Authors: Diane Henders
Tags: #suspense, #mystery, #espionage, #romantic, #series, #humorous, #women sleuths, #speculative, #amateur sleuths, #racy
Spy High
Book 9 of the NEVER SAY SPY series
By Diane Henders
Published January 2015 by PEBKAC
Publishing
Smashwords Edition v.3
ISBN 978-1-927460-21-4
The town of Silverside and all secret
technologies are products of my imagination. If I’m abducted by
grim-faced men wearing dark glasses, or if I die in an unexplained
fiery car crash, you’ll know I accidentally came a little too close
to the truth.
This is a work of fiction. All of the
characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are
products of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Please respect my hard work by complying
with copyright laws. This e-book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. You may not resell this e-book under any
circumstances.
Thank you for reading!
Copyright © 2015 Diane Henders
All rights reserved, including the right
to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
Book 1: Never Say Spy
Book 2: The Spy Is Cast
Book 3: Reach For The Spy
Book 4: Tell Me No Spies
Book 5: How Spy I Am
Book 6: A Spy For A Spy
Book 7: Spy, Spy Away
Book 8: Spy Now, Pay Later
Book 9: Spy High
Book 10: Spy Away Home
More books coming! For a current list,
please visit
www.dianehenders.com
Or sign up for my New Book Notification
list at
For Phill
Thank you for being my technical advisor
and the most tolerant husband ever. Much love!
To my beta readers/editors,
especially Carol H., Judy B., and Phill B., with gratitude:
Many thanks for all your time and effort in catching my spelling
and grammar errors, telling me when I screwed up the plot or the
characters’ motivations, and generally keeping me honest.
To Rick and Sandy H. at Hand Crafted
Images:
Your talent makes my covers extra-special, and your
sense of humour makes photo sessions fun even for a camera-hater
like me. Thank you!
To Steve A. and the staff at The
Shooting Edge:
Thank you for lending us your excellent
facilities for our cover photo sessions. You guys rock!
To everyone else, respectfully:
If you find any typographical errors in
this book, please send an email to
[email protected]
.
Mistakes drive me nuts, and I’m sorry if any slipped through.
Please let me know what the error is, and on which page (or at
which position in e-versions). I’ll make sure it gets fixed as soon
as possible. Thanks!
Contents
A distant shout made me jerk my head up
to listen. A moment later I identified both the voice and the name
it was calling.
Shit!
Snapping a glance around the forest, I
dodged off the gravel path and dashed through the undergrowth to my
favourite giant cedar tree.
Thank God I hadn’t been spotted.
Yet.
I ducked behind the tree and squashed
through the large crack into its hollow trunk, hunching over
awkwardly in the damp cedar-scented dimness. Even the thumping of
my heart couldn’t drown out the calls of my pursuer.
“Storm! Hello-o-o! Storm Cloud Dancer,
where are you?” Aurora Peace Rain’s strident voice made me wince
and cower deeper into my hiding place.
Her calls got louder and I suppressed a
groan. What the hell had I been thinking? If she caught me hiding
in here, how would I explain myself?
“Storm!”
She must be standing right on the other
side of the tree. If she came around it, she’d see my legs through
the crack…
“
Storm!
”
Shit, and if she kept screeching like
that, the damn tree was likely to split under the vocal
assault.
The swish-thump of boots tramping
through undergrowth sounded nearly on top of me and I squeezed my
eyes shut.
If she caught me I’d tell her… um…
My eyes popped open as inspiration hit.
I didn’t have to look like a deranged chickenshit. I’d just say I
was communing with the Earth Spirit in here. Anywhere else in
Canada that would be good for a VIP ticket to a psych evaluation,
but here on the commune they’d probably be thrilled.
She gave one more ear-piercing call
before her footsteps faded, and her next shout came from farther
away.
I let out my breath with a whoosh and
slid down to crouch on the damp ground, giving thanks for the size
of the trees here in the B.C. rainforest.
God, I needed to get back to my
secluded Alberta farm. After four months of living a communal
lifestyle my nerves were scraped raw. I cast a sheepish glance
around my cramped refuge before thumping my forehead against my
drawn-up knees.
How pathetic. Hiding like a coward just
because I couldn’t bear Aurora’s voice. She was actually quite a
nice kid… well, twenty-something. But her enthusiastic expositions
on the benevolence of the Earth Spirit had gotten old after the
first week. And that voice of hers, my God…
I leaned my head against the rough wood
behind me and drew in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, I
debated how long to stay hidden. Aurora’s calls had faded into the
distance, but there was no telling whether she’d come back this
way. I’d wait a little longer.
After several more minutes of crouching
in silence my legs began to rebel, and the confined space made my
breathing accelerate even though the opening was only a foot away.
What if something happened? What if the tree somehow shifted and
trapped me inside?
I drew a deep breath and let it out
slowly. Don’t be stupid. That couldn’t happen. Just stay in here a
little longer…
Claustrophobia won at last and I was
about to make my escape when the distant crunch of footsteps on
gravel made me hunch down again.
