I was half relieved and half disappointed when Nora followed me out of the coffee shop. The short drive to the hotel was accomplished in silence, and when I pulled up in front of the building Nora turned a tentative expression toward me.
“When will…” She hesitated, then tried again. “Will you… call me later? Or… may I have your phone number?”
“No.” Sheer reflex jerked the refusal out of me.
She flinched as though I had slapped her.
“I’m sorry,” I added hurriedly. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. Of course you can have my home phone number. I just meant that you won’t be able to reach me. I’ve got back-to-back meetings for the rest of the day and I likely won’t even have time to check my messages. But I’ll call you when I can.”
“T-Today?” Her voice trembled.
Guilt and yearning and anger churned inside my chest. Somehow I managed to keep my voice steady. “I’ll try. But it might be pretty late in the evening.”
“Any time at all. A few minutes. That’s all I ask.” Her tears overflowed and trickled down her cheeks. “Oh, Dani-dear, I know how hard this is for you, but please give me a chance. I love you so much.”
She stretched over the centre console to hug me, and my throat closed. Of their own accord, my arms rose to hug her in return.
“My dearest,” she whispered against my hair.
I forced myself to let go. “I’ll call you later,” I croaked. “I really have to go now. I’m late.”
“All right.” She gave me a watery smile and got out of my car. Leaning down, she repeated, “I love you”, then closed the door.
Throat burning, I watched her climb the stairs. Waiting for one last smile and wave, and despising myself for it.
At the top of the stairs she turned. There was her radiant smile; her hand lifting…
My stupid heart was already warming before I realized the gesture wasn’t for me. A well-dressed man jogged up the stairs with a jaunty salute for Nora, and the two of them went into the hotel together, already engrossed in conversation.
It shouldn’t have hurt that much.
I held myself rigid, refusing to fold over the slice of pain in my chest. Refusing even one lapse into raw grief before I turned off my emotions and buried them so deeply that nobody could ever hurt me again…
The vibration of my cell phone made my locked-up muscles jerk painfully. The call display showed Hellhound’s number, and a rush of longing for his embrace nearly shattered me. I gulped hard, then gulped again. The phone was already on its third ring. It would go to voicemail in a few seconds…
I tapped the accept button and attempted a cheery tone. “Hi, Arnie.”
“Shit, what’s wrong?” he demanded.
My traitorous breath hitched, and I held my voice steady with every ounce of control I possessed. “E-Everything’s fine. Is everything all right with you?”
“I’m fine; an’ don’t bullshit me,” he growled. His rasp softened to a warm rough rumble that soothed my battered soul. “Come on, darlin’, give. Ya sound like hell. Talk to me.”
I closed my eyes, imagining his battle-scarred brow creased with concern for me, his gentle arms holding me warm and safe against his bulky chest, his hand stroking my hair…
Shit, that wasn’t helping.
I blew out a hard breath and forced a level tone. “Nothing bad is happening. I’m just wiped out because I worked really late last night and didn’t get much sleep, and then this morning I had to deal with Nora.”
“That bitch.” He spat the epithet. “Fuckin’ waste a’ skin. Why’s she still here? Thought they were gonna deport her.”
“They can’t. She has diplomatic immunity, and anyway, she hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“She sure as hell did,” he snapped. “She abandoned ya when ya were only a kid, an’ now she’s waltzin’ back into your life like nothin’ fuckin’ happened. She’s a fuckin’ worthless shitbag!”
I sighed, wishing it were that simple. “She hasn’t done anything illegal. And after talking to her today, I’m seeing that she might have had good reasons for what she did…” My half-hearted defense trailed off into silence. The silence lengthened, and I added, “Arnie? Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Just thinkin’. Tell ya what; I’m gonna come up there this afternoon. Can I stay at your place, or would ya rather I got a room at the hotel?”
Biting back the sob of gratitude that tried to escape, I held my voice steady. “Thanks, but I’m okay. You don’t need to drive all the way up here.”
“I know, but I’m comin’ anyway. So should I head for your place or the hotel?”
“My place. But I don’t know when I’ll get home tonight.”
“I’ll come to Silverside an’ call ya when I get there.” He hesitated. “Sounds like ya got more than enough shit on your plate right now, but… the reason I was callin’ in the first place, um… have ya talked to Kane lately?”
He was trying to sound casual. I didn’t fall for it.
My grip on the phone tightened. “I talked to him this morning. Why, what’s wrong? Did they get sicker? Are they at the hospital?”
“So he really is sick? An’ so’s Daniel? An’ they’re at Kane’s place there in Silverside?” Anxiety tinged his voice.
My pulse sped up to an uneasy lope. “Yes. Why? What’s wrong? Should I go over there?”
Hellhound let out a breath. “Couldn’t hurt. When did ya see ’em last?”
“Last night. Arnie, what the hell’s wrong?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s nothin’, darlin’, but… Lish called me a few minutes ago, freakin’ the fuck out. She thinks Kane kidnapped Daniel.”
“Oh, for…” I bit off my incipient profanity. “Of course he didn’t. Daniel got sick at supper last night, so they stayed at John’s place here in Silverside. Surely he called Alicia last night to tell her they wouldn’t be home.”
