Chapter 6
When I wasn’t able to force a response from my suddenly-constricted throat, Nichele teased, “You remember… Benoit Riel? The guy you dated and were trying to avoid in my office this morning? Have you got early Alzheimer’s or something, girl?”
“N… no…” As if making up for lost time, my heart restarted, rattling like a machine gun in my chest. I clenched the phone in a deathgrip and held my voice steady with all my might. “Nichele, where are you?”
“At my business retreat,” she said cautiously. “Did you forget that? Are you feeling okay?”
“No, I know that, I meant… where is your retreat being held?”
“Oh, it’s at this giant estate near Priddis. You should see it, Aydan, it’s spectacular! It’s got a full spa and this super-deluxe guesthouse and a manmade lake and fountains and-”
“And a two-storey gazebo with wet bars on both levels that seats about a hundred people,” I finished in a strangled voice, doom squeezing my lungs like a toxic cloud. “It’s Lawrence Harchman’s place, isn’t it?”
“Yes, do you know him?”
Goddammit.
“Yes. We’re not on good terms.” Understatement of the century. “So don’t mention my name,” I added. “And stay away from Benoit, too, okay? He’s creepy. In fact, you should just leave now. Come back to Calgary and-”
“Oh, Aydan, you’re such a social misfit. He’s perfectly nice. I’m having a fantastic time, and I’d be crazy to walk away from this kind of business opportunity. I have to get back to the party now; Benoit’s been teasing me for checking my phone all evening. Did you want something, or were you just making sure I’d gotten here okay?”
“Both…”
My mind whirled uselessly, failing to come up with a plausible reason to tell her to leave.
I tried anyway. “Look, Nichele, I didn’t mention this before because I didn’t want to worry you, but Benoit is friends with James. He might have just lured you out there…” I trailed off, not even wanting to speak my fears aloud.
“Oh…” Nichele sounded as though the wind had been knocked out of her, but she rallied fast. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about that.” Her decisive business voice trembled only slightly. “And I guarantee I’m safe from James while I’m hobnobbing with the cream of society here. You should see the security, Aydan; there are guys in cheap suits and radio headsets everywhere. This is the safest place for me.”
Stifling a groan, I thumped my forehead against the steering wheel. I couldn’t tell her that Harchman’s wife was a criminal and the security might not be for the protection of the guests.
Damn, damn, damn…
Nichele interrupted the downward spiral of my thoughts. “So… I’d better get back to the party. What were you calling about?”
“Well, stick with the bigwigs, and be careful,” I warned. “Keep your phone on you and be ready to call-”
“Aydan, relax! You are so paranoid, girl! Now hurry up and tell me what you really want.”
“Right. Um… so… the reason I was calling was, um… what’s Dante’s last name and address?” I asked in a light tone that sounded false even to my own ears.
“Aha!” Her triumphant chortle made me wince in anticipation of the ribbing to come. “Aydan, you booty-licious babe! Are you going to make an Aydan sandwich with Dante the Inferno and Hot John? Wheee-ooo!”
“No, I just, um…” A fortuitous fount of bullshit erupted in my brain and I spouted it gratefully. “You remember Lola and her sex shop? She’s looking for a model for one of her ads and I thought of Dante.”
“Thought of Dante first thing,” Nichele teased. “Uh-huh. Purely for business purposes. Nothing to do with the way he fills out his undies in those ads.”
“Come on, Nichele.”
“Okay, okay. His last name is Olivieri. Hang on while I grab his address…” Her voice faded as she moved the phone away from her ear and she added, “But I’ll only give it to you if you promise to apologize to him and then go for some smoking-hot makeup sex. I can’t believe you ran out on him last time.”
“Uh, yeah, that was, um… a mistake.”
And impossible to explain without divulging a whole lot of classified information.
“I’ll definitely apologize,” I added. “But I’m not going to sleep with him.”
“Seriously, Aydan…” Her voice resumed its normal volume.
She did sound serious. Shit.
“…why did you run out on him?” she asked. “Climbing out his bathroom window was severely weird. All you had to do was tell him you’d changed your mind. He’s a nice guy. He would’ve taken you home or called you a cab, whatever you wanted.”
“Can we please not talk about this again?”
She didn’t reply, just waited on the line with her usual terrier-like tenacity.
I sighed. “I told you before; it was just one of those stupid things you do when you’re drunk.”
“Girl, crank-calling your ex or getting a tattoo would be ‘one of those stupid things you do when you’re drunk’. Climbing out a guy’s bathroom window and disappearing into the night is a whole ‘nother level of weirdness.”
