A Covert Affair

by Katie Reus

  If Nathan couldn’t work with Karen on a job, Elliott was his second choice and was just as skilled. Since Karen was in Maryland now and Elliott in Miami, it made more sense for Elliott to be the one on this small op. Though Karen was doing a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff as usual.

  “We’re heading straight there—just wanted to check. Listen . . .” He cleared his throat, trying to figure out how to broach the subject without sounding as if he cared for personal reasons. When Burkhart had called Nathan back after listening to Amelia’s conversation—after what felt like a fucking eternity—his boss informed them that Amelia had called a local detective. Burkhart was now convinced she wasn’t involved with kidnapping the women, but unfortunately she’d brought someone else into this whole thing. Which meant low-level damage control. So now Burkhart had called in a favor and was on his way to the detective’s house along with a captain in the Miami PD.

  While Burkhart was handling that, Nathan and Cade needed to pull Amelia into the loop and stop that flow of information before she told anyone else. If the wrong people got wind that a government agency was sniffing around for intel about the missing women, shit could go wrong fast. He’d seen it too many times.

  “What did the conversation between Amelia and that detective sound like?” he continued. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cade glance at him. He ignored his friend, stayed focused on the laptop. The dot that indicated Amelia’s phone was moving along at thirty-five miles per hour not far from where he was. He wished he was with her right now. Knowing someone had rammed her earlier—twice—tied him in knots. It didn’t matter that he’d never gotten the answers he wanted from her, not even after putting his pride aside and basically begging her to talk to him; the thought of someone trying to hurt her shredded him.

  “Friendly enough. Possibly flirty, but they sounded like they’re friends more than anything. She was definitely concerned about the whole situation.”

  “Thanks.” Even though it made him feel stalkerish, he was going to listen to the recording later. For the op, he told himself, unable to believe the lie for a second. After years of compartmentalizing his thoughts of her, now he felt consumed to know everything about her. And not for work reasons.

  “This is it,” Cade murmured, turning down a dead-end street. “How do you want to do this?”

  This wasn’t part of their original op. Hell, even talking to Amelia tonight hadn’t been part of their plan, so right now they were making decisions on the fly. “Stop a few houses down from her place. I’ll get out, wait for her at her house while you park a street over.” He’d wait on the porch, not break in. Though he could if he wanted. B & E skills were something he’d gained long before joining the NSA. Amelia had been his teacher.

  But he didn’t want to piss her off any more than this early-morning visit was sure to do. He remembered what a temper Amelia had and figured when she found out he’d been at Bayside at the same time she was there and was part of an operation that originally suspected her involvement in kidnapping and possible sex trafficking, she’d be pissed. He slid his earpiece in. “I’ll keep my recorder on the whole time,” he continued when Cade didn’t respond.

  Satisfied, his partner nodded.

  The street was upper middle class, the houses mostly two-story, with actual space between the yards. From the financials he’d read on Amelia, she did well for herself, though it had taken years to get where she was and to afford her home. She’d always sworn she’d make something of herself, vowing to never end up like her mother.

  It made him so fucking happy she’d done just that. No matter how things had ended between them, that she’d pretty much ripped his heart out, he couldn’t help being proud of her. The restaurant industry had one of the highest failure rates, so her success was even more impressive.

  Shelving those thoughts, he slid from the vehicle, quiet as a ghost, as soon as Cade stopped the SUV. They couldn’t account for everything, like nosy neighbors, but at this early hour, most people were locked in tight for the evening. Especially in a neighborhood like this.

  Moving down the sidewalk quickly, he stuck to the shadows. He’d changed out of his tux and was wearing black cargo pants and a black long-sleeved T-shirt. He was armed, as he usually was, but his weapon was holstered and tucked away.

  “Looks like she’s almost here,” Cade said through his earpiece. “Should be turning down her street in less than a minute. I’m pulling out now. There’s a park two blocks over I’m going to wait at.”

