Los Angeles

"Hey, you."

Cee Cee flopped onto my bed, looking a little forlorn. I was standing in front of my closet, trying to pack for the trip to Moscow and not being successful at it. I looked at Cee Cee, recalling that she hadn't said much during dinner. With a small jolt, I realised that I haven't properly talked to her since coming back from Paris. It wasn't intentional, of course, but it didn't mean that I didn't feel guilty about it.

"Hey Cee. What's up?"

"Not much. Perpetually confused about my boyfriend, but what else is new?"

I cringe inwardly, hit with another realisation - I had neglected to continue looking into Connor's shady behaviour in light of the whole ghosts-coming-back thing. Maybe I should sit down, organise this shambles I call my life and write a To Do List.

1. Avoid ghosts.

2. Stop being mean to people at the office, and by people I mean Jesse.

3. Investigate Connor.

4. Eat more greens.

5. Stop watching Cupcake Wars, it's not helping with number 4.

I sat down on the bed next to Cee, who was lying on her stomach, picking at my blanket. "How is Connor?" I asked.

"Fine. Secretive, as usual, but other than that - swell." She sighed.

I had a feeling she wanted to say more, but perhaps she just wasn't ready. I looked at my open closet, then at the pile of clothes I'd thrown haphazardly into the luggage bag. I didn't feel like packing.

It was lame, but yeah, I admit I was a little concerned that in less than 48 hours I might be face-to-face with the Almighty Bitch Maria Espinosa again. It's definitely not in my To Do List, ever. Plus, seeing Cee so down like this, it made me even more guilty having to travel and leave her alone. It wasn't the first time I'd done it, sure, but I just didn't feel good about the trip this time.

"You know what? Screw this!" I said, my mind made up. I stood and tossed whatever it was in my hand into my closet, then shut the doors. "Let's go get a drink. My treat."

Cee looked up, surprised. "But you have to pack."

"I can do that after we come back. You need a pick-me-up, I wouldn't mind a glass of cobble hill myself, so let's go!" I grabbed my purse and headed out of my bedroom, ignoring Cee's protests about having to turn in early for work the next day. But when I reached the front door I saw her rushing to follow me, her coat already on and her purse in her hand, looking considerably perkier than she been ten minutes ago.

The night was cool, a few breezes now and again but comfortable. We made our way to our favourite hangout, The Varnish, a few blocks away from our apartment. A classy little cocktail bar, it wasn't the usual rowdy sports bar or noisy band-of-the-week club, but not too trendy that a few drinks would cause a hole in our pockets.

The dark interior of the bar was pleasantly warm, with chatters coming from people sitting on wooden booths under Depression-era decoration and music coming from the piano in a corner, played by the bar's regular musician. Being a workday, the place was peppered with post-work crowd, men and women in suits and work clothes. We made our way to the bar, and as it wasn't full, took a couple of seats there and ordered our drinks.

As we waited, I casually looked around, mentally filing the exits and testing the atmosphere of the room, just in case. It was something I always do whenever I enter a public place, ingrained in my training and hard to let go.

"You're doing that thing again." Cee said, in a kind of sing song tone.

I turned to her, confused. "What thing?"

"That thing, where you look around, like you're trying to see if your ex is around, or if your loan shark is coming to get you, or if your high school principal is about to give you detention." She laughed, but there was curiosity in her violet eyes. Typical journalist.

"Typical journalist," I said, voicing my thoughts. "I was just looking around, what's wrong with that?"

"Uh huh," Cee sipped her drink, her expression suggesting she didn't believe a word I said.

"Fine. I was looking for a rich old man to be my sugar daddy so I don't have to slave away at the firm until I'm 60. Happy?" I rolled my eyes and took a large gulp of my colourful drink. Wow, that is strong. I should pace myself. Despite our latest truce, Jesse would definitely have my head if I were to turn up all hungover for the trip tomorrow. Although the idea of being on a flight with Mr Serious All Day All Night made me want to down a few bottles first, if I was being honest.

As if she'd read my mind, Cee said, "Right, sugar daddy. Even though you already have that sugar guy at work. That really hot one."

I scoffed. "You haven't even met him! Sugar. Please."

"So why are you blushing?"

"I am not." My face felt hot though.

"You are. You so are!"

"I blushed only because you said I was blushing! If someone said you were blushing, you'd blush! Duh." Yet why did I feel like I was lying to myself.

"Someone's living in denial city!" Cee Cee laughed, her blonde hair shimmering under the lights. I saw the bartender glancing appreciatively at her, and saw my escape route.

"The bartender is checking you out," I whispered, leaning closer to her.

