Two Lies and a Spy (6 page)

I grab the wide leather strap of her purse, yank it hard, and pull her down onto the sidewalk. I don’t even break stride as I vault over her and run like hell.

Fast footsteps come from behind.

Mitch can, and will, outrun me.

My options: none.

Only the thought of Charlie makes me do what I do next.

Directly ahead is a guy on a Harley, stopped at a red light.

As the light goes green, I fly toward him—literally fly—and land straddled over the back of his bike. The guy almost falls over, but braces fast with his foot.

“I have a gun!” I scream in his ear. “Get me out of here! Go!”

He takes half a second to blink in disbelief.

I jab my small flashlight into his kidney, hard.

He shoots forward, just as Mitch grabs my shoulder.

The fabric of my top rips, but I ignore that and clutch the stranger around the middle as he accelerates.

“Go north!” I yell.

He nods.

I can see only the lower half of his face in the rearview mirror, his lips thin and his jaw tense. “I won’t hurt you,” I shout into his ear. “There’s a man after me—I have to lose him.”

He nods again. He definitely saw Mitch try to pull me off the back of his bike. His mouth relaxes, infinitesimally, as he decides he’s a savior and not a victim.

I wish I could have him take me all the way to Kennedy Prep, but chances are that the Agency is already running his plates, thanks to Mitch, and will be questioning him within a couple of hours.

So I have him drop me in a residential area where it’ll be easy for me to borrow another car.

“Thanks,” I say, as I slip off the bike. “I wish I could explain.”

He just looks at me and shakes his head. “One question.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

I nod. “Like I said, I just needed to get away from that guy.”

“Should I call the cops?”

“No!”

He shakes his head again. “All right. I won’t ask.” He pauses, looking at me. Then he fishes a small, black leather wallet out of his back pocket and hands me a plain white card with a number on it. “If you need anything in the future, if you’re in trouble like this again, you can call this number.”

It’s my turn to blink. “Okay . . .”

He revs the bike, and then he’s gone—before I can even ask his name.

I walk a couple of blocks to calm my nerves and make sure I’m not being followed. I wonder about the strange guy with nerves of steel and no name, but worry for my parents soon pushes him out of my mind. I’m just glad he was at the right place at the right time.

As soon as I’ve caught my breath, I call Charlie to check on him—I’m petrified that Mitch and company know which hotel I came out of.

“Hey, sis,” he says, sounding distracted.

“Hey, kiddo. Whatcha doing?”

“Reading about the jet stream,” he says.

Of course he is. “Listen, put on all your Charlotte stuff, even the wig. Stay in it, okay?”

“Why?”

“And keep that ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door.”

“Yup. Why?”

“Because I just saw Mitch,” I tell him, editing heavily. “There are a bunch of hotels in this area, so I don’t think he knows which one I came out of, but still—be careful. I’ll be back this afternoon to get you, and we’ll move.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t even go to the vending machine. You’ll have to drink tap water. Promise?”

“Yes.”

“I love you. Be back soon.”

I hang up, relieved, and check out a few vehicle possibilities before borrowing an old green Honda Civic. It looks like something that belongs to someone’s assistant, a person who (I hope) won’t need it back until around five. The driver has left a wool fedora-style hat in the passenger seat, so I put it on to hide my Goth hair.

I merge into traffic, horrendous as usual, and crawl in the direction of Kennedy Prep. As long as we don’t come to a dead stop, I should be okay on time, in spite of my little adventure. At the most I’ll be five minutes late, and track practice runs over a lot.

When I finally pull into the parking lot, I have to snort, because Rita is draped over the hood of her car, eyes closed, looking like an intellectual biker model ready for a photo shoot.

I pull the Civic into a vacant parking spot, cut the engine, ditch the hat, and get out. I glance over to where the track team is running drills on the field, and enjoy drooling over Luke’s legs from afar. I also note the way the damp fabric of his shorts clings to his buns. What can I say? Rita opens her eyes, slides off her car, and rolls her eyes.

“Don’t trip over your tongue,” she says. “It’s like a red carpet, leading all the way to your heart.”

