”

“Yeah, it should have
been. Except he also thinks that Hellhound’s beating me. And now
you.”

Kane’s gaze bored into
me. “Why would he think Hellhound is beating you?”

I sighed again and
stared out the window. “Bad timing, that’s all. Last weekend when
Arnie and I were standing in the driveway, Tom came over. He just
happened to show up when we were horsing around, and he got the
wrong impression.”

“What exactly
happened?”

At the sound of his
carefully controlled cop voice, I glanced over to see his impassive
cop profile. Shit.

“We were just joking
around, but from a distance I guess it would have looked like I was
mad. I had my hands on my hips, and then I yelled and smacked
Arnie, and he grabbed me.”

“That’s pretty hard to
misinterpret,” Kane said dangerously. “What did he do to you?”

I threw up my hands.
“Jeez! You’re his best friend, and you’re still misinterpreting
it.”

“Then enlighten me.”
The steering wheel creaked faintly under his grip.

“Hellhound saw Tom
coming across the yard, and he was bugging me about making time
with cowboys. And then he made some comment about how maybe I
should think about settling down with somebody. You know how I feel
about that.”

“I don’t, actually.”
His voice was neutral.

“Oh. Well, I have no
intention of having any kind of committed relationship in the
foreseeable future. Arnie knows that damn well. And I know he feels
the same way, so I put my hands on my hips and asked him if he was
proposing.”

A snort of laughter
escaped Kane, and I grinned. “That was the first time I’ve ever
seen him scared. It was funny as hell.”

“I would have paid good
money to see that,” Kane agreed. “So then what happened?”

“Well, then Hellhound
started teasing me. Asking me if I was going to settle down and get
attached. That’s when I smacked him and yelled ‘no’. Tom arrived
just then and completely got the wrong idea.”

When I looked over I
saw with relief that the cop face was gone. “So what do you plan to
do about Rossburn?” he asked.

I tugged a couple of
fistfuls of hair. “I don’t have a clue. I already told him plainly
that I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him.”

“You did?”

I glanced over at his
unreadable expression. “Well, yeah, of course. In the first place,
I don’t want a relationship at all. In the second place, even if I
did want one, it would be far too complicated and dangerous to have
one with him. There’s just too much about my life that can’t be
explained right now. And hell, Stemp made it abundantly clear that
anybody who’s close to me is at risk. I’d feel terrible if
something happened to Tom because of me.”

Kane braked at my gate,
and I got out to open it before he could protest. A scrap of paper
was pushed through the shackle of the lock, and I unfolded it while
I stood waiting for Kane to drive through the gate.

‘Sorry I missed you.
Call me when you got a couple minutes.’ I recognized Hellhound’s
scrawl.

“You promised you could
do it in less than two minutes, buddy,” I muttered, grinning.

I stuffed the paper
into my pocket and got back into the truck. Kane glanced over.
“What was that?”

“Just a note. I missed
a visitor.”

“Mm. So do you want any
help dealing with Rossburn?”

“No, not at the moment.
I don’t know what you could do anyway. If I think of anything, I’ll
let you know.”

He parked in front of
the house. “Do you want a hand getting into the house?”

“No, I’m fine.” I
reached for the door handle.

“Aydan? Take it easy
this weekend. Get some sleep.”

“I will. Assuming my
nocturnal callers let me. Maybe I’ll sleep outside.”

He eyed me doubtfully.
“Are you serious?”

“Possibly. Depends on
whether I get any more calls like last night.”

“You shouldn’t...” He
stopped and blew out a breath. “Carry your phone with you if you
do.”

“I will.”

I dragged myself into
the hot house and opened all the windows. The outside temperature
wasn’t much cooler, but at least a breeze blew through. I flopped
down on the sofa to think. What the hell was I going to do about
Tom?

I jerked awake when the
phone rang and squinted at my watch as I stumbled toward the noise.
Seven o’clock. I must have been more tired than I’d realized.

