Silence blanketed the room. Kane’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Then he let out a rush of breath and collapsed into the chair, slumping over to hide his face in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. When he looked up, his face was haggard. He reached toward Hellhound’s immobile bulk. “Arnie, I’m sorry. Aydan’s right. You’re right, too, and I’m an idiot for taking this out on you.”
Arnie raised his head at last, and the pain in his eyes made my throat tighten.
“It’s okay, Cap,” he rasped, but I knew it wasn’t. Too many old ghosts had been reawakened. He’d have to fight them into their graves all over again.
“I’m sorry,” Kane repeated. He sank his head into his hands again. “Goddammit. I’m sorry.”
“No big deal,” Hellhound said firmly. “Don’t worry, Cap, we’re gonna figure this out.”
Kane let out a breath and faced us. “What should we do?”
The childlike question shocked me.
This was Kane. The best agent in the service. Super-cool James Bond.
But tonight he was just the broken-hearted father of a child he’d never known.
Hellhound and I exchanged a glance.
“Aydan an’ I are gonna go over these files,” Hellhound said. “You’re gonna take a sleepin’ pill an’ get some rest. Ya ain’t good for anythin’ when ya ain’t slept in three days.”
Kane’s fists clenched, his jaw jutting. “No, I-”
“John…” I interrupted warningly.
The fight went out of him, his body slumping as though every tendon had been cut. “All right,” he mumbled.
“Do you have sleeping pills here?” I asked.
“Yes.” He dragged himself to his feet, looking so worn out that I hurried over to take his arm.
“Where?”
“Bathroom.”
He trudged down the hall, and I flanked him worriedly. In the bathroom, he extracted a small pill bottle from a drawer and handed it to me in silence. The prescription had been issued four months ago, but the bottle was full.
“I never took any,” Kane said in a monotone. “I’d rather deal with my issues head-on.”
“I know,” I comforted, and doled out a couple of pills as per the dosage instructions. “But when you’re this tired, you just can’t deal with anything effectively.”
“I should know that.” He swallowed the pills and turned for the bedroom. “But sometimes I need friends to remind me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
When he was safely under the bedcovers, he said, “I have to call Alicia,” and picked up the bedside phone.
I withdrew, leaving the door open a crack, and the quiet rumble of his voice carried me down the hall.
In the living room, Arnie looked up anxiously. “Is he down?”
I sighed and plopped onto the couch beside him. “He’s horizontal. Not down for the count yet. He’s talking to Alicia, but those pills should kick in pretty soon, especially when he’s this tired.”
“Good.” Hellhound laid an arm across my shoulders and I twisted to wrap my arms around him and press my face against his chest.
“How are you holding up?” I mumbled into his T-shirt.
“Fine.”
I pulled away far enough to look into his face. “Liar.”
He sighed and sagged back on the couch, pulling me with him into a half-reclining position. “It’s rippin’ my fuckin’ guts out.”
“Yeah, I figured.” I stroked his cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nothin’ to talk about. It is what it is.” He shifted into a more comfortable position and I tucked my legs up beside him, cuddling close and laying my head on his chest. He lowered his voice. “I hope we find him. Even if he’s dead, it’s better than not knowin’. Ya never stop wonderin’ otherwise.”
My heart contracted with sympathy and I slipped my arm over his chest to hold him close, knowing he was thinking of his sister, still missing after thirty years.
He sighed again and stroked my hair. “Ya always make me feel better, though. How ‘bout you, darlin’? Ya okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, this whole thing is awful; but I’m okay.”
He kissed the top of my head and we lay without speaking, his hand making slow soothing passes over my hair. Kane’s voice ceased and the telephone handset clicked into the cradle, followed by silence.
Fatigue dragged at my limbs.
Only four hours of sleep; the physical and mental exertion of my requalification in the morning; the tension of Stemp’s disastrous dinner; the emotional toll of worrying about Daniel; all of it pressed down like the weight of an extra atmosphere.
Hellhound’s body was blissfully warm, his heartbeat a steady hypnotic rhythm under my ear…
I woke with a start and bolted up, swiping drool off my chin and wincing at the crick in my neck. Hellhound blinked sleepily up at me. “What, darlin’?” he mumbled.
“John.” I ran toward the groans and mumbles emanating from the bedroom.
Hellhound caught up with me at the doorway, scooping me aside with a powerful arm. “Stay back.” He crossed to the bed in two fast strides in time to deflect a vicious right cross. Kane’s fist smacked harmlessly into his palm, and Hellhound parried the jab that followed immediately behind it, calling, “Wake up, Cap, you’re dreamin’! It’s just a-” He dodged another punch. “…dream. Hey, Cap, wake up!”
“John!” I added my voice to the effort but stayed out of reach. If I’d caught Kane’s fist like that, I’d probably have a broken arm. “John, wake up!”
His eyes opened blank and unfocused, his fists still clenched in quivering knots.
