Chapter 35
The sense of unreality slowly faded while I trotted back to the guesthouse, suspiciously testing each door handle. Everything remained solid, and by the time I let myself into my room again I was convinced that I was truly in the real world.
My bug detector still indicated all clear, and I sank onto the bed with a sigh. The memory of those few blissful hours of sleep in Kane’s arms made me stifle a whimper of self-pity.
My eyelids dipped in spite of me and I shook myself back to wakefulness.
Think.
I dragged myself off the bed to pace in tight circles.
I was getting nowhere with Riel.
Well, fuck him. If he was ‘all about the game’, we could play by my rules for a while. If he wanted the weapon by tomorrow, my departure should shake his complacency.
I paced another circuit.
But Riel as the terrorist just didn’t make sense. If he needed the weapon in time for Remembrance Day, he would have made an offer by now. What the hell was I missing?
Blowing out a breath of frustration, I grabbed my phone and texted “1 PM coffee” to Holt’s burner phone. Stemp likely would have told him about my check-in last night, but Holt might still be expecting the contact I’d originally promised. I could only imagine his contempt if I screwed up something so basic.
I tossed the phone back onto the bed and paced some more. At least brunch would give me one more chance to observe Kane and Tawny together.
What the hell was Kane doing? Should I offer him a pretext to leave? Or was he secretly hoping I’d go away so he could conduct his business with Tawny?
And what business might that be?
And what if Stemp decided Kane’s presence here posed too much of a security risk?
Don’t think about that.
Blowing out a breath, I headed for the bathroom to attempt a presentable appearance for brunch.
When I strolled into the salon at ten AM doing my best imitation of confidence, I discovered that my acting skills had been wasted. Nobody was there.
A table in the corner of the huge room was laid for six, so I drifted in that direction. A moment later one of the uniformed staff hurried out of a swinging door.
“Good morning, Ms. Widdenback,” she greeted me. “Won’t you please sit down? May I bring you coffee, tea, or juice?”
“Green tea, please. And orange juice. Thank you.” I selected a place that positioned my back against the wall while giving me a view of all the entrances, and slid into the chair.
My tea and juice arrived in minutes, along with a menu hand-written in calligraphy with scrolls and flourishes. I was studying it with my mouth watering when Riel strode in.
“Allô again,” he said with a smile as he took the seat beside me.
Without asking his preferences, the server placed a cup of black coffee and a glass of tomato juice in front of him. “Don’t worry, I washed your cup and glass separately by hand,” she murmured.
Riel thanked her graciously before turning back to me. “The food is all wonderful, but the smoked salmon eggs benedict…” He closed his eyes in an expression of rapture. “…they are magnifique.”
I eyed him for an instant, wondering whether he had doubts about the cleanliness of the kitchen or only some weird obsession with clean glassware, but I couldn’t think of a polite way to ask him.
Forget it. Stick to the mission.
“Mmm, I was looking at that,” I agreed. “But this fresh fruit and custard crepe sounds delicious, too.”
“It is. Have both.” He smiled. “The chef is most accommodating. He will do half-portions. Or even one-third portions, if there is another thing you desire.”
“Oh…” Skimming down the menu, my gaze snagged on a roasted asparagus and goat cheese frittata with wild mushrooms. “Uh-oh…”
Riel chuckled. “Yes?”
“Oh, yes.”
I surfaced from the menu before I could find anything else to tempt me. After the server had departed with my three-part order and Riel’s single one, I leaned back and cradled my tea, my smile almost genuine at the thought of the delectable food to come.
“You know, I’ve never had a desire for any of…” I made an encompassing gesture at the grandeur that surrounded us. “…this. But I could get used to the food.”
“Ah, indeed.” Riel sipped his coffee, smiling. “Money, it is not everything, but it is… convenient. So tell me, if it is not money you desire, then what is your… ‘ow shall I say it…? Your first love?”
My defensive shields sprang up, but I held onto my pleasant expression and kept my posture relaxed. “There you go talking about love again. I don’t do love. Too much desire for anything is a weakness.”
He leaned forward, his gaze intent. “That is true. Very few people understand that.”