I didn’t recognize the
number on the call display, and I picked up the receiver with
trepidation. “Hello?”

“Hi, Aydan!” The sound
of Lola’s throaty voice made me smile.

“Hi, Lola, what’s
up?”

“Girls’ night out is
what’s up. I’m getting a bunch of the girls together, and thought
you might like to join us. Are you free tomorrow night?”

I was pleased and
flattered that she’d ask me, but the thought of going out made my
head ache. All I wanted to do was stay home and hibernate.

“Thanks, Lola, that’s
nice of you to ask. But I haven’t been feeling well lately, and I
think I’ll just stay home and rest.”

“I thought you were
looking a little peaked on Tuesday,” she said. “A little pick-me-up
would do you good.”

“You’re probably right.
But right now, what I want more than anything is a decent night’s
sleep.”

“Well, I hope you feel
better in the morning, then. Give me a call if you change your
mind, honey.”

“Thanks, Lola, I
will.”

I hung up the phone
smiling. I was so lucky to have such nice clients. I headed for the
kitchen in search of supper, feeling better about life in
general.

I was just about to
haul my full belly out to the garden for a therapeutic weeding
session when the phone rang again. I picked up hesitantly, not
recognizing the number.

“Hi, Aydan, how are you
feeling?” Tom’s voice. Shit.

“Fine, thanks, Tom.
How’s your horse? I forgot to ask you this afternoon.”

“Oh, he’s fine. The
grandkids fed him a bunch of green apples yesterday, that’s
all.”

“You have
grandkids?”

“Emily is three, and
Jackson is four and a half. My son Cory and his wife are out from
the city for a holiday.”

“Well, that should keep
you hopping.”

He laughed. “That’s for
sure. Actually, that’s part of the reason why I’m calling. Every
year around this time, Cory brings the family out, and my folks and
I get together and invite all the neighbours over for a potluck. I
wondered if you’d like to come tomorrow night.”

“Um.”

I thought furiously.
Any other time, I would have appreciated the neighbourly
invitation. If things had been different, I might have even
appreciated the neighbour himself. In more ways than one. I shook
my head and refocused.

“Thanks, Tom, I really
appreciate the invitation. Ordinarily, I’d love to, but I’m busy
tomorrow night,” I lied uncomfortably.

“Oh, what are you up
to? You could come by for a little while before or after if you
wanted. People come and go all evening.”

Nnngh! I grasped at the
first straw that came to mind. “I’m doing a girls’ night out with
some friends. It sounds like it’s going to take up most of the
evening. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay, I should
have asked you sooner. Have a good time, then.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

I hung up and groaned.
Lies always come back to bite me in the ass.

There was no help for
it. I called Lola and told her I’d be there.

After a pleasant
evening outside, I crept into bed early. For the first time in
days, my muscles weren’t vibrating with tension. I eased myself
into a comfortable position that didn’t hurt my bruised chest, and
fell asleep.

Until the phone rang.
At two A.M.

I pried open gummy eyes
to peer at the call display. Private caller.

“Hello?”

“How much for a
blowjob?”

“Blow yourself. Or get
your mother to do it for you. She’s probably good at it.” I slammed
the phone down. It immediately rang again, and I ignored it.

“Fuck this,” I said out
loud for the benefit of the bugs. “I’ll sleep in the fucking
garage.”

I got dressed and
gathered up my pillow, sleeping bag, and ancient air mattress,
stuffing my cell phone in my pocket. In the garage I made a cozy
nest in the corner of the smooth concrete floor. Soothed by the
happy smells of engine oil and warm rubber, I drifted off almost
immediately.

I woke once when I
rapped my knuckles sharply against the wall in the throes of a
violent nightmare, but I managed to get back to sleep again. When I
finally opened my eyes, the garage was bright with the beams of the
mid-morning sun.

