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The Lawman's Secret Vow
Tara Randel
To have and to hold—until the case is solved?When an undercover assignment pairs laid-back Florida detective Dante Matthews with by-the-book cop Eloise Archer, he knows it won’t be easy.And not just because they’re competing for the same promotion. Now they’re living together under the same roof, and it’s getting harder to ignore his deepening feelings for his “wife.” Can he convince Eloise to partner up—for life?


To have and to hold—
until the case is solved?
When an undercover assignment pairs laid-back Florida detective Dante Matthews with by-the-book cop Eloise Archer, he knows it won’t be easy. And not just because they’re competing for the same promotion. Now they’re living together under the same roof, and it’s getting harder to ignore his deepening feelings for his “wife.” Can he convince Eloise to partner up—for life?
TARA RANDEL is an award-winning, USA TODAY bestselling author of fifteen novels. Family values, a bit of mystery and, of course, love and romance are her favorite themes, because she believes love is the greatest gift of all. Tara lives on the west coast of Florida, where gorgeous sunsets and beautiful weather inspire the creation of heartwarming stories. This is her seventh book for Mills & Boon Heartwarming. Visit Tara at tararandel.com (http://tararandel.com) and like her on Facebook at TaraRandelBooks (https://www.facebook.com/TaraRandelBooks/).
Also By Tara Randel (#ub20c2a39-4475-5acd-a590-3d97380e9bdd)
The Business of Weddings
His One and Only Bride
The Wedding March
The Bridal Bouquet
Honeysuckle Bride
Magnolia Bride
Orange Blossom Brides
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Lawman’s Secret Vow
Tara Randel


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08585-4
THE LAWMAN’S SECRET VOW
© 2018 Tara Spicer
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A smile that made him feel like a hero spread over her lips.
The sun had pinkened her skin and her hair shone in the light. Between victory and spending the day in close proximity to Eloise, Dante wanted to kiss her.
The thought shocked him to his core. Kiss her? He’d been dealing with this new attraction, but to take it a step further? Too much, too soon.
He fisted his hands together to keep from hauling her against his chest.
“I knew you could do it,” she said. “You were made for this case.”
“Saying I’m sneaky?”
“In the best way.” Her grin grew bigger. “I made inroads today, as well.”
He threw his arm over her shoulder and tugged her close, one part undercover, the other part pure selfishness. It was like they fit together.
Should he be worried?
Dear Reader (#ub20c2a39-4475-5acd-a590-3d97380e9bdd),
I’m so excited to introduce the Matthews brothers to you. You’ll be seeing more of them in the books to come, but in The Lawman’s Secret Vow, we begin the journey with Dante, the youngest of the Matthews clan. The brothers are on a mission to protect their mother, and being the well-meaning but suspicious sons that they are, you can imagine the lengths they’ll go to in order to uncover the truth.
Have you ever wondered what it’s like for police officers who go undercover? How it would feel to solve a case and put away a bad guy? Experience the rush of adrenaline by jumping into action that is just a bit over the line? For Eloise Archer, this goes against everything the by-the-book detective is about. For Dante, it’s standard operating procedure. Put them together and wait for the fireworks to begin.
I love this couple. They’re both so different in their process of discovering the truth, but eager to get the job done. In life, people don’t achieve goals by going after them in exactly the same way. Where’s the fun in that? As this couple begins to trust, something deeper develops. But do they have the courage to confront those feelings?
The books in this series will also feature Deke and Derrick Matthews, as well as a surprise heroine with her own story. Sit back and enjoy the ride, because the Matthews brothers go full tilt on life and will have you falling in love along the way.
Happy reading!
Tara
To my police officer friends who bravely serve and protect their communities, and take time out of their busy schedules to answer my endless questions.
