undercovertrouble_341-1e1.htm

by Undercover Trouble (Wings) (lit)

  Mitch didn’t pay much attention to the lake as he drove the winding trail. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that met him as he rounded a bend near the shoreline. On a thin, stony strip of land between the road and the waves lashing the beach stood what looked like a large drowned rat. "Spooky?" He brought his bike to a skidding stop and whipped off his goggles. "Here, boy!"

  Spooky stared at him for a few seconds without budging, then faced the water and barked excitedly. He shivered and shook himself spraying Mitch, then upped the volume.

  "What’s the matter? Where’s Jen?" He picked up the pup, but he couldn’t control the squirming legs and clawing feet. Frantic to get down, Spooky never took his eyes off the water. Once Mitch set him on the ground, the pup waded out--whimpered, turned circles, then bounced back to shore.

  Mitch scanned the lake but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He leaped up on a rock and searched in the direction of Spooky’s gaze. Something dark bobbed out near the middle. It took only seconds for Mitch to recognize the something as an upturned canoe or kayak.

  He didn’t stop to ponder where the occupants were, but ripped off his boots and leather clothes, then dove into the water. Face down, his strong strokes propelled him within clear viewing range before he raised his head and looked closer. The boat was green--the same shade as Jen’s. "Jen?" he yelled. "Jen!" Not waiting for an answer, he swam the remaining distance forcing his mind not to think about finding her bloated corpse on the surface. He reached the canoe and slammed his hand on the bottom. "Jen!"

  A voice came from the other side. "Mitch?"

  "You okay?" His heart pounded. He couldn’t believe the sense of relief her weak voice brought.

  "Thank God, you’re here! I’ve been h-holding onto this thing for dear life! I kept sliding off!"

  "But you swam at the waterfalls."

  "I c-can’t swim any d-distance. My arms were tired from c-canoeing; I didn’t dare chance those waves and try to swim back."

  "Where’s the bailer? I could probably right the canoe if I pulled on it from one side and turned it over, but it would be full of water. The bailer would get that out so we could make it to shore."

  "I don’t think it was tied in; there’s no sign of it."

  "Damn. The canoe will drift in but that’ll take time. We can make it back together. If you tire, I’ll tow you. Just relax. By staying out here longer we risk hypothermia--you may have it already. And we risk one pup having a heart attack."

  "Spooky made it?"

  "Yes, but he’s water-logged around the gills. Okay, let’s go. Stay close to me."

  Jen held her breath as she left the safety of the canoe. With Mitch beside her watching her every move, she blinded herself from the relentless fury of the waves by keeping her face down. She lifted it only long enough for quick intakes of air and an occasional glance at Mitch. At one point she stopped and treaded water. "Mitch, my arms are tiring, I can’t go much farther."

  "You’re doing fine, Jen. We aren’t far from shore. Kick your legs and make them do the work. I’m right here if you need me." He gritted his teeth and hoped to hell she took comfort from his words, because he was lying. He relaxed when she placed her head down and continued on. He didn’t want to admit he was tiring, too.

  Their journey became a battle of wills--his to sound encouraging, hers to not be a burden. The minutes passed slowly with the struggle, but at last Mitch could see the trees on the shoreline were closer. "Jen, we’re almost there. Spooky’s barking is cheering us on."

  Jen stopped and when she lifted her face clear of the water he saw a feeble grin."

  "I know I can make it now."

  Those words were music to his ears. Once they reached shore, Mitch helped Jen to a rock and wrapped his jacket around her. He followed it up with a comforting hug, then backed off. What the hell am I doing easing the stress of someone that intends to expose me?

  "How long have you been out there?"

  "What time is it, now?"

  "It’s almost eight-thirty."

  "I’ve been out there over an hour. The water wasn’t cold, but my nerves are making my teeth chatter." Without thinking, she murmured, "I’ve still got time."

  "Time for what?"

  "Oh! Er... time to make it to an appointment at ten. There were two men at my cabin. They might still be lurking around."

  "What men?"

  "I noticed one had been at the bar. Why don’t we get the police?"

