Double Play by Kelley Armstrong Read Free Book Online Page B

the receiver from one hand to the other, trying to squelch that roiling in his gut that said he was already moving too slowly, that Nadia was in danger and goddamn it, he was only a couple hundred miles away and—
    He inhaled sharply. Panic. That’s what he was feeling. The last time he’d even come close . . .
    He squeezed his eyes shut and swore he could still smell the smoke.
    He’d gone to get cigarettes. His shift at the mechanic’s had ended, and he’d walked halfway home before remembering the cigarettes. His brother, Tommy, was out, and he didn’t like Jack’s brand, and it wasn’t like he could run and grab a pack himself. Not after he’d nearly lost his leg in the mission that got their two other brothers killed. The mission that made Jack tell the guys in charge to go fuck themselves. He’d warned them their plan wasn’t safe but who the fuck was he? Some kid whose only fucking talent was killing people. He’d quit the group and refused to go back, and all he’d wanted that day was to get cigarettes for Tommy. So he’d gone back for them, and when he returned to that same spot, a mile from home, he saw the smoke. He dropped the cigarettes and he ran because it didn’t matter if he couldn’t see where that smoke came from. He knew. He just knew.
    “Jack?”
    “Yeah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. You’re right. But I gotta let her know. Gotta figure out a way—”
    “I’ll tell her.”
    He shook his head. “Can’t use her phone—”
    “I have a plan.”

9 - Nadia
    “I’m going home,” I told Diaz as I met up with him in the parking lot.
    “What?”
    “My caretaker called. There’s a power-supply problem at the lodge and if we don’t get it fixed by Thursday—when we’re fully booked with a corporate retreat—we’re screwed.”
    “Okay . . .” he said slowly. He was at his car, talking over it, his hands on the roof where I could see them.
    “I wanted to help,” I said. “I still do, and if I can, I’ll come back, but really, you guys can handle this. You have actual investigators. I’m just an ex-cop who never even made detective.”
    “But you’re good. Damned good. We could really use—”
    “I can’t, and I feel like shit about that. But my real-life job comes first. I understand that’s an inconvenience, me coming here and then cutting out on you . . .”
    He shook his head. “I’m glad you came, and of course I wish you could stay, but you’re right about the lodge. It’s important for all our agents—and potential recruits—to have an outside life.” He stepped back. “Can I give you a lift to the airport?”
    “I have my rental,” I said, pointing at it.
    “I know. But I’m guessing you’re flying out of DC and traffic’s a bitch this time of day. With two of us, we can take the commuter lane. I can have the rental agency pick up your car.”
    I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”
    “Let me write down some alternate directions for you. Back roads. They’ll take you a bit out of the way, but at this time of day, it’ll be worth it. I’d suggest not booking a flight until you’re there, to be safe. They run frequently enough that you’ll have no problem getting one.”
    I thanked him as he wrote out directions. Then headed for my car. As I was getting in, Diaz called to me, “Wait! That gun I lent you—”
    I shut the door, fired up the car and, with a friendly wave—pretending I couldn’t understand what he was mouthing—I drove from the lot.
    Diaz was tailing me. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was there. Because the chances he’d sent me on these back roads to the airport just to be helpful? About zero.
    I was now on a truly back road—a dirt one. It was empty, which at least made it tough to tail. As I drove down a dip, I spotted a car in the distance behind me, its running lights off. It looked gray or silver, nearly invisible in the daylight. Diaz’s car had been dark. Was he behind that one? Or had