I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery) by Kate Johnson Page B

I’m done?”
    Luke and Alexa shared a look. “You could,” Alexa said, “or you could just burn it.”
    Better plan. I was liking Alexa a lot.
    “Don’t let anyone see your red pass,” Luke said, “you’re not supposed to have one. Ace still thinks you’re a Passenger Service Agent.”
    “What about the duty managers?”
    “They know about me—at least, they think I’m with Special Branch. They know you’re helping me. They don’t know you’re actually with us.”
    I nodded as if I understood.
    We went up to the terminal in the Vectra. “Seriously,” I asked Luke, “ this is your car?”
    “Ha ha.”
    “Why do you have it?”
    “Why do you think?”
    I raised my palms. “Lost a bet?”
    He gave me a look. “Would you look twice at a Vectra driver?”
    “I wouldn’t look once.”
    “Exactly.”
    “…Oh.” When he put it like that, it was rather sensible. Wasn’t that why the police drove them as unmarked cars?
    We parked up and made our way up through the undercroft to the terminal, Luke briefing me as we went.
    Hark at me, a briefing. Look out, world, I was a real secret agent now.
    “I need you to keep an eye on this guy.” He handed me a grainy photo of someone with a shaved head. “Has a record. We’re just checking him out as a precaution. Lexy hacked into the allocations, he’s on the gate today. Checking in a flight to Frankfurt. Get your arse over there and flirt the information out of him.”
    “Precisely what kind of information are we looking for?” I asked, wondering how far I’d have to take the flirting.
    Luke grinned. “Just where he was when Mansfield was killed. Lexy has it down to somewhere between two and four yesterday morning.”
    Eurgh. So while I was deciding whether to get out of the airport business, Chris was having it decided for him.
    “Any questions?”
    “Just one. Why was Chris in the undercroft in the middle of the night anyway? If he was on the morning before then he wouldn’t be working that night.”
    Luke tapped me on the head. “Smart cookie. We don’t know why he was there. He was supposed to be working middles, nine-to-five.”
    I made a face. We never did middle shifts. “All right for some.”
    “Don’t be bitter. You don’t have to do shifts any more at all, remember? Only when we need you there. Okay, kid—” we’d reached the stairs now, and Luke seemed to be expecting me to go up them, “—race you.”
    “Naff off.” I walked past and pressed the button to the lift.
    “Can’t you even run up a flight of stairs?”
    “That’s about three storeys!”
    “You need to be in good shape.”
    “I’m in plenty good shape,” I said, offended.
    Luke ran his gaze over me and I felt a little hotter.
    “Prove it.”
    I sighed. “I am not racing you up those stairs.”
    “Why not?”
    “You’ll win.”
    “Defeatist.”
    “Yeah, and?”
    “At least walk up them.”
    Eventually I consented to that, although Luke jogged up and taunted me from the top. I glared at him and stalked past.
    “So where are you going?” I asked.
    “Cameras caught one of the girls from Information going down there on the night in question. A Miss Ana Rodriguez.”
    I frowned. “I know her. We went to get our passes together.” I frowned deeper. She was very pretty in a Penelope Cruz sort of way. “Luke, how come you get the tiny little Spanish girl and I get the big scary thug?”
    “He’s not a thug. His file says he’s only six foot.”
    “Oh, tiny.”
    Luke grinned. “He’s shorter than me.”
    “Show off.”
    He laughed. “Got your phone?”
    “Yes. Both of them.” I hefted my Ace bag. “And my other pass. And my warrant card—which, by the way, I have no idea what to do with. And I have my cuffs and defence spray and everything.”
    “Running shoes? Sports bra?”
    “That’s a very personal question.”
    “Don’t flirt too hard. There’s nothing unsexier than a big boulder-holder sports bra.”
    I stuck my tongue out at him