Sandra Orchard - Deep Cover

Rick couldn’t make out the license plate.

A new receptionist, Laud’s third in as many months, sat at the desk facing the entrance. “Hi, I’m Duke Black, Laud’s foreman.”

The redhead looked up and Rick’s heart stopped for a full two beats.

Her face had hollowed out, leaving her eyes shadowed. And her hair.

The sun glinted off the short spikes like fiery flames. Her hair used to be brown.

A stab of guilt knifed his gut. How could he have let more than a month lapse since his last visit to Tom’s widow?

“Mary? What are you doing here?”

“Duke?” A hint of laughter colored the question. “Is that the best name you could come up with?” She shook her head. “You guys always did act like John Wayne wannabes.”

“Hey, I use whatever name they give me.” He glanced at Laud’s closed door and lowered his voice. “You know how it works.”

She matched his tone, and something about her—something more than the hair—seemed different. “So you’re investigating my boss? What for?”

“Like I said, you know how this works.” If she knew who Laud was and why Rick was here, she wouldn’t be within a hundred miles of this place.

“Sure, I understand. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

He slanted another glance down the hallway. “You can look for another job.”

“Please don’t tell me that. It took me two months to find this one. Miller’s Bay isn’t exactly an employment hub.”

“I thought you and Meaghan moved to Toronto.”

“We couldn’t. My in-laws petitioned for custody and won. At least temporarily.”

“I’m sorry.”

“They warned me the day of Tom’s funeral they’d do it. I know I’m only Meaghan’s stepmom, but I never thought the judge would …” Mary dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Tom’s folks never liked me.”

Rick wanted to argue, but he’d seen enough of their attitude to suspect she was right. “If there’s anything I can do, just ask.”

“Thanks. Just so you know, I’m using my maiden name. My references were from before I married Tom.”

“Crantz, got it. We can say we know each other from high school. You can answer one question for me. Who was the guy who cut out of here a few minutes ago?”

“Our salesman, Samuel Jones.”

At the end of the hallway, Laud’s door opened. He rushed toward the exit, glancing at Rick’s blueprints as he passed by. “I’ve no time to talk now. I’m late for an appointment. Mary, lock up when you leave.”

“Yes, sir.” Mary turned her attention back to Rick. “I was on my way to the diner for supper. Care to join me?”

Rick thought about the leads he wanted to chase down tonight and resisted the temptation to involve Mary, but when she turned hopeful eyes his way he didn’t have the heart to say no.

Ginny slowed her car to make the turn into the parking lot of Hank’s Diner.

In the passenger seat, her friend Kim pointed to someone coming out the side door. “Hey, isn’t that your foreman guy?”

Despite Ginny’s resolve to keep her relationship with Rick strictly business, her heart fluttered at the prospect of running into him.

Kim rubbed her hands together a little too gleefully. Dressed in her usual fitness wear with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked like a kid with way too much mischief in her genes. “Ooh, this will be so much fun. We can walk over to him all nonchalant-like and—” Kim grabbed Ginny’s arm. “Stop. Don’t turn. He’s with another woman!”

Ginny punched the gas and sped away. “What am I doing? Why should I care if he’s with another woman?”

“Oh, come on. You haven’t stopped talking about him since he got to town.”

“Complaining about someone is not the same as liking them.” Okay, maybe after his hundred and one courtesy calls—updates on the investigation and pleas to lay low—had begun to peter out, she’d actually started to miss hearing from him. But all she had to do was picture that rock smashing through her window to remember why she shouldn’t.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t want him because some redhead has already snatched him up.”

Ginny veered into the next parking lot, turned around and headed back to the diner.

Kim toppled against the car door. “What are you doing?”

“Going to eat. Where we’d planned.” She lifted her chin, ignoring the erratic thud in her chest. She couldn’t avoid him forever, especially if she wanted to stay in the loop on their investigation. She just needed to resist his charm, and with another woman in the picture and Kim at her side that’d be a cinch.

“You go, girl,” Kim shouted, punching the air like the teen delinquents she supervised down at the detention center. “Just play it cool,” she added in her coaching voice. “If there’s anything serious going on between Duke and the redhead, he’ll avoid you like rotten meat.”

“Hmm, thanks for that picture.” Ginny parked and wiped her sweaty palms down her slacks. Then, wearing a carefree smile she didn’t feel but hoped Rick would believe, she wandered toward the pair.

Rick’s tan had darkened, and his hair, a little longer now, looked good, really good. He’d lost the moustache, too, which afforded a perfect view of his dimples.

Dimples that, when he turned to Ginny, made her heart do jumping jacks.

Jumping jacks that must’ve rattled loose a few brain cells because instead of calling to mind the sounds of shattering glass, all she could hear were whispers telling her that maybe he’d told the truth. Maybe whoever tossed that rock at her window had targeted the wrong house. After all, nothing bad had happened since. Maybe Rick had changed.

“Ginny!”

The delight in his voice sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She waved and tried to find a way to meet his gaze that didn’t betray the letdown of seeing him with another woman.

“Have you met Miss Crantz?” he asked. “She’s your uncle’s new administrator.”

“Oh, yes.” Ginny’s voice lifted with that news flash. “We’ve talked on the phone.”

From the formal way Rick introduced the woman, coupled with the intensity with which he held Ginny’s gaze, Ginny would’ve believed there was nothing between the two, until Miss Crantz swatted his arm in the playful way only close friends do.

“You’d think he was introducing his teacher. We’ve known each other since high school.” She reached out and shook Ginny’s hand. “Please, call me Mary.”

Ginny smiled. At least she hoped it was a smile because she couldn’t think of one intelligent thing to say. And Kim was no help—hanging back, pretending to be absorbed by a text message.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” Rick said in a voice as warm and inviting as hot apple cider on a cold winter’s day.

Mary glanced from Rick to Ginny to Kim and back to Rick. “I think that’s my cue to get going. Thanks for dinner, Duke.”

“I’ve gotta go, too,” Kim chimed in.

Ginny grabbed Kim’s arm. “What about dinner?”

“Uh … I forgot that I promised one of the teens at the detention center that I’d help … uh … dye her hair. Yeah, that’s right, dye her hair. I’m sure Duke will be happy to keep you company,” Kim added with a you-can-thank-me-later lilt.

The one-sided quirk of Rick’s lips made Ginny’s heart cartwheel. She tightened her grip on Kim’s arm. “No, you can’t go.” The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with Rick. “I drove you. Remember?”

Kim waved off the objection. “Not a problem. I can walk. I’m sure you won’t miss me.”

“No, I can’t let—”

Rick tapped her shoulder. “Stay,” he said. “We need to talk.” Except this time his tone didn’t sound so inviting.