The Spy Who Left Me (13 page)

It also wouldn’t surprise her if Ty had planted a tracking device or a bug or both on her somewhere. She knew good and well that after the attack last night he wouldn’t leave her totally unprotected. And she’d lived with him long enough to suspect him of any spy trick.

In case Ty
was
listening, she’d have to be careful not to mention anything that would give away her plan to pick up the divorce papers.

“Have you decided?” Hal asked her.

She looked up.

He laughed. “You look perplexed. Too many choices?”

She smiled. She’d have to be more careful about letting her thoughts bleed onto her face. “Everything looks good.” She set the menu down. “I think I’ll have to go with that pineapple cheeseburger you mentioned.”

“Good plan.”

She put her napkin in her lap and smiled into Hal’s eyes as she brushed a strand of breeze-blown hair out of her face. “Now that that’s settled, I want to know everything about you, Surfer Dude.”

“Everything?” He arched a brow. “You sure? That’s a tall order.”

She shrugged and teased back. “Well then, just start with the icebreaking essentials. Tell me about your job. What are you doing for this client of yours?”

“Oh, that’s top secret.” His tone was joking and flirtatious.

He’d probably fallen prey to that old adage about a bit of mystery being good for a relationship. How could he know how much she hated top secret business?

“Seriously!” she said. “What business are you in?”

“I work for the government.”

“Ah.” She nodded. Government workers weren’t high on her list right now, especially the kind with high-level clearances and a license to kill.

He picked up on her lack of enthusiasm. “But I run a small consulting firm on the side. I’m a geopolitical analyst.”

As she stared at him, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A government geopolitical analyst from Virginia, as in right down the street from CIA headquarters at Langley? Too much coincidence. Seriously, what were the odds?

Her smile felt frozen in place. All the enjoyment of flirting and having Hal drool over her faded away.

Ty had set her up and prostituted her out to spy for him. Who was Hal really—a traitor, a mole, an enemy agent, a terrorist?

She tried to cover the shock she’d let slip on her face by playing dumb. “A geopolitical analyst?” She frowned, trying to look confused. “What is that—like a red state, blue state determination kind of thing?”

Hal laughed. His eyes lit up with excitement. “Hardly. Think global.”

What she really thought was that she could kill Ty with her bare hands. No way was she doing his spying for him. Bastard! At the first opportunity, she was out of here.
Date over.

Hal kept talking, trying to impress her. “Geopolitics covers a wide scope—everything from determining where war is most likely to break out to how to use cultural norms and politics to penetrate a new market opportunity.”

She said the first reasonable thing that popped into her head that she thought would shut him down from telling her anything more about what he did. “You must travel a lot.”

Now she was certain Ty was listening in. Maybe even watching her from behind a palm somewhere. If he’d managed to ditch Laci. She’d have to be very careful about picking up the divorce papers now.

Just what did Ty want to know from this guy? Whatever it was, she was determined
not
to find out.

Hal smiled, oblivious to her new lack of enthusiasm, or maybe trying to rekindle it. “I’ve been to Hong Kong and Taiwan. Earlier this year I spent several months in Beijing.”

China?
A cold shiver crept up her back. Way, way, way too much coincidence. Think dead Chinese waiter.

“How interesting.” Her tone was flat.

“It was. Fascinating culture.” He paused, probably sensing her waning interest. “Are you interested in the Orient?”

She shrugged. “I’ve always been more of a Western enthusiast.”

He studied her, confusion creeping into his face about what he’d done and where he’d gone wrong. She could see he was beginning to worry he was losing that loving feeling.

She had a moment of doubt. What if he was just an ordinary guy? And if he wasn’t? Just what kind of a dastardly fiend was she dealing with? She’d have to be careful. She couldn’t upset him or tip him off to her connection to Langley. She channeled her limited high school drama skills and changed tack, putting a smile in her voice. “Tell me about this client of yours—not part of your government work, is she?”

