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  “That’s the general idea behind what we look for in an undercover officer. Glad you’ve got such a protective streak going for her already.” Evans strode out from behind his desk and approached the window. Prying the metal blinds apart with his fingertips, he tapped decisively on the glass to draw Rory’s attention. “Because she’s your new partner.”

  • • •

  “I could hear you.” Rory settled into the rolling chair behind table in the conference room. This was the worst part of working undercover, trying to convince those she was working with that she could actually do her job. Two years spent on a series of undercover assignments — one after another –she kept praying someday she’d get accustomed to being the new kid on the team, trying to prove her worth.

  This case was different. She didn’t care if her team members wanted to work with her or not. She’d fought to be a part of the investigation at Moreland University University since the very first death before her career began, but each time she’d been turned down – until last night.

  Driving through the streets on the way to the station, she was surprised to see how little Peytonville had changed since she’d lived here. She just hoped she’d changed enough. Even though the mayor had requested help, he didn’t know who was actually sent to help.

  Today she still felt the hair bristle on her neck as she watched her new partners’ disapproving expressions. “When you were yelling in your boss’s office. I heard what you said.” She plunged on, fire glinting out of her eyes. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t do this job.” She pulled a battered laptop out of a messenger bag she carried. It completed the look she’d worked so hard to perfect. Flipping the screen open, she waited for the machine to power on as she ignored the hostility rolling off him in waves.

  “Have you been undercover before?” He spoke so loudly, he drew the attention of the cluster of officers in the break room.

  She jumped to her feet, and the rolling chair shot out from beneath her and bounced against the doorframe. Pressing her palms against the tabletop, she used her best stage whisper. “Do you want to say that a little louder? I’m not sure the guys in lock-up could quite hear you.” Rory pointed out the window to the men and women milling about in the office shared by most of the patrol officers.

  Zachary’s expression didn’t change, but he lowered his voice. “You didn’t answer my question. Have you done this before?”

  She rolled her eyes and gave a deep laugh. The corner of her lips turned up in a hint of a smile. “You’re joking.” She wasn’t sure why this detective thought it was his place to judge her. Yes, he looked as if he could be on a recruitment poster with his muscles outlined beneath his weathered shirt, but it was the careworn expression in his eyes that sucked her in, staring down at her from behind the fringe of dark hair. She couldn’t allow herself to be intimidated by him. “Pretty sure they had me pegged to go undercover the first time I stepped into the academy.” Her small frame and innocent face combined with her 4.0 grade point average and degree in theater made her the ideal candidate for going undercover.

  She noticed their conversation had begun to attract curious stares from officers pretending to still be working at their desks. If they were trying to act as if they weren’t following the conversation, she prayed that none of them would ever try to work undercover. They’d get caught before they spoke a single word. “We need to talk, but not here.” She took hold of a notepad in the corner of Zach’s desk and quickly wrote down an address. “Meet me here in two hours.”

  Zach’s eyes narrowed and he glared at the blue square of paper. “Why do we … ”

  A hand reached down in front of Zach and picked up the note. Christian nodded to himself and answered for Zach. “We’ll be there.”

  “Thank you.” She stood and gathered her messenger bag and purse. Reaching out her hand, she shook Christian’s hand first and then Zachary’s. “Thank you, officers. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help. I don’t know who Cadie was dating.” She gave Christian a pointed look. Play along.

  “Well, thank you for coming by. If you can think of anything … anything at all, don’t hesitate to call us.” Christian reached into his shirt pocket, removed a stack of business cards, and handed the top one to her.

  Rory nodded her thanks, pocketing the card. Her face became troubled as she walked to stand in the doorway. “Y’all are going to catch this guy, right? I’m going to miss her so much.” She bit down on her trembling lip and covered her hand with her mouth.

  “We’ll do everything we can.” Christian nodded solemnly.

  • • •

  “Why do you think she wanted to meet here?” Zachary slammed his car door shut and looked at the shopping center. “They have coffee in Peytonville.”

  Christian shrugged his shoulders. “No idea, but you heard her at the station. Sounds like she didn’t want the guys at the station to know she’s undercover.”

  “Oh, right.” Zachary nodded and waited for a black Honda Civic to drive past before he continued walking through the parking lot. “We’ll do everything we can.” His impression of his partner was spot-on, and he knew it. “What was with that?”

  “Just playing along.” Christian ducked under a low-hanging tree branch next to the front door of the coffee shop. “Thought I’d be helpful. You might try it sometime.”

  “Can’t believe this was their solution.” Zach tugged the front door open and glowered at the jingle bells announcing their entrance.

  “Howdy boys!” An eager middle-aged woman wearing a nametag labeled Madge written in thick black ink waved from behind the counter. “Welcome to Beans and Things.”

  “I’ve got this.” Christian walked to the counter and waved off Zachary. “Why don’t you go see if she’s here yet? Just black coffee, right?”