“Wake up, Cap,” Hellhound repeated softly. “Just a dream.”
Kane blinked, then blinked again and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “’M ‘wake,” he slurred. “Sorry…”
“It’s okay,” Hellhound assured him. “Go back to sleep. We got your back.”
Kane mumbled something inarticulate, his eyelids dropping shut again. A few moments later his breathing slowed and deepened, and Hellhound and I exchanged a glance and tiptoed out.
In the hallway light, I squinted at my watch. “Shit, it’s one AM! We were going to go over these files!”
Hellhound yawned and gave a philosophical shrug. “Prob’ly did us more good to grab a nap. We’ll be fresher now.” He stretched his arms above his head, his back and shoulders emitting a percussive symphony of crackles and pops. “Shit, darlin’, I was dead to the fuckin’ world.”
“Me, too.” We trailed back to the sofa and sat side by side, positioning the laptop on the coffee table.
After an hour of scrolling data I sat back, rubbing my aching eyes. “I didn’t realize how much there was. We’ve barely scratched the surface.”
Hellhound gave me a quizzical look. “How could ya not realize how much there is? Ya sent it, didn’t ya?”
“Yeah…” I sighed. “Long story, and I can’t tell it to you.” I eyed him enviously. “I suppose you remember everything we’ve read, down to every date, time, and detail.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. An’ I skimmed the missin’ ladies’ cases before ya got here. There’s a helluva lot of ‘em, but I couldn’t see any connection to the boys.”
“Yeah. I’m glad you don’t think they’re connected, because I can’t even keep the boys’ cases straight.” I fell back on the couch. “I can’t remember my own name. This isn’t going to work unless I start writing stuff down.”
“Good plan, darlin’. That way Kane can look at it when he gets up, too. He’s got a bulletin board in his office, an’ he already got started on some a’ the cases while we were waitin’ for ya. Let’s go put some stuff up.”
Two hours later we had tacked up a mosaic of papers and arrows in between trips to the bedroom to soothe Kane’s nightmares. When I yawned and rubbed my watering eyes for the umpteenth time, Hellhound put down his pen and drew me into his arms. “Okay, darlin’, you’re done.”
I smothered another yawn. “No, I can keep going.”
“Yeah, ya prob’ly can, but if ya do you’re gonna miss somethin’. Remember, the cops have been workin’ these cases for over a year, an’ they ain’t stupid. If there’s anythin’ here, it ain’t gonna be obvious. Go home an’ get some sleep, an’ we’ll hit it again in the mornin’.”
“But if Daniel’s still alive, every second could count…” I began.
Hellhound tilted his head down to rest his forehead tenderly against mine. “I know, darlin’. But you mornin’ people are no damn good at this time a’ night. I’m still wide awake so I’m gonna keep at it.”
He let out a breath and his arms tightened around me. “The best thing ya can do is get some rest so ya can be strong for Kane tomorrow.” His gravelly voice held infinite sadness even though he didn’t speak aloud the thought that gnawed at my heart: if we found Daniel dead at the hands of a monster, could Kane survive the blow?
I hugged Arnie in silence, seeking comfort that even the warmth of his arms couldn’t provide. The thought of my farmhouse lying dark and empty in the night chilled me.
“I’m going to stay,” I decided. “I’ll just crash on the couch, and then if I wake up early I can do some more reading.”
“Why don’t ya go crawl in with Kane?” Hellhound suggested. “He’s about done punchin’ for the night. You’ll be more comfortable, an’ it’ll do him good to have ya there.”
“He doesn’t want me.” I smothered another yawn. “You saw how he pushed me away.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it? When somebody ya care about shuts ya out?” Arnie asked quietly.
Straightening, I stared him in the eye. “I really hope you’re not preaching to me, because I am so not in the mood.”
“Nah, I ain’t preachin’.” He pulled me back into the hug. “I’m just hopin’ you’ll cut him some slack.”
“I will.” I kissed him and eased reluctantly out of his embrace. “I shut both of you out often enough. Payback’s a bitch.”
He chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth.”
I woke to a gentle hand on my shoulder and Hellhound’s quiet rasp, even hoarser than usual after his sleepless night. “Hey, Aydan, it’s six-thirty. Ya goin’ to work today?”
Groaning, I sat up and gingerly stretched my aching neck. “I don’t know. Did you find anything last night? Should I stay?”
“Ya should prob’ly go. Like Kane said, we might need ya on the inside. I didn’t find anythin’ earth-shatterin’, but I got a helluva lot a’ readin’ done an’ I filled up another twenty sheets. I’m gonna keep at it ‘til Kane gets up, an’ then I’ll crash while he goes through our notes.”
“He’s still sleeping?”
“Uh-huh.” Hellhound smiled, tired lines bracketing his eyes. “An’ he’s gonna be pissed that I didn’t wake him up, but the longer he sleeps, the better. Get goin’, darlin’. Ya got just enough time to go home an’ get a change a’ clothes an’ a shower.”