Hellhound blew out a breath. “Yeah, he did; but when she tried to call him at his house this mornin’ an’ he didn’t answer, she completely fuckin’ lost it. I told her there was no fuckin’ way Kane’d kidnap Daniel.” Worry tightened his voice. “But I tried to call him right after I hung up from her, an’ he didn’t answer. I thought he might just be screenin’ his calls from her; but he woulda picked up for me, an’ I called both his numbers.”
“Shit! He must have gotten sicker! Dammit…” I switched the phone to speaker and tossed it onto the passenger seat. “I’m going over there now!” I slapped the car into gear and accelerated.
As I neared Kane’s street only a few minutes later, the sound of sirens chilled my blood. “Shit!” I muttered.
“What? What’s happenin’?” Hellhound’s voice rattled my phone speaker from the passenger seat.
“Sirens.” I rounded the corner, adrenaline sizzling through my veins as I spotted their source. “Shit, a cop car at Kane’s… no, two; there’s one circling around behind the house as well. Shit-shit-shit…”
“Stay calm, darlin’, don’t get in the middle of it,” Hellhound warned. “Stay in your car.”
“But he was so sick; he said he felt like he’d been poisoned…” My voice was rising, my foot pressing the accelerator despite the obvious wisdom of Hellhound’s advice.
“Stay put!” His voice snapped out of the speaker. “If he’s that sick, the cops’ll call the ambulance, an’ you’ll only be in the way. An’ if some other shit’s goin’ down, you’re just gonna make it worse by chargin’ in there!”
I jammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop at the curb. “I’m not going to charge in there. I’m just going to go over to the cruiser and ask-”
“Aydan, NO!”
“Oh. Um… okay,” I said meekly.
“Aw shit, what’re ya doin’?” Dread edged Hellhound’s voice. “I know ya ain’t just doin’ what I said.”
“Actually, I am.” I powered down my window before replacing my hand on the steering wheel, both hands in full view and heart thumping. “There’s an RCMP officer headed for my car, and he doesn’t look happy.”
“Shit!” Hellhound fell silent, apparently listening for my exchange with the officer.
The uniformed man strode up to my car, frowning. “Are you aware that you were speeding-” He broke off, eyes widening and hand dropping to his gun. “Aydan Kelly?”
“Y-Yes…?” Suddenly I was having a hard time getting my breath.
The cop drew his weapon, stepping back a couple of paces. “Please step out of the car. Slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them.” He wasn’t pointing his gun directly at me, but it would only take a tiny adjustment of his stance to do it.
I forced my voice strong and level. “My name is Aydan Kelly. I’m a government agent, and you can check my ID with my Director, Charles Stemp. I’ll give you his number. I’m armed, but I won’t cause any trouble. I’ll sit here and keep my hands on the wheel if you’d like to call the Director now.”
“Already talked to him,” the officer said shortly. “Get out of the car, slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them.”
My heart pounded in my throat, making it hard to hold onto my calm voice. “Would you like me to take my hand off the steering wheel to open the car door, or would you rather do it yourself?”
“You do it. Slowly.”
“Okay. I’m going to open the car door now.” I moved my hand carefully off the steering wheel, down to the door latch, and eased the door open. Raising both hands, I added, “I’m going to get out of the car now. I’ll step to the side and stand beside the rear door.”
Keeping my hands at eye level, I did as I had described. As soon as I was standing, the cop barked, “Turn around and put both hands on the car.”
I obeyed, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. “I have a Glock in my right ankle holster,” I said. “There’s a pistol in my left ankle holster, too, but it’s classified technology. If you take it off me, please secure it where nobody can see it.”
“What’s going on here?” an authoritative female voice demanded.
I sneaked a peek over my shoulder and drew a breath of cautious relief. “Hi, Officer Peters.”
Her lips quirked. “Aydan. We have to stop meeting like this.”
Unsure whether that had been a smile or a sneer, I ventured, “I really hope this isn’t another strip-search situation.”
Her lips quirked again, and this time I was pretty sure it was a smile. “Me, too.” She glanced at the young male officer, who was still bristling and glaring, then turned back to me. “We have some questions for you. Are you willing to answer them?”
“I guess that depends on what they are.” My neck protested its awkward twist over my shoulder and I faced the car again, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to ease the cramp without removing my hands from the vehicle. “Ask away.”
“Please turn and face me.”
With a sigh that was half relief, half nervous tension, I lowered my hands slowly to my sides and turned.
The young male officer was still gripping his gun in a white-knuckled hand, but Officer Peters looked calm and contained as usual. “Daniel Kane is missing,” she said. “Witnesses placed you with him and John Kane, yesterday evening around seven PM at Fiorenza’s restaurant. Do you know anything about his disappearance?”
Despite her unemotional words, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. She’d been the one to break the news to Kane that he had a son he’d never met. She and John had been co-workers before he started working for the Department, and as far as I knew they were still friends.
“Disappearance?” My voice came out strangled by my thumping heart. “You mean Daniel’s not here at John’s place?”
Her expression jabbed a cold knife of fear into my chest before she even uttered the words.
“No, he’s not. They’re both gone.”