  “Yeah.” Zach nodded and turned away from the counter toward where he assumed the seating area must be. Before he could find any booths or tables, he had to pass through what could best be described as an antique store run wild. Doilies, fall crafts, and china plates covered all the walls. More than one timeworn porcelain doll stared down at him from atop a display case, and he fought back a shudder. Dulcimer music played through tinny speakers overhead. Weaving through the cluttered booths of dusty items available for sale, he finally found the tiny dining room. A single occupant sat in a booth in the far back corner reading a best-selling book that was the current topic of many break-room conversations back at the station. The redhead was so engrossed in whatever she was reading, she didn’t even look up as he entered the room.

  Christian clomped into the room, and Zachary didn’t feel quite so out of place in the room only an aging grandmother could love.

  “She could have at least been on time.” Zach turned back to Christian in annoyance.

  Christian answered with a smirk and pointed to the woman reading in the corner. “She is.”

  Rory pushed her glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose and nodded once. “So glad y’all could make it.”

  Zach blinked in shock and followed Christian into the booth. The sultry blonde they’d met at the police station was gone. In her place sat a young woman with strawberry blonde hair fixed in a braid that ran down her shoulder. Vividly green eyes blinked out from behind glasses with thick black rims. When she’d been at the station, her eyes were electric blue. Which shade was real? He squinted and stared – definitely the green. She’d been wearing colored contacts at the station. Interesting.

  “Nice to see you too,” Rory spoke, interrupting his thoughts.

  “You’ve changed.” Zach was confused, and he didn’t mind letting it show. Why’d she go to all the trouble of altering her appearance just to meet with them?

  “I came to the station almost straight from the plane, which is why I needed a little time before I could meet with you.” She sippe
d her coffee and paused when Madge appeared with two coffee mugs and a plate of muffins.

  “On the house.” The woman winked at Christian.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” He took a dark chocolate muffin and bit into it. Smiling, he chewed and swallowed quickly. “They’re great.” He frowned and whispered after Madge walked away. “She saw my badge in my wallet.”

  “Of course she did.” Rory sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s why I picked this place.”

  “And why is that exactly?”

  “Do you think many college students are going to be caught dead in here?” She didn’t wait for a response. “I don’t have a lot of time, so let’s talk about how this works.”

  “Wait.” Zach ignored the coffee sitting in front of him. “You didn’t answer my question back at the station. You’ve done this before? I’ve worked with a guy who tried to go undercover for the first time once.” He shook his head. “Didn’t go so well. Chad couldn’t handle the pressure and got himself shot. I don’t plan on watching that happen again.”

  “You won’t.” She didn’t try to hide her annoyance. Rory stared back at him without hesitation. “Over the last two years, I’ve been more high school and college students than I care to count. I’ve lived in six states, and I’ve worked for three different divisions of law enforcement. Trust me, I’m good at what I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Zach stared back and drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. “I still don’t like it.”

  “I don’t really care if you like it or not.” She set her book on the bench beside her and leaned across the table. “I’m here now, and there’s nothing you can do about it … except maybe walk back out that door. But I’m still staying. They’d just assign me to someone else, and I’ve been told that y’all are the two most experienced officers in town.” She paused. “So, here’s the plan.” She passed them each a note card with a phone number written on it. “That’s my number. If I call you, answer it. If I send you a text, do what it says. Other than that, you don’t contact me. I’ll let you know when I need something. Understood?”

  Zach was caught speechless. This was his case – well, their case if he counted Christian. Who did she think she was coming in here and giving him instructions? “So you say jump, and we ask how high?”

  “Exactly.” Rory pulled a wad of cash out of her purse and deposited it on the table. She slid out of the booth and left without another word.

  • • •

  Rory pressed the button on her remote to unlock her car as she stormed through the gravel parking lot, anxious to put as much distance between herself and her two new partners as possible. Christian’s virtual silence during the meeting wasn’t too unexpected – she’d expected her arrival would be met with a less than thrilled response. But Zachary … Who’d died and left Sergeant Zachary Rowlins the all-knowing officer in charge of all undercover agents?

  “Rory!” The glass door to the coffee shop clanged shut.

  She clutched the strap of her purse like a lifeline continued walking through the parking lot.

  “Stop!” A hand grabbed her none too gently from behind.

  Barely able to restrain her temper, she pivoted in response to Christian’s voice. “People are staring.” She hissed through clenched teeth. A car pulled in to the vacant parking space on the passenger’s side of the car and a half-dozen teenagers spilled into the parking lot. Jostling each other, they laughed as they made their way up the stairs toward the ice cream parlor with a line so long five people stood on the sidewalk under the red and white striped awning. One pair of teens stayed behind and locked lips in the space between the cars.

  “Let them.” Christian followed her to her forest green Mini Cooper and rested his hand on the cloth roof, effectively pinning her into place. A muscle at the corner of his right eye twitched. He was definitely mad.

  Well, that made two of them. Rory placed her hand in the center of his chest and shoved him away from her. “Drawing unnecessary attention isn’t the best way of keeping my cover intact.”