Contents
Cover (#ubb47b887-a9a2-5d51-9b44-9148d84474de)
Back Cover Text (#ufbc82773-6171-5777-8b8a-df9eb10f8dec)
About the Author (#u690fb979-ce3f-5932-a547-69d5933d55eb)
Booklist (#uda29970f-7449-5ca2-b75e-0ef500c0b3f7)
Title Page (#ua0d90e6a-b5c8-5503-a07a-0fdc11509d47)
Copyright (#ub996c58d-0fa9-5113-a0eb-ac7d0a3cfeb1)
Introduction (#uc52ada23-3f28-59f4-be42-ef8373bf46c9)
Dear Reader (#uca95efd5-5230-5b74-bdb8-0185a579e4f0)
Dedication (#uf006450d-cf5e-5168-86d2-ee67db007e00)
CHAPTER ONE (#uc41e399c-92d6-5d2c-8711-5126fe9a30c9)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5313655c-a32b-5aec-8645-14787bbacaeb)
CHAPTER THREE (#u72fd669f-f980-5b99-8b25-973772ff9c4e)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u2e6a3785-69a6-52a9-a368-8aa1f157305c)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ub20c2a39-4475-5acd-a590-3d97380e9bdd)
A STRONG HAND clasped Eloise Archer’s upper arm, yanking her toward a deserted hallway in the Palm Cove, Florida, police department. She glanced at the hand and then looked up at the serious dark blue eyes of fellow detective Dante Matthews.
“Chambers is on the warpath. Pretend we’re having a work-related conversation.”
She clutched the file folders in her arms tighter to her chest, ignoring the shimmers of attraction that came with Dante’s touch. It was bad enough she worked with the handsome man, was it too much to ask that she not...notice him so much? They had a professional relationship, end of story. But Dante, with lush dark hair, recently cut short after his last undercover operation, stood tall and lean, filling out his button-down shirt and jeans—very much a dream man.
Or hers, anyway.
She spied over her shoulder to see Lieutenant Chambers standing in the doorway of his office across the wide, busy squad room, arms crossed over his barrel chest. Dante was right on the mark with his assessment. Their superior officer did not look happy.
“What did you do now?” she asked, returning her gaze to his. She knew the answer. Wanted his version.
“Nothing serious.”
“Really? I heard your last case had a bit of a hiccup,” she returned, showing him she wasn’t clueless. In fact, she probably knew more about the results of his undercover operation than he thought she did.
His eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled at her. “Hiccup is an understatement.”
“Jumped in to make the arrest too soon?”
“Not by design. Six months of undercover work down the drain, but at least I got one arrest in the end.”
“Tell me what went wrong.”
“It’s not important.” His fingers repeatedly squeezed and released her bicep in a rhythm she doubted he was aware of. That was Dante, always moving. “What is important is that I need your help.”
One eyebrow rose. She knew what was coming.
“I’ve been relegated to desk duty until Chambers decides to give me a break. I’m behind on paperwork. Any chance I can talk you into a late-night catch-up session?”
“Reviewing reports? Why would I do that when I have my own to manage?” She held up the folders to prove her point, immediately missing the warmth of his grasp on her blouse-clad arm when he dropped his hand.
“We can go out for drinks afterward.”
“I don’t think—”
“That’s right. You don’t drink. How about grabbing some food?”
“I haven’t even agreed.”
A slow smile spread over his lips. “Come on, Ellie. Help a coworker out here.”
Eloise’s face burned. He was the only person in her life to have ever given her a nickname. “Eloise will do.”
“But you look like an Ellie.”
Did she? Her name happened to be a bit old-fashioned, probably the reason why her parents had given it to her when she was born. Literary professors, they loved classics from centuries past. But Ellie? The woman who dressed in a white blouse and navy or black skirt every day? Pulled her hair back in a no-nonsense bun to keep it out of her face? She was an Ellie?
Eloise tried to ignore his cologne, a musky aroma mixed with spice, tickling her nose.
“C’mon, Ellie. What do you say?”
“If I do help you, and I’m not saying I will, you’d owe me.”
It was only fair she ask for something in return. She might be dedicated to the job, but she wasn’t going to let him use that knowledge to push his work off on her.
His eyes lit up. “Sounds intriguing. What did you have in mind?”
Definitely not what his expression suggested, which probably included wild fun. She couldn’t imagine Dante living life any other way. And why was she reading anything into it? He was so far out of her league. Besides, her one experience with an almost work romance had crashed and burned. She didn’t care to replay that mistake ever again.
