Undercover Vows

by Judi Lind

  She was transported back to another time, when she and Noah had been washing her father’s car. He’d flicked her with a soapy sponge, and she’d retaliated by turning the hose on him, drenching him with icy water.

  She could hear the echo of her teenage voice, squealing with delight as Noah had chased her around the yard. When he’d finally caught her, he’d made her do penance by kissing her until she was weak.

  As a soft shudder of remembered desire overtook her, Keely blinked away the hurt. Stop it! She had to stop torturing herself.

  Did he make her bells chime? Like the carillon at Westminster Cathedral. But if she kept her wits about her, he’d never know.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After Noah showered and changed his own clothes, they decided to have a cocktail by the pool before dinner. Noah ordered a beer for himself and a margarita for Keely.

  When the drinks were served, he smeared lime over the lip of his bottle and proposed a toast. “¡Salud! To your health.”

  She clinked her glass against his and sipped the icy drink. She heard the excited squeal of some children playing in the sand. They had abandoned their sand castles and were looking out to sea. Shading her eyes with the edge of her hand, Keely followed their pointing fingers.

  A school of dolphins frolicked in the surf just offshore. Framed by the pink orb of the setting sun, it was picture-postcard perfect. A paradise for lovers to laze away their evenings.

  As if to remind her that they weren’t lovers—at least not in the real sense—Noah said, “There was one other person I wanted to ask you about.”

  She damped down the disappointment that threatened to ruin her good mood. Back to business. With Noah, it seemed it was always impersonal. Had last night only been “part of the job,” as well? Had he carried their role-playing marriage into bed?

  It hurt too much to consider. Forcing herself to meet his questioning gaze, she smiled brightly. “Who is that?”

  “That other guy I talked to at your father’s. Bob something or other.”

  “You can’t mean Bob Craybill!”

  “That’s him. Why is he above suspicion?”

  “He’s my partner, that’s why.” But already doubt had been planted in her mind. She remembered Bob’s ex-wives, his stiff spousal support payments. Suddenly he seemed all too possible.

  Keely hated herself for how easily Noah lured her into his cynical mind-set. Not everyone was guilty. Not everyone should be suspect

  But who could they safely eliminate?

  THEY DECIDED on a light supper by the pool. Afterward, a trio of street musicians wandered up and serenaded them with soft Mexican love songs.

  Handing the lead crooner a tip, Noah stood. “Let’s take a walk on the beach before we turn in,” he suggested.

  Even as he took her hand, he doubted the wisdom of his suggestion. He’d somehow lost his perspective on this trip. When he’d started out, he’d been certain beyond a doubt that Rosie and Mike Travers were the guilty parties.

  Somewhere along the line, he’d kind of lost sight of his objective. Mexico and Keely had worked their magic on him. Charmed him into believing in goodness and integrity again. He only hoped that when this was all over, Keely would be proven right. Suddenly he didn’t want her father or sister to be guilty of any crime.

  Mostly he didn’t want to be the one to break Keely’s heart if his most dire suspicions came true.

  Noah harbored no illusions; if he was the one who implicated either or both of her family members, Keely would never forgive him, never speak to him again.

  For all he knew, their budding mutual trust could dissolve in the moonlight. But at least they still had tonight. Giving in to the need that threatened to buckle his knees, he pulled her into his arms.

  Keely was startled when Noah suddenly stopped and wrapped her in his embrace. His lips on hers were warm, heavenly, and she wanted the spell he’d cast to last forever.

  For despite their mutual distrust, despite their ten-year separation, despite everything, the truth was simple: she still loved Noah Bannister.

  Their lips parted gently and she leaned against him, staring out into the vast emptiness of the sea. Golden moonlight dappled the softly whooshing water, creating a mood that should have been mystical. Strolling aimlessly on a deserted beach with Noah should have been enough to carry Keely away on a wave of glorious ecstasy.

  But the magical evening was spoiled by the single thought that kept plaguing her. If he’d left so easily before, why should she believe that he’d stick around this time?