His smile brightened. He looked relieved he’d piqued her interest again. “No, no! She’s one of my private sector clients. I’ve been consulting with her, giving her the advantage of my analysis skills. I’ve developed a special software tool for her.

“In fact, I’m delivering it on Saturday. Getting a big payoff and then I’m partying.” He reached for her hand. “How about joining me?”

*   *   *

Ty sat in a Lahaina surfer bar that should have been featured on
Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives
in the dives category. The food was cheap, plentiful, and tasty. The bar was crowded with tattooed, well-built surfers, both male and female, eye candy as far as the eye could see, all hitting on each other. The guys were mostly shirtless. The girls wore skimpy bikini tops. The place smelled of beer, sweat, and coconut oil. The perfect spot to take Carrie and company for lunch to continue the surfer fantasy–themed day after their lesson.

Greg begged off to tail Treflee, which left Ty in charge of the henhouse, most of whom he hoped would be diverted by the surfer dudes around him and leave him alone to do his job. Zulu Fong, Fuk Ching gang leader, extortionist, suspected arms dealer, and rumored to have been Lin’s boss, just happened to frequent this particular dive. In fact, he currently sat in a corner booth, shirtless, displaying an elaborate flying red dragon tattoo that covered his chest and curled around to his back as he held court. The Hawaiian Fuk Ching gang symbol was tattooed on his forearm.

Zulu was young, no more than thirty, taller than your average Chinese man, and taut with stringy muscles and sharp eyes. He was also arrogant.

Before leaving the surf shop, Ty had received a message from Langley. Their informants said Zulu ordered the hit on Shen Lin at Woo Ming’s. He’d wanted it bloody and served up midday. He was sending a message. But just what that message was eluded Ty and NCS. Why had Zulu put a hit out on his own man? Just how had Shen Lin screwed up? Like RIOT, the Fuk Ching didn’t tolerate failure. Failure to do the job resulted in death.

Laci sat next to Ty at the round table. Carrie sat on his left. The other girls circulated. Laci made a lame attempt to get him to take off his rashie and blend in.

“Ah, come on,” Laci coaxed. “This place is really more of a ‘no shoes, no shirt, plenty of service’ type of place. Don’t be so stuffy! Maybe our waitress would actually bring out our order if you flashed a little skin.” She pouted. “I’m starving.”

“A shirt’s considered stuffy now?” He only listened to Laci with one ear. He tried not to frown as he listened to his wife flirt with that scumbag Hal through the earpiece in his other ear.

Carrie took a swig of her beer. “Leave him alone, Lace. Personally, I like a modest man. Anyway, he deserves his peace after saving my cousin from certain drowning.” She smiled at him, a wan, tired smile that stopped just short of her eyes.

He noticed she didn’t smile a whole lot.

“You saved my ass,” she said to Ty. “Mom would kill me if I didn’t bring her favorite niece home in one piece.”

Hal’s attempts at hitting on his wife floated through the earbud. Ty was used to this split personality, “living two lives at once,” kind of existence. He still felt like taking a slug at the guy. It took all his acting skills not to let his anger show in his face.

If he’d had any sympathy, he would have told Laci to take a hike. Her cause was lost. And old Hal needed a few pointers in seduction. The guy should know upfront that intrigue did not turn Tref on. And when it came to the intrinsic sexiness of top secret work, Ty had the idiot beat hands down.

Instead, he joined Carrie and took a long pull of his beer, shifting in his chair to face her when he was finished. “Your mom’s favorite niece, huh? Is that why you brought Treflee along?”

Carrie arched a brow and shook her head. “What are you saying, big guy?”

He chuckled as he moved his foot out of a sticky patch of spilled beer on the concrete floor. “You two don’t seem that close. I’m just wondering why you chose her to be one of your bridesmaids and invited her here. Family obligation?”

Laci snorted and scooted her chair back. “I’m going to the ladies’ room while you two discuss Carrie’s wack-job of a family. Please be done with this conversation by the time I get back.” She stood and strode off.