“My request would be that when we work together on a case, you listen to me.”
He tilted his head. Sized her up. “I don’t listen to you?”
“It’s not so much me as other officers you’ve worked with. You have a bit of a rep.”
Brows beetled over his eyes. “A rep?”
Like he didn’t know it. “You aren’t exactly a team player.”
“I get the job done.”
The edge in his voice told her she’d touched a nerve. “Let’s face it, you do rush into situations.”
“When it’s called for.”
Great, the chummy coworker was gone. He had his cop face on now.
A loud cough from behind drew their attention from the conversation and back to the lieutenant.
“How about we table this discussion and revisit it later?” she suggested.
He nodded, then strode away.
“Every time,” she muttered under her breath. Whenever she’d mentioned his...flaw, he withdrew. Because she called him on it? Or was he well aware and embarrassed? After all, he had cost the department an important case.
Hitching her shoulders back, she headed for her desk, ready to get some work done before any calls came in. The Palm Cove PD wasn’t huge. A two-story structure, the bottom floor was the command center of the building. Desks for officers were located on one side of a waist-high wall, the detective’s area on the other. Half of the desks were occupied, with low voices from fellow officers making follow-up calls or the slow tap, tap, tap of others writing up reports on a computer, and the remaining surfaces were littered with files and paperwork or messages.
A front desk situated behind glass in the lobby spanned one side of the building with a wall separating it from the officers’ desks; a holding cell took up the complete other side. Burned coffee emanated from a small kitchenette down the hallway in which they’d just stood.
Upstairs held administrative offices, including the chief’s domain. As the town grew, thankfully so did the budget. There were fifteen officers employed right now.
She’d just dropped the files on her desk when a chirpy voice waylaid her.
“Girl, we need to talk.”
Eloise turned to find Brandy Cummings resting a curvy hip on the side of the desk. In her midtwenties, she’d been hired fresh out of college, taking over the crime scene investigation position Eloise had vacated when she’d become a detective. Brandy was eager, smart and knew every detail of what went on in the department, official and personal. Eloise admired that. Physically, Brandy was the exact opposite of Eloise’s willowy shape and studious demeanor. And yet despite their different approaches to the job—hers methodical and well thought out, Brandy’s spontaneous but effective—Eloise wasn’t surprised when they’d become good friends.
“I overheard Lieutenant Chambers on the phone talking to someone about the sergeant position.”
Eloise glanced around them. “You know you shouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Listen in on private conversations.”
Brandy swiped a nonchalant hand through the air. “You need to know. He mentioned your name.”
Her heart accelerated.
“And Dante Matthews.”
And then came to a screeching halt.
“Dante? I’m surprised. The lieutenant doesn’t like Dante.”
“That’s for sure.” Brandy chuckled. tossing her thick, black hair over her shoulder. “Chambers calls him a danger and a disgrace. I swear I’ve seen his eye twitch when Dante’s name is mentioned.”
“That’s harsh.” Even if the danger part rang true.
Brandy shrugged. “Which means you’ll get the promotion.”
“I don’t know,” Eloise hedged. Even though she wanted the job. More than anything.
The rumors of the promotion had been circling the department for weeks, especially since they had yet to fill the sergeant position left open by a recent transfer. She’d passed the civil exam without a problem, made sure Chambers was informed of her grade and made her desire to be considered for the position known, then secretly kept her fingers crossed that she’d be offered the chance to move up in rank. She’d been on the Palm Cove police force for four out of her six years as a police officer, a detective for two, and hoped her experience weighed into the decision making.
“Chambers respects you.”
Eloise straightened the files and other office supplies positioned on her compulsively neat desktop. “That’s because I do my job and get my reports in on time.”
“And you work well with everyone. You’re good at supervising and making decisions.”
“So is Dante.” She remembered his earlier request. “Well, everything but desk duty, that is.”
“Yes, but you are the complete opposite of reckless.”
She stilled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“No. I mean, I’ve learned a ton from you. But sometimes you have to think outside the box. Dante has that ability in spades.”