As expected, Cee stopped laughing, her body suddenly ramrod straight. "No, he's not." She never seemed to realise how pretty she was, reacting to male attention with some degrees of denial and self-consciousness. It was like she could only accept men who were attracted to her because of her brains, not her looks.

"He so is. He's cute, too." He wasn't, really. "You should make him your Plan B, your backup to Connor."

At the mention of his name, Cee's shoulders dropped. I mentally chided myself for bringing him up, when I was supposed to make her forget about him. She sighed, for like the tenth time today. "Yeah, I guess I should. I don't know if he'll be my Plan A for long, anyway. Did I tell you I found him snooping on my laptop?"

I nearly spat out my drink. "What? How? What did he say when you saw him?"

Cee Cee shrugged. "He said he only wanted to Google something for his book, and his laptop was updating the software or whatever so he couldn't use it. But when I looked at my laptop later, one of the tabs had my Gmail open and I swear I haven't logged on to my email that day."

But I checked him! And I couldn't find anything incriminating. Well, duh, smarty Suze, if he hasn't done anything but he plans to, you're not going to find anything incriminating on him, are you? And you call yourself a covert agent!

"The funny thing is," Cee continued, "it didn't bother me as much as it would have before. I guess... I just don't feel as strongly about him as I did before."

I didn't know what to say. Well, no, I had a million things to say, but he was still her boyfriend and I didn't want to appear as if I hated him. She still cared for him, I could tell. But it pained me to see her unhappy. I reached out and covered her hand in mine. "Is there anything I could do? You want me to kick his ass? You want me to send dead pigeons to him? Tell me, I'll do it. If I get arrested I won't mention your name, but you'll have to bail me out." I said these in a very sincere voice, and I got the reaction I wanted - Cee Cee laughed. Then she stopped, and had a strange look on her face.

"Actually… well, there is something. You might think this sounds crazy... but would you come with me and spy on him? After you're back from your trip, of course."

My heart dropped at the 'word' spy, but I was more surprised than anything at her request. She saw it, and hurriedly continued, "Look, 'spy' is such an ominous word, I meant we could just follow him to see where he goes, maybe he has another woman, maybe he's dealing drugs, maybe he's a serial killer, you know, the one that's on the loose at Sunset Strip. Please?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Cee Cee, he's not a serial killer or a drug dealer. He's so vanilla! I mean, I'm sorry, but he is."

"It's the quiet ones we should watch out for, you know the drill!" She replied, a determined glint in her eyes that meant she had made up her mind and would go ahead with her plan, with or without me. She even waved off the vanilla comment, which meant she was really serious about this spying on Connor thing. "Come on, Suze, please? It'll be fun! We'll pretend we're Jason Bourne!"

I actually knew someone who was like Jason Bourne, except his name was Aaron Dallas. And let me tell you, his life was nothing to shout about. The thing was – okay, I admit that I had the same idea as hers, only I was planning to do it alone. But looking at Cee Cee, I knew that if I didn't go with her, she would do it by herself. And there was no way I'd let her do that, especially since I had no idea if Connor was after her, or after me.

"But Cee," I said slowly, no longer smiling. I didn't want to say it, but I knew I had to. "What if you don't like what you find?"

Cee Cee stirred her drink, avoiding my eyes. "Then at least I'll have a story to write about. If he's the Sunset Strip killer and we found him, wouldn't that be a scoop!"

She was putting on a brave face. I knew exactly how she felt.

– A. M. A. I –

Moscow

T-minus three hours to Diego's party.

Jesse and I were in the agency's safe house, an apartment near the Kozhukhovskaya subway station situated in the South-Eastern Administrative Okrug (District) of Moscow. Close to the south port, this area was mostly populated by warehouses and spaces for port cargo. There weren't many buildings for businesses or residences, so our operation should be free from intrusions.

After a relatively quiet flight – I wasn't hungover, thank God – we worked silently once we arrived at the safe house, setting up the comms and equipment for tonight. Yesterday, another agent had posed as a caterer and hacked into the electronic systems in Diego's house and the surrounding neighbourhood; the result was that we had total access to the security systems, cameras, alarms and automated gates. The plan was for Jesse to enter the party as an employee of Diego, while I would be monitoring from a van nearby.

The weight of the mission was starting to drag on me, the very idea that in a few hours I'll be looking at Maria again made me nervous – but it also invigorated me, keeping me focused. Jesse didn't make small talk, as if he could sense my state of mind.

Half an hour before we were to leave, Jesse went into the only bathroom in the casually-furnished apartment, carrying a change of clothes. I had my change of clothes in my bag in case I needed to infiltrate the party. In the meantime, I was kitted out in black turtleneck, black cargo pants and black military boots. My hair was in a ponytail, but I made sure to bring a ski cap and a pair of gloves as well. If anyone were to see me they might think I was a burglar; always a better option than being accused of being a spy.