  "Chances are they’re gone. I’m going to my cottage. You’re not the only one with a gun. I’ve got one in a compartment on my Harley."

  "Mine’s on the bottom of the lake along with my purse and all my IDs." She groaned. "I’ll have to get it all replaced, somehow."

  "You’ll need your ID, but you don’t need a gun. I’m going in."

  "We’re going in on the motorcycle?"

  "You stay here."

  "No! Dammit, I’m cold now and we need to get out of these wet clothes right away. Staying here not knowing what’s happening would be worse."

  "Damn it all, Jen, I don’t need this hassle."

  "Well then, end it by taking me." With no hesitation, Jen stood by Mitch’s motorcycle and waited, a defiant jut to her chin. Spooky looked at her, then at Mitch. Deciding in Jen’s favor, he plopped his bottom at her feet.

  "Ever been on a ‘cycle before?" Mitch asked as he pulled out his gun and checked to confirm it was loaded.

  "No. I don’t have speed demon friends."

  "Okay. Wear my jacket. I don’t want to lose it, and make sure you hold on. Tuck Spooky inside."

  "What about the canoe?" Jen asked as she shoved her arms into Mitch’s jacket.

  "It’ll wash ashore. We’ll get it later."

  She slid onto the seat behind him and clung to his chest with a death grip. He couldn’t breathe. "Hey, ease up."

  "I just know we’re going to crash."

  "Want off?"

  "No!"

  Mitch had come to realize that when Jen made up her mind, she had the moxie to follow through. He grinned. That’s probably what saved her from drowning today. If she were on his side, he’d be the happiest guy alive. His smile quickly faded. The truth was, she was out to get him and that was treachery. How did he deal with that? By getting to Bull first and undercutting her reliability as an ex-girlfriend, that’s how. He still needed to see Bull about the prowlers’ intrusion onto her property. What was Spike trying to prove? Also, he needed to see Don and find out how much damage had been done. His day was going to be busier than he wanted. First things first. He had to take care of any trouble at her cabin.

  As Mitch whizzed by, both scrutinized the building and its property. No vehicle, no men. When he drove into his yard and shut off the engine there was no human sound either. The invaders had cleared out. "You sure you weren’t seeing things?"

  Jen balled up her fists. "You want to see stars?"

  "Oh, all right. I’m going over to check it out. Stay here."

  "I’m coming." She released Spooky from the jacket.

  "It might not be safe."

  "Listen, you drove in here like Rambo on a toot. If they were still around they would’ve shown their presence by now. Get over it. I’m going!"

  "Damn."

  Mitch approached the cabin from the side and peered in the window. Jen stayed behind him and looked over his shoulders. Everything appeared normal. Except for the suitcases in the middle of the floor. "You’re planning on going someplace without saying a word?"

  She didn’t look in his eyes. "All this action around here is more than I can deal with. Of course I’m leaving."

  "Where will you go that you can’t be found by Jake’s friends?"

  "I have plans."

  "You won’t be safe."

  "And I’m safe with you?"

  Mitch turned around and clamped both hands on her shoulders. "There’s something I have to tell you, let’s go inside, and I’ll make it quick."

  "You look like it’s serious
stuff."

  "It is." Mitch hauled her by the arm into her kitchen. "Get out of those wet clothes first."

  "Gladly. I’m sprouting fins."

  When she returned from the bedroom, dressed in a navy skirt and red striped shirt, he pulled out a stool. "Sit."

  She sat.

  He pulled out another stool and faced her. "I’m a cop."

  She gasped.

  "Cat got your tongue?"

  "I don’t believe it."

  He yanked off his wet shirt and grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe himself dry. "Yes, you do. I work undercover. These whiskers and jewelry aren’t the basic me."

  Jen cocked her head to one side, ignoring the physique that could send her into a tailspin. "They were just an act? So you could wheedle into Bull’s confidence?"

  "Look, you just happened to come along at the right time. I’ve no fight with you."

  She started to get up. "You knew who I was from the beginning and you led me into that den of scumbags? Knowing I could be killed on the spot?"

