The Seven Year Itch by S D Skye Read Free Book Online Page A

Macy’s—nice Movado. The fact
that Vorobyev would send you back to Moscow yesterday if he knew the truth. I
could talk your ear off…but I won’t.”
    He looked down at his watch again. An ill-timed wince
betrayed his stoic expression.
    “Instead, I think it would be more productive to our
relationship if you’d permit me to share some information with you… about your father ,” she offered, opting
to take a more sensitive approach. He mattered, and J.J. wanted him to trust
her. Sources who believed they mattered the most, divulged the most secrets.
    “Don’t you dare speak of my father! Don’t you speak his name!” he said, his expression
gruff.
      She froze. The sound
of footsteps neared. She watched the door and waited, prepared to conceal
herself in a stall. Within seconds, they passed.
    “Sergey Plotnikov, right?” she asked, eager to glimpse his reaction. If he was angry, well...anger was a
good sign. “I know what the KGB did to him.”
    His face reddened as he moved toward the exit. He grew more
agitated by the second. “Who in this business doesn’t?”
    “And I know what he did .”
She said, poking the bear to get a reaction.
    He breathed heavily and growled, “He was innocent!” His stark
expression hardened, knowing and cold. The scars from his memories were still
fresh and soul-deep. At that moment, she believed he’d secretly willed her to
show up. Somewhere. Anywhere. She would be the vessel he used to exact his
revenge.
      “They used him as a
pawn. As if they really needed another excuse to justify the Cold War,” she
said. “He never worked for us. We targeted him but he honored your family,
refused to cooperate,” she said, referring to U.S. intelligence services, the
CIA in particular. “Can we talk?”
      “But I—I have to . . .
we’re returning to the embassy in a short time. I must leave.”
    J.J.’s eyebrow rose. A plan. She needed a plan. She expected
to cast the bait. She didn’t expect the big fish to bite on the first try. His
concession came a bit too easy for her tastes. Either he was trying to set up
J.J. or...he’d been waiting for her all along. She didn’t know which but
second-guessing herself would need to wait. She had more pressing matters.
“Listen, they can’t leave the outlet without you. And I can make you disappear
for a short while without drawing undue suspicion.”
    “How?”
    Her world had been irrevocably changed by one word. He didn’t
answer “no” rather “how.” He’d been waiting. “Meet me at Spencer’s Gifts in
five minutes. I’ll take it from there.”
    He nodded yes, still nervous. Cautious.
    A short discussion with her informant, a security guard she’d
developed into a willing snitch, and she entered the store moments later. She
scanned the store for other Embassy personnel. Front. Back. Nobody important.
Just a handful of patrons selecting greeting card from the rack in the rear of
the store where she needed them to be. But they probably wouldn’t stay put for
long. She glanced at her watch.
    Where is he?
    Had he changed his mind? Had embassy security spotted him
before he walked inside? As she started toward the door, he entered,
acknowledged her with a split-second nod, still carrying his bag.
    She fixed her gaze on him, followed his every move. She
placed her hands on the shelf beside her, and without looking, grabbed the soft
plastic package beneath her fingers. Didn’t look at it. Didn’t matter what it
was.
    In one seamless motion, she swept by him, bumped his bag and
dropped the item inside. The brush pass was over as fast as it began. “Meet me
outside,” she whispered.
    He jerked his head toward her then continued perusing the
novelty tees until she reached the exit. Plotnikov picked up his bag, started
out behind her. As soon as his foot crossed the threshold, an alarm blared. The
slovenly security guard was already en route. He slogged toward Plotnikov, at
J.J.’s request with his hand