Undercover Holiday Fiancée

by Maggie K. Black

  Chloe pulled her hand from his grasp. Then she slid a finger over his lips and firmly pushed them shut, as if to say she didn’t need his help.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Chloe said. “The roads are terrible. Let’s come up with somewhere private enough we can talk alone, but still safe enough it’ll be easy for you to leave if you’re not happy and want to go.”

  A bang sounded on the phone. It was like a door opening so quickly it smashed back against a wall. Then he heard footsteps echoing down a hallway.

  “Come to the sports center,” Trilly said quickly. “Tonight, during the hockey game. I’ll meet you in the alley out back, by the garbage cans, during the third period.”

  “Third period by the garbage cans,” Chloe repeated. “I’ll be there.”

  The sound of footsteps grew louder.

  “You can’t talk to anyone about this and you can’t let anybody see you at the game, okay?” Trilly said. “My guy has eyes everywhere. If he sees you around, he’ll know you’re a detective and get suspicious about why you’re hanging around. If I see you around town, anywhere, talking to anyone, I’m bailing.”

  Chloe closed her eyes for a long moment. A deal like that would be hard to talk her way out of. Trent watched as her lips moved in what looked like silent prayer. Then her eyes opened again and he felt her fingers brush against his skin as she pulled the ring from his grasp.

  “Well, I’m going to be at Trillium College, around town and at the hockey game with Coach Henri, today. I’ll be everywhere. Your guy, whoever he is, will see me talking to all kinds of people. I might even talk to your guy, considering I don’t know who he is and Coach might introduce me.”

  She slid the ring over the very tip of her third finger on her left hand and let it hover there.

  What was she doing? A weird, unsettled feeling filled the pit of his stomach, like she’d grabbed his hand just as she was about to leap off a cliff.

  “You can’t talk to him,” Trilly said. “You can’t talk to anyone!”

  “It will look a lot more suspicious if I don’t.” Chloe still didn’t meet his eye. Instead, as Trent watched, she slid the ring firmly and smoothly onto her finger. “I’m in town today specifically to spend time with Coach Henri. So I’ll be going everywhere he goes and talking to anyone he introduces me to. He’s my fiancé.”

  * * *

  Chloe held her breath and waited. It was a calculated risk. Refusing to meet Trilly at some remote and unsafe location had been a no-brainer. Only a total amateur would agree to something like that. But announcing she was going to be seen around town with Trent all day talking to whoever she pleased had the potential to be a deal-breaker. Chloe closed her eyes and prayed. Silence dragged on the phone, punctuated by the sound of footsteps coming down a hallway.

  “Fine,” Trilly said. “Whatever. But you come meet me alone and don’t tell anyone about any of this. If I think something’s up, I’m bailing.”

  “Okay.” The line went dead. Chloe let out a long breath then set the phone on the table and stood. “I’m guessing you caught most of that? We have an informant who gave us a fake name and claims to know where the payara is coming from.”

  Trent pushed himself to standing. “You made a snap decision about my cover without consulting me.”

  “It was your plan!” Her hand waved through the air. The ring felt heavy on her finger. “I thought this is what you’d wanted.”

  “I thought this is what you didn’t want!” he countered.

  “I needed to come up with something quickly. Your idea was solid. So I went for it.”

  He ran his hand over the back of his neck. Why was he being so difficult about this? Sure, she hadn’t liked the idea of pretending to be Trent’s fiancée. But that didn’t exactly matter now. She’d been attacked in her own home and she had no way of knowing if the attacker would try again. Someone had contacted her claiming to have information about payara. Her life had tumbled into this chaos whether she wanted it to or not. The least she could do was take charge of how it all landed.

  “I want you to tell me why you said no before,” Trent said. “Tell me, point-blank, why you didn’t like this cover plan.”

  She turned to the window and watched the mixture of early morning sun and snow flurries outside. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “It does to me, because this is my case and I’m the one who has to call my boss to explain what’s happening and make an official request for your presence on it. Yesterday, I was looking at an entire day to sort that. Now, I’ve got an hour or less. Not to mention the fact that I’ve got to prep a partner who made it very clear yesterday that she didn’t believe in this assignment and who I have reason to believe doesn’t have her head in the game.”

  She could feel a soft but determined growl building in the back of her throat. “Oh, my head is plenty in the game.”

  “Then prove it to me,” he said. “Convince me that this cover you’ve now committed us to is the way to go.”

  “Prove it to you?” she asked. “What is this, high school?”

  “No, this is work,” he said. Now the growl in her voice was overtaken by the deep rumble in his. “This is the superior officer on a hastily assembled, joint RCMP/OPP operation, calling rank and asking my colleague to take two minutes to tell me why she objected to my plan, so that everything is aired before we begin.”

  “Okay, then, Sir, if that’s the way it’s going to be.” She spun back, feeling her thick, long mane settle around her shoulders. His eyebrows shot up into his shaggy hairline, as if her use of the word Sir had prompted something between alarm and panic. She crossed her arms. “Professionally speaking, I think your plan that I go undercover as Coach Henri’s fiancée makes perfect sense. It creates a very easy in-and-out scenario with the minimum amount of suspicion raised. The fact that you already used a photo of me for your cover is a huge bonus. So, professionally speaking, I have no problem at all with the plan. It’s a good plan. Sir.”

