Keeping one eye on the red directional signal on the dashboard, I weaved through the traffic. I reminded myself that I didn't need to follow too closely; these new tracking devices had twice the range of a standard bug. After all, that's why I'd selected that particular model. With an agent of Scarecrow's caliber, I didn't want to take any chances.
The decision to follow him hadn't been a conscious one. Somehow, after leaving the Q-Bureau, I'd found myself down in supply instead of the parking garage. It didn't take much to convince Leatherneck that I needed the equipment for a covert op. After all, Mrs. King's sincerity was legendary at the Agency. It probably never crossed the quartermaster's mind that I might want the bug for personal reasons.
As it turned out, it was a good thing that I'd bugged his car instead of executing a simple tail. Without it, he would have surely spotted me. So far he'd led me on quite a tour, wending our way in circles through the D.C. streets—up toward the Capitol then back into Georgetown. He crossed the Key Bridge into Virginia, and for a moment I thought he must surely be heading to my house. But, to my dismay, he changed direction, driving back across the Potomac into Maryland. Then north again, finally stopping at a small restaurant bar on the outskirts of Bethesda. Whoever this Gloria was that Lee was meeting, he obviously didn't want to be seen with her in D.C. His obvious avoidance pattern gave me a decidedly uneasy feeling, but, determining that I'd come too far to abandon my plan now, I parked the car and headed inside.
I spied Lee and his "friend" in a dark corner table on the far side of the bar. Luckily, the room was jam-packed, allowing me to mingle in relative anonymity with the other patrons. Ordering a drink for show, I sat on a bar stool and watched my husband. At first I wondered why he'd chosen to sit with his back to the door. After all, one of the first things he'd taught me was to always keep one eye on the crowd. Then I realized that his position did have one advantage. He might not be able to monitor the crowd, but no one could observe him, either.
Taking a chance, I edged closer and slipped into the chair at a bar side table a couple had just vacated.
"Hi, there. Is this seat taken?'
I looked up to see a particularly smarmy man leering down at me. "I'm waiting for someone," I lied, turning my attention back to Lee.
Unfortunately, the guy was the persistent type. "Well, he's a fool to let a beautiful woman like you sit here all alone. Why don't I keep his seat warm until he shows up? A little jealousy might teach him a lesson."
Before I could stop him, the man sat down. Though I wanted nothing more than to eject this slick lothario from my table, I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself. Besides, however distasteful, this idiot was a good cover.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" the man continued, obviously pleased with his worn-out line.
"I don't think so." I shifted uncomfortably as I felt his eyes rake over me. The guy was being more than a little obvious.
"I guess you must have one of those faces then."
"I guess so," I said, tuning out the rest of his tired spiel. Nodding just often enough to appear fascinated, I focused my attention on the table Lee and his friend occupied. Though I could only see the back of my husband's head, I was able to get a clear view of the woman. What I saw was a little disquieting. Why I'd expected this Gloria person to be a buxom blonde with long, flowing hair, I don't know, but that wasn't the case. The woman sitting across from Lee had dark hair and eyes, and a beauty that was understated in its elegance. I felt the oddest feeling of déjà vu; I couldn't help but remember walking into Lee's apartment and finding Leslie O'Connor ensconced there.
I felt a pang of jealousy. A blowsy blonde I could handle, but this striking brunette was another story entirely. Of course, Lee could hardly be held responsible for his contact's looks . . . could he?
Lost in my thoughts, I all but jumped when a felt a clammy hand close over mine. "It's a little stuffy in here," a grating voice said. "Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?"
I shivered. What I'd like to do was a take a hot shower and scrub off the greasy feeling of the man's fingers on my skin, but I pushed the thought, tempting as it was, to the back of my mind. "How about you get me another drink and we'll see," I countered, fixing my face in some semblance of a smile.
Grinning at his apparent success, my would-be date trotted off to the bar. I felt a little guilty for running this low-key peacock dance on such an unsuspecting sap, but with the pick-up lines the guy was using, he probably deserved whatever he got. Besides, Lee was apparently running the same scenario.
At least, I hoped that's what he was doing. I felt something tear at my heart as the stiff lines of Lee's shoulders relaxed in a way they seldom did anymore when he was with me. His infectious laugh drifted across the noisy bar. They looked so comfortable together, as if they'd known each other for years. When Lee stretched his hand across the table to her, entwining their pinky fingers in that same gesture of intimacy he usually reserved for me, it was all I could do to stay rooted in my seat.
Unfortunately, Gloria didn't follow suit. She slithered out of the booth, and in one fluid, cat-like motion, she was at Lee's side. I knew what was coming even before it happened. Still, I struggled to keep my emotions in check as she bent her head and captured my husband's lips in a long, slow kiss. Lee's response was immediate, his hand stroking down her back to her hip. After what seemed an eternity, they released each other, Gloria gifting my husband with a sultry smile. Her manicured nail flashed red as it wiped a smudge of lipstick from his mouth.
I pulled my own colorless nails from my mouth. I'd been chewing on them again, I realized, the way I always did when I was anxious. I really needed to pull myself together. Lee's clandestine meeting couldn't be what it seemed. My husband was obviously behaving like a professional; it was high time I did, too.
My date's sudden reappearance forced me to put my resolution into operation. "Here you go," he said, sliding what looked like a Tom Collins across the table. "Drink up, and we can get out of here."
Before I could reply, I heard Lee laugh again. He turned his head in my direction as his eyes followed Gloria across the bar. "I think I'm hungry," I murmured, whipping the scant bar menu up in front of my face. It wasn't big enough to provide adequate cover, though, and I prayed Lee wouldn't notice me. I needn't have worried; he was far too occupied watching Gloria slink her way into the ladies' room. Unable to watch, I turned away. When I looked back a few seconds later, Lee was gone.
Too late I noted the exit conveniently located by his table. Before I could move to check it out, Gloria returned. The sultry brunette paused just long enough to scan the room before heading toward the same door Lee must have used.
Knowing I needed to do something and fast, I tipped my drink in my admirer's direction. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed as the man jumped to his feet. "That was so clumsy of me."
"Yeah, well, you should be more careful," he ground out. "These slacks were hand made in Hong Kong!"
"I'd be happy to pay the dry cleaning bill," I responded, my eyes on the woman who was even now exiting the back of the bar.
"Never mind, I'll get a damp cloth." Muttering an oath under his breath, the man went in search of a waitress. I didn't hesitate. As soon as he disappeared into the crowd, I made straight for the exit.
Girding myself for a confrontation, I stepped outside. But there was no sign of Lee or his contact—only a stray dog who looked as startled as I felt. Abandoning the overturned garbage can with a howl, the mutt took off into the bushes.
I drew a few deep breaths to still my pounding heart. After half an hour in the smoke-filled bar, the cool breeze felt good, even if the air was somewhat pungent. Still, I had no desire to linger in a deserted alleyway, so I quickly made my way to my car. The episode in the bar had given me a splitting headache, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to go home, pop a couple of aspirin and climb into bed. I'd had more than enough intrigue for one night.