Eloise frowned. “I could be reckless.”
Brandy burst out in a merry laugh. “Oh, honey.”
“Really, I could,” Eloise fumed. “Watch me.”
Brandy merely patted her on the arm and strolled away to start a conversation with a patrol officer who’d just walked in.
Who was she kidding? She plopped down into her chair.
Reckless was not a word she’d use to describe herself. She always had to push herself out of her comfort zone, especially since becoming a cop, and she was extremely proud of herself.
Now she had a chance to move up the ranks. Make a name for herself. Show her parents she’d made the right decision by forgoing a career in academics, like they’d wanted, and pursuing a degree in criminal investigation. A job she loved, with a possible promotion in her future.
The phone on her desk rang. She picked it up on the third ring, infusing an authoritative tone into her voice. “Detective Archer.”
“Eloise, it’s Tom Bailey over in Palm Beach. Got a minute?”
“Sure.”
She’d run into Tom, also a detective, at different police functions, since Palm Cove, located on the east coast of Florida along the Atlantic, was twenty miles north of Palm Beach. Actually, she’d applied to the Palm Beach PD when she’d sent out résumés, but Palm Cove had offered her a position first. Maybe one day she’d consider moving, but she liked it here and had the promotion to consider.
“We picked up a teen the other night. Lives in your area. Pulled him over while joyriding in a stolen car.”
Teen car thefts were a growing problem. Auto theft was bad enough, but the underage drivers usually crashed while the police were in pursuit. It seemed they got at least half a dozen calls a month from folks who’d discovered their cars were stolen.
“So what do you need from us?”
“It’s not really what I need, more of a heads-up. We’re cracking down on the problem here and hope we can share information in the future.”
“You know I’m happy to work together. This isn’t a problem that’s going away anytime soon.”
“I figured you did the research.”
How could she not? She’d had multiple cases on the offense, but what made it frustrating was that the underage kids were sent to juvenile detention, then released within hours or a few short days, only to become repeat offenders. Bragging rights could be found all over social media, which the department monitored, with kids posting pictures with key fobs around their necks like trophies or snaps of the speedometer when these kids drove in excess of one hundred miles per hour down the road. Worst-case scenario was if one of the kids found a weapon in a car they’d stolen, an added prize that propelled the legend they’d spread online.
“Have you noticed an increase in activity?” she asked, wondering about a possible connection. In Palm Cove, stolen cars tended to be more midpriced than high-end, but still, people weren’t happy when their mode of transportation disappeared. Worse, when the vehicle was found after a wreck, the owner had impound and insurance hassles ahead of them.
“There’s a small uptick.”
“Okay, well, I’ll keep you informed if I learn anything helpful.”
“Great. So, ah, are you attending the Maniacal Mudder charity run this weekend at Soldier Park?”
“I don’t think so.” She tried to attend police benefits in the surrounding cities, but didn’t always make every one, especially those that included running. Or mud. Who got enjoyment out of scaling obstacles while trying to keep their balance sprinting through a world of wet dirt? Her colleagues loved the challenge, but it made her shudder. The idea of landing face-first in a puddle of goop, losing her glasses and trying to blindly make it to the finish line gave her nightmares. She’d considered it once, when Dante taunted her about tagging along, but wisely chose to stay on the sidelines in the end. She was a much better cheerleader than participant.
“If you change your mind, maybe we can form a team. It’s not too late to sign up.”
Team up? Did he know her? She was anything but athletic.
“Sorry, Tom. I’m going to pass.”
“But you are going?”
“Um... I’ll try.”
“Then we can hang out. There’s a barbecue after the run.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She noticed a movement from the corner of her eye. The lieutenant ushered Dante into his office while Dante briskly knotted his tie before entering the room.
“Listen, I need to run. We’ll talk another time.”
“Sure. Ah, have a good day.”
“I will.”
She hung up, her attention already focused on the drama sure to play out on the other side of the office door. Brandy rolled over in a chair from a nearby desk.
“It’s gonna hit the fan now.” She practically squealed in delight. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall.”
So would Eloise, not that she’d admit it out loud.
