Death Echo

to speak with her alone.”
    She looked at Mac, shrugged, and stepped onto the dock to follow the inspector. As she walked, she quickly organized her thoughts for a more formal interrogation than they had been expecting. Agency training had focused on border crossings and customs inspections because those were the areas that most often tripped up agents and handlers. St. Kilda had already composed a backstory of her relationship with Mac that told the truth whenever possible.
    Emma approved of that. The truth was much easier to remember than an intricate web of lies.
    â€œMiss, uh, Cross,” the inspector began, checking her face against the photo in her passport. “Where do you live?”
    â€œSeattle, Washington,” she said.
    Though she had an address memorized and documented, thanks to St. Kilda, she didn’t offer any more information because Singh hadn’t asked for it.
    Truth and lies, separation and balance.
    Survival.
    â€œWhere are you going in Canada?” he asked quickly, watching her eyes and body language for signs she might be lying.
    â€œI don’t know. It was one of those spontaneous things. We’re just heading north up the Inside Passage for as long as it works for us.”
    â€œWhat is your relationship to”—he checked the other passport in his hand—“Mr. Durand?”
    Emma wanted to make a smart remark about Adam and Eve, but she knew better. “He’s the captain. I’m training to be a first mate.”
    â€œHow long have you known Mr. Durand?”
    She smiled like a woman remembering a satisfying, steamy night. “Not long. We met at a fuel dock in Seattle, liked what we saw, and decided to hook up as long as it lasted.”
    The inspector’s eyes changed. He gave her an up-and-down look that suggested he might enjoy hooking up with her. Then he blinked and his training kicked in.
    â€œAre you bringing any alcohol or firearms with you?” he asked.
    She frowned. “I haven’t seen any, but you’ll have to ask Mac. He’s the owner. I’m just along for the ride.”
    â€œI saw you handling the lines when you arrived at the dock. You seemed too competent for a recent ‘hook up.’”
    â€œMac is a good teacher,” she said with a slow smile. “He doesn’t yell or anything. I’d never even been on a boat this size, but he makes everything easy. All I have to do is listen and follow instructions.”
    Again, the truth…as far as it went.
    â€œWait here,” Singh ordered, handing her passport over.
    He marched down the dock to confront Mac and, undoubtedly, ask the same questions all over again.
    Emma examined her manicure, which was being rapidly deconstructed by handling lines. She didn’t worry about what was happening at the other end of the dock. Mac was a solid partner. In an odd way, they were closer than if they were simply vacation lovers. They clicked under pressure, anticipating one another’s moves like cops in a squad car.
    She shoved her passport into one hip pocket and pulled her cell phone out of the other. She dialed into the St. Kilda secure network. Faroe answered on the first ring.
    â€œHow’s it going?” he asked.
    â€œHey, girlfriend. I told you not to worry. Mac’s one of the good guys. Even if we have to stand on the dock for a few hours while they look for whatever we shouldn’t have on board.”
    â€œGirlfriend?” Faroe made a sound that could have been a laugh. “So the customs dude is still hassling you?”
    â€œYou know Canada’s motto: Good government and plenty of it.”
    â€œGiven that one of you is supposed to be a rich yachtie, you probably won’t get a body cavity search.”
    â€œAw, that’s so sweet,” she said, making sure she was loud enough to be heard at the other end of the dock.
    â€œObviously you’ve never had one,” Faroe retorted.
    â€œWanna compare notes?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “We found out from back-channel sources, not Alara’s, that, among other no-nos, Temuri is an active member of the suitcase nuke trade. Especially in the last three years.”
    â€œGee, where have I heard that before?”
    â€œAnd you didn’t want to go back to hearing about portable nukes. That’s why you quit the Agency.”
    â€œApril Fool on me,” she said, watching Mac and the inspector from the corner of her