Undercover Lovers

But still nothing in her headphone. Damn.

“Eagle’s Nest, this is Redbird. I’ve got a bead on the perp. Do I have the go-ahead?”

A burst of static hit her ear. “Negative, Redbird.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, her body thrumming like a live wire from the pent-up energy.

Instinct and training told her to go ahead and do her job. Common sense told her to follow orders and sit tight.

The perp pulled closer, near enough that she could hear his breathing. Damn Murphy! There wasn’t any reason she shouldn’t get this guy.

She heard him right there on the other side of the Dumpster. Her hand closed around butt of her gun. Stay put, stay put.

In an instant, she changed her mind, reaching for one of the empty paint cans. Her field of vision was limited, but she pulled her arm back, and when he passed, she heaved, hitting him square between the shoulders and knocking him to the ground. “Hands behind your head,” she yelled as she pulled her gun, still staying behind the Dumpster.

On the ground, the perp groaned and locked his fingers at his neck. Mentally, Tori patted herself on the back. She’d got him. And she hadn’t disobeyed orders. Not technically, anyway.

Special Agent Travis Murphy, his hands shoved into the pockets of his FBI parka, lumbered toward them, then bent at the side of the perp. “You okay, son?” Considering Murphy wasn’t treating the guy as a hardened criminal, Tori assumed the training exercise was over.

The guy sat up, rubbing his back. “Fine, sir.”

Murphy nodded, then patted him on the shoulder. “Go get yourself checked out. She got you pretty hard.”

The perp—an agent Tori didn’t recognize—shot her a decidedly dirty look. “Yeah, she did.”

She shrugged, trying to look innocent and vindicated. Her eyes met Murphy’s. “I got the perp. Sir.”

“You disobeyed a direct order.”

“No, sir. I stayed behind the Dumpster and I—”

“Damn it, Lowell, don’t split hairs with me. That’s not a game you want to be playing.”

She sucked in a breath, biting back her automatic retort about the whole point of training ops being to train agents to take action, not sit back like meek little bunnies. But she knew what his response would be—Hogan’s Alley was a fake town set up just for this kind of thing. The FBI had strict rules about the scenarios that went down there. Yada, yada, et cetera and so forth.

She pulled her thoughts to the present, where Murphy was still chewing her out.

“How the hell am I supposed to evaluate your fitness for the field if you can’t even follow a simple instruction? Not to mention that you probably dislocated O’Henry’s shoulder.” He sighed, his ruddy face coloring even more than usual in the summer heat.

Tori licked her lips, the truth fighting with her pride. On the pride side, she knew—she just knew—she’d done the right thing, made the right call. If she hadn’t thrown that can, the perp would have gotten away. The robbery would have gone down, and the FBI would have no one in custody.

On the truth side, Tori knew she’d disobeyed a direct order. In her mind, though, so long as none of the good guys got hurt, following orders wasn’t anywhere near as important as catching the bad guys. Too bad no one had asked for her opinion.

“I’m sorry, sir. It was an instinct, sir.”

“Bullshit. Quit trying to be your father, Lowell.” He bent his head to look at her over the rim of his glasses. “This is going in your file. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any choice.”

Tori’s heart sank even as her ire bloomed. She managed to catch his sleeve before he turned away. “Travis!”

The frown he shot her was anything but amused.

“I mean, Agent Murphy.” She lowered her voice. “Give me a break here. I’ve been pushing a computer since I joined the Bureau. I want to get out in the field. I want an undercover assignment.”

“Then do the job you’re assigned and earn it.”

“Earn it? I earned it at Quantico!”

He glared.

Tori squared her shoulders. “What about the report I turned in last week? Those blackmail incidents.” She started counting on her fingers. “The senator, that real estate developer and even that movie director. There’s a connection there. Did you read the report? And those are only the ones we know about. Someone’s running a scam out there. If I could only get out to—”

“Damn it, Tori. Your job is analysis, and you do a damn good job of it.”

The words came out harsh, but after a few moments, the older man’s face softened, and she recognized the familiar features she knew so well. Travis Murphy and Tori’s dad had been best friends at the academy and had worked closely together after that. When Mark Lowell had died, Uncle Travis had stepped in, watching out for Tori and her mother.

Now, she had to wonder if he was regretting being as good a role model as he’d been. Maybe if Travis hadn’t doted on her so much, she wouldn’t have followed in his and her father’s footsteps. After all, it wasn’t too late to take that accounting job at one of the Big Eight firms.

She stifled an unladylike snort. Not damn likely.

“I may be good at it, sir, but I didn’t sign up to work a desk. I have a degree in accounting, remember? I walked away from the desk job option. I joined the Bureau—”

“To be an undercover agent. Like your dad.” His eyes were sad, remembering. “I know. And I suppose I can’t protect you forever. But you’re not going to make it to the top by bending the rules.”

Her dad had bent plenty of rules, but Tori knew when to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she closed her eyes and counted to ten. It was only while she was counting that Murphy’s words sunk in. Slowly, she opened her eyes, hoping she wasn’t setting herself up for more disappointment. “What do you mean, you can’t protect me forever?” She drew in a breath. “Am I getting an undercover assignment?”

The thin line of Murphy’s mouth remained firm, but he nodded. “Yeah, kid. It looks like you are.”

Tori’s breath caught in her throat. “What? When? With who?” Her words tripped off her tongue, and it was all she could do not to shake Murphy and have him spill the entire story right then.

He held up a hand, laughing. “Hold on. You’re scheduled for a full briefing in about an hour. Right now, all I know is that you’re investigating the allegations in your report. And you’ll be working with one of the guys from your class at the Academy.”

“Doug Leyman?” she offered, suggesting one of her study buddies.

“Carter something,” Murphy said. Tori’s stomach twisted even as she wondered why Carter’s name would be unfamiliar to Murphy. Considering how much it had affected her career, surely her little tryst with Carter was legendary within the Bureau by now.

But Murphy looked genuinely clueless. “Carter Simmons, maybe?” he said.

“Sinclair,” Tori corrected. For years, she’d lived with the Carter mistake hanging around her neck like an albatross, and now this? She looked Murphy in the eye, wondering if the universe wasn’t playing some cruel joke on her. But he didn’t look to be joking, and she exhaled, standing up straighter and meeting his eye. “The agent’s name is Carter Sinclair.”

2

TORI SAT ON A BENCH outside the Burbank airport and read through her report on the Kama Resort for the umpteenth time, going over every nuance that had led to her putting together the connection between the blackmail victims, and to her conclusion that there were more victims out there still unaccounted for.

Her eyes drifted over the page, taking in every word. Not that she actually needed to read it. Heck, at this point she could practically recite the thing from memory. But reading kept her mind off Carter, and that had to be a good thing.

Carter. She shouldn’t have let her thoughts go there, because now she was stuck thinking about him. And she didn’t want to think about him. Thinking about him only made her frustrated and angry and a whole host of other emotions she had no business entertaining. And to find out she was going to be working in close quarters with him—and at a sex resort, no less.

She shivered, not sure if it was a blessing or a curse.