The Model Spy

Chapter 22 - An Unlikely Ally

"The most terrible thing happened to me early this morning," I started as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, lowering my voice.

"You don't say." Dylan tugged at the collar of his shirt. He didn't look at me.

The waiter came back with our coffee, placing it on the table with such force that the hot liquid swished over the sides of the mugs, spilling onto the table.  I unravelled the silk napkin resting on the table and dabbed at the spilt coffee, continuing my story as I cleaned the mess gingerly. "I left my bag at the Moulin Rouge last night. I went to retrieve it and-"

"You're a spy aren't you?" Dylan said accusingly, slamming the table with his palm. More coffee tidal waved over the brim of the mugs. I gasped as it burned my hand.

The man in the brown hat lowered his newspaper. The women stopped their rapid chatter. All of their eyes were on us and then on Zach, who had sprayed his coffee all over the table as he coughed and gasped for breath.

Seizing the moment of distraction, I moved my chair next to Dylan's. "You lied to me this whole time," he said, this time more quietly.

I was stunned speechless for a moment. Was he serious? He was blaming this on me? When I finally regained use of my vocal chords, I struggled to keep my voice quiet and steady. "I lied to you? You lied to me. I know for a fact you murdered Christinne and Elizabeth." I snapped at him. "I'm doing my job in getting you arrested." I banged on the table. "I trusted you," I added sternly. Not only had I trusted him, I made out with him! I felt so dirty!

He played with his hands. "Emma, I really like you-" he started.

"Really?" I said in mock disbelief. "Because normally you give somebody you like flowers that aren't covered in blood," I hissed, "You don't hold a gun to their head like you did this morning."

"I had no choice," he moaned. "They saw I liked you. I tried for so long to keep you away from all of this. If you only knew all of the times I lied for you, stopped them from going after you next!" He startled me by reaching for my hands. I pulled them out of his grip. "How I feel about you...that's all true."

I ignored his attempt at regaining my trust because suddenly all of those lavish words and sweet compliments felt hollow. He didn't mean it, just as he hadn't meant anything he said over the past few days. He was a liar, a better one that I ever could be. I could have learned a lesson or two from him. "Who are they?"

When Dylan didn't answer, I added: "Dylan, it's over. You can either help us or I can arrest you right here in front of everybody." I leaned closer to him, resting my lips by his ear. He tensed. "They will eat you up in prison, spit you out, and do it all over again." I ran my finger down his chest, following the gold buttons adorning his blue jacket. "They will especially love you, a posh British lad in designer glasses."

He swallowed hard and pushed me away with balled fists so roughly I nearly fell from my seat.

"I know you are a spy," he said, staring straight ahead at the rain that pounded the sidewalk. "I saw your badge in your purse, Laura."

He went through my purse too? No one went through a girl's purse. "You know what gave you away? Fingerprints on Christinne's neck and that stupid mask falling off of your face," I snapped. "This isn't a masquerade Dylan."

Suddenly another chair was at Dylan's opposite side.

"You were here the whole time?" Dylan asked as he clutched his chest. Zach leaned in towards him. "Are you a-" Dylan never got to finish his sentence.

Zach's eyes were ablaze. "Yes, and if you say another word, Guantanamo has an extra room ready just for you." Zach sneered. "I'm sure the inmates are waiting for a new friend."