“I just… I freaked out, okay? It was easier to climb out the window than explain that I didn’t want to sleep with him after all…”
“Only you would think it was easier to dismantle a window than have a simple conversation,” she said with resignation. “Never mind; you’re still my favourite oddball. Here’s his phone number and address.” She reeled them off, then added, “Tell him I said hi. And, Aydan, if it was the size of his package that scared you, don’t worry. He goes really slowly and he’s so gentle-”
“Well then, thanks, Nichele!” I interrupted with desperate heartiness. “Call me tonight when you get settled in your room, and call me again tomorrow morning before you go into your discussion panels so I know you’re safe, okay?”
“You bet I will,” Nichele said sweetly. “’Cause I want all the dirt on you and Dante.”
“It’s just a modelling job,” I gritted. “I’m not planning to sleep with him.”
“Then you should change your plans. Go get him, girl! Bye-bye!”
After a few minutes of fervent swearing, I slumped back in the seat and stared out the windshield into the darkness. Then I hissed out a breath between my teeth and hit the speed dial on another secured phone.
When Stemp answered with his usual briskness, I said, “It’s Aydan. Sorry to bother you again.”
“You’re not bothering me; this is my job.”
“During the day. You shouldn’t have to work 24/7.”
His impersonal tone softened. “Perhaps not, but I would rather sleep soundly between calls than lie awake worrying that my stand-in might make decisions that would jeopardize a mission, or worse, cause harm to one of my agents.”
A small pocket of warmth settled in my chest. “Well, it means a lot to me that you’re always there. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
A brief awkward silence hovered between us and I hurried into my update.
“…so I’m going out there tonight,” I finished with determination.
Stemp’s clinical tone was back. “Is that a personal or a professional decision?”
No point in lying to him. He knew me too well.
“Both. I know you said they won’t likely take hostages this early in the game and I trust your judgement, but… Nichele is my best friend and I can’t leave her unprotected. That’s the personal part. But on the professional side, this is directly mission-related. It’s a good opportunity to scope out the connection between Riel and Tawny Harchman, and maybe I can even follow up on the intel about James and Tawny cozying up. If Nichele’s there, it gives me a perfect excuse to crash the party and sniff around.”
“Very well, if you can do so without arousing Ms. Harchman’s suspicions.”
“No problem. I’ll avoid her.” My lips peeled back from my teeth in equal parts revulsion and dark humour. “I’ll just pop in and say hello to Lawrence, my old buddy and business partner. I didn’t get a cheque for my share of the porn-video proceeds last month, so I’ll jog his memory. That’ll make him very eager to tell me anything I want to know so I don’t make a scene at his fancy party. He’s all about keeping up appearances.”
I considered for a moment, my heart pounding at the thought of going into an unknown situation with no backup. What if my worst imaginings came true? What if I got captured? I was pretending to be an experienced agent, but would it betray my inexperience more to request backup or not to request it?
I swallowed hard and added, “Could you please send Holt down in case anything goes sideways at Harchman’s? I don’t want him with me out there, but it would be good to have him closer than Silverside.”
I held my breath.
“Very well,” Stemp agreed as though it was normal procedure.
I eased out my breath of relief silently before adding, “Tell him I’ll text him…” I considered for a moment. God only knew what time I might finish there. “…sometime tonight. If he hasn’t heard from me by morning I might need help.”
“And what would you like him to do in that case?”
I clenched my fist in my hair and tugged, hoping to dislodge some useful plan from a brain completely devoid of ideas. “Um…”
Nothing came to mind except ‘come and rescue me’, and my stupid pride wouldn’t let those words out.
“I’ll have to leave it to his best judgement,” I said lamely. “I really don’t know what I might find. If it’s anything out of the ordinary I’ll report in as soon as I can so he’ll have a better idea of what he’s going into.” Then my evil twin spoke up. “And if Holt’s going to be in Calgary anyway, he might as well watch Dante’s place while he’s waiting for me to check in.”
“Very well.” Stemp’s dry tone might have held a flicker of amusement. “Give me the address and I’ll inform Holt.” I read it off to him and he confirmed it before adding, “How do you propose to get into this event? You mentioned that it required tickets which were sold out…?”
“I’ll sneak in through the creek at the back. There’s only one camera back there and I’ve avoided it before.” I didn’t bother to mention that they might have updated their surveillance perimeter since then. Worry about that later.
“Very well. Holt will be en route within the hour. I’ll text you the number of his burner phone. Good hunting.”
“Thanks.”
After I hung up, I sat frowning through the windshield. Should I call Kane? I sat eyeing the burner phone in my hand.
No. By now he’d be settled into Alicia’s… The green-eyed monster in my brain tried to say ‘bedroom’, but I firmly diverted it. He hated her. He’d be settled into her spare room.