  “Noah?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Can we talk?”

  “I thought that’s what we’d been doing.”

  She hesitated, afraid to spoil the gilded, fragile mood. But if they couldn’t bare their innermost feelings and fears to each other, then they had nothing anyway. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out her question before she lost her nerve. “Why did you leave?”

  He said nothing but released her hand and knelt in the sand, running his fingers through the satiny surf. Pointing to a cluster of rocky islets, he said, “Those must be the Coronado Islands. There used to be a lot of native goats that lived on those islands. But the military decided to use the Coronados for detonation tests and killed off all the goats.”

  “Why are you changing the subject?”

  He stood up and handed her a smooth, shiny pebble. “I was like those goats. Living a happy, carefree existence until I was blown out of the water.” He started walking back toward the jumble of rocky crags that lined the dunes.

  Keely didn’t follow. She stood, clutching the lacy maroon shawl around her shoulders as if it could protect her from the pain in her voice. “Noah,” she called into the blustering wind. “Don’t walk away. We have to talk this out.”

  If he heard her, he gave no notice. Finally giving up, she started walking slowly behind him. Whatever had injured him so badly ten years ago that he’d left his home and everyone he loved was still haunting him.

  But it was time to stop running.

  Skipping across the sand, Keely hurried toward him, determined to air out the past once and for all. She caught him just as he reached the rocky incline that led back to the hotel. “Noah, wait!”

  He stopped and turned around to face her. His burnished hair, the soft, warm brown of a tattered boot, was blowing in the wind. Normally he was so perfectly groomed, so immaculate. It was as if a young, wilder Noah had stepped back into her life. She felt like crying with joy.

  Running toward him, she suddenly became aware of another presence in the rocky outcropping. She stopped, static. Raising a hand, she soundlessly pointed to the obscure form.

  As Noah turned to face him, the man stepped out of the shadows and pushed his hand against Noah’s back. “Don’t try anything funny. That’s a gun in your back, Bannister.”

  He was dressed in dark clothing and wore a latex mask in the image of former president Reagan. Yet there was something very familiar about the way he stood, about the heft of his shoulders. And that voice, Keely thought. It sounded so familiar, and yet…it couldn’t be. She didn’t believe her ears. She just wouldn’t accept it.

  “You too, Keely. Step over where I can keep an eye on you.”

  Dreamlike, she stepped closer, but her trembling fingers fluttered at her mouth. There was no mistaking that voice, that bulky build. She’d known this man her entire life, and now he was threatening her. Her head swirled and she thought she would faint as her nightmare suddenly became reality.

  “Chief Kapinski,” she whispered. “Not you.”

  In response, he peeled the mask off and threw it into the rocks. “Keely, you always were too smart for your own good. Now get over here.”

  She moved to Noah’s side. “Wh-what do you want?”

  The chief laughed, a cold mirthless chuckle that chilled her to her core. “The plates, of course. Where are they?”

  “In…in the hotel room.”

  “Let’s
go get them.” He grabbed Keely’s elbow and pulled her beside him, linking his arm through hers. “Feel that?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, too brokenhearted to say more.

  “Bannister,” Kapinski said, “I’ve got a gun on her, so don’t try anything cute when we go into the hotel. I’ve gone too far to let anything stop me. Do we understand each other?”

  Noah’s voice dripped his contempt. “Yeah, Chief, I understand, all right. I have to say I never pegged you to be a slimeball who would sacrifice his own men for a little ready cash.”

  “No,” the chief agreed. “I had you fooled, didn’t I? You figured it was Mike Travers?”

  Noah’s silence was affirmation enough and Keely’s heart ached anew.

  Swallowing to dislodge the heavy lump that had settled in her throat, she said, “Let’s get it over with, shall we?”

  They started the slow walk back to the hotel.

