Page 103 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold
King kept a bunch of cell phones in his workshop. There was a box labeledburners, never used, so it shouldn’t have felt like a risk, the act of picking one up and turning it on and typing in the number that anyone but a trained spy probably would have forgotten by that point.
It was for a service—a number only she and Zoe ever used. During Alex’s first few years with the Agency, there had been messages from her sister every day. Then every week. Alex didn’t remember the last time she’d gotten one. But, then again, she also couldn’t remember the last time she’d left one. So she honestly wasn’t expecting to hear the voice on the line, saying, “You have one new message.”
“Hi. Uh... Is this still the number for Alex?”
Even when Zoe was at her sickest, they’d always had the same general features—they’d alwayslooked liketwins. But they’d always sounded slightly different. Zoe’s voice was brighter, lighter. Zoe sounded like the sun, and Alex closed her eyes and waited for it to warm her.
“I hope so. Anyway... it’s me.”
Alex knew that voice even better than she knew her own. Zoe was constant. Zoe was sure. Zoe was alwaysZoewhile Alex had been a million different people. So it didn’t make any sense that the voice on the other end of the line felt darker. Worried. Different.
Zoe sounded afraid, and the first thing that went through Alex was a shot of terror. She felt like she’d touched a live wire and she was going to burst into flames because Zoe was sick again. Zoe needed surgery. Zoe needed a transplant. Zoe was dying. Zoe was—
Scared.
“So... uh... I’m not exactly sure what’s going on, but I got a call today from a man you work with,” the shaky voice said, and Alex felt her heart ice over.
Kozlov.
But Zoe kept talking, and Alex almost couldn’t believe it when she said, “Mr. Collins says you need my help?”
Collins? At first, Alex couldn’t even place the name. It took her a moment to remember the slick operative with the sly smile and nice suits—an Ivy league pedigree and good connections. He was the kind of guy Kingshouldhave been. A spoiled suit with more ambition than sense. Alex knew him, but only barely. He wasn’t anything to her. He wasn’t anything. But somehow, he’d found out about Zoe.He’d called Zoe.And...
“I’m trying very, very hard not to make aPride & Prejudicejoke right now.” Zoe sounded like she was going to laugh to keep from crying. “So that should tell you that... you’re scaring me, Alex. So if you get this, please call me? Please? If not, well... I guess I’ll see you in Paris.”
The line went quiet and Alex’s blood went cold.
She was safe and sound in Scotland, but her heart was outside her body—it always had been.
And it was on its way to Paris.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
King
“I need clothes.”
Alex had spent the last few days in King’s old sweats and ratty sweaters and she hadn’t minded at all until that moment. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but something had, and whatever it was, King didn’t like it.
“Where are my clothes?” she snapped.
“You mean the wet suit I had to cut you out of because you were in shock? Those clothes?”
She was looking under the bed. “Where are my shoes?”
“Alex?”
“I can’t leave without shoes.”
“Why are you leaving? Where are you going?” She was still frantically searching and then, just as quickly, she gave up and pulled on a pair of his old sneakers. “Alex, what happened?”
“I need thicker socks.” She darted to the dresser and started shoving things around.
“Alex, stop!” It was an order and she froze, but she didn’t turn. He tried to soften his voice. He didn’t want to scare her. “What happened?”
She was facing the mirror, but she didn’t look up. It was like she was afraid to look at him. Like she was afraid to say—“They have my sister.”
Everything made sense in that moment, but he couldn’t let her panic. He had to pull her back. “Okay. But I need you to tell me,what happened?”
