little superspy phone from her purse and left it on a pillow with a note. The note instructed her to keep the phone with her, and what number to call if she had an emergency.
She shivered at the thought of that. Surely no one could find her all the way up here. All that was left for her to do was wait.
She thought she remembered Bryan leaving, putting on his clothes, lightly kissing her cheek. But maybe she’d only dreamed it. Because she also remembered him saying in a hoarse whisper, “I love you, Lucy.”
Chapter 11
It was one of the few face-to-face meetings Bryan had had with Siberia. They met at a sidewalk cafe in D.C. the morning after he’d left Lucy. Each time his mind tried to wander to thoughts of her, to the way she looked when she slept, like a sexy fallen angel, he had to herd his attention back to the current time and place. If he and Siberia could solve this case, then he could think about Lucy all he wanted. Be with her, hold her, make love to her.
That was all the motivation he needed to stay focused.
“Vargov left a paper trail,” Siberia said. He was an overweight man in his fifties who hadn’t worked in the field in years due to an accident that had left him blind in one eye. His function was solely to coordinate intelligence. He wore a full, bushy beard, aviator sunglasses and a French beret, looking today more like an eccentric movie producer than a spy.
“He’s in France,” Siberia continued. “Tarantula is there now, coordinating with French intelligence agents. There’s a very good chance Vargov will be apprehended. If you want to go there as insurance, it might be a good idea.”
Bryan hesitated. He wanted to be where the action was. But the idea of going so far from Lucy made him uneasy. “I feel it’s more important to protect our witness,” he said.
“I could send a man-”
“No,” Bryan said immediately. “I don’t want another soul to know the location of that house. These guys-these terrorists, whoever they are-they’re connected. The fact that they found Lucy the first time is nothing short of amazing. I still don’t know where the picture was published.”
“It was on a Britney fan site,” Siberia said with a grimace. “I found it. Good disguise, by the way, but Ms. Miller’s face was clear.”
“So what’s left?”
“Orchid.”
Bryan was sick, thinking about his fellow agent-gone-bad. “I still can’t believe it.”
“I pray we’re wrong. We won’t know until we find her. I’m coordinating with the homicide investigators here. They think I’m CIA. I’ll know more about the time and cause of Stungun’s death soon.”
“Who was he?” Bryan asked suddenly. “Surely it doesn’t matter now.” He couldn’t stand the anonymity. He needed to put a real name to the man he’d known, a hometown, a family.
“I honestly don’t know,” Siberia said. “He was using one of the identities provided by the agency. I’m working through the chain of command to get more information. I’d like to be able to tell his family that he died defending his country-provided that’s true. We still don’t know. If he was dealing with terrorists, they’ve been known to turn on their own kind.”
The thought sickened Bryan. Was this what he had to look forward to the rest of his life? Dealing every day with the scum of the earth, perhaps the worst of the scum his own supposed allies? Unable to trust anyone, not even his fellow agents?
Bryan knew then that he wanted out of this game. What had seemed exciting years ago was less than appealing now-the lying, the danger, the betrayals, the paranoia.
This was all Lucy’s fault, he thought with a faint smile. She’d made him realize what was missing from his life- and what he very much wanted.
Lucy hadn’t yet been at the cabin twenty-four hours and she was going stir-crazy. She’d explored every nook and cranny of the old house. There was a porch out back with a hammock, and she’d already had one nap. There was no TV, no radio, no way to keep in touch with the outside world. The highlights of her day so far had been a bowl of cereal for breakfast and a ham sandwich for lunch.
The scenery was breathtaking, and at any other time she’d have delighted in the views and the cool mountain breezes, a welcome respite from the heat of the city in the dead of summer. But she couldn’t enjoy anything until she saw Bryan again, safe and sound. What had seemed an exciting lark when it started was now wearing on her nerves; she wanted it to be over. Now.
Mostly she wanted everyone out of danger. What if Vargov went after her family? But she also needed to know if what she and Bryan had shared was real, or merely a product of enforced proximity and too much adrenaline running through their veins.
Her feelings for Bryan felt very real to her, and he seemed to care for her beyond his responsibility of keeping her safe. But what did she know? She’d gotten it wrong before.
Whatever the results, she didn’t want to live any longer in the fictional world of Lindsay Morgan. She needed to know if little Lucy Miller from Kansas had a chance with a superspy.
The idea seemed ridiculous, but she still hoped.
There was nothing to read in the house, not even a deck of cards to play with.
How was she supposed to occupy herself? She finally decided to go for a run.
Bryan had told her to stay put, but she would be no safer inside the house than out. The people who were after her weren’t amateurs. Locked doors and windows would be no impediment if they really wanted her. At least if she was away from the house, she couldn’t be cornered.
Besides, she’d gotten used to having a daily run with Bryan.
She donned her stylish shorts and matching tank top, thinking what a waste it was to sweat in such chic clothes when there was not a soul out here to see her.
Thinking of Scarlet and her ban on T-shirts made her smile. Scarlet had been so good to her, and Lucy had started to think of her as a friend. Too bad she couldn’t continue that friendship after Lucy and Bryan parted ways.
Taking the phone with her, Lucy stepped outside, locked the door, pocketed the key and set out at a brisk walk, continuing up the mountain road. She wondered how close to the top her cabin was, and if there was anyone else living up this way. She sure didn’t see any signs of habitation, nor had she seen or heard a single car since she’d arrived. She’d thought the Catskills were more populated.
The uphill grade and uneven road surface made Lucy’s run a challenge, but she pushed herself, figuring if she wore herself out, a shower and a nap might eat up the rest of the afternoon and it would be dinnertime. Finally, after about thirty minutes, she turned and headed back. The downhill trip was faster, and soon her cabin came into view.
She heard a car engine, and her heart beat faster. Bryan! Was it possible he’d resolved things so quickly? But she realized the car engine didn’t sound like Stash’s Peugeot, nor like Bryan’s Jaguar. In fact, it sounded like a diesel car.
Reacting on pure instinct, she plunged into the heavy woods that surrounded the cabin, finding a vantage point where she could watch the road from behind a huge fallen tree.
She was probably being silly. It was no doubt some family on vacation, out for a drive. But soon the dark-blue Mercedes came into view, and she recognized it instantly.
Her heart beat double time and her skin, already flushed from her run, broke out in sweat. What was he doing here? How had he found her?
She pulled the phone from her pocket and carefully pushed the series of buttons that would put her in contact with Bryan. If Bryan was able to answer. Her imagination went into overdrive. What if Vargov had captured Bryan and tortured him into revealing Lucy’s whereabouts?
The phone gave a series of beeps but nothing else. No ringing. No dial tone. No nothing. She tried again. Same beeps. Same nothing.
She whispered a curse. What was wrong with the phone? She was sure she was using it correctly. The battery
