by Judi Lind
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Books by Judi Lind
Title Page
Dedication
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Copyright
Keely didn’t mind going undercover—but was this her pretend husband?
The man was disturbingly familiar. He was standing with his back to the room, staring out the window to the harbor below. Yes, there was something familiar about the way he tilted his head, something that caused Keely’s blood to dance in her veins.
He was tall and lean. She could see how the expensive cut of his charcoal suit enhanced his broad, powerful shoulders. His carefully styled hair was the rich color of pecan shells and feathered the top of his collar. This man was sleek and elegant. Powerful and alarming.
Then the stranger turned slowly and pinned Keely with his blue-gray eyes.
Her heart stopped.
It couldn’t be…. Noah Bannister, her old love, had returned to San Diego.
And promptly, Keely reached out and slapped him smartly across the face.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Folks have whispered about it for years: Judi Lind just doesn’t lead a normal life. Her love of travel has taken her all over the world, and she’s lived in both Europe and Mexico. She’s married to a man whose hobbies have included rodeo bull riding and scuba diving. And she has the weirdest friends. There’s Fiesta, the adventurous soul who jumps out of airplanes; Tanya, the belly dancer; and, of course, El Tigre, the tiger tamer and his trio of iguanas.
Is it any wonder her books are filled with exotic locales and wonderful, zany characters? Join her now on a breathless trip where danger stalks Keely and Noah aboard a luxury cruise ship, through deserted back streets and finally, to a moon-drenched beach in Mexico.
Judi Lind would love to hear about her readers’ own adventures. You may write her at: P.O. Box 2751, La Mesa, CA 91943.
Books by Judi Lind
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Undercover Vows
Judi Lind
“This story is about sisters, and mine is the best For Jackie George, with all my love.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Keely Travers—Everyone said her sister was a criminal. Could she clear Rosie’s reputation, and protect herself from the only man who could help her?
Noah Bannister—He’d been sent by Washington to crack the counterfeiting ring. But how could he work with the woman he’d hated for so many years?
Mike Travers—Everyone whispered about his daughters being involved in illegal activities. Was it any wonder there were rumors about him, as well?
Rosie Travers Bannister—She couldn’t save her own reputation, but would her sister lose everything by trying to help?
Lyle Kapinski—The police chief was the godfather to both the Travers girls. Did his bluff exterior hide a darker agenda?
Bob Craybill—Did Keely’s partner have an ulterior reason for asking so many questions about this case?
Dale Cabot—He and Keely had dated briefly. Had their breakup caused him to hate her?
Erma Rodriguez—Erma knew everybody’s business. Did she know too much for her own good?
Maya & Dieter Olstagen—The Swiss couple seemed like average tourists. Why, then, was she often so abrasive?
Beth & Steve Gregg—The young couple were wholesome Americans—mom and apple pie. Or were they?
Willie & Flo Hebert—Their first time away from home. Were the Heberts as naive as they appeared?
Chapter One
Keely Travers slowly climbed out of her car and ran her fingertips through her thick crop of short black hair. Opening the trunk, she picked up a stack of unassembled cardboard cartons and balanced them against her hip. The boxes were heavy but Keely didn’t put them down. She leaned against the car and stared at the tiny frame house that had belonged to her sister, Rosie. At least, it had been her sister’s home until three days ago. The day they found Rosie’s body in a crumpled Mercedes at the bottom of a canyon.
The second shock had been learning that Rosie hadn’t died alone. Another body recovered at the crash site was that of a local loan shark named Marty Sargent. The newspapers hadn’t been subtle in their speculations that Rosie had been entangled in some nefarious scheme with the well-known shyster.
Keely didn’t believe it. She couldn’t accept the possibility that her fun-loving, irrepressible sister had gotten involved in something illegal. Still, she had no answer for the nagging question of exactly why Rosie had been in the car with the loan shark in the first place.
Oh, Rosie, what happened? Keely blinked to dispel the tears that were once again pooling in her eyes. She had to stop it. This wasn’t the time to dwell on the unsavory circumstances of Rosie’s death. Right now she had to be strong. For Pop. And for Rosie’s grieving husband, Todd.
Stiffening her shoulders against a fresh onslaught of grief, Keely tightened her arms around the cartons and took a halting step forward. Don’t think, don’t feel. Just keep moving.
By the time she reached the front door, the tough outer shell she always wore was firmly in place. San Diego PD Detective Keely Travers was once more in control. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she unlocked the door and stepped into the dim interior.
“Here, let me help you with that!” Her brother-in-law, Todd Bannister, rushed into the living room, a white towel draped across his bare shoulders.
“Oh, thanks,” she breathed as she released the clumsy bundle into his arms. “I didn’t expect you to be home—I mean, I….” Her voice trailed off, leaving the half-finished indictment dangling in the air.