“You’re funny.”
Not.

“Where’d you get the stellar wheels?”

“Borrowed ’em.”

Rita smirks.

Coach blows his whistle and indicates that the team should stretch out. I’m only human—I enjoy that, too. But I’m tense. I’m starting to wonder just how you ask a guy you don’t know all that well for access to his dad’s laptop so that you can hack it for what might be state secrets.

Seriously. Just what am I supposed to say here?

Coach gives the team a few minutes and then blows his whistle again. They’re free to go . . . all except Luke. Coach waves Luke over to talk to him about something, and Rita and I duck behind her car until all the other guys are gone.

Part of me is glad for the delay, because it gives me time to come up with a couple of nice, casual lines.

Me:
Hey, Luke. How’s it going?

Him:
Who are you?

Oh yeah. I’m still all Gothed up. He won’t even recognize me. But he’ll recognize Rita. And Rita will convince him that I’m me, underneath all this gloom and doom.

So let’s try this again.

Me:
Hi, Luke. It’s Kari, under here.

Him:
Kari? Oh, hey . . . we have to call the police and report that you’re found.

Me:
No, no, no—don’t do that!

Him:
Why not?

I gulp. “Rita, what should I do? I have no clue what to
say to him.”

“I don’t know, Kari. But you better make up your mind, because here he comes.”

Luke is headed toward us, all hot, sweaty, and fine almost-six-feet of him.

And I am still without a clue. But at least I don’t have Peanut M&M’s on my teeth.

Luke smells like clean sweat and fresh-cut grass. He still has droplets of perspiration dotting his forehead and temples when he reaches us, and his hair is damp and spiky from practice. All I can think of is that this must be how he looks when he comes out of the shower, with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

I’m probably panting at him like a puppy, because he gives me a casual glance and then looks away as if he’s a little embarrassed.

“Hi, Rita,” he says. “Who’s your friend?”

“It’s Kari,” she tells him in a theatrical whisper.

Luke does a double take. “Kari? As in Andrews?”

I nod.

“Oh my God—you’re okay!” he exclaims. “You look—so different.”

“Yeah.” I gesture ruefully at my clothes.

“I’ve been really worried about you, and I’ll bet your parents are too. Do you know it’s been all over the news that you and Charlie are missing? I even looked for you myself, in every hangout I could think of around school.”

Luke’s been worried about me. Wow. And he tried to
find me? A warm glow envelops my heart.

Immediately he says, “We should let the cops know that you’re safe—”

“Negative.” Rita shakes her head.

Luke’s eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean? Haven’t you seen a television lately?”

“Please,” I say. “
Please
do
not
tell anyone that you have seen me. Promise.”

“But—”

“Luke, it’s really important,” Rita tells him. “Nobody can know.”

“My parents are missing,” I blurt. “And I think they’re in trouble. I have to find them—I have to help them—and if the police take me and Charlie into custody as minors, then I can’t do that.”

Luke stares from me to Rita and back. He takes a deep breath. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

I summarize what’s going on as best I can, while he listens.

“Your parents work for the Agency?” he asks.

“Yes. And they’re not in human resources or accounting, if you know what I mean.”

He nods. “Wow. I had no idea. My dad never told me. But then, he wouldn’t.” He laces his fingers behind his neck and stretches out his shoulders, still trying to absorb this information.

I nod. “And so—I really hate to ask you this—but I need your help.”

“Of course,” Luke says. He’s such a good guy. “What
can I do?”

I swallow hard. “Rita and I need access to your dad’s work laptop.”

Luke’s expression changes from good-natured and helpful to stunned and wary. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I wish.” I stand my ground, even though I’d love to tell him that it’s all a big joke.

“Kari—” He drags a hand down his face and laughs without humor. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Rita demands.

“My dad’s the freakin’ director! I can’t just hand over his laptop to two girls who happen to attend the same school as me.”

“We know exactly who your dad is. That’s why we need your help,” Rita explains to him, as if he’s a two-year-old—and not a very bright one.