My pulse quickened. Maybe we were getting somewhere. Was this his opening gambit in price bargaining?
“Bring me coffee!” Harchman’s peevish voice shattered our moment of rapport as he bustled into the salon.
Dammit, his timing couldn’t have been worse. If I’d had a bomb I would have been tempted to blow up the little shit myself.
“Coffee!” His voice rose to a whiny shout.
The server hurried out to proffer a steaming cup.
Harchman took one sip, then pitched the cup across the room where it shattered, spraying the dark fluid across the carpet and up the wall. “What is that swill?” he snapped. “Bring me fresh coffee. And clean up that mess.”
“Yes, Mr. Harchman, right away. I’m sorry.” The hapless server rushed back into the kitchen.
Riel’s face betrayed a single flash of contempt before smoothing into his usual pleasant expression. “Bonjour, Lawrence,” he said. “Are you ‘aving a difficult day?”
“No.” Harchman dropped into the chair at the head of the table, scowling like a petulant child. “Everything’s fine.”
“Ah.” Riel sipped his coffee as if to swallow a comment he might regret voicing. In his most charming tone, he added, “I ‘ope you will excuse our rude behaviour. Arlene and I ‘ave ordered our food already. But we would be pleased to ‘ave the chef wait with it until you ‘ave ordered and Madame ‘Archman and Messieurs Kane and Labelle arrive.”
“It’s fine.” Harchman waved an irritable hand. “Go ahead and eat. They’re not coming, and I’m not hungry.”
“Ah,” Riel repeated without inflection, and returned his attention to me. “It is so nice to find someone who shares my appreciation of fine food. If you are ever in Montréal…”
We discussed gourmet dining for the rest of the meal, ignoring Harchman’s sulky presence. I barely tasted the food, my nerves strung tight.
Where was Kane? Was he safe, tucked away doing who-knows-what with Tawny and causing Harchman’s pique in the process? Or had something gone terribly wrong?
And would I make it better or worse if I interfered?
“…Arlene…?” Riel’s voice intruded on my thoughts.
I blinked back to the present. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second. I have some pressing business on my mind. What did you say?”
Riel smiled his pleasant smile. “It is quite all right; it was nothing important. I only asked if you ‘ad enjoyed your massage.”
“Oh. No, I didn’t have time for it; I had to go back to my room and work. In fact…” I stood. “…I’m afraid I need to get back to Calgary.”
Riel politely rose with me. “So soon?”
“Yes. Business. You know how it goes.” I gave him an insincere smile. “Thank you for inviting me. Enjoy your spa vacation.”
He laid a hand over his heart, giving me his sad face. “The joy will be gone without you.”
I held onto my smile. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”
Harchman made no move to rise or even to acknowledge my departure, so I walked out and left him glowering into his coffee cup.
Senses on high alert, I headed for the guesthouse trying to look relaxed and confident. This was too easy. Were they just going to let me leave?
Maybe they would. After all, I was Arlene Widdenback, badass arms dealer…
“Hey, hold on there!”
My heart shot up to vibrate in my throat as I turned. Glock on my right ankle; trank on my left. Which would I need?
A uniformed giant loomed up, and adrenaline burned my veins. Shit. The guy who never forgot a face.
He smiled down at me. “So how did it go last night?”
“Oh, hi.” I cleared my dry throat, stalling. “You’re still on duty? That’s a long shift.”
He shrugged. “Midnight to noon. I like it. That’s when all the good stuff happens.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Like zebra blondes and chambermaid seductions?”
“Yep. So, you look a bit more comfortable today.” He nodded at my slacks and sweater.
“Um… yeah.”
Shit, now he’d seen me twice. What if he mentioned my foray into ‘acting’ to Harchman, or worse, Tawny? They’d immediately recognize my description. How could I get him to keep quiet?
“I, um…” I dropped my gaze as if embarrassed. “It didn’t go very well last night. I kind of… quit. Well… got fired, actually.” I darted a glance up at him, hoping I looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “I wouldn’t do what they wanted. They gave me a guest room so I didn’t have to drive back in the middle of the night, but I’m leaving now. So, um…”
Was I laying it on too thick?