  “Who says I want to?” Christian returned to his original posture, deliberately invading her personal space. “Kennedy, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “Rory.” She corrected him tersely. “For as long as I’m here, my name’s Rory. Use it.”

  “I shouldn’t have to because you shouldn’t be here.”

  “Toni, Brandon, just get a room already.” A girl in a vibrant coral tank top and shorts that just barely skimmed her lace underwear leaned over the metal stairwell railing and called out to her companions. “Come on. We’re not going to wait for you.”

  Rory welcomed the interruption in her current standoff with Christian as they had to wait for the teenagers to stop making out long enough to stop leaning against the battered station wagon and join their friends in the ice cream shop.

  “We’re coming.” The female half of the high school couple ducked out from beneath her boyfriend’s embrace and tugged him behind her as they joined the rest of the group.

  Rory pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down at the ground to try to further calm herself. She’d met with Anita at length before accepting this assignment. Her boss tried to convince her that coming back to Peytonville shouldn’t have been a problem – even with Christian still here. After leaving when she wasn’t quite 10, no one would be able to recognize her any longer – especially not with red hair. She glared into her brother’s green eyes. “Anita called me and said she’d been asked to send someone. I’d just wrapped my case in Seattle, so I got on the plane and flew down. I didn’t ask for this assignment.”

  “Sure you didn’t.” He leaned down so close to her she could smell his familiar cologne. He must have a date tonight.

  “I’ve tried to stay out of it. You know that.” Her pulse pounded in her ears as her annoyance increased. “Do you want to catch who killed Quinn or not?”

  “What do you think?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “But that still doesn’t mean you get to stay.”

  She hated it when he tried to boss her around. By the time Rory was six, their father had figured out that having his two families under one roof for an extended length of time never ended well. Today was proving to be no exception to that pattern. She was so angry she could practically feel the steam rising from her ears. “That’s not your call.”

  “Like hell it isn’t. All I have to do is tell Zach who you are … ”

  “I’d like to see that pompous ass do anything about it.” Rory grabbed hold of Christian’s upper arm and shook it. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You need to remember that I outrank both of you. I can get you busted back to writing traffic tickets faster than a snow cone will melt out here.” Her eyes flicked to the summer sun bearing down on them for emphasis. “Listen to me. This case is bigger than you think it is. You’re going to have to trust me.”

  Christian let out a long breath and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’ve already lost one sister. I just don’t want it to be both of you.”

  “You won’t.” Using the look that had gotten her more than one extra cookie on weekends he visited their father, she smiled. “I promise.”

  Chapter Two

  Rory let out a breath and leaned against the frame of her car as she studied the building in front of her. She’d had a chance to look at the floor plans when she’d received her “Welcome to Moreland University” packet in the mail.

  The main women’s dormitory had six standard floors and a series of larger rooms on the seventh floor for students who could afford them. Cadie’s death had left one of those attic rooms with a vacancy, and Rory was more than happy to fill it. Based on the top row of casement windows built into the weathered gray limestone walls not exactly matching up with the lower floor beneath it, Rory guessed that the attic rooms were larger tha
n the standard dorm rooms – definitely an improvement over the closet-like room she’d last shared with two roommates.

  Standing here now, she realized her first impressions of the dismal-looking building weren’t too far off. Gray and bland, she’d seen prisons with more character. So far, the only redeeming quality her home for the next few weeks had was the cluster of massive pine trees filling the oversized lawn with spent needles. The university founders had definitely been fond of the green space on the campus.

  Excited voices carried on the stinging August breeze as friends reunited after the summer break. She’d forgotten how difficult it was to find relief from the blistering Texas sun. A cluster of co-eds walked past pulling rolling suitcases behind them. Her new dorm-mates, she guessed. They slowed as they approached her, the tallest blonde not even trying to hide her judging stare.

  Short-shorts from Buckle. A peasant blouse made popular by a Hollywood A-lister’s shopping trip in SoHo. Maxi dress from the latest Anthropologie catalog. These girls were definite attic dwellers.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met.” Syrupy sweet, Rory was surprised the blonde didn’t gag on the taste of her own words. She held out a hand in greeting but the look on her face conveyed the worry that interacting with the commoner would transmit a communicable disease.

  Rory knew the drill. She’d done this before … exactly how many times, she couldn’t quite remember, but every school had one of her. “I’m Rory. I’m new here.” Rory took the offered hand and suppressed a shudder at its similarity to holding a dead fish.

  “Pleasure.” She drawled, resting her palm on her hip. “I’m Hallie. And exactly what brings you to Moreland?” Her ice-blue eyes studied Rory’s appearance with the scrutiny of a reporter at New York Fashion Week. From the tips of her freshly manicured toes to the blowout the humidity was doing its best to defeat, Rory was certain Hallie wouldn’t find a single misstep in her carefully chosen wardrobe.

  “I had a difference of opinion with the new head of my old school’s theater department.” Rory answered, mildly amused at the change in Hallie’s expression. One mention of theater, and the blonde appeared to have recently been sucking on a lemon. Was she anti-drama students or something else?