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Right now, it feels more like a prophecy.
“Why didn’t she call me?” I ask, checking my phone for the third time. But no, there’s still no missed call or text from my sister from last night. And no response to my request that she call me as soon as possible sent two seconds ago.
Nora shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe her phone’s dead. All she had with her was her purse. If she didn’t have a charger, her cell could be dead by now.”
I drag a hand through my hair as I rise from the couch, pacing the open stretch of carpet by the door. “Maybe, but she has my number memorized. She could have called me from a landline, once she was near one. And why didn’t she get on the plane? Why was she outside the airport anyway? We watched her go in. She should have been safe.”
“I don’t know, Matty,” Nora says, the pity in her voice making me feel even worse.
I don’t deserve her pity. I’ve screwed everything up and put my sister in danger, all because I couldn’t admit that my last operation is a disaster, and I’ll be leaving the CIA with my tail tucked between my legs instead of in a blaze of glory.
But fuck glory. I just want the people I care about safe.
Right now.
“I have to go find her. Then, we’ll go to the police,” I say, despair and relief mixing in my chest. I’ve never been good with failure, but it will be a relief to have the full power of the agency and law enforcement behind me to help clean up this mess.
“But then your mission is a bust and you’ll be in trouble with the CIA,” Nora says, making me spin back to face her. She’s sipping coffee on the couch like this is any other morning, looking only slightly guilty as she adds, “I snuck around to the back of the diner and eavesdropped on your phone call last night. I know you’re a spy.”
“Officer,” I mumble numbly out of habit. “We’re officers. Not spies. And how? Where were you? I didn’t hear anything.”
She shrugs. “I can be really quiet when I want to be. And the diner’s exhaust fan was loud.”
“If you’d been one of the Sweetwaters, I could be dead,” I say, feeling even worse about myself than I did before.
“But you’re not dead,” she says. “You’re in luck. Because now you have someone to help you make this better before it’s too late, and without getting a black mark on your record that will haunt you when you’re off spying down in South America.”
“I won’t be spying in South America,” I say, deciding I might as well be honest, since the cat is already out of the bag and burping softly on the couch beside Nora.
Poor Clyde. I’m going to talk to his owner about meds when I drop him off. I’ll pay for them myself if need be.
“This is my last job,” I add. “I’m on my way out.”
Nora nods. “All the more reason to leave on a high note. So, this is what I propose…”
She proceeds to lay out a more detailed version of her plan from last night. It isn’t half bad…as long as I don’t mind putting her in the line of fire.
But I do.
I shake my head. “It’s too dangerous. We don’t know when Rex tried to grab Mel. If it was after we texted and called a truce, then this meeting today is a set up.”
“Which is why you tell him you need to meet him at the ice-skating rink downtown,” she says, with a triumphant grin. “It opens for the season this afternoon. He wouldn’t dare make a move in front of so many people. Or on ice skates. Most people aren’t as good on skates as you are.” I frown, and she adds in a slightly self-conscious voice, “I had a teenaged crush. I noticed that you were really good at lake hockey when you’d play with your brothers.”
“I’ll see if he’s up for that,” I say after a moment, cutting off Nora in the middle of her celebratory “huzzah!” with a stern finger. “But you’re not coming along. You’ll stay here, out of town, in a hotel room under a different name, surrounded by miserable couples who will ask lots of nosy questions if they see you in trouble. Which they won’t. Since you won’t leave the room until I get back.” I shoot off a quick text to Rex and tuck my cell back in my pocket, looking up to find her watching me.
She holds my gaze, steel in her tone. “You need me.”
“I don’t,” I insist.
“Well, you need someone, Lone Ranger,” she says, setting her cup back into the saucer with a sharpclink. “This has clearly gotten too big for one spy.”
“Officer,” I correct.
“So, as I see it, you have two choices,” she pushes on, ignoring me. “You either go to your handler, admit you’re in over your head, and get help that way, wrecking your last assignment and all the work you’ve done to take down the Sweetwaters in the process. Or you let me help you try to pull this out of the fire before it’s too late.” She stands, turning her back on me as she heads over to put her cup in the sink. “I suggest you mull it over while we talk about our marital trauma this morning and let me know. Also let me know how much you want to tell Mel and Aaron. I’ve managed to calm Aaron down by texting him that I’m in a very public place and have no intention of leaving it, but I’ll have to tell him something when we talk on the phone this afternoon. I suggest the truth. He’s a vault, and since you’re on your way out, anyway, I don’t see that being honest with a few people is such a big deal.”
I curse, bringing my hand to rub the tops of my eyes.
“Yes, my feeling, as well,” she says. “It’s a lot. But when things get to be a lot, we just have to take them one thing at a time. First, we do our best as Charles and Kitty, then we’ll get lunch and solidify the next stage of the plan.”