I straightened and met his gaze. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody you saw me last night. This was a big mistake and I’d rather just put it behind me.”
He shrugged. “No problem. Don’t feel bad; these gigs aren’t for everybody. You’ll get a better one.” His kind face split in a grin. “And I won’t remember you when you get your big break and you’re accepting your Oscar.”
My relief spilled over into a smile and I took his huge hand and squeezed it. “Thank you! You’re the best!”
“No problem. I told you I’d seen it all…” His eyelid drooped in a wink. “…but I don’t tell.”
“Thanks,” I repeated. I was turning away when an idea struck me. “Uh… can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“One of my friends was here last night, too. A big guy…” I gave him a playful look, theatrically shading my eyes as I gazed up at him. “Not as big as you.”
He laughed. “Nobody’s as big as me. What does your friend look like?”
“About six-four, bodybuilder, dark hair, grey eyes. Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, I saw him this morning with Mrs. Harchman.”
I bit down the urge to snap, ‘Where were they and what were they doing?’ Instead I kept my tone casual. “Oh, good. I wanted to tell him I was leaving this morning but he wasn’t at brunch. Where did you see them? Or…” I hesitated. “Did they look… busy? Should I just call him later?”
“No, they weren’t… busy.” He matched my meaningful inflection with an uptick of his eyebrow. “They were just going into the spa. But that was around nine. I haven’t seen either of them since.”
“Oh. I left the spa around then, so I must have just missed them. Well, I guess I’d better get going. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Have a good day.” He gave me the trademark half-bow as though it was an unconscious habit, and I managed a feeble smile before heading for the guesthouse.
Shit, shit, shit.
If he was so willing to disclose details like the zebra blondes and Tawny’s and Kane’s whereabouts, how good was his promise not to tell anybody about me?
And worse, Tawny and Kane had been together at the spa two hours ago and nobody had seen them since. What were they doing?
Innocently enjoying the mineral pool and massage?
Not-so-innocently enjoying each other?
Or was Kane a prisoner, suffering barbaric torture while I pigged out on gourmet food?
Stomach churning, I hurried for my room.
A quick scan with my bug detector showed a reassuringly green light. I threw myself on the bed, mentally reaching for the white void of the virtual reality network.
A rapid survey of the virtual sim rooms showed nothing active, and I dove through the firewall and into the archive server, checking timestamps as I went.
Nothing.
Nobody had created any sims since my aborted massage experience.
So what the hell were Kane and Tawny up to? And where had Labelle gone?
Dammit.
I stepped out of the sim into my usual firestorm of pain. Hands clamped around my temples, I swore and battered my head against the pillow until the misery subsided. Then I lay motionless, my headache thumping while I tried to formulate a plan.
Surely Tawny couldn’t harm Kane here in the real world. In the first place, my man-mountain was living proof that most of the staff were just innocent people doing their jobs. Tawny wouldn’t blow her cover by attacking Kane where there might be witnesses.
And even if she did attack him, Kane’s deadly martial arts skills would prevent her from getting the upper hand unless he actually wanted her to have it.
I could look for them in the spa, but even if I did find them I still wouldn’t know what to do.
I’d just have to trust Kane to take care of himself. If he had needed help he would have found a way to signal me last night.
…Unless he had signalled me and I’d been too dense to pick up on it. What if he was counting on me to know some secret protocol that only top agents used?
What if my inexperience killed him?
Hissing out a breath, I rolled off the bed. I’d memorized every single protocol manual, dammit. I hadn’t missed anything. Like it or not, I’d have to leave Kane to his mysterious mission and get on with mine.
My worries weighed in my belly like cold lead while I packed.
As I left the guest house, the sun was blotted out by a mountain of uniform as my friendly guard fell into step beside me. “Just wanted to let you know, I found out your friend checked out a couple of hours ago,” he said. “He left around ten-thirty.”
“Oh.” The word sounded hollow, and I followed it up with a bright smile and a perky tone. “Maybe his gig didn’t go well, either. Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re welcome. Take care, and good luck with your acting career.” He smiled and strode off down the path, leaving me to trudge up to the concierge’s booth accompanied only by my own worries.
So Kane had left without telling me.
Was that good or bad?