  Keely couldn’t have been more disappointed—more heartsick—if the informant had turned out to be her own father. After all, Lyle Kapinski was her godfather and she couldn’t remember when his bluff presence hadn’t been a warm and loving part of her life.

  Noah’s arm glided around her waist and tilted her against his body as if he felt her pain and were trying to take it upon himself. But Keely couldn’t gain comfort from his gesture. After all, he’d betrayed her once, as well, as deeply and as painfully as Chief Kapinski.

  As their footsteps crunched on the damp sand, Keely’s senses were heightened to every sound, every movement—as if she might never have the ability to feel again.

  Wordlessly, they left the sand and stepped onto the flagstone pathway leading to the hotel. The sweet aroma of the night-blooming jasmine shrubs that lined the walkway added an aberrant note to the tense and frightful quiet.

  “Okay, stop right here,” the chief said as they came up to the door of the hotel. “Keely, come back here and stand beside me.”

  “Now see here, Chief—”

  “Shut up, Bannister. You’re as expendable as she is, so don’t give me an excuse.”

  Keely could feel Noah tense beside her. She knew if she wasn’t part of the equation, if her safety wasn’t utmost in Noah’s mind, he would have tackled the chief here and now. But Kapinski held all the cards and she couldn’t let Noah endanger himself on her account.

  She moved out of his grasp and stood next to the chief. His hand slipped behind her back and she felt a hard cylinder press against her spine. Her mind could barely process the startling realization that a man she’d known and loved all her life now held her at gunpoint.

  “Okay, Bannister. Through the lobby. Nice and easy. Any sudden moves and it’s Keely here who’ll suffer.”

  “Chief,” she pleaded. “You can’t hope to get away with this. Once we get back to the States—”

  “He doesn’t plan on all of us going back,” Noah interrupted. “He’s planning a tragic accident in Mexico for the honeymooners, aren’t you, Chief?”

  “You have a big mouth, Bannister. Now open the door.”

  Noah swung open the heavy glass and they stepped into the hallway. They headed for the lobby, their feet melancholy echoes on the gleaming tile floor.

  As they neared the lobby, the tinkle of muted voices and incongruent laughter greeted them. The chief growled out another warning as they stepped through a brightly painted archway. Other tourists milled around the grand piano in the corner, oblivious to the dreadful tableau in their midst.

  The elevators were in an alcove just off the lobby. Noah pushed the button, and a moment later an elevator pinged as it approached. The door slid open and a rowdy group of college boys poured out.

  “Party hearty, dude!” A large young man wearing a UC Santa Barbara T-shirt aimed a high five at Noah.

  Noah pushed past him without speaking.

  “Hey, whatsa matter, man? Too good to speak to a fellow countryman?”

  Chief Kapinski nudged Keely into the waiting elevator. “Cool it, kid. You’re drunk.”

  The boy slipped his foot between the doors to hold them open. Swiveling his head toward his waiting friends, he said, “Hey, guys—pops here thinks I’m drunk! What do you think?”

  “I think he’s right, Aaron. Come on.”

  The loudmouth wasn’t finished. He leaned into the elevator, poked the chief in the chest and started to continue his harangue.

  For the briefest of moments, Kapinski’s attention was diverted. Noah seized his opportunity. With a bellow, he pushed forward, knocking the chief out of the elevator and into the startled youth weaving in the hallway.

  But the mountain of a man hadn’t been a police officer for thirty-odd years without honing his reaction time. In an instant he whirled around and rushed at Noah.

  Thrashing like rutting bulls, the two men fell to the floor and continued pummeling each other. The youths, stunned sober, backed up and stared.

  Although the chief had bulk and experience on his side, he was no match for Noah’s superior strength and energy. In a short time Noah had bested the older man and turned him over onto his stomach, jerking his wrists behind his back.

  “Go get the hotel security,” he barked at the college boys who were still standing openmouthed. “Move it!” he shouted when they failed to respond.

  Immediately the bully in the UC Santa Barbara shirt bolted for the lobby. He returned moments later, two hotel security guards in tow.