  “Sounds good,” Nathan said quietly. He didn’t need backup for Amelia and the truth was, he wanted time alone with her. Even if it wasn’t technically private, considering that Elliott and Cade would be able to hear their conversation. God, he just wanted to see her again. Seeing her and holding her after so long was a combination of heaven and torture.

  When he reached her house, he strode up the stone walkway to her front door. A white slatted enclosure wrapped around the porch. There were two rocking chairs on it with a small table in between.

  “She’s turning now.” Cade’s voice was quiet.

  “I see her,” Nathan said as the flash of headlights illuminated her street. He backed against one of the walls of the porch, using a giant potted plant as part of his cover. When they talked he was going to tell her that she needed sensor-activated lights. Anyone could just wait in the dark here, lurking and ready to attack. Kind of like him, except he wouldn’t be attacking her. Even the thought made him ill.

  The purr of her engine was soft as she pulled into the driveway. From his angle against the far wall, he couldn’t see her, but he heard the garage door opening. Once he heard her pull forward, he stepped out from his hiding spot and strode back down the walkway, stopping at the back of her vehicle. He immediately noted the damage to her Jeep and planned to ask her who she thought could have done this. Whoever it was, they weren’t going to get away with it.

  He knew just showing up like this would likely scare her, so he knocked on the back window of the Jeep—which would probably scare her too, but there was no way around it. There was movement in the front of her vehicle, but it was too dark to see much. He backed up, giving her enough space to see him in the moonlight—and hoped she didn’t close the garage door on him. “Amelia, it’s Nathan,” he called out, knowing she’d hear him.

  The driver’s-side door remained closed.

  He stepped forward again. “Amelia.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, stepping out silently from the opposite side of the vehicle in that hip-hugging black dress that showcased every delicious line and curve.

  The sight of her made his mouth water. The raw reaction to simply seeing her annoyed him. She moved like a ghost, as quiet as any trained operative he’d worked with. He noticed she’d taken her shoes off too. A throwback skill to when she was a kid and wanted to be invisible at her home. The thought made his stomach twist.

  “You keep your dome light turned off?” he asked. It should have turned on when she slid from the passenger-side door.

  She blinked in surprise. “You show up at my house unannounced—when you shouldn’t even have my address—at one o’clock in the morning, and that’s what you want to ask me?”

  He lifted his shoulders casually, keeping his game face on. This was his first job since his injury. He’d overlooked her in the files and didn’t have room for another mistake. He’d had the best training in the world, first in the Corps, then with the NSA. He couldn’t afford to be sloppy. Ever. It was fucking weak.

  For now he ignored her question, wanting to get her inside and out of view of neighbors or anyone else. They hadn’t done enough recon of her place to know if Mercado was watching her. That was doubtful, but just in case, Nathan wanted to cover all his bases and keep her safe. “We need to talk.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, temper flaring in her eyes. The moonlight gave him enough visibility to see her, but her eyes looked dark, not the vivid blue he knew t
hem to be. “You’ve got my number,” she said, her voice testy.

  “I work with Maria’s husband.” He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the quiet street. “Can we talk inside where it’s private?”

  She let out a sound of frustration—as if she wanted to strangle him—but nodded and turned away from him. He followed her into the garage, stopping when she grabbed her small purse and shoes from the vehicle. Without looking at him, she pressed the button to close the garage, then let herself into what turned out to be a mudroom. An insistent beeping started and she moved directly to the keypad on the nearest wall.

  She looked at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Turn around.”

  Doing as she ordered, he shut and locked the door that connected to the garage while she disabled her alarm system. She still didn’t speak to him as she opened another connecting door. This one entered into her sleek, modern kitchen.

  She flipped on a light, dropping her shoes haphazardly as she made her way to a clearly custom-made wine rack. The crosshatched rack was above a granite countertop where a laptop and a stack of papers sat. Below the countertop was a small refrigerator for chilled wines. She plucked a bottle of red from the higher rack and took down a wide-mouthed glass.