  "Sit down." She sat. He kept his cool. "I found out who you were after we got back here. I checked you out through your license plate number. I’ve been under orders to keep an eye on you. I was also under the gun, so to speak, to kill you for Jake."

  "You ratted to those prowlers who I am?"

  "You know better than that. I think they may be playing their own game. The police have been trying to provide some measure of safety for you and that wasn’t ratting." He placed his hand on her clasped fingers. "There are no charges against you, Jen. But your actions that night are suspicious. Other social workers don’t carry guns. I want to get to the bottom of it, and I think you do, too. Right now I don’t have time. I have to get cleaned up. Things are going on that I have to check out. I want you to stay over at my place until I get back from the city." He slid off his perch and stared down at her with a calming smile. "We’ll talk more after I return. Stay in my cottage, and lock the doors when I leave."

  "I’ll be over in a few minutes. I want to feed Spooky first."

  "Okay. See you shortly." He flung his jacket over his shoulders, picked up his soggy shirt and left.

  Mitch wasn’t long changing out of his soggy apparel. If he hadn’t been so hot to convince Jen of seeing reason, he was sure hypothermia might have set in. He had a lot on his plate. As he slowly breathed in the shower’s steam, his head cleared and organized some of his muddled thoughts. Damn, I wonder if it was wise to tell her I’m a cop. He rotated his body beneath the hot spray, then braced one arm against the wall. The hot stream hit the tired muscles in his back and he groaned in pleasure.

  He’d had a rude awakening today. By suspecting the worst of her, he was as quick as Jen to make assumptions. She continually threw him off balance. No. She couldn’t be planning to get him killed--it would end her fun. After the episode with Jake, she’d more than likely do the job herself. He grinned. What would it be like to have her in his life--permanently?

  There was only one explanation for the fear that clutched at his chest the minute he’d seen the overturned green canoe: he was in love. All these years he’d thrived on excitement from his chosen path, but this new feeling transcended every temporary thrill he’d ever had. He pounded his fist against the wall. He didn’t want to fall in love with someone who not only distrusted him but also thought he was lower than a rat’s ass. Still, Jen provided a unique source of exhilaration, frustration, and satisfaction, all at the same time.

  He had to get to the bottom of his woes or risk his sanity. He couldn’t afford the time to investigate his boss. He had to face him. Mitch jumped out of the shower and into fresh jeans and a white tee shirt. Jen should have been over by now. What was she doing? He wanted to say goodbye and grab a quick kiss. A kiss that would remain in his heart longer than on his lips. He glanced out the window, but there was no sign of her coming through the grove. Time was wasting.

  Mitch cut through Jen’s yard and saw her car wasn’t in its usual spot. A quick glimpse in her kitchen window showed the suitcases were gone, too. She had left and could be anywhere. The best he could do was phone in her license number and hope the police would pick her up. He glanced at his watch. She’d mumbled something about an appointment at ten. It was nine-thirty. He couldn’t dwell on it. He had to go see Don.

  ~ * ~

  As soon as Mitch went to his cottage, Jen knew what she had to do. She waited until he had time to reach there, then loaded the suitcases in the trunk and Spooky in the car. She waited a few more minutes then crept through the trees. She’d have to take a chance that he’d follow through with a shower. She dashed up to the side of his cottage and bending lower than the windows moved to the bathroom wall. And listened. The shower’s hiss brought her a surge of satisfaction.

  The Harley, parked in its usual place, was just out of range should he look outside. The compartment lid lifted easily. He’d forgotten to lock it and hidden beneath a rag lay his gun. She hesitated, then lifted it out. Even though well-versed in handling weapons, she knew this was stealing and therefore committing a crime. Maybe she could consider it as borrowing; she nodded. That lightened the guilt.

  In a matter of minutes she returned to her property and jumped into the car. Spooky hopped from the back seat to the front as she pulled out of the driveway. His front paws shifted onto the console as she took the road at a faster speed than usual. "I’m going to be late, Spooks. Bull might not like that. Well, too bad, he’s not going to like a lot of things about my visit. I can’t get over how quickly he was able to get the documents I need. I won’t be able to get as responsible a job as I had before with only an arts degree, but I’ll get something to tide us over." She reached over and tickled the pup under his chin. Spooky licked her hand as she withdrew it.

