Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
C haz Adams walked toward his truck from the Tim Hortons, his senses tingling. He searched his memory for anything he had said recently that would trigger trouble, but nothing came to mind. Something was going down, and he had no desire to join the party. Chaz had left the superpower side of his life a while ago, and no one was going to drag him back. Too many times, SPAM sent him to a hellhole to clean up or search for weird phenomena, and he always managed to fuck up. As long as he kept his nose clean, nothing would go wrong.
If SPAM was after him again, they sent the greenest agent in existence. The guy was so achingly pretty and hit every one of Chaz’s protective buttons. But nothing was going to happen because Chaz absolutely did not swing toward the gentle lamb of the spectrum.
Somehow this creature found him, in Wiarton of all places, when every single one of April’s retrieval experts never could. It was not a good look for the agency. His cell phone rang as he approached his truck. Sighing, he answered. “Yeah, what?”
“Mr. Adams, I realize you retired a year ago from all field missions, but we have a unique situation that needs to be looked into. It’s possible a member of our office staff has taken it into his head to be a hero. As you’re the only agent in the southern quadrant of Ontario, I thought you might be able to offer some support. Here is the background information we have. We’ve had some reports about SPAM releasing a creature, which looks suspiciously like Bigfoot?—”
“Bigfoot doesn’t live in Ontario. He’s a West Coaster,” Chaz interrupted. He stared at the pavement in consternation. How did April know how to draw him back to the fold? Maybe if he kept interrupting her, she’d become annoyed and hang up, leaving him alone.
“I do know the locations of all unnatural wildlife, Mr. Adams. However, our reports state a Bigfoot has been spotted near Lake… Hurton.”
“Huron. Sorry. Can’t help you. I’m nowhere near the lake.”
“Mr. Adams, please let me finish. You are a creature of habit, and this was the location of a recently purchased property. You cannot tell me you’ve decided to move.” April growled. Chaz grinned. Anything to make April lose her cool was a win in his books.
“Lake Huron is roughly an hour to the west of my home. And it’s quite big.” An hour wasn’t that big of a deal, but Chaz was curious to see how far he could push April. Thank God he'd turned off any tracking apps on his devices.
“It is not. I’m looking at Google Maps right now, and your last known location is fairly close to where the first spot was reported. Do this for me, Mr. Adams. Get a little fishing down at the same time. You’ll still be considered retired. We’d like to nip this in the bud.”
“The thing you’re not getting, April, is I’m no longer part of a team. I threw away my computer. I tossed everything out related to SPAM. I’m no longer your grunt to send willy-nilly,” Chaz snapped. He was done with that world. His mental health had taken a hit by being considered a lesser agent. Sure, his irritating power caused incredible amounts of damage. But it wasn’t his fault. He had no support from the higher-ups. Nothing was going to drag him back in, not even the delicious morsels being dangled in front of him.
“Dammit, I don’t have anyone local who can fix this! The agent I wanted is in the Midwest, and flights to Toronto are few and far between. Goddamnit, if Ezra hadn’t gone off half-cocked, I wouldn’t ask you.” A sign of emotion was a first. Chaz raised his eyebrows at the frustration in April’s voice.
“Whose fault is that? Certainly not mine.” A goofy smile and blatant interest flashed through his head. Chaz glanced at the Tim Hortons and spotted Tall and Goofy sitting on the curb. His bright white dress shirt and crisp black pants gave him away. Yeah, April had fucked up somewhere. Still not worth the trouble.
“We have an office in Toronto, and we’re setting one up in Nipigon. I’m sure those agents could get this done and over with by tomorrow, but I need to see progress now. I realize this isn’t ideal, but please, do this as a favour for me. I will never bother you again.”
Chaz mouthed the words together with April. He pulled the phone away from his ear, opened his notes app, and placed a tick mark under April asking him “one last time.”
“Neither of those locations are local to this part of the province. Ontario is fucking huge, April. Anyway, this is the dumbest mission SPAM has ever sent anyone on. Chasing down Bigfoot? It’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen.” Chaz hung up on April, pleased to do that to her for once. He shoved the phone in his pocket before opening the door to his truck. It had seen better days, but at least no one would attempt to steal it.