Carrie sighed. “Forgive Laci. She hasn’t had much luck with men lately. She’s becoming bitter.”

“Maybe because she comes on a little strong?” Ty added.

Carrie smiled and this time it reached her eyes. For the first time he saw a family resemblance to Treflee in her. Carrie would be an attractive woman if she smiled more. “Yeah, maybe that’s it. She’s trying to live up to her red hair.”

Carrie paused and studied Ty. “I saw the way you looked at Tref out there when you rescued her.”

Ty’s heart stopped.
Shit! Was I that obvious?

“I like you,” Carrie continued. “You seem like a nice guy, so let me clue you in. Pending divorce aside, Treflee loves her husband.”

Not what it sounded like from the lunch date she was having. He gulped, trying to remain cool and uninterested.

“Yeah, she may deny it.” Carrie set her beer down and ran her finger around the rim. “But I’m a cop. Give me five minutes in the interrogation room with her and I’d have the truth out of her.

“Tref’s a romantic, a dreamer, a girlie girl, and stubborn. She was crazy about Ty. Happy. Almost glowing.” Carrie threw up her hands.

“Then for no reason, she snapped. Went all reclusive for a while. No one knows why. She wouldn’t say. Claimed she was fine. But I bet there’s a story behind it. There always is.”

Carrie had his full attention now. He’d noticed the change in Tref, too. He’d thought he was the only one who had, that she was like that just around him. That she’d gone pissy over him being gone so much.

“She started ranting about how tired she was of all his traveling. Though she’d been supportive before. She got this idea it was time to pop out a kid or two. For him to stay home and be a father.” Carrie shook her head. “Though his sense of adventure was obviously what drew her to Ty in the first place.

“Call our whole clan hopeless romantics, but no one in the family gets why she’s throwing away the love of her life because he’s not ready for a baby yet.” She shrugged again. “Hell, maybe he never will be.” Carrie looked him directly in the eye. “I’ve never met him. But my mom and aunt, Treflee’s mom, tell me it’s obvious he loves her and doesn’t want this divorce. Whether he ran out like a coward or not.

“I’ll tell you this. I’d rather have a man who loves me by my side for life than a dozen kids.” She paused. “If I had to choose one or the other.”

Ty swallowed hard. He felt sorry for Carrie. The woman obviously hid a tender side beneath her tough-girl exterior. He wondered for just a second why she’d dumped her fiancé. It wasn’t his business to ask.

Carrie stared at him again. “To answer your original questions—I asked Tref to be in my wedding as a favor to my mom and aunt, and because she’s my closest family member. I dragged her along to Hawaii for her own damn good.

“She wanted to stay home and read.” She shook her head. “Tref needed an escape. Needed to get her mind off things. I figured if she experienced the fun of travel and adventure, she’d see things through Ty’s eyes and reconsider.”

Whoa! A hidden ally,
Ty thought, wondering how he could make use of her.

Carrie sighed. “I’m hoping she’ll get a big dose of the single scene.” Her voice dropped. “And see it’s no picnic, either. Having a loyal man around one week out of four is better than no man at all.”

He knew he should say something to comfort Carrie. But he had no idea what. And besides, the voice in his ear was saying the delivery was going to go down on Saturday.

Whoa! Way to go, Tref! My wife would make an ace spy.

Over at Zulu’s booth, it looked like court might be over and they’d be moving out.

Fortunately, Carrie bucked up without help. “The whole family’s angry with Tref for pursuing this divorce. We’re secretly rooting for Ty. My mom and hers are sisters. They both adore Ty. I want to see them and her happy.

“Despite Treflee and me sometimes seeming like oil and vinegar, we’re family. I’d give my life for my cousin. Do anything to protect her.” She paused again, giving him a look that reminded him of a protective father at the trigger end of a shotgun.

“Back to my point—I saw the way you looked at Treflee. It wasn’t lust I saw. You thought there was some connection, something more going on.”