The Undercover Affair Read online

  Pete sat on the bench wearing shorts, a T-shirt and sneakers, with a baseball cap and dark sunglasses covering his eyes. He silently scrolled through his phone. Beside him was a small paper bag with the top folded over.

  She sat beside the bag and bent over to tie her laces. “How were my cookies?” she asked in a low voice. “Did you like them?” She’d brought a batch to him last night.

  Even watching in her peripheral vision she could see his wide smile “They’re gone already.”

  “Good. I hope it’s a sufficient bribe,” she murmured.

  He chuckled softly. Still not looking at her, he said, “There’s a throwaway phone inside that bag. Take it and head down the beach toward the boardwalk. When you’re finished with it, bring it back to me.”

  “Will the congressman or his people be on the other end of the line?”

  “No. Just members of our team.” He checked his watch. “They’ll be calling you in three minutes.”

  “Is anybody monitoring the cottage?”

  “Yes. Wesley is watching the cameras.”

  “Good. I’ve left the local contractors there alone. They’re laying floors.” She stretched her arms and picked up the bag, then silently stood.

  No one watched them. She walked about two hundred yards into the wind. The weather was getting wilder, so she veered away from the surf where the waves seemed especially loud today.

  Finally the phone rang and she answered, cupping her hand around her ear. “Hello.”

  “To whom am I speaking?” Commander Harris clearly asked.

  “This is Lyn Francis.”

  “Officer Fairfax. Excellent. Tell us what you’ve found.”

  From the echo on the phone, plus the pronoun “us” that he’d used, she assumed she was on speakerphone. Likely Simon was there, but that didn’t particularly matter to her.

  “What I’ve found are two framed watercolor paintings, each about nine by twelve inches, of the same female subject against the backdrop of the beach here. I wouldn’t have thought anything about them, but they were in the bedroom initially locked to me by the male homeowner, and when his wife let me into this room she made an offhand comment about them. I quote, ‘I wouldn’t mind if these were stolen in a break-in.’”

  “Did you ascertain what she meant by this, Officer?”

  “The woman in the paintings is a former love of his, but that’s not what makes the paintings truly interesting.”

  “Go on.”

  Two people were walking past her. Lyndsay waited until they’d passed.

  “Initially, I was suspicious of the wife’s comment, so I showed the paintings to Pete. We believe paintings by this same artist are common to all our clients.” Surely, they would understand she meant the burglaries. “Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to locate the artist, because the other owners remember very little about where they acquired the art, likely because they’re not valuable and seem to have been painted by an amateur. I’d like to ask our homeowner about them to figure out who the artist is. Then I could talk to the artist—maybe get more paintings or at least get some history about the ones we have.” She was hoping that this information could break open the case.

  There was a brief silence on the other end. “How is your cover?” Commander Harris asked.

  “Intact.”

  “And work on the congressman’s home?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Coming along quite well.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be the one to talk with Congressman MacLaine. You’ll hear from Pete when I have news to pass to you. In the meantime, continue to keep your eyes and ears open.”

  She supposed that was the best she could hope for. Lyndsay let out her breath. “Very good.”

  “Let Pete know if you need any more assistance. And stay alert, Officer.”

  “I will.”

  Commander Harris ended the call. Lyndsay surreptitiously put the phone in the bag, then returned to the bench where Pete still sat. She took a seat, casually setting the bag between them.

  “You good?” he asked her.

  “Yes, we’re good. He’ll talk to the client, then get back to you with the results. Then I’m cleared to speak with the artist.”

  Pete nodded. He tilted his face to the warm sun. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an alarm company I need to visit.”

  “How I wish I could come,” she said wistfully.

  “Enjoy it here today. The beach is a lot nicer than an office park.”

  “When do you think he’ll get back to us?”

  Pete shrugged. “A day or two. Who knows when you’re dealing with VIPs out of cell phone range.”

  A day or two. That gave her some time to breathe, for once.

  She knew exactly how she wanted to spend that time.

  * * *

  “I’M GOING TO the Seaside for lunch today,” Lyndsay said to Andy. They stood at the top of the staircase inside the MacLaine cottage. The bathroom tile was halfway completed. The pattern of differing shades of blue looked even better than she’d imagined. Down the hall, AJ and Chet were opening the boxes of flooring, inspecting the gray-stained, oak-look planks. Shouldn’t take more than a day or two to finish, Andy had promised.

  She’d already inspected the painted ceilings downstairs. No trace of water stains. It was noon. She had an hour before the furniture shipment was expected.

  “Great.” Andy grinned at her. “Then my work here is done.”

  Lyndsay left and drove her black Audi with the sunroof open, breathing in the fresh air. The parking lot for the Seaside was almost full—just a spot near the front door was open. She pulled the car in.

  Grabbing her purse off the passenger seat, she headed inside the restaurant. The smell of freshly baked bread was mouthwatering, and her stomach growled. There was already a line at the register to pay. Four people seemed to be waiting to pick up phone orders. Two parties sat at tables, digging into their sandwiches and soups. She glanced about, but didn’t see John. Just Millie, the waitress with the graying brown hair, ringing up take-out orders as fast as she could.