“This isn’t like hacking someone’s Facebook page, Rita. We’re talking about national security here.” He uses the same tone with her.

“Exactly,” I chime in. “My parents have worked for the Agency for twenty years. They’re loyal employees, and they need help now that they’re in trouble.”

Luke nods. “Great. So let’s go talk to my dad, and he will work through official channels to help them.”

It sounds logical and reasonable—I have to admit that. But too many things aren’t adding up. “No. Mitch has been with the Agency for almost as long as my parents have, and he’s the one who tried to kidnap me and Charlie. The last thing I want is for Mitch or his buddy
Gary Whatever to know where I am or what my movements are.”

“So we tell my dad to keep things quiet,” Luke says.

“I think it’s a bad idea,” Rita declares. “What if he only tells one person, and that employee is the very one who’s not trustworthy?”

“Luke, my parents’ lives could be at stake.” I hate the pleading note that enters my voice, but I can’t seem to suppress it.

He closes his eyes. “You’re asking me to break into a government database.”

“No,” Rita corrects him. “We’re asking you for thirty minutes alone with your dad’s laptop. You won’t have anything to do with the security breach.”

“Except engineering the opportunity,” Luke says.

I can see guilt eating him up at the very idea. He opens his eyes but sets his jaw and flattens his lips. I’m afraid he’s about to say no. I wince.

But before he can say anything, a completely unwelcome, hateful, British voice joins the conversation. “Oh, come, Lucas. You won’t find a prettier reason anywhere to throw your pops under a bus.”

Rita shrieks.

I almost come out of my skin.

And even Luke takes a step backward as Evan appears out of thin air. “Where the hell did you come from, dude?”

“Ah.” Evan smirks and holds up an index finger. “First rule of a sneak attack: Be sneaky.” He looks at each of our faces briefly, and then his gaze returns to mine. “You look
as if you bit into a thundercloud, love. Indigestion?”

“Evan, what are you doing here?” I snap.

“Just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“Right. And you just happened to be at the Starbucks in Union Station too.”

He looks at me with an expression of kindly tolerance. “Second rule of a sneak attack, Kari my love: Perform surveillance upon other sneaky persons before sneaking up on them.”

“How did you recognize me?” I am annoyed beyond reason.

He grins a predatory male grin. “Would you really like to know?”

I am so tempted to head-butt his nose, just as I did to Mitch. But I just raise my eyebrows and wait for him to illuminate me.

“You’ve done a rather good job of transforming yourself, I must say. But you haven’t bothered to change your gait—and it gives you away as an athlete, not a rebellious, chain-smoking night crawler who’s never seen the inside of a gym.”

I’m disgusted with myself, which makes me even angrier with Evan.

“That was what led me to look at you more carefully. But there’s something else that you simply can’t hide.”

I stare stonily at him and refuse to take the bait. But Rita’s dying of curiosity.

“What?” she prompts him.

His gaze slides to her for a moment and then returns to me as his smirk widens. “It’s the curve of your arse,
love. I’d know it anywhere.”

Rita’s jaw drops open.

Luke has a sudden coughing fit and smothers it in the crook of his elbow.

And I stand there mortified, unable to think of a suitably scathing response. Finally I say, “Evan, we were actually having a private conversation. So if you don’t mind . . .”

“Sod off?” he finishes helpfully.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I find that I have an overwhelming desire to play superspy along with the rest of you.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels.

I close my eyes. That means he’s heard
everything
. And I still don’t know where he was hiding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hedge.

“Oh, I’ll wager that you do. Your parents are missing, you want Lucas here to keep your secret—and better yet, to allow our lovely Larita to hack into his noble sire’s laptop. Does that sum things up?”

Luke looks up at the sky and exhales. Then he looks down at his running shoes and shakes his head.

“Evan, don’t you have someone else to annoy?”

“Let me think.” He strokes his chin for a moment. “No. Sorry.”

“We don’t want you here,” I say.

Luke rubs the back of his neck and carefully avoids Evan’s gaze.

“I’d truly hate to have to report to the authorities that
I saw you, love. But naturally, it would be only for your safety.”