Todd had called her the previous evening, crying that every time he saw Rosie’s clothes next to his in the closet, it was like losing her all over again. He’d begged Keely to sort through Rosie’s things and, of course, she’d agreed. She always agreed. Rosie and Todd Bannister had been two of a kind—beautiful, irresponsible adult children with the enviable ability to induce others to clean up after them. Rosie and Todd had lived in a Peter Pan world where neither had ever grown up. And Keely felt as much to blame as anyone for indulging them.
Todd leaned the boxes against the back of the sofa and pulled on a rumpled shirt. Tossing the towel on the arm of a nearby easy chair, he said, “I really appreciate your doing this for me. I, uh, just can’t seem to do anything without Rosie.”
Keely patted his arm. Dear sweet Todd. He’d always been too gentle spirited for the harshness of life.
He pulled his car keys out of his jeans pocket and strode to the still-open front door. Pausing, he turned to face Keely. “It just isn’t right. I mean, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Remember when we were kids? We were all supposed to be together. Me and Rosie, you and Noah. Forever.”
Noah. Forever. The words slammed in her chest like brutal physical blows. “Oh, God, Todd, please don
’t start talking about Noah. Not now.” Keely knew her already-battered emotions couldn’t take another pummeling. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to dredge up the memory of Noah Bannister and his defection. Determined to banish the bitter-sweet recollection before it took hold, Keely stepped to the door and planted her palm against Todd’s back, urging him out the door. “You go on now, I’ll take care of this.”
Planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, he murmured, “Thanks, sis. I’ll be at my mom’s if you need me.”
She stood and watched her brother-in-law stroll down the driveway until he roared off in the beat-up Toyota pickup that had been parked at the curb. With a sigh of relief, she turned back to the empty house.
A stale musty odor permeated the room. If she knew Todd, he probably hadn’t aired the house since the accident. Leaving the door propped open, Keely crossed to the window and drew back the heavy draperies and opened the sash, letting the late-afternoon sunlight filter in. The brightness did little to dispel the gloomy atmosphere.
An unemptied ashtray was overflowing on the coffee table, next to a desiccated, half-eaten pizza. Three days’ newspapers were discarded in front of the sofa.
Grateful for something constructive to occupy her time, Keely rolled back the sleeves of her thin jersey top and started gathering dirty dishes. For the next hour her mind was blissfully numb as she plunged into the housework.
She dusted, vacuumed, scraped dried food off the dishes and scrubbed the kitchen floor. At last there was nothing more to distract her, and Keely knew she had to face the unpleasant task that awaited her. She had to clear Rosie’s things out of the bedroom.
Well, this would be the last thing she could ever do for her sister. Blowing a lock of hair from her eyes, she lugged the awkward cartons into the bedroom. Mindlessly she began boxing her sister’s belongings. First she emptied the dresser, then cleared Rosie’s toiletries off the top. Then she moved to the closet and hauled out Rosie’s incredibly gaudy wardrobe. And shoes! Good grief, how many pairs of shoes could one woman wear?
Rosie and Todd were forever behind in the rent, but apparently they’d had plenty of money for shoes. With a disgusted swipe of her hand, Keely swept a half-dozen shoe boxes into her arms. They wobbled in her grasp and one extremely heavy one tumbled free, spilling a thick white envelope onto the carpet.
Dumping the rest of the shoe boxes onto the bed, Keely knelt down and picked up the envelope. Thinking it might contain bills or tax receipts, she tore open the flap. She felt the blood drain from her face, and her fingertips trembled with a curious, uncertain fear. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, she thought as she sank to the floor.
The envelope contained a voucher from a well-known cruise line for a week-long cruise to Mexico. All the documents were in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Bannister, Rosie and Todd.
But the receipt attached to the travel voucher was made out to Martin Sargent—the loan shark who’d died with her sister.
Biting her lip, Keely clutched the papers to her breast and thought of the implications of her discovery. Rosie and Todd never had any money; they couldn’t afford a Mexican cruise. So where did these vouchers come from? What did they mean? Could the rumors started by the newspaper possibly be right? Oh, God, she hoped not. It would break Pop’s heart.
What was she going to do? She couldn’t put the tickets back in the closet and pretend she’d never found them. But if she turned them in to the authorities, they would be construed as evidence of Rosie’s involvement in some illegal activity. If only poor Rosie were here to defend herself. And what about Todd? Was he also involved?
If only she could share this burden with her father. But more worry was the last thing he needed right now. Although Mike Travers never complained, Keely knew the chemotherapy he was undergoing and the shock of Rosie’s death were taking a severe toll on his strength.
