Chapter 24
Trembling, I pulled into the nearest parking lot and dialled Holt’s number.
The phone rang once.
Twice…
“Greg Holt, Realtor. It’s a great day to sell your house!”
“Hi,” I croaked, then cleared my throat and tried again. “Can you meet for coffee in twenty minutes?”
“Sure thing,” he said breezily. “The usual place?”
“Yeah. See you there.”
I disconnected and sat staring at the phone. Should I call Stemp?
No. I had no new facts to report except that I apparently couldn’t count; and Hellhound had stood me up. Not exactly a useful update.
I tried Arnie’s burner number again but there was still no answer. Blowing out a tension-filled breath, I put my car in gear and headed for my meeting with Holt.
My mind flitted like a distracted sparrow, pecking at each possibility only to drop it and jump to the next.
What if Labelle had hired an assassin to pick me off as I went into the restaurant tonight? Or worse, abduct me and torture some critical piece of information out of me? Should I get Holt to come to the restaurant for backup?
But if Kane had something urgent to tell me, somebody needed to meet him. And with hundreds of innocent civilian lives at stake, I couldn’t ditch my mission.
And what about Arnie and Nichele and Dante?
Dammit, I needed to meet Kane…
When I arrived at the coffee shop, the red Audi with its Realtor signs was already in the parking lot. Inside, Holt rose to greet me with one of his shit-eating grins and a hearty handshake.
I dragged my lips into an answering smile and chose an herbal tea before seating myself at the table Holt had claimed in a quiet corner.
“Is Nichele okay?” I asked as my butt landed in the chair.
“Yeah. Nobody following her but me.”
I flopped back in relief. “Thank God. At least that’s one less thing I have to worry about.” Hugging my paper cup, I reported Labelle’s worrisome arrangements for six o’clock as well as my conversations with Riel and Kane, conveniently omitting the details of Kane’s time-counting code. “…so I can’t meet Kane at six and I don’t have a clue what his ‘situation’ is,” I finished. “It didn’t sound good, though.”
Holt scowled. “That’s not related to our mission. Kane’s a civvie now. Let him deal with his own shit.”
I held onto my temper and kept my voice level. “James was following him and words were exchanged. James is related to our mission.”
“That doesn’t make Kane related to our mission. And there’s no evidence that James has anything to do with it, either. Just because Riel and Tawny Harchman know him, that doesn’t mean squat. They probably know a shitload of people.” Holt crossed his arms and leaned back, his scowl deepening. “You want to know what I think?”
“No, but you’re probably going to tell me,” I muttered, but he was already talking over me.
“I think you’ve got a hard-on for James because he beat the hell out of you and your friends. I get it; the guy’s a fucking waste of skin and you want to see him go down. But leave your personal shit out of this, Kelly. Focus on the mission.”
“I am focused on the mission,” I snapped. “Listen, Kane wasn’t just calling to say ‘Hi, let’s get together for coffee’. He used a secret code from our first op together. He wouldn’t have done that without a damn good reason.”
Holt’s frown turned thoughtful. “Huh.” He sat in silence for a moment before adding, “Okay. I’ll meet him. But you damn well better not get yourself killed while I’m doing it. Stemp would have my ass.”
I snorted. “If I’m busy getting killed, your ass will be the least of my worries.”
“So have you reported Kane’s call to Stemp?”
“Um…”
Holt scowled. “You haven’t, have you?”
“I haven’t had time,” I began, then stiffened my spine. Dammit, I wasn’t going to let Holt intimidate me. “And I don’t intend to unless it turns out to be relevant,” I said firmly. “I’m trusting my gut, but I don’t have enough to report yet.”
“Huh.” He eyed me levelly. “Yeah, okay. I always trust those gut feelings, too. If you’re sure.”
I hesitated. If Kane only wanted to vent about Alicia or talk about Daniel, I was risking my life and my tenuous reputation as an agent for nothing.
But surely he wouldn’t have used that code unless he needed to discuss something critical.
“Good. Thanks,” I said. “Let me know as soon as you talk to him. Nobody’s been listening in on me yet, but I’m sure that’ll change once I’m with Riel. So if you need to get in touch with me you’ll have to be creative. I’ll check in with you as soon as I’m clear of Riel after dinner.”
At least if something disastrous happened to me at six o’clock, Holt would know within an hour or two…
Somehow that thought wasn’t as comforting as I’d hoped.
“No problem,” Holt replied. “After I make contact with Kane I’ll use the Realtor phone and leave you a message that I have a potential buyer for Dante’s house and for you to call me ASAP.”
“Perfect.”
I was just beginning to rise when Holt asked casually, “So how long have you been screwing him?”