  This time, the second “Sir” made his lips turn into a wry smile. “But you shot down the assignment when I first pitched the mission, Detective.”

  “For personal reasons, not professional ones. You’re not my supervising officer, we’re not in the same branch of law enforcement and I’m on holiday. Turning down a suggested joint mission for personal reasons is completely acceptable.”

  Was it her imagination or did he just chuckle under his breath? “What were those personal reasons?”

  “With all due respect, I don’t have to tell you.”

  “I know you don’t, but I’m asking you to, anyway. Chloe, we’re friends. Or at least I think we are. I genuinely do care about you.” There was something so raw in his voice that she felt something catch in her own throat. “Is there something I’m not getting about pretending to be my fiancée?”

  She took a deep breath. “Honestly, I don’t like playing the girlfriend role. I never do. You always get to be the strong man. I get to be the arm candy, the doting admirer, the damsel in distress or the pretty little thing under your shoulder.”

  “Except in this case I’m the mild-mannered hockey coach and you’re the daring detective,” he said.

  A slight smile crossed her lips. Only Trent could manage to be adorable and frustrating at the same time.

  “True,” she said. “But, still, you command respect just by walking into a room. People always look at you and see a big, handsome guy, oozing with authority. They look at you and see a leader. Nobody thinks you need to be rescued. You do the rescuing.

  “All too often, people look at me and underestimate me because I’m a woman. I’m not taken as seriously, and that seems to happen even more when it’s my job to play a girlfriend role. It pushes my buttons.

  “Growing up, my father used my sister and me like props to bolster
his image. I hated it. Do I see the potential, as a detective, in pretending to be Coach Henri’s fiancée? Absolutely. But that doesn’t mean I’m always going to like it.” She took another deep breath and let it out again. “Sir.”

  “If you call me ‘sir’ one more time, I’m going back to calling you Lady Cop.” Trent ran his hand through his shaggy hair. “You’re some piece of work, you know that? I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re a damsel, a sidekick or a prop. You know what people are going to think when we walk in a room together? They’re going to be amazed a bozo like me could ever be with a woman like you.”

  She felt herself blush and turned her face back to the window hoping that would hide it. It was his charm coming out, nothing more. Trent was a charming guy. He’d probably inadvertently left a trail of broken hearts all over past undercover missions.

  “I promise you, the fact that you’re posing as my fiancée won’t have any impact on the fact that I see you as an equal partner,” he said. “I won’t start acting like you’re my property. I won’t sideline you, take over your conversations or fight your fights for you, unless you ask me to. I won’t even try to rescue you unless you’re in actual danger. I promise.”

  That helped. She let out a long breath. “Thank you.”

  “Now, are you sure that’s all it is?” he asked. “Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”

  What could she possibly say? That he was a good-looking guy and she was really attracted to him? She knew that he wasn’t relationship material and that he didn’t actually have feelings for her. She did a pretty good job of tamping down her feelings for him and not letting them show. But asking her to spend an entire day, hanging on his arm, pretending to be in love with him?

  That might be more than her foolish heart could take.

  SIX

  “You’re the one who taught me every good cover is based on some truth,” Chloe said. “Have you ever had a cover that hit a little too close to home?”

  He watched as she turned back toward him, her body framed in the early morning light that spilled from the window behind her. There was an earnestness in her face that made him want to pour his heart out on the floor at her feet.

  He wanted to tell her what made him so good at pretending to be a gang member was that he understood the anger and pain that welded a heart so firmly shut that eventually all it ended up knowing how to do was to lash out in anger.

  He wanted to admit that while she’d been a responsible kid from a messed-up family, he’d been the kind of selfish and irresponsible bad boy who had punched holes in walls, cut classes and broken the hearts of good girls like her.

  He wanted to confess that while he’d played several different types of criminals, the hardest thing he’d ever had to do was to pretend to be a more broken and less kind version of himself.

  He wanted to tell her all about his family.

  He wanted to tell her about his sister, Faith, and how she’d died at the age of twelve because he’d not been there for her when she’d needed him and a killer had grabbed her on her walk home from school.

  It was like he couldn’t open one door to his past without inevitably opening them all. But if he did, how would she ever look at him the same way again?

  “Yeah,” he said. “Some covers are definitely harder than others. A three-month stint as a hockey coach is pretty easy. But there’ve been some that have lasted so long and sunk so deep that I found myself questioning who I really was.”

  “Well, I can’t imagine you’ve ever started a fight or committed a crime in real life.” A mild smile crossed her lips. Then it faded just as quickly. “How do you do it? How do you pretend you’re somebody you’re not or pretend you don’t feel things you do, without it driving you crazy?”

  “You’re overthinking this,” he said. Or maybe he was. “It’s just a day. Shut your feelings behind a big metal door and don’t let them out until your cover is done.” No matter how much he might hear them trying to rattle the doorknob.