I rolled over slowly
and stretched. That was the best sleep I’d had in a week. I yawned
my way into the house and headed for the bathroom. The phone rang
again as I stepped out of the shower, and I ignored it. I hadn’t
been screaming. No need to pick up.

It rang twice more
while I sat at the breakfast table. I saw ‘private caller’ on the
display, and resisted the urge to answer the phone and make the
caller’s ear bleed. Instead, I took a deep breath and wandered out
to my beloved garden again.

After a pleasant day of
solitude outside, I faced the prospect of an evening out with
moderate good humour, even though I was going to have to make an
attempt to dress up a bit. I wasn’t sure what girls’ night out
involved, exactly, but I probably needed to be wearing something
better than a sweat-stained T-shirt and baggy, dirt-encrusted
jeans.

As I changed my
clothes, I remembered my car was still in Silverside, parked at
Sirius Dynamics. I debated for a few seconds, and then grinned and
headed for the garage.

A few minutes later I
fired up my ’66 Corvette convertible and let its throaty rumble
carry me down the road. On the highway, I nobly resisted the urge
to let my horses run. The warm wind lifted my hair and the heavy
vibration of the big 427 soothed my body like a massaging
chair.

When I drove into
Silverside, the single stoplight turned red at my approach. As
usual.

I pulled to a stop and
let the ‘Vette wind down into a lolloping idle. The car shuddered
with suppressed power while the lumpy cam churned out its
brute-force rhythm, and I beamed with the pure joy that only
excessive horsepower can bring.

A movement caught my
eye, and I glanced over to see a tall, broad-shouldered figure
astride a black BMW K1300R pull up beside me at the light. Teeth
gleamed behind his helmet’s face shield as he revved his
engine.

I gave him a feral grin
and goosed the accelerator. The big engine let out an equally feral
roar. You wanna play, baby?

We gunned our engines a
couple more times, grinning at each other until the light changed.
I knew I didn’t have a chance in hell of taking a motorcycle off
the line, so I didn’t even try.

Instead, I smoked the
tires in a short but satisfying brakestand. Then I drove sedately
past Kane, who had pulled up about half a block further on. I
tossed him an innocent wave and rumbled on down the street toward
Up & Coming.

As I parked, he pulled
in behind me and swung off his bike. “That the best you’ve got?” he
kidded as he strode over.

“You’re just sorry you
don’t have a sexy car like mine.”

“I’ve got a sexy
bike.”

I grinned up at him.
“Yeah, but you can’t beat the sound of a muscle-car. Your little
sewing machine engine just can’t compete with that.”

“True. That’s not the
stock cam, is it?”

“Hell, no.”

We leaned comfortably
over the open hood, discussing tuning and trading good-natured
insults until I spied Lola crossing the street. She waved and
appraised Kane’s black riding chaps and broad, leather-clad
shoulders with frank appreciation as she drew up to us.

“Nice!” she commented,
looking him up and down.

The corner of his mouth
quirked up. “Thanks.” The sexy laugh lines around his eyes crinkled
as he regarded her vivid purple hair and stiletto heels.

I hastened to introduce
them. “Lola, this is John Kane. He’s one of my clients. John, this
is Lola Ives. She runs Up & Coming along with Linda Burton, her
granddaughter.”

Kane stooped slightly
to engulf her tiny hand in his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too, Big John.”
She winked.

I used the excuse of
closing the hood to turn away and hide my grin at the reference.
The way those riding chaps focused attention on the good stuff, I
definitely knew where she was coming from. I’d been trying not to
look. Really trying.

Well, maybe not
really.

I herded my mind out of
the gutter as Lola turned to me. “Come on, Aydan. Let’s get this
show on the road.”

“Okay.” I turned to
Kane. “Enjoy your ride.”

“I will. Oh, do you
want me to swing by and pick you up Monday morning so you can take
your car home Monday night? Your other, boring car.”

“Watch your mouth. I
love that car!”