Having previously seen Dante’s face when the lieutenant spoke to him, reading his body language had become second nature to her. Not only because of the annoying attraction, ugh, but because she always thought Dante made a good cop. If he could temper his restlessness, that is. He was smart, but he couldn’t stand still to save his life. Was it a lifelong problem? Was he one of those guys who craved an adrenaline rush? Questions like that popped into her head from time to time, especially when he got himself into hot water with the commanding officers. And he and Chambers were definitely oil and water.
“Do you think he’ll suspend Dante?”
Eloise hoped not. He was too valuable on the job, when he wasn’t making rash decisions. “I have no idea.”
“Desk duty?”
“He’s already on that.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not going to guess.” She met Brandy’s gaze. “And you shouldn’t, either. It’s none of our business.”
Brandy pouted. “Can’t help it. Office politics have always intrigued me.”
“Don’t you have a crime scene to investigate?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I was hoping to hold off a few more minutes to see the outcome.”
Eloise held back an eye roll. “If you don’t leave now, someone will report you.”
“Not Sam,” Brandy said, referring to the patrolman currently working the same case as Brandy. “He likes me.”
“Not if his job is on the line.”
“True.” Brandy stood and rolled the chair back. “Let me know what happens.”
As if she’d be privy to the details. Dante could be very closemouthed when need be.
She watched Brandy hurry away, reminded that she had plenty of calls of her own to make. If she wanted to get the promotion, she needed to worry about herself, not the meeting going on in the lieutenant’s office.
* * *
“YOU NEARLY COST us on your last assignment, Matthews.”
“I went over it with you. It was unexpected. Stone caught on when he saw the police cruiser stopped outside the house. It was either reveal the op early or lose it all.”
“You know the only saving grace is the fact that the sheriff’s department has an ongoing investigation with related drug dealers.”
“Trust me, I get it.”
The lieutenant sent him a steely glance. “Do you?”
Not again. Every time something went off script, Chambers came down on him like a hammer to a nail. The undercover investigation had been right on target, until the rookie had forced Dante to make a snap decision. It was like Chambers got enjoyment out of making him squirm.
“I know the other team on this case. They’ll tie the entire ring together. With the information I acquired, these guys will go away for a long time.”
Chambers merely grunted in agreement.
Dante’s knee started jumping. He forced pressure on it with his hand to keep the lieutenant from noticing.
“That’s not why I called you in here.”
But you couldn’t resist mentioning it yet again, Dante thought.
“With the possibility of a future undercover case coming your way, I need to know I can rely on you to keep your cool and get the job done.”
“You know I always follow protocol, sir.”
“And your idea of protocol is improvising?”
Why did this conversation not seem different from the one they’d started out with?
“I’ll be honest, I’m worried about you, Matthews. How many undercover operations have you been part of in the last year?”
“Three.”
“And while two have been successful, I wonder if it’s too much.”
Okay, taking down high-risk criminals was intense work. Pretending to be someone other than himself for extended periods of time took a toll. He’d learned to conceal the fear or anxiety in a dicey situation, while reveling in the adrenaline rush during a bust. He had no problem arresting the bad people under surveillance when the time came. It was the innocent bystanders who were pulled into a criminal lifestyle by association or relationships that did a number on his head. Undercover jobs weren’t for everyone, but it worked for Dante.
“I think you should sit out the next assignment. Handle more routine calls coming into the department.”
Dante controlled his annoyance by staring at the family picture of Chambers, his wife and kids displayed on a credenza behind the desk. Family. It’s what got him into law enforcement in the first place, a love-hate relationship he dealt with daily.
“Is this coming from you or higher up?” he finally asked.
“A mutual decision.”
He nodded. At least he wasn’t suspended, or worse. He’d made a mistake. Would take his lumps, even if it meant the dreaded desk duty.
“Is that all?”
“One last question.”
Dante swallowed a sigh.
“Do you wish to move up in your career?”
Unexpected. Chambers had never discussed Dante’s career path before. “Move up, sir?”
“You do know we need to fill the sergeant position.”
“Everyone knows.”
“You passed the exam. It’s been brought to my attention that a supervisory position might be a good move for you.”