“Okay. Call me if you need anything…” I trailed off with the sudden sick recollection that I had to meet Frederick Labelle at two o’clock. Oh, God…
“What, Aydan?” Hellhound surveyed me with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I summoned a smile. “I just remembered I have a meeting this afternoon, so don’t worry if you try to call me between two and three and I don’t answer.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Okay… What ain’t ya tellin’ me?”
“Just the usual bullshit.” I kissed him and headed for the door under his worried gaze. “Don’t forget to nag John to go in for his debriefing when he gets up,” I added. “See you later.”
When I got to Sirius Dynamics at ten to eight Stemp was crossing the parking lot, and I hopped out of my car and gave him a ‘wait-for-me’ wave.
He halted, reluctance in every line of his body.
“Good morning,” he greeted me with his usual lack of inflection as I hurried up.
“’Morning,” I agreed, and got straight to the point. “I just wanted to ask how long your mom and dad will be here. I was hoping to have another visit with them.” A visit without Stemp’s dampening presence, but I couldn’t think of a tactful way to say that.
“They left.”
“What?” I gaped at him. “When?”
“Last night.”
“But… I thought…”
His stony expression told the story.
My heart sank. “Oh, shit. You fought.”
“We did not fight,” Stemp said stiffly. “We merely agreed that perhaps close proximity was less than beneficial for all concerned.”
“But… but you were getting along so well,” I floundered. “You were talking to them regularly on the phone, and last night I thought-”
“You thought wrong,” he snapped.
“No, you can still make this work! Call them,” I begged. “Ask them to come back-”
“No. If I thought they truly believed in the Earth Spirit, I could tolerate their so-called religion even if I didn’t believe in it myself, but…” His shoulders rose and fell in one of his infinitesimal shrugs. “…they created this deity and its rituals solely as a means of controlling the members of their commune. I had good reason to leave them behind when I was eighteen, and nothing has changed since then. They are liars and manipulators of innocent people. We have nothing in common.”
He turned away but I grabbed his arm, desperate to change his mind. “They’re your parents! You have everything in common!”
Stemp froze, eyeing my hand as if making a mental note to wash his jacket as soon as possible. “What exactly are you implying?” he asked in icy tones.
I let go of his arm. “I’m just… you can’t just…” Sucking in breath, I tried again. “Look, sometimes you lie and manipulate people, too, as part of your job.”
He let out a bark of mirthless laughter. “Are you implying those charlatans are on the side of justice and national security?”
I clamped my teeth on my tongue so I wouldn’t blurt out ‘yes’. I couldn’t blow their cover, not even with the best of intentions.
“Um… I’m just saying maybe your mom and dad have reasons-” I mumbled lamely.
“No doubt they do,” he interrupted. “All to benefit their own agenda. And in any case, they are not my ‘mom and dad’. My mother had a…” He hesitated. “…dalliance,” he went on in cool clinical tones, “…with Skidmark, which resulted in her pregnancy. My biological father is a wasted stoner and a draft-dodging coward, and my mother duped Karma into claiming parenthood of their bastard child. Me.”
My heart wrenched at the hurt in his words. “That’s not what happened at all!” I protested. “Skidmark isn’t a draft dodger or a coward! He-”
I cut myself off. I couldn’t tell him Skidmark had served with distinction in Vietnam, and every day of his life since.
“He’s a good guy,” I said instead. “Your mom loves him and Karma, and they love her; and they don’t care whose biological child you are. In fact, they never even knew for sure…” I trailed off. “So how could you possibly know?”
He stared straight through me. “Whom do I resemble?”
“Oh. Um… well, it’s hard to tell… I mean, Skidmark’s all hair and beard so you can’t really see anything but his eyes…”
I stopped before I dug myself in any deeper. Stemp sure as hell didn’t look like Karma or Moonbeam.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” I insisted. “Lots of kids don’t look like either of their parents. And Karma wanted you so much, he and your mom decided to register as your parents to keep it simple because Skidmark is a U.S. citizen…” My words faded into silence at the chill in Stemp’s eyes.
“I see you’ve gotten quite chummy with them,” he said quietly. “Very well. If you like them so much, you can have them.”
He turned and walked away, a stiff and lonely figure in the empty parking lot.
By the time I signed in at the security wicket and dragged myself upstairs to my office, my head was pounding. A couple of hours of studying Labelle’s file and trying to visualize all the possible turns our conversation might take didn’t help.
When my desk phone rang at ten-thirty I reached for it with gratitude. I’d welcome any distraction that kept my mind from spinning closer and closer to the conviction that I was about to blow my op before it even got started, and probably sign my own death warrant in the process.
“Aydan Kelly,” I said brightly.
Linda’s frantic voice lanced icy adrenaline into my veins. “Somebody’s trying to kill Spider!”