Spy High (23 page)

I eased out a sigh. It didn’t matter. I
was there to do a job.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Nichele asked.

I snapped back to the present.
“Nothing.” I cracked a huge yawn. “I just zoned out for a second
there. I had a crappy sleep last night and I’m bagged.”

“Oh.” Nichele glanced around the
abandoned kitchen, the propane lantern on our table casting the
only light. “Has everybody gone to bed already? It’s only ten
o’clock!”

“Maybe not to bed, but back to their
tents,” I said. “We tend to go with the daylight rhythms here. No
all-night clubbing for us.”

Nichele laughed. “Not so much for me
anymore, either. I’m getting old. I can only make it ‘til two
AM.”

“Well, feel free to stay up as late as
you want.” I stood and stretched, rubbing my ass to regain the
circulation after several hours of sitting in a hard wooden chair.
“I’m going to call it a night, though. I’ll walk you back to your
tent.”

“Okay.” She bounced to her feet, then
cast an uncertain look around the dark room. “Do we take the
lantern?”

“No, the lanterns stay here. I thought
Moonbeam gave you a flashlight.”

“Oh.” Nichele frowned. “She did. I
forgot it in my tent. It was still light at supper time.”

I shrugged. “I forgot mine, too, but I
always have my little one. Come on.” I extinguished the lantern and
led the way to the door.

When we stepped outside the chilly
evening breeze greeted us, and I zipped up my jacket.

“Oh,
jeez!
” Nichele’s voice
trembled, and I flashed the light in her direction. Her arms were
wrapped tightly around her naked shoulders and gooseflesh pebbled
her arms and legs. “It was so nice and warm next to the woodstove I
didn’t even think about a jacket.”

“Well, haul ass then.” I set a brisk
pace toward the encampment.

“W-wait!”

I turned in time to see her stumble
over a root. She regained her footing and hurried up, her arms
still wrapped around herself while she shivered uncontrollably. I
reluctantly removed my jacket and handed it to her, beginning to
shiver myself in my sweatshirt.

“Th-thanks.” She wrapped the jacket
around herself, her teeth chattering. “Hey, what have you g-got in
here? Rocks in your p-pockets?” she teased, and I forced a chuckle
and walked on, praying she wouldn’t pull out any of the ‘rocks’ for
examination.

As I had hoped, she hurried to follow
the faint illumination of my light.

“G-god it’s c-cold out here. And
d-dark.” She glanced fearfully around in the blackness.

“Less t-talking. M-more walking.” My
own teeth were starting to chatter with a combination of nerves and
cold.

When we arrived at her tent she shed my
jacket and dove into her cot, burrowing into the blankets so only
her nose and eyes showed.

I pulled on my jacket with relief and
searched briefly for the flashlight Moonbeam had given her. When I
found it, I placed it beside the cot. “Here, you might need this if
you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

“If I d-do, I’ll just p-pee the bed,”
Nichele quavered. “I’m not g-going out there again.”

I laughed. “This was your idea,
remember.”

“I
s-so
suck! Why d-didn’t you
t-talk me out of it? You know I hate c-camping.”

“Goodnight. Sleep tight.” I withdrew
with a grin.

As soon as I was clear of the main
encampment I delved into my pocket for my night-vision headset and
breathed a sigh of relief when my green-tinted surroundings sprang
into focus. Switching to thermal-only, I turned a slow three-sixty.
The occupied tents behind me showed as faint glows through the
trees, but no other heat signatures appeared.

Alone. Good.

I switched back to night vision and
hurried in the direction of Moonbeam and Karma’s tent. For the past
four hours I’d forgotten my mission, happily immersed in being no
more than Aydan Kelly the bookkeeper and Nichele’s best friend. Now
worry tightened my throat.

Four hours. I hadn’t seen Orion or
Moonbeam or Karma once during that time.

Shit, how could I have been so
careless? A top agent like Kane would never forget his mission;
would never let personal distractions compromise the safety of his
charges. If something bad had happened I’d never forgive
myself.

I quickened my pace to a trot.

No snoring disturbed the silence of the
forest. My stomach twisting into a cold knot, I switched to
thermal-only. Was that a faint glow through the trees?