“What?” My knees gave way and I plopped back into the chair. “What the hell did you just say?”
Holt gave me a long-suffering look. “How long have you and Kane been screwing? Hell, Kelly, I know how it goes. You work a few ops together and get close; shit happens, right?”
“Wha…” I closed my flapping jaw with a glare and snapped, “What, you screw all your female partners so you figure everybody else does, too?”
“Not all of them.” He gave me an appraising look as though gauging my potential as a bedmate. “Most, though. It just seems to happen that way.”
“It just happens?” I summoned up some righteous indignation in an attempt to hide the truth. “Well, news flash, Romeo: it’s not going to happen this time. Keep it in your pants, and I won’t cut it off.” I rose. “I’ll text you from Harchman’s when I can. If you don’t hear from me by ten tomorrow morning, the shit’s hit the fan and I need backup.”
Holt leaned back, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Nice redirection. Well played, Kelly. Talk to you later.”
I marched out under his knowing gaze, back straight and cheeks flaming.
Driving toward Kane’s meeting place again in time for five o’clock, I tried to reassure myself with positive thoughts. He’d be there. Maybe he’d only been late before, and I’d left just before he arrived. He’d find some way to communicate…
A fast survey of the parking lot a few minutes later made my heart sink. No black Expedition.
But maybe he was driving a different vehicle. Dammit, why hadn’t I thought of that an hour ago? What if he’d been waiting here and we’d missed each other because I was too dumb to go and stand at the designated place?
Muttering curses under my breath, I parked and trotted over to the back door of the coffee shop. Leaning against the wall and trying look unobtrusive, I made a mental note to buy a pack of cigarettes for situations like this. At least if I had a cigarette in my hand, I’d have a reason for loitering outside in the chill of the rapidly-approaching dusk.
I compromised by pulling out my phone as if texting somebody, but I still felt far too conspicuous. The rancid stink of a nearby garbage dumpster made my stomach shift uneasily.
At five after five, I had to admit defeat. I’d missed him. Or he hadn’t come at all.
Or wait; maybe he’d left a message for me…
After a glance around the parking lot, I made a quick hop, skimming my fingertips across the top of the door frame beside me; then hopped again to check for anything on top of the wall-mounted light fixture.
All I gained was a layer of gritty filth on my hand.
Sighing, I trudged back to my car. I had exactly enough time to drive to Arnie’s place, change my clothes, and get to the restaurant in time to meet Riel…
Hope flooded me. Maybe Arnie was home by now. Or maybe he’d left a message for me with Miss Lacey.
Heart beating fast, I swung into my car and hit the gas.
“No, I’m sorry, Arnold didn’t leave you a message.” Miss Lacey’s sharp black eyes measured me. “He merely said he had to leave on another job and asked me to care for John Lee until he returned.”
“Did he say when he was coming back?”
“No, his work is unpredictable and generally takes him away for several days at a time. Is there anything with which I may assist you?”
“No.” The word fell between us like a tepid lump, and I attempted a smile and added, “Thank you, though. But… did you notice, was he with anyone when he left? Or was he carrying anything?”
Her brow furrowed. “He was alone and carrying his rucksack as usual. May I inquire why you’re asking? Is anything wrong?”
My tension eased. He hadn’t been abducted. Thank God.
“N-no… I don’t think so. It’s just… he sounded odd when he called me and I’m worried.”
Her face softened. “Aydan… I don’t know how to put this tactfully, so I shall be blunt and hope you understand that I mean no offense. Arnold has longstanding emotional issues which make him irrationally afraid of commitment. You are the only woman he has ever allowed into his life, even peripherally; and it may be that he is withdrawing because he fears you are becoming too close. You would be wise to give him space.”
I drew a deep breath. “Thanks, Miss Lacey. I know about his commitment phobia and we have an arrangement that’s comfortable for both of us. I don’t think it’s that…” I trailed off.
Hell, maybe it was. Maybe he’d been lying about being okay with me staying at his place and doing his laundry. Maybe he was running scared.
“No, I really don’t think so,” I said, half to myself and half to Miss Lacey. “If he was running scared, he wouldn’t have said he loved me before he hung up.”
A small choking noise interrupted my reverie, and I blinked back to the present and Miss Lacey’s goggle eyes. “He… he said he loved you?” she demanded. “My heavens! My… My dear, that is… simply… marvellous!”
“Oh. No, it’s not what you think,” I assured her. “We both know there’s no commitment attached to that. Nothing’s changed between us. He lives his life and I live mine. No strings attached.”
A smile softened her lips and her eyes were bright. “Unconditional acceptance is love in its truest form. I never thought I would live to see my beloved Arnold find that level of trust with anyone. You have made this old woman very happy today.”
