Spy in the Saddle

She wore cherry-red cowboy boots, a denim skirt that was so short it was barely legal and a light green tank top that looked familiar.

He leaned forward to see better. Those curves... He didn’t want to be thinking what he was thinking. He had to be mistaken.

She stopped in front of the microphone with her hat pulled low over her eyes, her head bent. She hadn’t sung a word yet, but already she held the crowd’s attention, something the previous performer hadn’t managed. Chins were hitting the tables all over. The men ogled her as if they were ready to devour her.

Then she looked up and flashed a dazzling smile that lit up the room. She had a face to match the body, for sure. A couple of men growled with appreciation. Others let out more wolf whistles.

“Hot damn.” Even Keith couldn’t keep quiet, his voice laden with reverence.

Shep came halfway to his feet then caught himself and dropped back down just before he would have blown his cover. “What in blazing hell is Lilly doing up there?” He hissed the words between his teeth.

But Keith was too dazzled to listen.

* * *

SHE LOCKED HER KNEES so they wouldn’t shake. It’d been a long time since she’d sung onstage. And she’d never been a country singer. Lilly flashed another smile before she nodded to the three-man band behind her and started into a country ballad, similar to the one the singer before her had chosen.

She was one minute into it when she realized it wasn’t going to work for her, not at a place like this. The sweet love song was something women would listen to in the car while driving to school to pick up their kids. The rough-and-tumble men who filled the bar weren’t looking for sentimental, no matter how good the chords were.

Brian had been clear that he wanted a performance that hit the ball out of the park. Revenue was weak on band nights now that their lead singer had quit. He wanted some serious dough coming in. He wanted something that would bring people in early and make them stay until the closing bell.

She tried her best, putting all the heart she had into the song. Unfortunately, nobody was listening. A lot of the men were looking at the stage, but they were staring at her legs.

Since the audition was to be decided by applause...If the men kept staring instead of clapping when she finished, she was sunk.

Brian had asked for one song from each singer. She glanced at him as he sat up front, paging through a ledger book. He’d paid very little attention to the auditions so far. He certainly didn’t look as if he was ready to offer her the job on the spot. She needed to get his attention and she needed to do it in a hurry. Her ballad was almost over.

Oh, what the hell, since when did she play things safe? As she sang the last note, she glanced back and winked at the band, then turned to the audience.

“I like country,” she said and flashed a smile when a couple of men hooted in agreement, “but I’m a versatile kind of gal, so how about I show you a little bit of something else?”

A drunk shouted a few suggestions of what he’d like her to show him. The rest of the men laughed.

She had the lights in her eyes, so she could only make out the first row, but she knew the bar was packed. Tryouts for a new lead singer brought in some extra people, Mazie had told her just before Lilly came onstage. People liked the idea of getting a vote. Liked to check out fresh meat, too, probably.

Lilly took the ribbing in stride and tossed her cowboy hat into the audience, whipped her long hair and belted out the first line of the chorus to “I Love Rock ’n’ Roll” at the top of her lungs.

There was a second of pause. This was the moment where she might get thrown off the stage. But nobody booed and the manager simply watched her.

Then the band picked up the song.

Relief flooded her as she went on singing, excitement filling her little by little, and she danced across the stage as she sang, suddenly feeling like a kid again, without any worldly possessions, just the road and her guitar. She sang her heart out like she used to, the old moves coming right back as she rocked the hell out of the place.

She’d already been thrown back to the past by seeing Shep, and now this finished the job. She felt a decade younger and couldn’t say she didn’t like it.

“Yee-ha!” someone shouted.

Boots slapped against the wood floor, the applause deafening when she finished, with a few marriage proposals thrown in, and the men demanding more.

She felt a surge of satisfaction and just plain pleasure. She’d worked so hard to make herself into something more, something serious, that she’d forgotten how good this had felt.

“You have a fun night, now!” she called out to acknowledge the support.

The manager was grinning at her, looking pleased as peaches.

She grinned back then ran backstage, passing the next act going up, another lanky cowboy who stared at her with a troubled look on his face. She set aside the buzz of adrenaline and turned her attention to her true purpose for being here: covert surveillance. She turned off the rock chick and turned on the FBI agent.

For the moment, she was alone backstage. The narrow hallway connected the main bar with the office and the kitchen that prepared a dozen food items—all well salted to keep the drinking at an optimum. Her attention settled on a closed door at the end on her other side. She’d seen that earlier, had wondered where it led. This could be her chance to investigate.

The next contestant started into a song on the stage, sounding unsure. He had a good voice, but it seemed that her performance had thrown him. He didn’t seem to be able to find his footing.

Lilly tuned him out as she hurried over to the mystery door and tried the knob. Locked. Since she was pretty sure they were close to the outside wall and there was no upstairs above the bar, if the door hid stairs, they’d be going to a basement.

She had lock picks in her pocket. She reached for them, but footsteps behind her made her spin around. The music was so loud, she hadn’t heard him in time, not until the man was right behind her.

Brian’s face was expressionless as he watched her. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak first.

She flashed him her best smile. “Is this the staff bathroom? I think somebody’s in there.”

“No staff bathroom. We all use the one by the jukebox.” He didn’t volunteer any information on where this door led.

She could have asked, but didn’t want to sound as if she was snooping. “So how did I look on your stage?” she asked instead. “Felt right—” she grinned “—I tell you that. Nice crowd, too. I sure could get used to it.”

He measured her up. “We’ve never done anything but country.” He paused. “You know, from anybody else, this might not have gone down as well. But you...” His gaze stalled on her breasts for a second. Then slid to her injury. “What happened to your arm?”