The Undercover Affair Read online

  “Ma’am, I’m not going to tell you again. If you step off that grass once more, then I will cuff you.”

  She sucked in her breath. Now what? Her heart was pounding. If they cuffed her, if they processed her at the station, then her fingerprints might be on file—

  Maybe if she called the congressman, then they could straighten out this confusion. Her phone was in her pocket. She reached for it, and—

  “Ma’am, please keep your hands where I can see them.”

  “I’m just reaching for my phone so we can call the congressman.”

  The officer strode up to her, his face red, and stepped into her personal zone, much too close.

  Now she felt angry. This wasn’t good. She struggled to bite her tongue, to control her temper.

  “Whoa, Phil.” Lyndsay heard a familiar voice and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. John stood beside her. And coming in the distance, down the hill, were Margie and Uncle Frank.

  Great. Another few passersby were pausing to witness the commotion. Pull up a chair and join the show, she thought. If only Pete would mosey on by, they could make it a party.

  “Phil, what’s going on?” John asked. “Why’ve you got Lyn on the grass? She works here. I can vouch for her.”

  “You know her?”

  “Yes, I do.” John turned and smiled at her, giving her the buck-up sign.

  Phil shook his head. “This is the congressman’s house. I can’t mess around with that. My butt will be in a sling.”

  “Don’t worry, I can vouch for her, too,” another familiar voice piped up. Lyndsay turned and saw Andy, hustling over as fast as he could jog. She smiled at him in relief.

  A second patrol car pulled into the drive. Another officer stepped out. He was older. Less buff. He joined their little circle, moving with deliberation.

  “Did an alarm go off?” he asked Phil, to the point.

  “If so, it would be my fault,” she interjected quickly. “Maybe I didn’t enter the code in properly when I was locking up.”

  “I’m afraid I need to check on her story,” Officer Phil said.

  “Come on,” Andy exclaimed. “This is Lyn Francis. She works for the DesignSea company, she’s an interior designer. I can vouch for her. She’s been out here with us for weeks. I’d swear to it. You can trust her.”

  Thank you, Andy, she thought silently.

  “She is who she says she is,” John added. “Ask any of us.”

  Moon was there, too. And AJ. All of them nodding at the police officers. John’s family stepped forward, too.

  Lyndsay swallowed. A realization hit her so hard, that she felt weak in the knees.

  She had done her job. She’d done it so well that she’d fooled everybody.

  And they trusted her.

  Her throat felt raw. Somehow, though, she kept going with the charade she was supposed to keep going with. She used her phone to call Congressman MacLaine. She also spoke with the two police officers. It was decided that a mistake had been made, that Lyn Francis was fully trustworthy, and that they all would take a walk through the house—Lyn and Officer Pierce with Kitty MacLaine on the phone, which Lyndsay kept in her ear—to ascertain that everything inside was, indeed, where it was supposed to be.

  Lyndsay felt as if all her blood had rushed to her cheeks. They didn’t suspect what was really wrong with her, though—they seemed to assume it was just embarrassment that caused her to turn so red.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Andy murmured to her, with John beside him. “We’ve all been there before—being embarrassed. But mistakes happen.”

  John nodded, too. “Yeah. Don’t feel bad. We’ve got your back.”

  Swallowing, she punched the security code into the system, her palms sweaty, her conscience stabbing at her. In front of witnesses, they’d put their own reputations on the line and vouched for her false identity.

  I’m undercover to protect them and their community. She needed to keep reminding herself that she was doing a service for them, something good. Otherwise, the guilt over lying to them would swamp her.

  Honestly, once this incident was solved, she now saw how important it was to plan her exit. There would be a huge fallout if her real identity ever came to light—which she needed to make sure never happened.

  A pang of regret stabbed her. It was true she wanted something longer term with John, but that was impossible. To tell him the truth would be to break her cover, which would no doubt get her fired.

  Glumly, she entered the house, with all of them trooping after her, including Andy and John. Officer Pierce didn’t move to exclude them, and at this point, Lyndsay was hard-pressed to think of a reason not to include them, given that she’d been letting them into the house all week.

  In the living room, everything looked the same. The large portraits were over the fireplace. The gleaming kitchen was freshly cleaned. Even the sliding glass doors leading to the patio were intact. No signs of breaking or entering.

  Upstairs, where she’d done the bulk of her work, everything seemed fine.

  “Wow. This place looks really good,” John said in a low voice to her. “I hadn’t seen the rest of what you’ve done.”

  She smiled sadly at him, her phone still pressed to her ear.

  They all came to the locked master bedroom door. That’s where the congressman’s safe was. The two watercolors she’d been investigating were also inside, hanging on the wall in the alcove, though she supposed they were probably a moot point by now.

  “Kitty? Hello?” Kitty hadn’t been saying much to her on the phone. Officer Pierce’s radio was squawking away.

  “Yes,” Kitty answered on the other side of the line. “I’m still here.”

  “Should I unlock the door to your bedroom suite and check inside?” Lyndsay asked.