And even if I asked for his help, he wouldn’t put my needs ahead of Daniel’s. He had made it clear from the start where his priorities lay. He hadn’t given a second thought to nearly getting me gang-raped and tortured in his attempt to rescue Daniel.
I shook my head, denying my hurt feelings as well as the terrifying memories. Kane hadn’t dragged me in there. I’d gone willingly.
Because I had trusted him to keep me safe, a small sad voice whispered.
“Shut up,” I muttered. “I knew damn well it was dangerous, and he was treating me as an equal partner. It was the highest compliment he could give me.”
Pushing aside my mood, I refocused.
I couldn’t show up at a snobby champagne reception in my faded jeans, hiking boots, and waist pouch unless I wanted to attract a lot of attention. That might throw Harchman off-balance enough to quickly tell me what I wanted to know…
Scowling, I considered that scenario. Nope, bad idea. He’d just have his security guys chuck me out on my ass. I needed to blend in with the rest of the well-dressed crowd so he wouldn’t be able to throw me out without causing speculation among his fancypants guests.
So I needed dress-up clothes.
Shit.
I didn’t have time to get my formalwear from home, but all the stores were closed already. And if I used my key to Nichele’s place I could borrow one of her stretchy dresses and pretend it was meant to be worn micro-short, but her tiny shoes were out of the question for my size-ten feet.
Double-shit.
Another note for the spy manual: Always keep a wrinkle-proof black dress and high heels in the trunk. With a matching handbag, appropriate jewellery, and a holster I could strap to my inner thigh.
I swore loudly and put the car in gear.
By the time I parked in the visitor’s lot at Hellhound’s condo building, my clenched jaw was aching and my head was pounding. Hauling myself out of the car, I made for the door.
If only Hellhound had been home, I could have briefly set aside my deadly reality under an erotic massage from his magic hands, followed by a glorious temporary oblivion induced by one of his other magic body parts. But no; he was off in some undisclosed location dealing with his own potentially deadly reality.
I stifled a self-pitying whimper.
When I pushed my key into the lock, Hooker’s serenade of raspy meows floated to my ears. Cautiously cracking the door open, I crouched to scoop up the large furry body when he made his usual determined attempt to escape into the hallway.
“Nice try, buddy,” I murmured as I stepped inside and locked the door behind us. “How’s my big guy?”
After a moment of standoffish inspection in which he made it clear that he was disappointed I wasn’t Hellhound, the big cat philosophically leaned into my fingers for a chin-scratch. Eyes squeezed shut in bliss, his purr rumbled like an outboard motor. Heavy tufted paws kneaded my shoulder for a few moments before he squirmed up to plant a paw on either side of my neck in a hug, nuzzling his moist nose under my hair.
Grinning, I massaged his scruff while I kicked off my shoes at the door and carried him to the small kitchen, knowing the next step in the dance.
Right on cue, Hooker withdrew from the shelter of my hair and braced his paws against me in the universal ‘put-me-down’ gesture. I lowered him to the floor where he paced beside his dish, gazing up at me with hungry yellow eyes and emitting short demanding meows.
“Here you go, you big freeloader.” Scooping a few crunchy treats from the bag in the cupboard, I sprinkled them into his dish and stood watching while he devoured them, his fluffy tail making ecstatic figure-eights in the air.
Wishing I could just crack open a cold beer and curl up in my usual spot on the couch, I blew out a sigh and eyed the living room wistfully.
Hellhound’s guitar slumped like an abandoned lover beside his empty chair. Despite Hooker’s purring presence, the apartment seemed too quiet, a desolate place pining for the return of Arnie’s warmth and music and laughter.
I shivered. What if this was a premonition? What if his mission went terribly wrong? He always seemed so indestructible, but even his strength was no match for bullets. My mind filled with nightmare images of flesh brutally torn, crimson blood leaking out like red ink draining from his tattoos…
“For shit’s sake, cut it out!” I snapped, and headed for the bedroom.
With only a slight qualm about rummaging through his things, I helped myself to a black duffel bag and a black hooded parka large enough for two of me.
Hooker had padded into the bedroom to observe, and I reassured him, “I’m not stealing these. I’ll bring them back.”
The cat gave me a quizzical look before twisting to sit on the base of his spine, one hind leg extended skyward while he licked an indelicate place with evident satisfaction.
“Nice,” I told him. “Thanks for sharing that.”
I left him to his ablutions and departed, locking the door behind me and trying not to dwell on the fact that right now normal people were curled cozily on their sofas watching TV and looking forward to a blissful snooze in their safe comfortable beds instead of getting ready to commit a crime or two before sneaking through a creek bed in the cold darkness.
“Fuck my life,” I muttered, and headed for my car.