The Enemy's Daughter. Linda Turner
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even as he considered it, he knew the timing wasn’t right. When he’d slipped into the house that morning, he’d had little time to do anything except discover where the kitchen was, and the back stairs. He knew Cookie slept in the house, presumably off the kitchen, but he didn’t know where. If he tried a search tonight, it would be just his luck that he’d stumble across the old cook’s room by mistake, and blow his cover.
Patience, he reminded himself. A good agent didn’t rush the job. There was more than one way to get into the study. With a little help from SPEAR, Lise herself would invite him in. All he had to do was set things in motion.
Pleased with the idea, he slipped through the darkness like a shadow to the far side of the barn. Hidden by the concealing blackness of the night and out of earshot of the house and the bunkhouse, he quickly pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. To the untrained eye, the plastic card he extracted from it looked like nothing more than a credit card that was slightly thicker than normal. Instead, it was a phone that allowed him to keep in touch with SPEAR from anywhere in the world.
All his senses on alert, he peered into the darkness to make sure no one had come looking for him, but the night was quiet and still. Nothing moved, not even the leaves on the trees. Satisfied, he ran his fingers over what appeared to be the numbers of a credit card, activating the phone. A split second later, he was connected to Belinda, his contact with the agency.
Not taking any chances that he might be overheard, he murmured as if to himself, “I wish Mom would call so I’d know how Dad is doing. Lise wouldn’t mind if I got a call on the house phone.”
“Your wish is my command,” Belinda retorted just as quietly. “Expect a call at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Not surprised when she hung up without another word, Steve slipped the fake credit card into his wallet, then headed for the bunkhouse. He’d done all he could do for tonight, and it had taken less than ten seconds. Now all he could do was wait. He might as well get some sleep.
When the phone rang at ten o’clock the following morning, Lise was at her desk in the study writing out the bills she would pay before the roundup started. Expecting a call from her father, she smiled and quickly answered it. “Hi, Dad. I was hoping you’d call this morning.”
For a moment, there was nothing but a surprised silence before a woman finally said hesitantly, “I’m sorry. I obviously have the wrong number. I was looking for Steve Trace. This is his mother. I was told I could reach him at Pear Tree Station.”
“Oh, yes, of course, Mrs. Trace,” Lise said, surprised. “This is the Pear Tree. I’m Lise Meldrum—I manage the station. If you’ll hang on for a minute, I’ll find Steve for you.”
“Thank you, dear,” the older woman said in a voice that seemed to be on the verge of tears. “I hate to put you to all this trouble, but I really need to speak to him about his father. He’s been sick, and I just need to talk to him.”
Lise hated to hear that. “Please, it’s no trouble,” she assured her. “You’re welcome to call here any time. Hang on while I put you on hold. I’ll find Steve as quick as I can.”
The second she put her on hold, she buzzed the equipment shed, where she knew Steve was working on one of the horse trailers that would be used in the roundup. “Hello,” he said on the second ring. “That you, boss lady?”
Since the phone line came straight from the house, she didn’t have to ask how he guessed it was her—Cookie had little reason to call the barn. Normally, she would have reminded him that she didn’t go by the name boss lady, but that seemed trivial now. “Steve,” she said huskily, “your mom called and is on the other line. She needs to talk to you about your dad. If you’ll come up to the house, you can take the call in the study so you won’t be interrupted.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said grimly, and hung up.
He arrived at the front door less than a minute later. Lise had never seen him so somber and subdued. His gray eyes dark with worry and his mouth unsmiling, he greeted her quietly. “Where’s the study?”
“In here,” she said quickly and showed him to the study to the left of the entrance hall. Paneled in dark, rich wood and furnished with man-size furniture that always reminded her of her father, it was one of her favorite rooms in the house. “Take as long as you need.”
She slid the pocket doors shut and never saw the smile that broke across Steve’s face as he turned toward the desk. All right! He was in!
Quickly settling into the big leather chair behind the desk, he reached for the phone. “Hi, Mom. Lise said you needed to talk to me about Dad,” he said, continuing the charade in case someone picked up an extension in another part of the house. “How is he?”
Belinda, as quick on her feet as he, said regretfully, “Not well, dear. Your father’s caught some kind of Turkish virus that the doctors here don’t seem to know anything about. I was hoping maybe you might be able to find out something about it there in Australia, since it’s a different country and everything. Your uncle Wally thought maybe you might try the Internet. Do you know how to do that?”
Searching through the desk drawers as he talked to her, Steve didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. The father Belinda spoke of wasn’t his, but Lise’s. Apparently, Simon was in Turkey, and no one knew why or what kind of trouble he was going to stir up. Uncle Wally—Jonah—was hoping that Steve might find some damning information in the Pear Tree’s computer files.
“I don’t know a lot about the Internet, Mom, or Lise’s computer. I’ve never used it before, but she probably won’t mind. Give me a moment to figure out how it works, and we’ll see what we can come up with.” Knowing that Belinda would understand that he was telling her this was his first opportunity to get in the study, he switched on the computer and quickly began searching the files.
“Damn!”
At his soft curse, Belinda said, “What is it? Bad news?”
“No,” he sighed in disgust. From what he could see, there wasn’t a single file that belonged to Simon. They all appeared to be for the station, though appearances could be deceptive. He’d have to go through every one of them to make sure their contents corresponded with their file names. “I just don’t see anything that would help Dad. Sometimes these things are hard to find, though. I’ll have to do some more checking.”
“I knew you would find a way to help, son,” she said, sighing in relief. “I’ve just been so worried about your father. He’s had quite a fever, and sometimes he feels like the walls are closing in on him. It’s a difficult thing to watch.”
So the SPEAR operatives were closing in on Simon, and he was feeling the heat, Steve thought with a grin. Good. It was no more than the bastard deserved. That wasn’t, however, something he could chance saying aloud. “You know I’ll do whatever I can, Mom, but I don’t know how long it’ll take. We’ve got a roundup starting at the beginning of next week, and everyone’ll be gone for two or three weeks. I’ll try to find something before then, but I can’t make any promises.”
It went without saying that he would try to slip back to the house to search it if he got the chance, and Belinda knew that. “I know you’re busy, honey,” she said. “Don’t jeopardize your job.”
Or your life.
Steve heard the message loud and clear and grinned. “You know me, Mom. I always play it safe.”
When she only snorted, he almost laughed aloud. They both knew nothing could have been further from the truth.
Hesitating outside the closed study doors, Lise told herself she wasn’t eavesdropping when she heard the deep, quiet murmur of Steve’s voice. After all, how could she be? She couldn’t understand a word he was saying. Not that she was trying to, she quickly assured herself. She was just staying close by in case his mother gave him bad news.
And