I shuffled my feet. “Well, um… I’m glad, I guess, but…”
“Try not to worry.” She patted my hand. “I’m sure Arnold will return in time for Remembrance Day. It is a meaningful time for him, and he always takes me to attend the service at Battalion Park. In all the years I’ve known him, he has never missed it.”
A chill slithered down my spine. “Um… Miss Lacey… have you been following the news lately? Maybe you should skip the Remembrance Day service this year.”
“Of course I read the news, dear.” She straightened, black eyes snapping and mouth firming. “And I most certainly shall not allow some cowardly terrorist to prevent me from expressing my respect and gratitude to those who offered their lives in exchange for my freedom and safety.”
“But do you really think those veterans would want you to risk your safety now?” I pleaded. “Maybe this year you could-”
She held up a fragile blue-veined hand. “Excuse me for interrupting you, Aydan, but please save your breath. At my age I have little left to lose except my self-respect. I would rather die than surrender to craven fearmongers.”
I drew a deep breath. Maybe Arnie could talk her out of it, or simply refuse to take her to the service. Or maybe he wouldn’t get back in time.
Or maybe he’d never come back…
I fought off the tightening of my throat and held my voice level. “Okay, I won’t argue with you. So… I might be staying at Arnie’s place for the next few days. Don’t worry if you hear me coming and going. I’m sorry I won’t be here reliably enough to feed Hooker, though.”
“It’s quite all right, dear.” She smiled. “I enjoy my times with John Lee. He is an agreeable companion.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at my watch. “Well, I’d better get going. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“It’s no bother at all. If Arnold returns I shall tell him to contact you immediately. Have a pleasant evening.”
“Thanks, Miss Lacey. You, too.”
She withdrew into her apartment and I crossed the hall to Arnie’s door, anxiety tightening my neck and shoulders. Hooker made his usual break for freedom, and I scooped him up and deposited him unceremoniously on the mat inside the apartment, closing the door behind me.
When he made for the kitchen with purposeful meows, I shook my head. “Sorry, big guy. Miss Lacey will be giving you supper in half an hour, and I barely have time to get changed and get out of here.”
I skinned out of my jeans and donned slacks and a blouse under his indignant yellow gaze, then let myself out before I could change my mind.
My car clock read five-fifty as I circled the block around the restaurant, searching for potential threats and a parking place with equal vigilance. After shoehorning my car into a spot that would likely require a can opener to extract it later, I drew a deep breath and consulted my bug detector again.
Its green light glowed as steadily as ever.
Still nobody tracking me.
But why would they? Riel knew exactly where I was going to be.
I cast a nervous glance around me. Crammed between a panel van on one side and a half-ton truck on the other, my car would be almost invisible unless somebody walked right up to it.
And if somebody planted a bomb under it while I was eating dinner, the blast would be nicely contained by the surrounding vehicles…
“Cut it out,” I admonished myself. “Riel doesn’t want to kill you. He still wants something from you. Labelle could have been making a deal for six o’clock with anybody. It might have been sheer coincidence.”
Wishing I could believe that, I unfastened my seatbelt and cracked open my door.
Struck by a sudden thought, I closed the door again and leaned back in my seat.
It wouldn’t matter if I was a few minutes late, and by then Holt would have met Kane at six and I could get his report in solitude instead of trying to disguise my conversation in front of Riel.
Not to mention that it might put a crimp in Labelle’s plans if he’d scheduled an attack on me.
The minutes dragged slowly past.
My anal-retentive bookkeeper’s persona squirmed at the embarrassment of being late without calling, but I squashed her determinedly. Patience.
At ten after six I was completely out of patience and almost at the end of my scant store of endurance when my phone rang at last. The call display said GHoltRealtor, and I punched the Talk button with a shaking finger.
“Hello?”
“This is Greg Holt, Realtor calling. I waited as long as I could, but that potential buyer didn’t show up. Let me know if you hear from him again, okay? We can arrange a showing for him at another time.”
My heart turned to lead and plummeted to the pit of my stomach. “Oh… That’s, um… too bad. I’ll… I’ll let you know if I hear from him… but…” I squeezed my eyes shut in chagrin. “Maybe I got the time wrong. Maybe it was eight, not six.”
“What?” Holt’s voice rose in irritation. “How could you mistake eight for six?”
“It was a bad phone connection and I was having trouble hearing,” I croaked. “I’m sorry. Could you please try again at eight?”
“Of course.” The words sounded as though they were being strained through his clenched teeth. “The customer is always right. I’ll be in touch.”
I disconnected, my mouth dry. Why hadn’t Kane come? Had I totally misinterpreted his message?
Or had he vanished after a single phone call like Dante and Arnie?