  “You’d better check it. Yes. There’s a police officer with you, right?”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “Okay, go ahead. You have my permission to let them in.”

  Lyndsay inserted the key. Please, may nothing be missing.

  She unlocked the door and let the troupe of people inside. The new bed, the new bedding and window treatments and furniture greeted her. The new design looked great.

  Inside the closet, the safe was still there, still locked. She didn’t need to ask Kitty for the combination. That it was there, locked and unmoved, was enough evidence to her that it was fine.

  Officer Pierce paused by the alcove. His head cocked as he stared at the two watercolor portraits of the woman and the dogs frolicking outside on the cove.

  “Those are two of Justin’s paintings, aren’t they?” he asked John.

  John’s arms were crossed. “Yeah,” he murmured to Officer Pierce. “It appears so.”

  “Justin was a really talented kid,” Officer Pierce said to John. “I was in his high school class. It’s a shame what happened.”

  John nodded. He blinked once or twice. His eyes looked wet.

  But she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Justin had painted the watercolors? Open-mouthed, she stared at John.

  He winced slightly. “I’m sorry, Lyn, I wasn’t sure when you asked me the first time about them. Then when I did know for sure they were Justin’s work, I hadn’t told you about him yet. It seemed awkward to explain it, so I just kept quiet.”

  You could have told me when you did tell me about Justin! she wanted to yell. But everyone was looking at her. And in the scheme of things, her lie to John was much worse than his small lie of omission to her.

  Her lie was still in effect.

  Andy cleared his throat. “John told me not to talk to you about him.”

  “So...you knew about the paintings, too?” she asked, covering the phone with her hand.

  “Don�
�t blame him.” John reached over and pulled her close. “I told him to let me do the telling.” He kissed her cheek, even in front of Andy and Officer Pierce.

  John trusted her and believed they were getting closer with each day. Until this incident, she’d believed so, too. But after this incident with the Wallis Point police, she needed to focus on her exit plan, now.

  If John found out about her, that would not only put the whole operation at risk, but also it would hurt him terribly. He would see it as a personal betrayal.

  Everything was out of control.

  “We’ll talk later,” John murmured to her.

  “Yes,” she mumbled. I need to break it off with him. There was no other choice.

  She felt miserable inside. Rubbing her arms, she signed off on the call with Kitty, then followed the men from the room. She locked the door behind them. Out on the street, Officer Pierce said to her, “Be careful with the alarm in future.”

  “Yes sir, I will.”

  “Welcome to Wallis Point, Ms. Francis.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  John stood beside her and watched as the two cruisers backed out of the driveway.

  Her cover was safe. The crisis had been averted. And yet, inside, she was falling apart.

  Andy came over and stood beside her. “You okay?” he asked Lyndsay.

  She couldn’t even tell him the truth about how she felt. At least until now, she’d been honest with her feelings.

  “I’m embarrassed,” she muttered by way of an excuse. “I probably put in the wrong alarm code.”

  “Don’t be,” Andy said. “Like I said, it’s happened to all of us.”

  “Yeah,” John agreed.

  They were being kind, and she felt like weeping for that reason only. They were really good to her. Actually, they were just good people.

  Then, within the crowd around her, she saw Pete, her backup. What was he doing here?

  I’m okay, she signaled him. You can please go away now. Making sure to carefully look away from him, she raised her right hand and deliberately scratched her head.

  From her peripheral vision, she saw Pete nod. Still, he hung around.

  “I, um, should go fill up my car before the station closes at six,” she said to John.

  “Want me to come with you?” John asked.

  The crux of it was, she didn’t want to break off with him, but she had to. She shook her head. “No. That’s okay. You can go back to visit with your mom and uncle.”

  He frowned. “You really don’t have to be embarrassed about it, Lyn.”

  “I’ll be right back,” was all she said.

  “Good, then come and have dessert with me.” He gave her a sly wink. Andy had turned away—by now, he knew what they were up to. Or maybe not. John didn’t speak to people about his private business; she was sure of that.

  “Okay,” she said. But she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek again. In front of Andy. In front of his mother and uncle, watching them from across the street.

  And in front of Pete.

  “Lyndsay,” he murmured. “I’m glad you’re staying for a while longer.”

  Her heart seemed to crack in two. This was so difficult for her. In different circumstances, she could so easily love him.

  * * *

  LYNDSAY GOT IN her car and drove directly to the convenience store on the beach, the regular rendezvous place. She parked in the small lot in front, then went inside directly to the frozen food aisle. Pete was standing by the waffles, his phone to his ear.

  She mentally squared her shoulders, then walked up beside him. She didn’t even make a pretense of shopping. She was tired of always having to pretend.

  He raised an eye at her then hung up his phone. “Is everything okay, Lyn?”

  “I’ve kept my cover, if that’s what you mean.” She was so tired of pretending she couldn’t even speak in code.

  “What happened out there?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I assume I made a mistake keying in the alarm code. I might have been arrested if not for the locals knowing the police officer.”