Chaz watched Tim Hortons man once more. Was he an agent of SPAM? He couldn’t be. The guy stuck out like a sore thumb. A very pretty sore thumb who happened to glance up at the same moment Chaz sighed. He straightened his back before waving at Chaz. Oh, shit. They'd made eye contact.
The guy awkwardly stood and trotted over with his coffee in hand. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. Chaz arched an eyebrow as his pretty lamb lifted his chin and cleared his throat. “Uh, hi. I didn’t expect to see you again or expect you to wave at me either. I… This is just so weird.”
“What are you doing?” Chaz broke through the man’s rambling. If this was how he spoke, Chaz was going to leave.
“Oh, well. I’m not sure? Honestly, I sat there, thinking about my plan, and I realized maybe it was dumb. I'm totally out of my element here. What was the endgame? Walk up to a guy and say, hey? Are you part of SP?—”
“Oh my God. I didn’t think it was true. April was right,” Chaz blurted out. This man with his pressed trousers and ironed shirt with black-framed glasses was one of April’s office grunts. No way in hell was he going to be attracted to this minion. No. Absolutely not.
“Well.” The man blushed. His whole face turned a splotchy red and pink. Nothing about this should have been attractive, but Chaz was fascinated by the whole package. The man blew out air and tugged on his curly bangs before peeking at Chaz. “She doesn’t know.”
Chaz blinked. Ezra thought April didn't know… this man was tracking down Chaz? April knew everything that went on in SPAM. His statement refused to make sense in his head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, she wasn’t listening to me, and I had a thought. So, after our voice chat this morning, I decided I should do my own reconnaissance, and I took matters into my own hands. I’m going to prove to her I can do this. I can be her counterpart in Canada.” The words shot out fast, tumbling one after another. Chaz wasn’t sure he understood the explosion of words, but he unfortunately got the gist of the man’s folly.
“What’s your name?”
“My name? Oh, Ezra Smith. No relation, of course, to the leader himself. Though, that would be cool. Then April?—”
“Stop talking. Let me think this through.” Chaz massaged his forehead as he considered Ezra’s explanation. The man was completely out of his element. Chaz would be able to send him on the Bigfoot goose chase, and everyone’s problems would be solved. Chaz could continue his retirement, and all would be well. What could go wrong? “You want to impress April?”
“Well, yeah. Everything about her is frickin’ amazing. The stories I’ve found? Woo, nelly! I have oodles and oodles of plot bunny fodder from her missions alone. Why? What are you thinking?” Ezra pushed his glasses up his nose, drawing Chaz’s attention to the big, innocent eyes. No, this was not the time to be entranced. He had to focus on getting away from SPAM and Ezra. Not the random subjects Ezra threw out from left field.
“Plot bunnies?” Chaz already regretted asking. This was the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do. He meant to stay in the dark and not ask questions. Being in the dark was the best place for him. Why would he leave?
Ezra nodded. “Plot bunnies. I don’t do anything with them except possibly write stories or whatever. Like, the mission reports? I’ve read all of them since I was a teen, and they’re a perfect setup for spy… you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Explain to me. Tell me how you managed to get mission debriefings that are supposed to be classified.” Every word out of the man’s mouth drew Chaz in, and he was disgusted at how quickly he fell. Ezra seemed unremarkable and bland. When he talked about his plot bunnies, the enthusiasm ramped up, and he was glowing with joy. It was sexy and wrong. So wrong. This Ezra person was softer than a bunny. No way could Chaz coddle him. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He liked rough and tumble men, not this stringy beanpole, even if he somehow ticked Chaz’s boxes. No. Chaz had to get out of this fascinating conversation before he became even more involved in Ezra’s delusions.
“Well, when I got my first computer in high school, I somehow managed to join these alt-message board things—'cause I was looking for recipes on how to use Spam. And these files came up. Nothing was locked down or anything, so I just… and now here I am.” Ezra ducked his head and shuffled his feet like a chastised child. Chaz blinked. Again, words failed him.
