The Good Spy Dies Twice (Bullseye Book 1) by Mark Hosack

Author:Mark Hosack [Hosack, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction, Espionage, Mystery, Spy, Thriller, Political Thriller
Publisher: Wide Awake Books
Published: 2016-09-13T05:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

Jake’s gaze drifted to Ana Turov’s photograph.

The missing woman’s startled eyes looked right back at him, silently confirming what he now knew.

Somehow, the Kidd had gotten his hands on her missing masterpiece, and he was going to sell it at Blind River’s annual auction.

Had the Kidd killed Claire because she’d found out? And if so, why? How much money could the sale of an obscure and long-dead Soviet artist really bring in? A couple hundred grand?

There was a knock at his door, followed quickly by a familiar voice. “Mr. Boxer? Mr. Boxer, are you awake?”

Summer.

Again.

He didn’t have time for her. His mind was racing, not only because of what he’d just heard, but what he was still hearing. Nick Gold had passed out. With Claire’s earbuds still firmly in place, Jake could hear the lawyer (who’d proven a sterling example of why Jake didn’t want to go to law school) snoring—but the woman with the European accent was still there, and Jake could hear the telltale chime of a computer booting to life, and then the click-clack of fingers on a keyboard. She was on Nick Gold’s laptop. But why? Who was she?

“Mr. Boxer. Dr. Wallace called. He wants me to make sure you’re okay.”

Bullshit.

He’d overheard Summer’s conversation with Christopher Kidd. She was there to make sure that he wasn’t snooping around, which, of course, he was.

“I have a key,” she said, “if you don’t answer, I’m coming in.”

Irritated, Jake pulled the earbuds from his ears and stuffed them, along with Claire’s phone, into his wheelchair’s saddlebag.

“Yeah…sorry. I was in the bathroom. Hang on.”

Jake rolled toward the door but stopped short. The bed was still covered with notes, notes summarizing conversations from numerous bugged rooms, including Christopher Kidd’s office. There was no way he could pick them all up before Summer became suspicious. There were too many, and his back was pulsing with fire again. But it was dark. The sun had set long ago and the only light came from a floor lamp opposite the bed. Maybe she wouldn’t see them?

No.

They were on a heart-shaped bed, a bed that drew Jake’s eye every time he entered the room. There was no way she’d miss them.

“Mr. Boxer,” Summer’s voice, still there, behind that door, “are you feeling okay?”

“Fine,” Jake said. “I’m fine. I’m just…look, this medication is making my stomach go crazy. I had to go, you know, number three, and it’s gonna take a while to get my pants back on. Do you mind coming back in a few minutes?”

“Number three? That sounds bad, but…Mr. Boxer, Dr. Wallace wants me to check up on you. Now.”

“My pants are down, Summer. I just took a terrible shit.”

“It’s no problem. I can wait.”

Of course she could.

“I don’t think you’re listening. I want you to go away. Tell Dr. Wallace I’m fine. I don’t need help, and I don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

Turning her away was dangerous. Surely she’d report back to Christopher Kidd. But what else could he do?

“Okay,” she said finally.

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