  Off to the waitress’s side was the entrance to the kitchen that Lyndsay had seen Andy use many times before. Taking a chance, Lyndsay headed through, unseen by the busy waitress.

  She’d only made three steps inside the barrier before John stepped out, stopping in front of her.

  She swallowed. He stood inches from her, wearing a gray, short-sleeve T-shirt that showed off his muscled arms and chest. He seemed to be radiating authority as he gazed at her with all of his formidable passion.

  She met his eyes, so remarkably gray-blue that they seemed to match his shirt.

  “Can I help you with something, Lyn?” His voice so deep, it gave her shivers.

  She kept her eyes on his. She didn’t step back, either. They stood so close to one another, anyone watching them would know they’d kissed before. The air between them seemed to crackle with energy.

  “You asked me to sleep on it, John,” she said in a low voice. “And I slept.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, slowly. Two lines appeared in the middle of his forehead. “And?” he asked in the same low voice.

  She swallowed again. “I like our growing friendship. I appreciate that you told me about your family and your priorities. I want to keep seeing you.”

  He eyed her warily.

  She took a breath and looked deeply into his eyes. He seemed to waver. That gave her the courage to continue. “A long time ago, somebody close to me also had a very busy life, with priorities that came before mine. All that came to me were crumbs from the table. Maybe that sounds bleak to you, but it’s anything but bleak to me now. I wouldn’t give up having those times for the world.”

  But that was then, and this is now. S
he’d grown and she’d learned since then. “I’ve seen that even crumbs from a table are better than starving.” Her voice cracked. “I have six days left here, John. I want to make the most of them and spend as much time with you as possible. If you agree, then call me when you’re off duty. I really hope you do.” She took a breath and then turned away.

  She’d been honest with him, too. Now it was up to him to decide.

  She was in the parking lot halfway out to her car when he caught up with her.

  He stepped in close, putting himself between her and her car door. “You deserve more than crumbs from a table,” he said huskily.

  “Maybe so. But that’s for me to decide.” She reached around him for the door handle, but he caught her wrist lightly.

  She stilled, her body yearning for his touch. Then his thumb dragged up her wrist, caressed the sensitive skin of her arm. She shivered, restraining herself from touching him like she wanted to.

  He leaned his head close to hers. “You smell so good, Lyn. It’s been driving me crazy, thinking of you.”

  “Well,” she sighed, hoping that Pete wasn’t anywhere near them at the moment. “Please, come see me when you get a chance. You know where I’m working.”

  “How about I come this afternoon?”

  “Great, if you don’t mind Andy and his crew being there. You can come and help us move furniture.”

  He grinned at her, undeterred. “Oh, you can bet I will.”

  She watched him head inside the Seaside, the door slapping shut behind him. She was still smiling when she got into her car and turned on the engine.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THREE HOURS LATER, Lyndsay gaped, amazed. After days of chaos, the MacLaine design seemed to be coming together.

  Lyndsay let in the two men DesignSea had sent, who wheeled in a load of custom cabinets and bookcases for the upstairs sitting area. In the master bedroom that she had thought of as hopeless just a few days ago, all new furnishings, including bedding, pillows and accessories had been delivered. AJ and Chet installed the nice vinyl flooring, and Moon finished his tile job. Even outside, the patio landscaping had begun in earnest, and it looked great.

  Her cover had held—thank goodness—and Kitty MacLaine would reap the benefit of a new, beautiful home. Lyndsay was up a ladder, installing a new set of blinds in the front window when she saw John’s black truck pull into the driveway and park beside Andy’s van.

  She’d been waiting to see him. Stepping down from the ladder, she put her hand to her throat.

  Tall, purposeful, head high. John was aiming for her. In a new way, it lifted her spirits.

  She met him at the door, running her hands through her hair to smooth it.

  “Hi,” he said, gazing at her. His hands were stuffed inside his pockets. “I was able to get away for a while.”

  “Would you like to come in and see my design skills? The place is really coming together now.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled at her. “I have to admit I’m curious.”

  She opened the door wide for him and led him inside. “It’s the most important interior decorating job I’ve ever done.” Feeling playful, she positioned her hands over his eyes. “Pretend that you’re the homeowner and this is the big reveal. Well, what do you think?”

  * * *

  JOHN LIKED BEING part of Lyn’s excitement. He liked the feel of her hands on his face. Liked that she was happy about having him there.

  She’d done a great job. He walked around the house with her and looked at everything as she explained it all to him. Later, as the workmen hustled around them, he and Lyn flopped on a set of old couches in the still-unfinished living room that overlooked the ocean.

  “I could get used to living the good life here,” she said. “This place is much bigger than my tiny apartment.”

  “You live in an apartment?”

  Her cheeks turned pink, but she nodded. “I’m hardly ever there. I’m always on assignment for my job, it seems.”