  Their grasp of English was limited, but they understood enough of Noah’s fractured Spanish to believe he and Keely had been assaulted by the brawny older man.

  “Search him. He has a gun,” Noah said.

  “¿Qué?”

  “Gun. Pistola.”

  “Ahh.” Within seconds they hauled the chief up from the floor. Although both men thoroughly searched him, no weapon was found.

  Noah shook his head in bewilderment. “It has to be here. I tell you he had a gun.”

  The two young officers shared a disbelieving glance and ushered the entire group into the lobby.

  They were met by the manager, the head of security and three members of the local police. The police officer in charge, a young man whose brass name tag identified him as Lieutenant Reseda, immediately took charge. The young officer spoke flawless English, evidence of an expensive American education.

  When he heard the accusation that someone had a weapon, Reseda ordered all the men frisked. Again, no weapon was found.

  After a bit of verbal wrangling, the college students were released and Noah, Keely and Kapinski were led into the security office.

  The hotel security force was dismissed after turning over their facilities to Reseda. With the two other local policemen on guard outside the door, Reseda nodded toward chairs and settled himself behind the desk.

  “Now, what seems to be the trouble?” he asked mildly after they were all settled in place.

  Noah hooked a thumb at Kapinski. “For one thing, this guy has a gun hidden on him somewhere.”

  Reseda frowned. “My men already searched his body.”

  “Then search him again. There was no place in that elevator for him to stash a weapon. That gun didn’t evaporate—he still has to be carrying.”

  For the first time since the altercation started, Kapinski spoke. “I don’t have a gun—never did.”

  Keely blinked. “But you said…I mean, I felt it.”

  “May I?” Kapinski pointed to his jacket pocket and directed his question to Reseda.

  “Very carefully, amigo.”

  Holding his sport coat open so the police officer could see what he was doing, Kapinski slowly extracted a large-diameter marking pen. Holding the implement up so that both Keely and Noah could examine it, he said, “This is what I held at your back. Keely, I’d never point a gun at you.”

  Reseda leaned back in the chair. “You Americans certainly keep my job from becoming too tiresome. Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  After identifying himself as a fe
deral agent, Noah provided a rough outline of the operation in Mexico. He took care to leave out their encounter with the Ensenada police and the dead man in their hotel room.

  When Noah had finished, Reseda said, “Exactly where are these alleged counterfeiting plates?”

  Noah hooked a thumb in the direction of the lobby. “Locked in the hotel safe.”

  Reseda nodded. “I’ll want to look at them later. But right now let’s clear up the matter at hand. You say you have no identification to support your claim?”

  “No,” Noah admitted. “Because we were on a covert operation, I didn’t think it would be wise to carry anything that might blow our cover.”

  “I see.” Reseda turned to the chief. “And you are a police official with the San Diego Police Department?”

  “That’s right.” Kapinski flipped a leather wallet holding his badge and identification card onto the desk.

  Reseda examined it carefully and handed the wallet back. He turned to face Keely for the first time. “Miss Travers, is it? You say you are also a member of the San Diego Police Department?”

  “That’s right.”

  “May I see your identification, please?”

  She forced a disarming smile. “I’m afraid I don’t have any with me. Only credit cards.”

  “Oh, yes, the covert operation with Mr. Bannister.”

  “That’s right.”

  Reseda leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. After a moment he spun around and addressed Kapinski. “So, Chief Kapinski, for the moment we’ll leave aside the matter of your not having any jurisdiction in my country and discuss your role in tonight’s events. Is it true that you attempted to steal illegal counterfeiting equipment from Agent Bannister?”

  “Sort of.” He shrugged.

  “Sort of? Could you perhaps explain?”

  Kapinski, who suddenly looked twenty years older, leaned forward and peered around Noah, fastening his gaze on Keely. “Honey, you have to believe I never would have hurt you.”

  “What about Willie Hebert?” Noah demanded. “I don’t suppose you hurt him, either?”