Kara Lennox - Under Deepest Cover

Dynasties: The Elliotts

You have to get me out of this! Lucy Miller hissed into her encrypted cell phone, the one that had been delivered to her home a few weeks ago. The phone had rung just as shed left a staff meeting. Shed ducked into the ladies rest room, where shed checked every stall to make sure she was alone.

Relax, Lucy, said the soothing voice Lucy had come to know so well. She had often fantasized about what the man who owned that deep, sexy voice might look like, but not today. Today she was too terrified to fantasize about anything but getting out of this situation with her skin intact.

Dont you tell me to relax, she whispered back. You arent the one stuck in this bank trying to act normal when she knows shes about to get liquidated.

Liquidated? You must be watching too much Get Smart. No one is trying to kill you.

You didnt see the man who was following me. I know a hit man when I see one.

He was wearing a coat, and its like ninety degrees outside.

Its also raining in D.C. today. He probably had on a raincoat.

Casanova, youre not listening! My cover has been blown. Someone has been in my apartment. Either you get me out of here, or Ill hop the first plane I can find to South America and Ill take all my data with me!

No! Lucy, be reasonable-

Im done being reasonable. Ive done everything you asked without question.

Ive trusted you implicitly, though Ive never met you and dont even know your name. Now its your turn to trust me. Im not stupid. If you dont get me out, this very expensive little cell phone is going into the nearest sewer, and youll never hear from me again.

All right! Ill be there by five-thirty, six at the latest. Can you hang tight till then? Can you make it home?

Lucy took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Shed spotted her tail three days ago, and shed realized yesterday that someone had searched her apartment.

But so far her observer was keeping his distance. Maybe she could make it a few more hours. She struggled for a reasonable tone of voice. Ill do my best. But if anything happens, tell my parents I love them, okay?

Youll be fine, drama queen.

Lucy disconnected before she said something shed regret. Drama queen? Did Casanova think she was some flaky paranoid? Hadnt she proved her worth over the past weeks? Casanova. Whod come up with that handle, anyway, and why?

She put the cell phone back in her purse and started to exit the rest room, but then she caught a look at herself in the mirror. She looked like a mad woman, her wavy brown hair escaping from its customary bun and frizzing around her face, her cheeks flush with panic, eyes wild with fear behind her glasses. She took five minutes to neaten her hair, powder her nose and apply her pink lipstick. The shade did nothing for her, but that didnt matter. She wasnt exactly supermodel material these days. She only wore a little makeup because she was in an executive position and the other female executives did.

Shed been trying to fit in, not call attention to herself.

When she looked and felt more composed, she left the sanctuary of the rest room and headed for her office, hoping she could close the door and hole up in there for the rest of the afternoon. She was afraid that if she had to deal with anyone, she would fall apart.

Some spy you turned out to be, Lucy Miller. Disintegrating at the first sign of danger.

As luck would have it, she rounded a corner and ran right into the banks portly CEO, the man whod hired her.

Oh, hello, Lucy, he said politely. I was just looking for you.

Sorry, I was in the ladies room. My lunch isnt sitting well, Im afraid. She figured he wouldnt ask too many questions about that. He was easily embarrassed, shed discovered.

He scrutinized her face with his one good eye. The other had been destroyed in some kind of accident, though she didnt know the details. Her skin prickled with nerves. Could he see her fear?

You dont look well, he said. Youre very pale. Are you sure youre okay?

Im fine, really. Just like Mr. Vargov to be concerned. He was a kind, fatherly man, a friend of her uncle Dennis whod given her this job when she sorely needed a safe, stable employment. Shed been underqualified for the fund auditors job, with her piddling bachelors degree in finance and no experience to speak of, but she felt shed performed the job well.

Too well, in Mr. Vargovs opinion. He thought she was too conscientious. He hadnt taken her suspicions about embezzlement very seriously. That was why shed gone to Homeland Security. That was how shed gotten involved with Casanova.

Why dont you take the rest of the afternoon off? Mr. Vargov suggested.

Oh, I couldnt. You said you wanted those reports-

The reports can wait. Your uncle would have my hide if he found out I was cracking the whip over you when youre sick.

Thanks, Mr. Vargov. Maybe I will leave just a little early if I dont feel better.

I think you should.

And maybe, she thought, if she left early, she could fool the man or men whod been following her. She wouldnt mind saying goodbye to this place. Shed needed a place to recover, to heal, to get her bearings, and Alliance Trust had provided that. Her co-workers had been kind, the working conditions pleasant.

Her boss hadnt required too much of her, and the salary had been much higher than someone her age and experience normally earned.

But it was time to move on. She would spend another hour downloading as much information as she could onto her supercapacity memory stick, then leave here and never come back.

Casanova would take her to a safe house. Hed promised. And then, when all the arrests were made and the perpetrators were in jail, she could start over somewhere else. A new job, a new life.

It sounded like heaven.

At ten after three, she was ready. She stashed the memory stick in her bra.

Taking only her purse and umbrella, she told Peggy Holmes, Mr. Vargovs executive secretary and the woman who knew everything, that she was going home early due to an upset stomach.

Oh, my dear, I hope its nothing serious. Youve missed only one day of work since you started here, and that was for a root canal. On a lower-left molar, I believe. Peggy was in her sixties and had worked for Mr. Vargov for twenty-something years. With her tightly permed hair and dumpy, big-bosomed figure, she was everyones grandmother. But Lucy knew she was highly intelligent with an astounding memory for detail and an efficiency that bordered on pathological.

Ill be fine, Lucy said, hoping it was true.

The idea of walking into the parking garage alone held little appeal. One of the security guards would have been happy to escort her, but if a hit man was waiting for her there, she might just be dragging the guard into danger.

She shouldnt behave as expected, she decided. She would take the bus. There was a bus stop just a block from her office.

The weather was warm and humid with an insistent, light rain falling, but Lucy felt cold inside as she exited her building. She put up her umbrella, taking the opportunity to glance surreptitiously around to see if she spotted the man in the raincoat. But she saw no one suspicious.

She walked up the block, her sensible low heels tapping against the wet sidewalk. She pretended to window-shop, not wanting to stand at the bus stop too long. When she saw the bus approaching, she hurried to the stop and dashed onboard just in time. The only other people to board with her were a mom with two small children. Thank God.

When she got off at the stop near her Arlington, Virginia, town house, she still saw no one. Maybe shed outmaneuvered him. Or maybe hed given up on her, decided she was no one to worry about. He wouldnt have found anything incriminating in her home. She kept the memory stick with her at all times.