Cathryn Parry - The Undercover Affair

Commander Harris glanced at her. “Yes. Cut from their frames.”

“Like a museum heist,” she blurted.

“A lot easier than that,” Simon muttered. “These homes aren’t the fortresses that museums are.”

“And the safes,” Wesley added. The team was really solidifying now. “Don’t forget the haul from the safes.”

“How much is that estimated to be?” she asked politely.

“From what we’re being told, tens of thousands in cash,” Commander Harris replied.

“Don’t know if I believe that.” Simon leaned back cynically and clasped his hands behind his neck. “Has to be a lot more. What business are these new vics in?”

Lyndsay turned to Commander Harris because she was curious about the answer, too. He seemed to be hesitating. All she knew about the MacLaines was that Paul MacLaine, recently retired as congressman, now worked part-time as a political lobbyist. Technically, he was a former congressman, but nobody around Wallis Point referred to him thus. Paul was quite wealthy. He hadn’t started out that way, but he had made money during the past decade by investing wisely. That was the scoop Andy had told her.

“All five burglaries are from private homes on the seacoast. No one was home during the burglaries, although three of the homes have live-in staff who weren’t on the premises at the time.”

The MacLaines didn’t have live-in staff. During her four days alone in the house, she’d seen and heard nothing suspicious. When she’d left the house yesterday, the two paintings were intact over the fireplace, and the wall safe behind the smaller of the two paintings was undisturbed.

“Line of business of the owners?” Simon pressed.

“Private businesspeople, as were the owners of the other four homes,” Commander Harris replied. “Nothing nefarious involved that we can see.”

“Or they wouldn’t have come to us for help,” Wesley pointed out.

“How did the task force start?” Lyndsay asked. Simon rolled his eyes at her question. She swallowed, but glanced to Commander Harris. “If you don’t mind my asking, sir, I’m unaware of the reasons for the formation and what our broader scope is.”

“You may ask all you want, Officer. You’ve played an important part thus far—and you will be playing a key part in the future.”

“Excellent.” She sat back in her chair.

“Pete, why don’t you fill in Officer Fairfax—Lyndsay—as to the history of our task force. Wesley, as well.”

“The first burglary occurred five weeks ago,” Pete said, leaning forward, his fingers interlaced. “I was a detective on the first case. When the second burglary occurred a week later, I noticed the similarities. About the time of the third similar burglary, Congressman MacLaine notified the governor.” Here, he glanced to Commander Harris.

Commander Harris took up the narrative. “The congressman was concerned that a more unified, centralized and elevated effort be formed, across agencies, to apprehend the burglars. So as of a week ago, we have a task force. The expense is not inconsiderable, and each of you will have clear, focused duties, which will continue for no longer than two weeks. At that point, the governor expects an arrest or arrests.”

She nodded. “What has everyone been doing so far?”

“Lyndsay—” Officer Harris addressed the others “—has been undercover as interior designer Lyn Francis. She has a complete online persona as Lyn Francis, thanks to Wesley.” Here, Wesley smiled at her. “Lyn Francis is the only person on our task force with an undercover alias, and we will get to her mission in a few moments’ time.”

She couldn’t wait to hear it.

“Pete,” Commander Harris continued, “has been investigating the background of area contractors as flagged by Lyndsay. We have reason to believe that locals are involved, and Lyndsay’s efforts here are crucial. Pete is also serving—and will continue to serve—as backup for Lyndsay. Simon has been following up on crime scene investigations, as well as investigating insurance company reports, alarm system company personnel, and staff at burgled homes. Wesley is with us part-time. He will be installing cameras at the congressman’s home, but we’ll get to that later, as well.” He turned to Wesley and nodded.

It seemed to be a signal, because Wesley tapped at the keyboard of a laptop before him. On a wall screen, a photograph of Congressman MacLaine appeared.

“This is Congressman MacLaine,” he said unnecessarily. The congressman’s familiar long face and full head of thick, brown hair, was a common fixture in the local media. Lyndsay hadn’t actually met him or his wife yet. She also hadn’t dared to poke about too much in their possessions in any of the twelve rooms of their oversize beach cottage.

“Lyndsay,” Commander Harris said, “the congressman has specifically requested that you stay in his cottage, beginning Monday, for the next two weeks while he and his wife are away on a cruise vacation. There is a guest room that looks over the street, and you may set up in there.”

Her mouth was open. She hadn’t expected this order, at all.

“Wesley will be there on Sunday evening,” Commander Harris continued, “to place a network of hidden cameras in the MacLaine home, which will give a complete picture of the surrounding grounds as well as the rest of the street and the three mansions facing them. While he is there, your job will be to cover and assist him.”

She blinked. “Do you expect the congressman’s home to be targeted? Has there been a tip?”

“Not at this time. The congressman has requested the cameras. If his home is to be targeted, he wants evidence. He’s funding this part of the effort, though that is not to be made public knowledge.”

She nodded. “Of course.” But still it niggled at her. What was she supposed to do there? “With all due respect, sir, what will I be investigating?”

He gave her a censorious look, so she folded her hands and waited. Sometimes it was difficult to follow the dictates of the chain of command.

“Officer Fairfax, your primary mission is to maintain your cover. Do not break it for any reason. I repeat, for any reason. Not even the local authorities have been made aware of your presence, or of the existence of our task force. If you are so much as stopped for a traffic ticket, you will give them your cover name. If necessary, you will allow yourself to be arrested and even locked up.”

She gaped at him.

But Simon was nodding. “Been there, done that,” he muttered.

She glanced at Pete. He was shrugging.

“This isn’t a game, Officer Fairfax.” Commander Harris gazed sternly at her. “You’re to keep your eyes and ears open. You will remain at the MacLaines’ home, and your backup officer will maintain contact with you by phone. Additionally, you two will conduct a short daily meeting at a nearby rendezvous point.”

Pete leaned over and murmured to her. “There’s a convenience store nearby, just a walk out the back slider and down the beach. I’ll fill you in later.”

“But what police work will I conduct?” she asked Commander Harris. She’d already gathered the names of the local contractors. She couldn’t imagine what else he needed her to do, just sitting idly at the congressman’s home all day, watching and waiting for a break-in that might never come.

“Your daily investigative duties will be up to your backup officer,” Commander Harris said. “Rest assured, your undercover presence is extremely valuable, and we have more than enough work to keep you occupied, if you will listen for one moment.” He sent her another censorious look, so she pinched her lips together and waited.

Commander Harris nodded to Wesley. The computer technician pressed a button for the next slide. A picture that looked like a driver’s license photo flashed on the screen—a female who looked to be Lyndsay’s age. She had shoulder-length, dark red hair, and a direct, fiery gaze. “This is Kitty MacLaine.”