No Perfect Secret Read Online Free

smuggling heroin.”
    “No. No, it’s nothing like that.” It was much worse —for her anyway, but Caburn was relieved that her mind was going down that path. It led to a cascade of possibilities and he was certain she would rotate through each one of them, from robbery to kidnapping by terrorists.
    He offered her a small smile. “Has Nesmith brought you anything interesting lately?”
    Anna looked inward. “No. Nothing.” He’d even forgotten her birthday.
    “What do you think that signifies?”
    That he doesn’t care anymore . “That he’s not going places where he can shop, or he has a quick turnaround. If he comes home and sleeps for seventeen hours straight, I think he’s carrying to Iraq or Afghanistan.”
    “How many bank accounts do you have —if you know?”
    “What?”
    “It’s just a routine question.” He poured cream in his fresh tea, passing on the scotch.
    “Does Kevin get asked that?”
    “Sure. And, as far as our records show, he’s always been open and honest.”
     
    ~~~~
     
    I see.” But she didn’t really. She watched Caburn’s hands. He scooped up the teabag in the spoon and wound the string around it, and placed it on the saucer. He had nice hands, long fingers with well-kept nails and no wedding band. He poured in the half-and-half, then picked up the bottle of scotch. He held the lip over her cup. She nodded and he poured just enough to float on top of her tea. He put the bottle aside. Neither spoke again until they had each taken a few sips. The man was playing her. She found this a little daunting. Sooner or later he was going to have to tell her about Kevin, about the investigation. She decided she would not volunteer one more jot of information until he actually asked a straightforward question.
    “You were telling me about your bank accounts.”
    “We have a joint household account. Then we each have our own personal account. Clara-Alice has her own account, her pension, but we don’t let her pay for anything.”
    “How does that work? Your paychecks, finances, I mean.”
    “Just like yours, or anyone who works for the government. We never see our paychecks. They’re direct-deposited into our personal accounts. Then we transfer funds from our personal accounts to the household account.”
    “But suppose Nesmith writes a check on the account, then you do the same —how do you keep from having overdrafts?”
    Anna looked at him steadily. “You’re either a dinosaur, or you’re playing dumb. We don’t write checks. We use our ATM cards.”
    “I guess I’m a dinosaur. I write checks for my car payment, rent, and cash —whatever.”
    “Well, we don’t . Our mortgage, car payments, utilities are all auto-withdrawn. Even our car insurances.”
    “And this is the only home you own?”
    “You must be joking.”
    “A lot of young married couples have vacation homes.”
    “We’re not so young. I’m thirty-four. Kevin is forty.”
    “And, no children —right?”
    “No —no children.” A deep sadness washed over her face, leaving it drawn, and she looked down at her hands wrapped around the tea cup.
    Uh oh . Caburn thought of a string of expletives that he could not mouth in front of this woman. But he suspected that when she learned the truth about her husband she would be cleft in two. “Does he call you—say from whatever country he’s in, just to check in, see how you’re doing?”
    “No. Never. He leaves his cell and his Palm Pilot in his car. He does often e-mail me from the VIP lounges. That’s where he has to wait until his flights are called—so he uses the courtesy internet to alert me as to when or what time I can expect him home.”
    “Has he email ed you, say in the past three or four days?”
    “No.”
    “Have you ever gone on a dispatch with him? Or met him at the end of run—say in London or Paris?”
    “What? Never!”
    “Well, that wouldn’t be against the law, you know. A courier makes his delivery, and if he doesn’t have