  He left her alone in her house to get changed and make the phone calls she needed to her superiors, and headed out to his truck. Along with his superiors and hers, he also needed to call the crime scene investigation team to come in and sweep her house. Not that he expected they’d get anything usable. When his calls were done, he stared at his cell phone a long moment, debating dialing one final number.

  Lord, I need guidance. There’s nobody in the world I trust quite like Jacob.

  He dialed. The phone was answered before it had even rung once. “Jacob Henry, RCMP Criminal Investigations.”

  “Hey, bro.” Trent leaned back against the driver’s seat and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of heavy snow buffeting the truck. The eldest of the Henry siblings, Jacob was sixteen months older than Trent and half an inch shorter. Jacob had a lot of heart for a cop and a passion for justice. If things had been a lot different when they were younger, they’d probably have been best friends now instead of feeling more like slightly strained, friendly acquaintances. But still, there was nobody Trent respected more. “I’m sorry to bug you about work, but I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything.” Now that sounded exactly like something Jacob would say.

  “As you know, I’ve been undercover as a hockey coach in Bobcaygeon trying to track down the person who’s been making and selling payara. OPP Detective Chloe Brant is helping me on the case now and she was attacked this morning. She’s all right and we’ve already got a team coming to go over the house. There’s also a cell phone she recovered from a Gulo that’s being processed. I don’t know exactly what I’m asking of you. But RCMP Criminal Investigations is a small world...”

  “I can keep an eye out,” Jacob said. “I can double-check everyone involved in processing physical evidence is on the up and up.”

  “Thanks.” Trent blew out a long breath. Footsteps crunched in the snow outside the truck. He looked up. Chloe was coming down the long drive toward him. She’d changed into a tailored wool jacket, blue jeans and smart leather boots. Through the open top buttons, he caught a glimpse of a crisp white dress shirt and navy blazer. Her hair was tied back in a long, loose braid with wisps falling down around her face. She looked absolutely perfect.

  “Chloe Brant is the red-haired detective, right?” Jacob said. “This’ll be your third joint operation.”

  “Fourth, actually,” Trent said. He couldn’t remember what he’d told Jacob about Chloe. But he could hear that same admiration in Jacob’s voice that most people had when they mentioned her. He wasn’t sure if that was because of some outside knowledge or something he’d said.

  “Have you told her about your new undercover mission?” Jacob said. “The one Mom and Dad might not be too happy about?”

  Yeah, nothing like ruining family Christmas like showing up and announcing that he was going to disappear again the first week of January. And this time he would be totally disappearing.

  North Jewels Diamond Mine was located in a very remote area of Canada’s arctic. Rumors had been rumbling for years that someone had secretly been siphoning diamonds from its operations to fuel organized crime. Proving it and taking them down could cripple multiple crime rings, including the Wolfspiders. It would mean weeks of specialized mining training and cutting off all external contacts for months, maybe even a year or more. A mining operation was a tight ship, ironically to prevent the kind of smuggling he’d be there to investigate. All his communication could be spied on. His belongings could be searched. He would need to go dark.

  This time he wouldn’t even have a picture of Chloe on his phone to gaze at.

  Chloe opened the passenger’s-side door and hopped in.

  “I’ve got to go. Talk soon.” He ended the call, slid his phone into his pocket and turned to Chloe. The thought of telling her about Jacob flitted across his mind. But
Chloe was all detective. Admitting he had one brother would just lead to questions about his two younger brothers, his parents and the sister he’d once had. That was more than a can of worms. That was opening up an entire worm farm. “Good to go?”

  “Absolutely.” If Chloe had any lingering hesitation about the investigation, her eyes didn’t betray it. She reached out her slender, gloved hand. He took it in his and shook it. His hand lingered on hers and he could feel the smooth curve of her pretend engagement ring under the leather. Then he dropped her hand, put the truck into Drive and pulled out onto the snowy rural highway. Chloe pulled out her cell and opened it to a note-taking application. “Okay, tell me the plan.”

  “My first class is at nine thirty this morning,” he said. He could feel himself grinning but wasn’t exactly sure why. “Basically it’s a physical education and sports psychology class. I get a quick lunch and then go to my second lecture. Then we go grab a very early dinner with the entire team at Nanny’s Diner.

  “The owner, Eli Driver, also owns the coffee stand at the sports center and works part-time for the college as the hockey team’s assistant coach. He’s not the easiest man to deal with and doesn’t have a lot of time for weaker players. Although we do have Eli to thank for the fact that we can isolate the person who left the payara bag in the locker room to being one of the third-line players. He was running practice a few months back, got frustrated, and decided to make the four of them stay behind after practice and skate laps. He just left them there. Janitors didn’t even realize they were still in there until they turned off the lights and heard the guys hollering to turn them back on. They’d already locked up the locker room and had to reopen it.”

  “And sometime between reopening the locker room for the third-line players and locking it back up again after them, a baggie of drugs appeared?” Chloe asked.

  “Pretty much,” Trent said. “Like I told you, I’ve spent three months trying to get chummy with Third Line and so far have discovered diddly-squat. Third Line at Trillium is more like a designation for trouble players and, because there’s only four of them, it’s not even a full line.