Jesse stepped out in a crisply pressed white shirt, black tuxedo pants and black dress shoes, his hair nicely combed. He picked up a bow tie amongst his stash of clothes on the couch, moved to the mirror placed on the wall besides the front door and started tying the bow tie around his neck.

"Yes, Susannah?"

Oh shit, he caught me staring. He was looking at me through the mirror, his back still to me.

"Uh, nothing," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just - you know, do you need help with the - the bow tie?" Oh my God, shut up Suze, you don't know how to tie a bow tie! What are you doing!

Luckily for me, Jesse shook his head, giving a little smile. "It's alright, I'm good. Thank you for the offer."

I nodded, making sure to arrange my expression as if it wasn't a big deal and I make offers to tie bow ties all the time. God, I need to get a grip. And I need to stop staring at him, it's like I haven't been around men in ages or something. Also my mouth fart needed to stop. What I needed though, was a strong drink, thinking longingly of the sweet glass of cobble hill I had yesterday. Man, I hope Cee Cee was okay.

Shaking myself out of the inappropriate nostalgia trip during a crucial time like this, I started packing the equipment, double checking that I had everything and yes, deliberately making sure that I didn't look at Jesse. Unlike before, the silence between us felt a little awkward but before it got too much, the phone in the apartment rang. I answered as I was the closest to it; it was one of our contacts here who'll be driving Jesse to the party. I, of course, will be driving myself to Diego's house.

"Your ride's here," I informed Jesse, hanging up the phone and still not looking at him. "I'm heading off too." I picked up my bags, looking around to see that I hadn't left anything behind.

"How do I look?"

Well, it'd be rude not to look at him now, would it, since he'd asked? I was heading to the door when he asked, so I paused then turned around.

Jesse was standing there, now with his tuxedo jacket on and the bow tie perfectly tied, his arms spread, palms up in a tada! gesture. He had an amused expression on his face, as if he expected an insult coming out of my mouth very soon. I bit my lip, cursing him for being so good-looking and cursing myself for noticing. It wasn't fair! Suddenly I felt like a slob in my turtleneck and baggy pants. I didn't even have makeup on, save for some powder and lip balm. So should I throw a snarky 'You look passable enough' or a genuine answer? Oh what the hell.

"You look really good. Really the part. I bet you'd fit right in with Diego's employees, based on the pictures we had of his team. Looked the part of the guests too." Wow, way to turn a compliment into something totally boring and factual, Suze.

But Jesse dropped his hands to his side, and if I wasn't mistaken, looked like he might burst out laughing. "An actual compliment from Susannah Simon?"

Hah, that's enough of that. He was now pushing it. "Yeah, sure, and since it's the only one you'll get this decade, I suggest you enjoy it."

He laughed, and I couldn't help but smile too, despite my best attempts to do the opposite. I had to admit, hearing him call me by my full name no longer annoyed me as it used to.

What was happening to me?

We parted ways in the hallway; him to the elevator and me to the stairs which led to the back alley where the van was. We wished each other luck, and then I was alone. For now.

The drive to Pokrovsky Hills where Diego lived took 30 minutes, with light traffic along the way. The setting changed as I moved closer to the city centre; the difference between the rich and the poor clearer as I entered the famed Garden Ring and edged closer to Barrikadnaya where the Hills was located. Deemed 'the secret city', the area was exclusively for the elite crowd; billionaires who had somehow managed to amass a fortune from various businesses - legal or otherwise. Enormous green fences at least 20 feet high topped with security cameras surrounded the clusters of mansions in Pokrovsky Hills, which is filled with forests flanking the roads inside. To enter, you need to be a resident or a guest with your name already on the list.

I parked the van on Bolshaya Nikitskaya Street, 2 minutes away from the green fences of Pokrovsky Hills. The street was not a residential area, instead lined with churches and old, abandoned 19th century buildings. With trees on one side and a church on the other side of the street, I had enough cover for tonight.

Turning off the engine, I made my way to the back of the van. In place of chairs, the space had been converted into a mini surveillance room, not unlike a typical news van. Small televisions, a table and two laptops were on hand, so I began setting up my spying corner for the night while waiting for 8pm, which is when I was supposed to give Jesse a signal.

There were no problems hooking up the security camera feeds from the perimeter fences and from inside Diego's house to my laptop. At 8pm, I switched on the satellite comms in my earpiece and said, "All set up, Mountaineer," using Jesse's codename.

"Good, Freelancer," he replied, his deep voice as usual devoid of the high-pitched qualities in mine. "I'm entering the compound now."