  “You want a glass?” she asked without turning around.

  “I’m good.”

  She snorted. “Sit while I open this. I can’t think with you hovering.”

  Sighing, he took a seat at one of the ladder-back chairs at the center island. He wanted to talk to her but guessed that she needed to get her bearings. He could see it in the way her hands slightly trembled as she popped the cork—and he hated that he’d made her feel this way. Still, he knew on a certain level, she trusted him at least somewhat.

  Otherwise she wouldn’t have let him in the house and wouldn’t have turned her back to him. “Amelia, I’m sorry to just show up like this.”

  Glass in hand, she turned to face him but didn’t cross over to where he sat. Just watched him warily. “Talk. Now.”

  He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and was surprised when her gaze tracked the movement with just a bit of undeniable . . . lust. It sent a jolt of awareness through him. He’d never stopped wanting her. Years and miles of separation hadn’t seemed to make a difference. The woman had gotten under his skin and he’d never been able to get over her. From the moment they met, everything about her had been real. No pretenses and no games. Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to her.

  “What I’m about to tell you is classified. Maria’s husband and I are working on a covert op right now. Everything Maria showed you is true; women in Miami are going missing and we’re trying to find out why they’re being taken and by whom. We need to stop this operation.”

  “Maria works for the government too?” Amelia’s voice held more than a hint of sarcasm.

  “No. We just thought it might be easier for her to talk to you.”

  “Why talk to me at all? From what she showed me, at least fifty women are missing and I don’t know the majority of them. What could she possibly . . .” She set her wineglass on the counter as her brow furrowed. “You guys think I’m involved?”

  He shook his head. “No. We know about your call to Detective Sinclair—”

  She shoved away from the counter and crossed over to the island, her movements jerky. The granite countertop separated them, but it did nothing to hide her sparking temper. “You’re listening to my freaking phone calls?”

  He nodded once. He’d be as honest with her as he could. After she’d made that phone call to Sinclair, Burkhart gave Nathan operational latitude with Amelia. He could tell her as much or as little as he thought necessary so she’d keep quiet about this and . . . fuck, he didn’t even want to think about the other reason. Burkhart had made it clear he’d use Amelia to get to Mercado if she was open to it. Nathan didn’t want her involved at all, though. “Yes. Iker Mercado is at the top of our suspect list right now, and when you showed up as his date, you moved up on our list too.”

  Her mouth opened the slightest fraction, her expression one of complete incredulity. “Wait, I was on the list to begin with? As someone who could actually kidnap women for . . . whatever purposes?”

  “You were a person of interest because of your connection to some of them—though I didn’t realize it was you until I saw you at the auction. You changed your last name.” He could guess why too.

  “So now you’re convinced I’m not involved?” Apparently she was going to ignore his statement about her last name.

  “Yes.”

  She seemed to relax at his words before she asked, “You’re with the FBI?”

  He pulled out a badge and ID and slid them over the counter to her. The credentials themselves were real, but his information wasn’t. He couldn’t tell her that he worked for the NSA. Not yet. Maybe never. So the FBI it was.

  She looked hard at them, then shrugged. “These could be fake.”

  “They could be,” he agreed.

  Amelia watched him for a long moment, her vivid eyes searching for something. Finally she sighed. “What do you want from me, Nathan? Are you worried I’ll blow your cover with Iker? I don’t even plan on seeing him after tonight—last night.” She shook her head, looking suddenly exhausted as she turned back to the other counter and picked up her wine.

  “Will you sit next to me?” he asked softly, wanting her close. He hated this mistrust between them.

  Surprise flickered in her eyes, but she nodded and rounded the counter. Her dress barely rustled as she sat next to him and turned the chair toward him. Watching him with eyes that missed nothing, she was silent, waiting for him to continue.