Dammit, she was coming back.
Moments later I realized it wasn’t
Aurora when I heard quiet male voices over the footsteps.
Well, fine. In a few minutes they’d be
past. The commune was all about tolerance and understanding, but
that didn’t mean I wanted to be known as a forty-seven-year-old
woman who hid inside hollow trees like a kid.
Besides, there was no need to give away
my hiding place. I might want to use it again.
I settled back to wait.
The footsteps got louder and a snatch
of conversation drifted to my ears.
“…think it’ll be soon?”
“Mesker will tell us when.”
“Aw, come on…”
That voice sounded familiar. I frowned,
trying to place it.
It went on, “…you’re his right-hand
man. You must know.”
I jerked upright with recognition,
nearly cracking my head on the inside of the tree.
Orion Moonjava.
A pause, then the second voice spoke
again, sounding smug. “Soon. Maybe even this week.”
The voices and footsteps were fading
and I eased my head out the crack to peek at the two figures
receding along the path. Orion’s broad shoulders, wavy brown hair,
and buns of steel were easy to identify, but I didn’t recognize his
short, slightly-built companion. All I could see of him was black
hair, baggy camo pants, and military-style boots.
The smaller man spoke again, his words
drifting back to me so faintly I could barely identify the words.
“I can hardly wait to get rid of the filth…”
Orion laughed as they disappeared
around a bend in the path and their voices dwindled.
Heart pounding, I withdrew into the
safety of my tree again.
If I wasn’t on a covert mission I’d
probably dismiss the conversation without a second thought, but it
was my job to be suspicious. And the words ‘get rid of the filth’
had sent a shiver down my spine. I hoped he’d been talking about
the mud on his boots.
Or maybe I’d heard him wrong.
Feeling antsy, I squeezed out of my
hiding place and stood hesitating. Should I follow them and try to
overhear more?
But that likely wouldn’t work. If I
walked on the path they’d hear my footsteps on the gravel, and if
they caught me skulking along in the undergrowth I’d rouse their
suspicions in return. Orion thought I was just a bookkeeper, and I
wanted to keep it that way.
But dammit, this was the second thing
about Orion that had made me uneasy…
“Storm!”
I jumped at the sound of Aurora’s call
and flung a wild glance toward my tree, but it was too late. She’d
spotted me.
“There you are!” Her voice assaulted my
ears even from several yards away as she jogged up. “There’s a
phone call for you,” she panted. “Where were you? I’ve been looking
and looking.”
Hoping to limit our encounter, I broke
into a jog toward the main building. “Thanks, Aurora,” I threw over
my shoulder. “If I run maybe I can catch them before they hang
up.”
I should have known better. She caught
up easily, and short of making an obvious race of it I couldn’t
shake her. Hell, she could probably outrun me anyway. I was in good
shape, but so was she. And she was about twenty-five years
younger.
I settled into a steady jog and
resigned myself to my fate as she began, “Hasn’t the Earth Spirit
given us a lovely day today? It’s so nice to get a break from the
rain…”
I kept jogging, nodding grimly and
trying not to wince while her monologue battered my eardrums like
machine-gun fire.
When we panted up to the main building
and ducked inside I sucked in a breath of relief at the sight of
the old-fashioned telephone receiver dangling by its curly
cord.
“Oh, good,” I interrupted Aurora’s
soliloquy. “Looks like they’re still on the line. Thanks for coming
to get me.”
“You’re welcome, Storm!” Her voice rose
in enthusiasm and I took an involuntary step backward.
“Talk to you later, then,” I said, and
hurried over to snatch up the receiver.
Aurora gave me a sunny smile and
departed, and my “Hello?” wafted into the receiver on a sigh of
relief.
“Is this Aydan Kelly?” The voice of my
best friend made my heart lift.
“Nichele!” I clutched the receiver,
grinning. “How the hell are you? It’s so great to hear your
voice!”
“Aydan, finally!” Her squeal of delight
would have made me yank the receiver away from my ear if I hadn’t
just been subjected to Aurora’s jackhammer voice. “Girl, I can’t
believe I’m finally getting to talk to you! Where were you? You
sound like you just ran a mile!”
“I damn near did.” I sucked in a few
deep breaths, trying to control my panting. “I was on the other
side of the commune. Sorry you had to wait so long. Talk to me
while I catch my breath.”
She launched into her usual exuberant
chatter and I leaned against the wall, still grinning. This was
going to take a while.
2
“…secluded raincoast paradise, my ass!”
I jammed the receiver between my chin and shoulder, the better to
wave my arms while I paced. “Secluded, yeah, it’s ‘way out in the
sticks; and ‘raincoast’ is no exaggeration. But ‘paradise’? Ha! If
there’s really a hell, it’s not fiery-hot like everybody thinks.
It’s cold and wet and gloomy…”