Watching the feed from the comfort of the van, I saw Jesse enter the house. There was a small camera on the button of Jesse's shirt, so I was able to see him walk around and see the room from his point of view. As he walked through the doors after being verified by the security guards, he came upon a huge entrance hall leading into an obscenely large ballroom, lavishly decorated and twinkling with lights and golden furniture. There were a fair few people already inside, looking distinguished in tuxes and gowns. Were they all criminals? Or were they innocents unknowingly fraternising with one? It was difficult to tell.

Jesse seemed to walk around, taking in the staircase leading up to the second floor and various doorways to other parts of the house. I didn't see any signs of Maria or Diego.

Then he turned and my heart jumped. There she was. The back of her head, the arrogant posture, the laughter as she linked her arm with Felix Diego, playing the role of the perfect girlfriend. She was wearing a red backless dress, her dark curls cascading down her back. Her lips and fingernails also red, giving the impression as if she was dripping with blood. So dramatic, I know, but I was allowed to be, okay!

"It's her." I couldn't help saying, my skin crawling. My wrist throbbed - only in my imagination, but it was as if I could feel again the pain where she hit.

"Yes," was all Jesse said, as it would look weird if he were to be seen talking to himself. Obviously.

I watched as the camera moved closer to Diego and Maria. They were talking to the unknown guy in the picture given during our briefing, Paul Slater. As Jesse approached, they stopped talking. Diego actually seemed surprised.

"You're alone," Diego stated, his eyebrows raised. He turned to Slater. "Shouldn't he be with the others?"

Slater gave a smile and again, I had the feeling that he was someone who couldn't be trusted. Of course, the fact that he was working for a notorious criminal should be a clue to his trustworthiness, yet I couldn't help sense he was more than that. He shook Jesse's hand, his blue eyes icy cold despite the fact that he was smiling.

"I told Mr Cazorla to scout the security team as a guest first. Just wanted to see if he could do the job. You could say it was a test." I was slightly surprised to note that Slater sounded American; I had assumed that Diego would only hire within Russia. And did Slater's smile just turned cynical or was I being paranoid? "Well, Mr Cazorla? What can you tell us about Mr Diego's security? Are we safe?"

I listened as Jesse listed a few contentious security points around the house, my eyes on Maria. She was staring at Jesse, as if she was sussing him out. I itched to say something to warn Jesse, but I didn't want to distract him. Besides, he knew how to take care of himself. Diego looked suitably unimpressed once Jesse was done speaking. He whispered something to Slater then said to Jesse, "Well done. Slater will show you around the house."

Both Diego and Maria walked off. I felt torn, not wanting to let her out of my sight and yet I understood that Jesse had to take the tour in order to get a proper idea of the layout and security measures. As Slater gave Jesse the tour and introduced him to other members of the security team, I compared the interior layout of the mansion with the blueprint that I had with me and checked the feed of all the cameras.

"You know, I could've sworn I've seen you before."

I looked up and saw from my laptop screen that the two men were heading back to the massive ballroom. It was Slater who spoke. "Have you been to Italy? A couple of years ago, maybe?"

I had no idea if Jesse had any prior missions in Italy. I realised that there was a lot I did not know about him, which wouldn't be great for us in case of emergency. But the fact that Slater had questioned him made me uncomfortable.

"Unfortunately, not yet. But I would love to go. One day." Jesse answered easily, smiling.

Paul looked at him, that cynical smile (swear I wasn't paranoid!) back on his face. "Ah. Someone else, then. Although it's strange that everyone else who applied for this job withdrew, leaving you as our only candidate." He paused, apparently unwilling to go further but the implication of what he said was clear. He thought Jesse had resorted to dirty ways to get the job.

To his credit, Jesse shrugged it off. "I agree, it is strange. But not everyone is suited to this job like I am."

Paul laughed, as if he found what Jesse said terribly funny. I felt my skin crawling again. He then shrugged too, saying, "I guess you're right. Well, I'll leave you to it. Here's the radio, channel 2 for me and channel 3 for the rest of the team." He lined out Jesse's responsibilities for the night, then left.

After Slater was gone, I said, "Well done."

Jesse answered, cautious. "It's not over yet."

I was about to reply when I heard a sound outside the van. And it wasn't any sound.

It was the sound of a ghost materialising.

I held my breath, telling myself that I had imagined it. There was no way a ghost would appear now, not now. Not ever!

Then I saw a figure standing in front of the van, as if he had appeared out of thin air. As real as a living person but clearly, under the moonlight, glowing like a firefly.

And he was looking straight at me. Shit.

I took some liberties with the locations in Moscow! Pokrovsky Hills is actually a nice neighbourhood mostly populated by expats - no mansions though. But there is a 'secret city' full of billionaire mansions, I just have no idea what it's called!

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter :)

Aina