  “Do you travel a lot?” he couldn’t help asking. He was genuinely curious.

  She smiled wistfully at him. “Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to have a normal life sometimes? I mean, where you spend regular work hours in a place that fulfills you and then afterward in a personal life where you’re not...?”

  He understood what she was starting to say. And since her talk with him last night, he’d been thinking about how much he sacrificed for the family and the business, feeling responsible for all of them.

  He checked his watch. “Speaking of, I hate to leave, but I have an appointment in ten minutes and then some errands I need to get done.” He glanced at her. “You’ve been cooped up here all week. Would you like a change of scenery? I know you’re an early bird. Do you want to see something special at sunrise tomorrow? Sort of like a private adventure.”

  “Where?” She sounded excited.

  “It’s a surprise. You’ll see.”

  She grinned at him. “Yes, I think I would.”

  “Meet me at my house at a half hour before sunrise.”

  “Okay. Should I bring anything?”

  “Just yourself.”

  * * *

  LYNDSAY BARELY SLEPT, she felt so revved up about their clandestine meeting. As she got dressed the next morning, so early it was still dark outside, she debated bringing her Glock. She decided against it though, because this wasn’t a work meeting.

  She took just her flashlight and jogged over to John’s house, across the street and through the wet grass, coarse because of the sandy soil it had to grow in.

  John opened the door before she even knocked, as she’d expected. He had a motion detector in his driveway, after all.

  She couldn’t tell him, but he would make a great law enforcement officer. He had the right mind-set for it.

  “I hope I’m not too early,” she said, bending over to pet Toby.

  “Nope.” John picked up the big tabby and waved one of his paws at her. “Good morning, Lyn.”

  She laughed and headed inside with him and Toby. The kitchen smelled like brewing coffee.

  “Have a seat,” John said, directing her to the table in the breakfast nook. He sat, too, and quietly focused on what looked like medical supplies he’d assembled on the table. A plastic bag that looked like an IV bag was set up in front of a small tabletop heating fan. It looked like he was warming the fluids up. Beside that was a plastic bag filled with plastic-covered needles.

  “This will only take two minutes,” he said, fiddling with one of the needles, “and then we’ll be off.”

  “What do you have to do to Toby?” she asked nervously. He was settling the cat in his lap, petting him and talking in a low tone to him. Was he going to give the cat some kind of IV drip?

  “My brother doted on his pets,” John explained. “After he passed, well...” He smiled wistfully. “My mother is allergic to cats, so I had to take over caring for him. He had his yearly vet appointment last month, and come to find out, his kidneys are failing. The vet isn’t sure how long he has, but it doesn’t look good. Unless he gets his fluid, he’s constantly dehydrated. So every morning before work, I give him his hundred milliliters. It seems to help him. He’s happier and less cranky.”

  “I’m not sure I could give a cat a needle,” she said nervously.

  “It’s not bad.” John laughed softly, rubbing Toby’s furry head. “Six months ago if you’d told me I’d be doing this...” He shook his head. But he didn’t seem embarrassed, just amused.

  Watching him taking care of Justin’s cat, a lump grew in her throat. It was clear to her that this was a way of keeping his brother’s memory alive. Beneath his tough exterior, John hid a soft heart.

  “What if you miss a session?” she asked. “Will it hurt Toby?”


  “I don’t know.” His eyes gazed into hers. “I’m told the treatment won’t reverse his condition, but it does improve his quality of life.”

  “Your family must get a measure of comfort from that.”

  A line appeared in his forehead. “I’m sure they do,” he said. “I do, too.”

  She reached over and petted the tabby’s head. He was purring. Even though he had, in effect, a plastic tube going into him subcutaneously between his shoulder blades he didn’t appear to feel it. He seemed mostly happy for the attention and petting he got from John. She smiled to herself. She could relate to that.

  She was getting insight into John’s personality. There was a lot more to him than he showed on the surface.

  “I should’ve asked if you were allergic to cats,” he said.

  “I’m not.” She shook her head. “I had a cat as a girl. A big Maine coon.” She smiled at the memory. But then she remembered how it ended, and that saddened her. Life was such a mixture of beginnings and endings. For once she wanted to build something and not see it disappear so quickly.

  “What was your cat’s name?”

  “Milo. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge when I was in high school. I was so traumatized, I didn’t ever want another cat. Love was too painful.”

  He made a faint smile. “Could explain your choice of profession—independent and traveling all the time.”

  “Could be. But I doubt it.”

  “Trust me.” John stood. “I’ll do what it takes to take care of Toby, for Justin’s sake. It’s what he would have wanted. But after Toby leaves this world, this is it for me.”

  “Why not get your own cat?” she asked. “You seem to take pleasure in it.”

  “I’d rather take pleasure in you.” He reached out and touched her cheek. Then he deftly removed the IV before cleaning up the supplies. “Let’s go. We’ll leave Toby to his own devices.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly, getting up with him and following him to the door.

  He shot her a grin. “It’s a surprise.”