The sergeant job? Yeah, it sounded appealing, but with his rep, he doubted he’d be in the running. And he doubly doubted Chambers wanted him in the position.
“Think about it,” the lieutenant said, rising, which Dante took as his cue to end the meeting.
“I will. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
As Dante closed the door behind him, he yanked at his tie. The conversation with Chambers set his mind in motion and the idea of being weighed down in paperwork didn’t thrill him. Would there be reams more if he made sergeant? A definite check in the con list.
He’d just settled in his chair when Eloise caught his eye. She was busy writing something on a yellow legal pad. No doubt jotting down notes on a case or for a trial. She was organized that way. Making sure to cross all her t’s and dot all her i’s. Had mad computer skills he lacked. But there was an air of uncertainty about her that he understood. It made him want to coax a smile out of her. She took everything in life so seriously, not even recognizing his teasing until they were well into a conversation. Calling her Ellie was just icing on the cake. He knew it rattled her and thought it might secretly please her.
Beneath her starched, professional persona, she possessed a determination that impressed him. He’d noticed it a few months back when they’d disagreed on a certain department policy. Most colleagues gave him wide berth. Not Ellie. She stated her reasoning, concise and to the point, and he took notice, real notice, of her for the first time.
And why that mattered, he couldn’t say. Just knew he liked her. Admired her dedication to the job. Along with her knowledge. She had a way of catching his eye and kept him looking. What else was hidden in those still waters?
She closed a file and tapped it on her desk to even the edges. A satisfied smile curved her lips until she glanced across the room and their gazes collided. Behind her glasses, coffee-brown eyes widened. Her cheeks turned pink. He found himself wondering if she dated and, if so, what kind of guy she went for. When she turned away, he knew his procrastinating had come to an end. With Chambers breathing down his neck, he needed to get some work done.
Her phone rang, and after a short conversation, she grabbed her bag and left.
The afternoon dragged on during his stint working the front desk. Hating every minute of being confined, it irked him that he answered the phone but couldn’t go on any calls. He took a break to pour himself some coffee, hoping caffeine would give him a much-needed jolt. Maybe he’d see which guys were participating in the mud run or engage in some office gossip to perk himself up. When he went back to the squad room, he noticed Ellie had returned.
Mug in hand, he sauntered to her desk. Leaned against the side.
“Heard you’re going to the mud run.”
Her head jerked up. “What? Who told you that?”
“Mason. Said he heard it from some guy over at the Palm Beach PD.”
“Well, he heard wrong. I have no intention of running in mud.”
“Chicken?”
Her eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Sane.”
“It could be fun.”
“Says who?”
Her horrified look had him chuckling. “I’ll take that as a definite no.”
“Because my first answer was unclear?”
“Touchy.”
She blinked at him. “Bleary-eyed.”
“Guess my wrangling you into reviewing my reports is moot.”
“I can’t provide information I have no knowledge of.”
“That’s right, we’ve never worked on a case together.” He took a sip of the bitter coffee and grimaced. “Although that might change. I’ll be around more often.”
“No new exciting cases?”
He shrugged. “Not for me. For a while, anyway.”
“So you hone your detective skills in the meantime.”
“Saying I’m rusty?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never worked with you.”
She’d used his words against him. He held up his mug and grinned.
“Not that I’ve asked not to be paired with you.”
“I never thought you did.”
She relaxed.
Add nice person to the mental list he’d been making about her earlier.
“How come you never go out with your fellow officers after work?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know. I’m not a terribly social person.”
“Why is that?”
She shoved her glasses up her nose. A nervous tick he’d noticed.
“Not good company, I guess.”
“Then why is a Palm Beach detective interested in you?”
Her mouth gaped open. “Why would you think that?”
“Because he told Mason.”
“Good grief,” she muttered under her breath, then met his gaze again. “I think work relationships are better left at work.”
Interesting. History there?
“Fair enough.”
The conversation lagged for a few moments. Ellie glanced at a clock on the wall. “I need to head out.”
“You never answered me about dinner tonight. Two colleagues discussing work over a burger and fries?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but thank you.”