She had to talk this over with someone. Who could she trust to keep her secret? Although her father had taken a medical retirement from the San Diego Police Department over six months ago, Keely knew he kept in close contact with his former colleagues. It would be devastating if he heard about this from someone outside the family.
After pacing the length of the small bedroom for nearly ten minutes, Keely came to her decision. In order not to step on any toes, she’d better start at the top with her father’s best friend, Police Chief Lyle Kapinski.
Taking a deep breath, Keely picked up the bedside phone and dialed the chief’s home number.
“Hi, Chief? Keely Travers here.”
“Keely! I told you never to phone me at home—my wife’s getting suspicious.” He chuckled loudly at his own joke. Martha Kapinski had been like a second mother to the Travers girls.
Forcing a cheery tone, Keely replied, “If I were you, I wouldn’t do anything to provoke Martha, Chief. I’ve heard she swings a mean rolling pin.”
He sighed deeply, imitating a long-suffering husband. “And I have the knots on my head to prove it. So, if you don’t want to have an affair, what can I do for you?” His voice turned somber, as if he’d just remembered about Rosie. “How are you holding up, honey? How’s Mike?”
“You know Dad, he never complains. I haven’t talked with him yet today, but…actually, he’s part of the reason I called you.”
She heard the sharp intake of the chief’s breath. “Mike hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, has he?”
Now that she had the chief on the line, Keely was suddenly unsure about involving him. What had she been thinking of? Lyle Kapinski wasn’t just an old family friend, he was also the chief of police. If she told him about her suspicious find in Rosie’s closet, he’d be forced to launch an investigation. It would kill her father if something unsavory was uncovered about Rosie.
Stalling, Keely said, “Dad seems okay. I don’t want to burden him with anything else. I just don’t understand what was going on with my sister. Why was she involved with a creep like Marty Sargent?”
He hesitated for a long tense moment, then released a deep, rumbling sigh. “I was going to talk to your father tomorrow, but maybe you’re right. I won’t lie to you, honey, things sure don’t look good right now. Matter of fact, I’ve been on the phone most of the afternoon with a G-man in Washington. Seems our boy Sargent is connected to a syndicate back East.”
He paused, and said hesitantly, “The agent heading up the investigation is flying out tonight.”
Twirling the phone cord around her fingertip, Keely stared into space. Now, more than ever, she felt she should keep the cruise tickets to herself. An outside government agent wouldn’t know her sister and would certainly misconstrue the meager “evidence” against her.
No, she decided, no good could come of tarnishing her sister’s reputation beyond repair. “I…I just can’t believe Rosie would do something illegal.”
“Let’s hope you’re right, Keely. Tell you what. Let me make a few more phone calls. Let’s find out all we can on this Sargent character before we go any farther. See what his game was.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?”
“I’ll have something by morning, if I have to put the whole department on overtime. Don’t do anything or say a word to anyone until I talk with you. Got it?”
“All right, Chief. Guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I sure appreciate your help.”
His voice softened. Gone was the hard-nosed police chief, replaced by the kindly man who’d dandled her on his knee when she was a small child. “Try not to worry, honey. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise. When we do, I just know we’re going to clear Rosie’s name.”
Keely felt hot tears forming behind her eyes. She truly hoped he was right.
THE NEXT MORNING, as she crossed the threshold into the squad room, Keely felt tension settle over the room like a damp fog. The room was so quiet she could hear every jagged breath, every surreptitious rattle of paper as her co-workers bent over their desks, focusing on anything except her.
Obviously the rumor of Rosie’s alleged unlawful activities had already filtered through the department to Keely’s colleagues. They were embarrassed for her and, God help her, she was embarrassed for herself. She closed her eyes in a silent prayer that the chief would find something, some fragment of evidence, that would prove Rosie’s involvement with the loan shark had been personal, not criminal.
Keely tossed her purse in her desk drawer and leaned over, sorting through the heaps of papers and file folders on her desk.
Her partner, Bob Craybill, was on the phone, murmuring quietly.
She waited until he finished the call and said, “Hey, Bob. What’s up?”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She shrugged and riffled through a stack of pink message slips. Nothing pressing. Mostly expressions of condolence.
He leaned back in his chair and watched her. Eighteen years on the job had cost him most of his hair and added a heavy network of lines to his face. “You know, this department could probably function if you stayed home with your dad another day or two.”
Keely shook her head forcefully. “No. I need to work.”
He nodded. “No sense arguing with you, partner. You’re as stubborn as your old man. By the way, Chief Kapinski himself phoned about ten minutes ago. Said as soon as you got in to come to his office.”
Keely looked longingly at the coffeemaker as it sputtered out the last of a freshly brewed pot into the carafe. “Guess I’d better head on over there.”
“Guess so. What’s up?” Bob asked, his curiosity showing on his plain features. “He said ASAP twice.”