  “The important thing is that you were professional.” Pete said it as a statement.

  She nodded, still feeling troubled.

  Pete tilted his head to her, concerned. “Lyn, I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”

  How could she say to Pete, I’m a lousy undercover cop because I’m falling for one of my informants? Impossible, unless she wanted to guarantee a black mark next to her name. Realistically, who could she talk to about it?

  Not her dad. No way. For one thing, he would be disappointed in her for hurting her opportunity to advance, and for another, she was his daughter.

  The only person she wanted to talk to was John. She actually would like to come clean with him and tell him the truth, but she couldn’t deliberately blow her cover or she’d jeopardize everyone on her task force, and quite possibly the case itself. Simon was still interrogating witnesses.

  Pete was staring at her, waiting for an answer, so she said, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just realizing how serious it is being undercover.”

  Pete pursed his lips, nodding. He glanced at the mirror overhead. Nobody was in the market, nobody was watching them from the front. “I’m going to keep backing you up, Lyn. In fact, I called to cancel the order with Wesley to remove the cameras so I can keep a closer eye on them. How long do you think it will take to finish the MacLaines’ cottage, realistically?”

  “Tomorrow there’s a final delivery of accessories for the living room at ten o’clock. I can finish up tomorrow afternoon, if I rush, which I’m planning to do. I really need an exit plan, Pete.”

  “Good thinking. Meet me here, packed and ready, tomorrow night at seven. We’ll officially pull you out then. I’ll talk to Commander Harris, maybe work on getting you assigned to the interrogation team. Just don’t say goodbye to any of the locals, all right?”

  She swallowed. Could she do that? “I have to say goodbye to one person,” she said softly.

  Pete pursed his lips again. He’d seen John kiss her. He must know what was going on there. “You need to tread carefully,” he said. “You’re good at this job precisely because nobody suspects you. You need to keep that advantage, Lyn.”

  Yes, she’d even fooled John. Her cynical John.

  Pete gave her a careful look. “I didn’t just insult you, did I?”

  “No.” She smiled gently at him. “And thanks for understanding. I’ll think carefully about how I handle this. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JOHN WAITED AT his house for Lyndsay, but over an hour had passed, and she hadn’t returned. So he postponed his plans for TV with Patrick and instead headed to the MacLaine cottage.

  First, he stopped by the local supermarket and picked up a bouquet of flowers, just because. Small things like that seemed to cheer her, and she’d just had an upsetting experience.

  He knocked on her door, and she answered, arms crossed. She wore a pink windbreaker, and her blond hair was drawn back and up to expose the delicate skin on her neck and collarbone.

  He held up the flowers and smiled, but he didn’t get a reaction beyond a robotic “Thanks.”

  This wasn’t like her. She seemed preoccupied. The late afternoon sun framed her face, and she blinked at him as if in a daze. The purse she wore around her shoulder slipped and was going to fall, but he stepped forward and caught it.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  She blinked at him. “Um, did your mother and your uncle leave yet?”

  “Yes. They headed home an hour ago.” He walked past her and into the kitchen, intending
to help her by putting the flowers in water. Maybe find a pitcher or a vase in a cabinet somewhere. He turned to find her standing behind him, staring numbly at him.

  She was more shaken by what she’d gone through than he’d expected. He drew her over to sit on a stool at the kitchen island beside him. “Hey. It’s okay, Lyndsay. Nothing was taken from the house. Phil was just being a hard-ass, trying to do his job the way he thinks he’s supposed to. I know you’re a conscientious worker, but it’s not your fault.”

  She put her elbows on the counter and rested her head in her hands. “That’s not an excuse.” She looked so miserable, his heart went out to her. She hated screwing up. She seemed to be a perfectionist in her work habits, but not in a bad way.

  “Aw. Come here.” He dragged her stool closer to him. The hot tub was visible through the sliding glass door on the patio. “Maybe we can think of something fun to do tonight. That will help you get over it.”

  She stiffened in his arms, then slightly backed away. “I’ve been...reconsidering, John.” Her voice was strained, and her eyes didn’t meet his.

  “Reconsidering what?”

  She stood and stepped away. Pacing, she seemed to be searching for words, but hadn’t found the right ones, or maybe the courage to voice them.

  She’s ending this...

  A slight panic filled him. He wondered if this had something to do with Phil mentioning that Justin had painted the watercolors? He’d been thinking about that incident and her small, shocked reaction to it, ever since the awkward way Phil had brought it up during the walk-through.

  John hadn’t mentioned it to her after he’d told her about Justin, because he hadn’t realized it was such a big deal to her. If he’d known, he’d definitely would have told her.

  “John, I made a mistake,” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the countertop. “Our relationship was always doomed. I never should have let it get this far to begin with.”

  “Please don’t say that. You’re just upset about the police being here.”

  She shook her head, miserable. Her eyes were glistening, which made him want to fix everything for her.

  “Why don’t we talk about it, Lyndsay?”