  “My team and I need to know everything you know about Mercado.” Because fuck what Burkhart had told Nathan, he didn’t want to bring her deeper into this. Not if he didn’t need to.

  “It’s not much. He’s in antiquities and a really respected businessman. He owns a ton of property in Miami; he’s got a grown daughter; he never remarried after his wife died . . . uh, I don’t know. We’ve literally been on one date, last night. The majority of what I found out about him is from Google. If you’re really with the FBI, you’re going to know more than me. Why do you think he’s involved in kidnapping women?”

  Now was the tricky part. “Do you remember hearing about a man named Paul Hill last year?” She’d have had to be completely cut off from the media not to.

  It took less than a second for the name to register. Her lips twisted in clear disgust. “Yeah, I remember the news reports. That whole thing is revolting. They’re still arresting people involved, right?”

  He nodded, pushing back the rage that surfaced whenever he thought of that scum. Dead scum, thankfully. Hill had sold women and children to the highest bidder as if they were property, had run a huge international sex slave ring with a base here in Miami. The city was still recovering from a terrorist bombing that was a direct effect of his crimes. “Yeah. Some of the people involved—buyers—fled the country, but various branches of law enforcement are slowly hunting them down.” He hoped they got them all, but he knew in the end, there were still sick bastards out there living their lives, hurting innocent people.

  “What does that have to do with Iker or the missing women?”

  “Maybe nothing. But my team is determined not to let another person take Hill’s place.”

  “You think Iker is involved in the slave trade?” Her face pale, she idly traced the stem of her wineglass.

  “We don’t know, but he’s involved in more than just antiquities. He’s never been convicted, but he’s been brought in for questioning multiple times for suspected smuggling.”

  “Of people?”

  He shook his head. “No, but he’s been linked to smuggling in antiquities taken during various wars in addition to rhino and ivory smuggling.” It was big money and very illegal. Not to mention fucking cruel. “We’ve only got rumors at this point, but if someone is involved in taking w
omen in Miami, chances are high Mercado is involved or knows about it. Which is why I want you to stay away from him.”

  Amelia didn’t respond, just took a long sip of her wine as she seemed to digest what he’d told her. As she did, Cade’s voice came over his earpiece. “I’m at the front door. Burkhart wants me to talk to her.”

  Damn it, he wanted more time with Amelia alone and he had a bad feeling he knew exactly what Burkhart wanted Cade to tell Amelia. “Cade’s at the front door,” he said to her.

  She looked at him in surprise. “How—”

  He turned to the side so she could see his small earpiece.

  “Other people are listening to this conversation?” Her voice went icy now.

  He nodded, hating everything about this situation.

  Her jaw clenched once, but she slid off the chair. “I’ll let him in, then.”

  He moved quick, sidestepping her so he could check to see that it was Cade. Overprotective? Yeah, he didn’t care. When he saw his teammate through the peephole, he opened the door.

  Dressed much the same as Nathan, Cade stepped inside and nodded at Amelia, looking almost apologetic. “I’m sorry we—”

  “Can you just tell me what you came here to say?” Her question could have been construed as rude, but Nathan heard the exhaustion in her voice, could see it on her face. This was definitely the Amelia he remembered, getting right to the point.

  Cade let out a sigh of relief, clearly glad not to have to make any small talk. “Our team has run multiple diagnostics of Mercado’s personal security. We can’t infiltrate his online system because—why isn’t important. We need someone inside his house and close enough to his computer to clone all his information. We could try breaching the place, but if you get yourself invited there as his date, it will be clean and easy to get all the information we need and you won’t have to do a damn thing.”

  Surprise flickered in Amelia’s gaze, but Nathan turned away from her, pinning a glare on Cade. “No fucking way.”

  Cade’s expression remained neutral. “Boss said if she’s willing, we’re bringing her in. It’s a onetime thing and she’ll be compensated. And,” he said, turning to her, “you’ll have to sign some nondisclosure papers, regardless.”