Kimberly Van Meter - Deep Cover

“And who vetted them?” Shaine asked. When his life was on the line, he didn’t care about being nice.

Rosa smiled. “Ahh, Special Agent Shaine Kelly. I’ve heard about you. Smart, fearless...a chameleon in the field.”

“Guilty as charged,” Shaine said with a grin.

But Rosa wasn’t finished. “Also known for having an issue with authority. Let’s be frank, Agent Kelly...the reason you’re here is that your ability to close cases outweighs your undesirable qualities. But make no mistake, eyes are on you, so watch yourself.”

Shaine caught the tiny, infinitesimal twitch of Poppy’s lips and his own thinned, though he chose to remain quiet.

So Rosa Ramirez wasn’t a fan.

Great.

Nothing like your direct superior looking for reasons to toss you out.

Rosa moved on briskly. “The Scorpion has been a thorn in Miami’s side for years, but until now the product of choice was always the usual, heroin or meth. This new drug is lethal, cheap and moving quickly. It’s the new cash crop, and unless we put a stop to it here, it will spread. We could have an epidemic within months. That’s not going to happen. We’re counting on this team to bring The Scorpion to justice. Please open your packets.”

Paper rustling was the only sound in the room as they quickly read through the details.

Shaine and Poppy would pose as twentysomething college kids. Shaine would bartend at a popular upscale bar and strip club, Lit, while Poppy would be a dancer.

A strip club? Poppy didn’t outwardly react, but he suspected her gut was churning. He knew Poppy didn’t have hang-ups about her body, but she wasn’t an exhibitionist, either.

Poppy’s attention was focused on the paper in front of her, but the absent way she chewed her bottom lip told him her thoughts were elsewhere.

“The idea is to blend into the scene where Bliss is commonly found. The dealers are like sharks circling the chum. It’s your job to seek out the higher level dealers to get close to anyone who knows El Escorpion’s identity. Once we discover a name, phase two will start, which is why we need a male and a female undercover agent. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to get this information. Are you up to that challenge?”

“Not a problem for me,” Shaine answered, looking pointedly at Poppy.

“Nor is it for me,” Poppy replied coolly, adding, “Looks like all those dancing classes in my childhood are going to finally pay off.”

“You’re sure about that?” Shaine asked, not buying her answer.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Poppy returned with a dispassionate expression. “Do you feel you can handle being a bartender?”

“All right, all right, settle down. We’re all on the same team. Like I said, the bar is upscale, so it’s not going to be some seedy place with sticky tables. Full nudity is not required, though many of the girls finish with a topless number.”

“Again, I’m fine with it,” Poppy assured Ramirez, dismissing Shaine’s comment.

“Good.” Rosa seemed pleased. “You are dismissed to settle in. Tomorrow is your first day of work. Remember, you’re college kids looking for a good time. Leave your law enforcement persona behind. These people are pros. They can smell a cop from a mile away.”

Shaine smirked. “Like I said...not my first rodeo. This is the fun part.”

Rosa said, “Both Kelly and Jones will have separate cars, but a rental is outside to take you to the location where your cars will be assigned. It may seem as though these are extraneous precautions, but we can’t take the chance of an overlooked loophole.”

He went to grab the keys to the rental car, but Poppy beat him to it.

“I’ll drive,” Poppy said, snatching the keys. “Being a passenger makes me carsick.”

Since when?

The little liar.

He always used to drive.

But someone was proving a point.

“Be my guest,” he said, following her out the door.

Yeah, this was going to suck.

Thanks a lot for ruining what could’ve been a cool undercover gig, Poppy Jones.

* * *

Having Shaine in the car was unnerving. Her plan had been to treat him like any other undercover agent.

Dispassionate.

Professional.

But the humid air lifted the scent of his skin straight to her nose and she was awash with memories.

Her breath caught.

No. She wasn’t going to do that—no going backward.

Do the job. Stay focused. Be chill.

As it turned out, Shaine broke the unbearable silence first.

“How’d you get this gig?” he asked.

“The usual way. Working harder than everyone else. Harder than every other man in my way.”

“Still the ballbuster. Glad to see some things never change.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve changed plenty. I no longer care what small-minded people think of me.”

“Whoa, right out the barrel, an insult. I was trying to make polite conversation.”

“Right. You forget I know you, Shaine. You don’t do polite and you certainly don’t do idle conversation. Your question was a dig at me. A bit passive-aggressive for my taste, but you got your point across.”

“Since you seem to know the inner workings of my mind, why don’t you enlighten me with what I was thinking when I passive-aggressively asked you a polite question,” he suggested, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Personally, I thought I was being nice to a person who certainly didn’t deserve my niceness.”

Why was she arguing with him? Two seconds into an enclosed space alone and they were ripping into each other. She was not about to let her personal feelings about Shaine ruin the biggest case of her life.

“Just stop. We need to get into character. We are not Poppy Jones and Shaine Kelly, former lovers. We are two college kids without a care in the world, ready for a good time. Let’s keep to the script, shall we?”

“And what if I don’t think you’re up for this part?”

“Oh, that old argument again? Please, get some new material—that bit is tired.”

“I’m not kidding around. You’re not ready to take on a case like this. You can’t even be around me without switching to bitch-mode. How are you supposed to pull off melting into someone else’s skin when you can’t even handle your own?”

Poppy’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. Swallowing the bile that’d risen in her throat, she said stiffly, “I didn’t expect you to be on this case. It’s just taken me a minute to adjust. I worked my ass off to get on to this detail and nothing is going to keep me from closing it. Not even you. So if that means I have to pretend that there’s no history between us, I’ll find a way to do it.”

“You sure you can?”

This time she had the wherewithal to send him a withering glance. “Yes,” she answered. “I’ve managed to put you in my past before, I can do it again.”

“Good,” Shaine said. “Maybe that’ll keep you from getting shot this time.”

“Now who can’t let go of the past?” she retorted, freshly irritated even though she knew she needed to put a cap on it. “I’m not the only agent who’s been shot in the line of duty.”

“No. But you were the only one I was in love with,” Shaine said.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“So don’t bring it up again. I’m a better agent today than I was then. Leave it at that.”

Shaine accepted her answer with a short nod and did, indeed, leave it, which was surprising. To her memory, Shaine rarely let anyone else have the final word—on that topic.

Only because he had another bone to pick.

“You really think you can pull off being a stripper?” he asked.

“And why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re more modest than most. You wore a one-piece to the beach.”