“Shit.” Finally, something. “So, you’ve known who I am this whole time?”
“I guess? I mean, I had a hunch, but all the pictures I could find were from way back. And April’s pretty rigid on privacy rights. She says she doesn’t want her agents' identities compromised, which seems odd, considering how I managed to get into the message boards. They were still unlocked for any Joe to find. I’ve been trying to put them on a secure site, but the servers are ridiculous up here. Anyway, I didn’t expect you to find you at my first stop. I thought you’d be on the bay.” Ezra glanced at Chaz before straightening up. God, the man was tall. He towered over Chaz with his beanpole legs and arms. How he managed to fit in a Corolla shocked Chaz. Stop getting distracted by Ezra’s charm. Chaz had serious plans to get away.
“And yet, you managed to discover my town and find me at Tim Hortons in the middle of nowhere. Explain?” Chaz crossed his arms as he leaned against his truck. Maybe it was his dumbass powers coming into play. Though, the phrase—what could go wrong?—hadn’t passed his lips or his thoughts in a while. Chaz’s skin tightened as the words floated through his brain. This didn’t bode well. Well, his weekend was ruined now. And he’d been doing so well too. It’d been months since anything happened. Chaz had finally learned what peace was.
“Well, my research said you liked living up on the Bruce Peninsula, so I figured some locations out. I’ve always wanted to see Wiarton Willie, so logical starting point. I hadn’t planned on going all the way up to Tobermory.”
“You randomly chose a Tim’s and still found me.” SPAM’s mighty network of useless powers was at work again. Chaz’s own quirk shouldn’t have been in play. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d even thought his kill phrase before Ezra showed up. Maybe? But he knew better. That damned sentence had gotten him shunted to the loser brigade, where he didn’t get to capture bad guys. He could only wipe the zones of any evidence caused by SPAM agents.
“I was hungry and wanted to get my bearings.” Ezra shrugged. “My plan was to talk to you for April and be home by dinner. This was only supposed to be a short visit.”
“You found me, so you can still have dinner now.” Impeccable logic. Chaz approved. The day for Ezra was salvageable. However, Ezra bit his lip and glanced away, which worried Chaz. Nope, this was not the end of Ezra Smith in his life. “What happened?”
“Well, is there something hinky going on, like a mission or a gathering of bad guys? I mean, April told me not to approach you because I don’t have agent clearance.” Ezra softened his voice and kept glancing around the parking lot as though people would be listening to them. Chaz arched his eyebrow. No one gave a shit about two dudes shooting the breeze around an older truck.
“Mission?” Chaz played dumb. The less he knew, the better, and Ezra could go home to Guelph.
“Well, April was trying contact someone about a creature terrorizing hikers and then posting their reactions online, but she said you were unavailable. Then I got a phone call on my way up, telling me I messed up the boss’s mission. Maybe she did send an American, and I threw everything out of whack? I did kinda come here without telling anyone.”
“Jesus, Ezra, we don’t do that kinda cloak and dagger shit.” Ezra’s naivete was so sweet, and the newbie sheen still glistened on his shoulders. God. Chaz had to do the damned mission now. The mere idea of Ezra going off alone gave Chaz the heebie-jeebies. “Okay, let me contact April and get everything sorted out. You… just stay here and look like that.”
“I wanted to impress her, you know. April’s like a goddess. She has everything in regard to SPAM at her fingertips, and I want to be her. My life goal is to be the Canadian April, and I’m gonna do it.”
“Then you have to follow the fucking rules, Ezra. Like the ones April created with your safety in mind?” Chaz dived into his truck and began searching for the SPAM-issued cell phone. He didn’t want to use his personal device. Not when this was official business. Chaz tossed empty coffee cups and donut bags around and scowled as the phone never appeared. It was possible the phone had slid between the seats and console. “Ezra, check the other side.”
No response. Chaz thudded his head against the driver’s seat before returning upright. “Ezra?”
The man was nowhere to be found. Chaz twisted his body around as he searched the parking lot. How could an adult male disappear in three seconds? “Ezra? Where the fuck did you go?”