Creeping closer, I let out a breath
when the intervening forest thinned and the glow resolved itself
into two large blobs and three small points. Moonbeam and Karma,
safe in their tent with their three fat candles burning.

Thank God.

Turning away, I massaged my thumping
heart through my jacket. So far, so good. I pulled out my tracking
unit and frowned at Orion’s dot. Over in the renters’ camp again.
What the hell was he up to?

But at least if he was there, Ratboy
probably was, too. I stood thinking for a moment. This was probably
the best time to go for a walk and report to Stemp.

I headed for one of my newly-discovered
routes.

After about twenty minutes of walking,
I scanned around me one last time before pulling out a secured
phone. Stemp answered on the first ring as always.

“It’s Aydan,” I said quietly. “Your mom
and dad are still fine. Orion has been making late-night trips over
to the renters’ encampment, and he seems to be associating with
Ratboy more frequently. I don’t know if they were friends before or
if this is a recent development. I’ll see if I can snap a photo of
Ratboy and text it to you, but for now here’s a description…”

I rattled off Ratboy’s particulars
before continuing, “Skidmark is definitely hiding something. He
pretends to be a lot more stoned than he is. Your parents said he’s
a Vietnam vet and part of his stress reaction is to control access
to and from the commune by making sure the vehicles don’t run
unless he wants them to, but I’m not convinced that’s all there is
to it.”

“Interesting.” Stemp paused as if
considering. “Easy enough to verify the military record if we have
Skidmark’s real name.”

“Do you?”

“No.” He hesitated again. “I can’t
think of any plausible reason why you would ask my parents for his
real name, and I doubt they’d tell you even if they knew. Mother is
unreasonably attached to her own nomenclature.”

“Yeah, and I don’t think Skidmark will
tell me. He didn’t even give me a straight answer when I asked why
they call him Skidmark. And there’s no point in trying to
photograph him and do facial recognition. He’s all hair and
beard.”

“But he’ll be receiving a military
pension if he’s a veteran,” Stemp replied. “I’ll have the analysts
check Veterans’ Affairs here and in the U.S. for pension cheques
going to the commune’s address or a post office box in town,
cross-referenced with approximate age. That should narrow it down
to handful of people at most. I should have that information by
late tomorrow. Meanwhile, continue to observe. If Ratboy is
spending more time on the commune, that group may be more of a
threat than we had originally thought.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

“’Til tomorrow, then.” The connection
clicked closed in my ear.

At least I didn’t have to stay up and
connect via the laptop tonight. I yawned hugely. Good thing. I
needed the sleep.

Retracing my steps, I fought to stay
alert. The thought of my bed beckoned like a promise of paradise
and I forced myself to keep checking for heat signatures every few
minutes.

When I neared the encampment, I
detoured once more to Moonbeam and Karma’s tent. Reassured by the
snores echoing through the woods as much as by my thermal display,
I turned away smiling. I’d just check Nichele’s tent on my way by,
and then glorious sleep would be mine.

Stepping softly along the path, I
studied the cluster of glows that formed the main encampment. None
moved and I eased out a breath of contentment as I got closer.
Everybody was snug in their beds, and soon I would be, too…

My veins turned to ice.

Nichele’s tent was dark and cold.

Heart hammering, I scanned wildly
around me but saw no other heat signatures besides the occupied
tents. I fought for calm. Maybe there was a simple explanation.
Maybe Nichele had just gone to the latrine.

Not likely. I’d only been gone for an
hour, and she had sounded pretty serious about staying in her
tent.

Okay, maybe Orion had dropped by and
she had succumbed to temptation and gone to his tent…

My fear mounted. Orion and Ratboy were
friends. Oh, God, what if both of them had come for her?

Oh, God, oh God…

Stay calm. Eliminate the most likely
possibilities first.

I turned and fled back along the
path.

The latrines were all unoccupied.

Gasping for breath, I shot a desperate
glance around me. Dammit, I needed a vantage point. Skidmark’s
bench would work, but I’d waste precious time getting up there and
even more rushing back the way I came. Unless they were holding her
at the garage…

Sudden realization hit me and I swore
at my own stupidity and checked Orion’s tracker. Still in the
vicinity of the renter’s camp. He could have come over and snatched
Nichele and taken her back there, but it seemed unlikely.