  "I had a close call today. We’re lucky Mitch found me. He wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been for you. There’s no way I’m going to give you to Bull. We’re going to the bank. I’m going to try offering him money first, but I think he’s made up his mind that he’ll get you."

  "Yip-yip!"

  Jen entered her bank and looked for a teller who knew her. Since her bankcard was in her purse at the bottom of the lake, she knew there would be an identification difficulty. She spied a girl she knew and stepped up to her wicket.

  "Hi, Jennifer." The teller beamed a friendly greeting.

  "Hi Janie, I’d like to close out my account."

  "Sure thing. Have you got your debit card with you?"

  "No, I left it home. Is that a problem?"

  "No, it’s okay. I can handle it."

  "How much is there?" she whispered.

  "Let’s take a look at the computer. Okay. Six hundred dollars and eighty cents. Are you moving?"

  "Yes, I’m taking another job."

  "You want large bills?"

  "Yes, please.

  The teller pulled the bills from her cash drawer. "Leaving Nova Scotia?" She shuffled them and counted the six into Jen’s hand, then added the change.

  "Yes. I’m in a hurry. Thanks." Jen shoved the money into her jeans, ignored Janie’s puzzled look and returned to the car. She sat for a minute tapping her fingertips on the steering wheel. Mitch’s face appeared in her mind. "Spooky, who’d believe Mitch is a policeman? He was right though. I do make assumptions too quickly. If he is one, he played his part well. Too well. His interrogation should have been a dead giveaway. Guess there’s no limit to what those guys will do when working undercover--even stealing hearts to get to their quarry. We were both used, Spooks."

  Jen was twenty minutes late when she drove into the bar’s parking lot and parked near the side door. She muttered to herself, "I’ll just tell him the truth. I had a hard time finding my spare car keys." The pup passed along a slobbery kiss on her cheek for support. "Sorry, Spooks, you’re not coming in with me." Spooky lowered his head and hopped into the back seat. With what she had to do dominating her mind, she didn’t pay attention to the van and motorcycles parked at the rea
r.

  ~ * ~

  Mitch rode down the tree-lined residential street where his boss lived. The large home sat on a corner in a neighborhood of older, elegant dwellings. Houses would be pricey in this area, Mitch thought as he scanned the manicured lawns. Too pricey for me.

  Don answered the doorbell’s chime. "Mitch? What are you doing here? Aren’t you afraid you’ll be seen? It’s well-known where I live."

  "I think my cover’s blown, so it’s not going to make a helluva lot of difference." Mitch flexed his hands.

  "I was afraid of that. Come in, come in. Marion’s gone shopping." The sergeant stood back to allow Mitch entrance. His face dead serious, he asked "How do you know you’re cover’s been blown?"

  "Prowlers were hanging around Jen’s place. I think they know who she is. It wouldn’t take much brain power to figure out that since we were at the bar together, I’d know her identity and was probably on the police force protecting her."

  "Do you know who clued them in where she was staying?"

  "I’ve got an idea who the snitch is," Mitch said. His eyes narrowed and bored into Don’s. He could barely contain his fury. "I came to discuss it. I knew this was your day off and you’d be home. We can talk better here."

  The hardest part about confronting Don was knowing what he suspected was only conjecture. If he had proof, he’d have Don’s sorry ass hauled to the station where he’d at least have backup. As it was, keeping focused, yet taking it slow with Don’s treachery, might bring out the truth.

  Mitch kept his hands under control in his pockets when he meandered into the front parlor. Steamed beyond belief, the scent of fresh flowers drew him to the big bouquet on the coffee table. He casually sniffed them, then pulled out one hand and ran a finger over the large petal of a burgundy-speckled white lily.

  "Have a seat, Mitch."

  "No. This isn’t a pleasure visit. I’ll stand." He placed his back to the fireplace and again stared Don in the eye. "Maybe you should sit, though."