But I still had no idea where Ratboy
was…

A squeak snapped my head around, but it
was only one of the swings from the playground next to the
building. As I watched, the empty seat swung back and forth in the
night breeze, emitting another desolate squeak like the ghost of a
child’s laughter.

An idea dawned.

The kids had been playing when I’d
passed by at suppertime, and the braver ones had found their way
onto the dangerously pitched roof of the building. The admonitions
of their parents ringing in my ears, I hurried for the climbing
frame.

I was up to the top of it in a moment,
reaching for the naked limb of the overhanging arbutus tree. I
hesitated, hands locked on the branch. For the kids, the dangerous
part had been leaping from the top of the climbing frame to catch
the branch. It was an easy reach for me, but would it hold my
weight?

Clenching my teeth, I lifted myself
slowly from the climbing frame, my feet leaving the solid structure
with reluctance. The branch deflected but didn’t make any ominous
cracking noises, so I swung my feet up and traversed to the roof
like an ungainly sloth.

When my back contacted the roof I
squirmed around to get my feet under me before crouching, my
muscles quivering with effort and adrenaline.

Leaning forward and trying not to think
about the drop below, I cautiously scaled the slope, my fingertips
scraping the rough asphalt shingles in a fruitless attempt to find
a secure handhold. When I reached the peak at last I sucked in a
breath of relief and straddled it. Scanning again with thermal
imaging, I panted as quietly as possible.

No distinct heat signatures were
apparent near the garage, though there was a diffuse glow from the
building. Probably accumulated heat from the day’s sun. Orion’s and
my tents were both dark and cold.

To the north, I glimpsed scattered
glows from the renters’ encampment but nothing closer. A bright
movement caught my eye as I panned around to the south, but the
heat signature was close enough for me to identify a graceful neck
and four slender legs tapering into cool blue tones. Only a
deer.

Dammit, where could Nichele be?

I rose awkwardly to my feet and hands
and followed the ridge to the transverse peak that housed the big
fieldstone chimney. I had just shuffled onto the peak with shaking
legs when a shrill voice galvanized my muscles into a spastic jerk
that nearly toppled me off the roof.

“Get lost! Go on,
scat!
”

A flashlight beam raked the shingles
beside me and I flung myself behind the shelter of the chimney,
scrabbling for purchase on the slope.

“Scram! And don’t come back!”

My heart gave a painful thump when I
identified Nichele’s voice. Her flashlight scoured the roof and I
huddled closer to the chimney, shaking and trying not to
hyperventilate.

Of course. She’d been cold and she
hated tenting. It would be the most natural thing in the world for
her to abandon her tent for a warm berth beside one of the
woodstoves.

Nichele apparently decided that the
animal on the roof had fled, and her flashlight disappeared back
into the building.

Relief weakened my knees and I fought
to stay upright, hugging the chimney like a life preserver.
Gradually my heart rate slowed, but fatigue and nerves conspired to
magnify the tremors of my legs. The chilly breeze swirled around
me, tempting my overworked muscles to cramp.

The ground looked very far away, and I
swallowed hard. All of a sudden I didn’t appreciate the clarity of
night vision quite so much.

How the hell was I supposed to get down
from the roof? As soon as my boots scraped the shingles Nichele
would come running out with her flashlight again. And I couldn’t
think of any plausible excuse if she caught me squatting up here
like a constipated gargoyle.

A spiteful sprinkling of cold rain
spurred me into motion. If I didn’t move before the shingles got
wet and slick, I wouldn’t need an excuse; I’d just need a body
bag.

Or worse, I’d need a full-body cast
and
an excuse.

I coaxed my quivering muscles into
motion, bending double to walk my hands along the peak and follow
with my feet as quietly as possible.

Head down, ass up like a particularly
uncoordinated inchworm, I crept across the ridge to the junction
and turned the corner onto the final stretch of the roof peak. Too
afraid to look anywhere but in front of me, I sent a silent prayer
skyward that there was nobody watching with night vision right now.
A hysterical urge to giggle seized me at the thought, but a moment
later the giggle turned into a squeak of terror when my foot
slipped.