She stood, gathered her purse and slid the chair up to the everything-in-its-place desk. He wanted to mess it up and see her reaction. Instead, he moved aside as she passed, her light floral perfume following in her wake. “See you tomorrow.”
“’Bye.”
He returned to his desk, a little disappointed. He would have loved to wrangle the truth of why she avoided work relationships out of her, but not tonight. He settled back in and, to his surprise, finished the last of his tasks in no time.
An hour later he ran along the broad sidewalk in Soldier Park that was situated parallel to the ocean, loud, headbanging music keeping pace with his stride. After a day of being mostly cooped up, he needed to get rid of the excess energy. Running had always been a way to do just that.
Or cars. Tinkering with an engine always grounded him. He never understood why, just accepted the gift. Working on cars had not only given him focus, but he’d spent the best times of his life working alongside his dad. It was the one thing they’d had in common. And growing up with three older brothers, it was also the one thing he didn’t have to fight and scratch for to get his father’s attention. His bothers preferred other activities.
Coming to the end of his run, he slowed down. The sun was setting. The early-spring temperatures were still cool for Florida, but in the next months the thermometer would begin to inch up to the ninety-degree days of summer. Dante would have to get up at dawn to handle the heat while he ran, but it beat going to the gym. Just wasn’t the same as getting out in the fresh air, charging past couples out walking their dogs or parents playing with their kids at the playground.
He stopped the iPod and yanked out his earbuds. Instead of raging guitars, the water crashing onto the shore greeted his ears. He gazed out over the undulating water, taking a deep breath. Salty with a mix of suntan lotion. Sunset, his favorite time of the day. He found peace watching the sun disappear from the sky, dragging streaks of pinks and oranges fading to purple with it, until the sky went black.
He loved it here in Palm Cove. His brothers, Derrick and Deke, worked in different states, and Dylan, on the opposite coast of Florida. When Dylan found himself falling in love during a case, their mother had decided to move to be closer to the only woman who, she was certain, would ever be a possible daughter-in-law. Jasmine Matthews knew how to lay on a guilt trip just as her boys knew how to sidestep her tactics. It was a game they played, more so since their father had died. Mom needed a hobby and acting like her world would end if she didn’t have daughters and grandbabies worked for her.
A smile crossed his lips. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed her number.
“Dante. It’s been nearly a month,” his mother accused in way of greeting.
“I was undercover. I told you and Dylan.”
“Dylan’s been busy chasing after criminals. You boys need to give me better details.”
“We can’t always do that.”
“Please.” She tsked. “Your father always did.”
Dante knew that wasn’t the case. Daryl Matthews had been on the force for thirty-five years. There was no way he told his wife everything.
“I was just thinking about Dad.”
Her voice softened. “A good memory?”
“Cars.”
She laughed. “You two did have fun. How’s the Cobra?”
The ’65 Mustang he was currently retooling. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything my boys tell me.”
Which was eerily true.
“Still tinkering, but I decided to paint it red.”
“Racy choice. Your father would have approved.”
Would he? In Dante’s choice of car color or career choice?
“Something troubling you?” she asked with her weird mom ESP vibe.
“Not really. I had a conversation at work today about my career. Not sure how I feel about it.”
“Since when have you not been able to make a decision? All my sons are very professional when it comes to law enforcement. I’m proud of each and every one of you, but out of the bunch, I worry about you most.”
He hesitated. Asked the question he’d never wanted to broach with his mom, but now seemed like a good time. “You don’t like me going undercover?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a few sleepless nights when I know you’re on a case.” The hesitancy in her voice made his chest clutch. “I may not know the particulars, but I know the situations you’re investigating can’t be good. Or safe.”
“I wonder sometimes if I could handle a job that required me to sit behind a desk more. It doesn’t seem natural.”
Jasmine laughed. “You never were one to be happy indoors.”
“Is moving up the ladder part of growing up? Dylan’s arrest rate at the DEA is impressive. Derrick has made a name for himself at the FBI and Deke is a well-respected forensic investigator. They’ve made great strides in their careers.” He tamped down the envy that threatened to bring him to his knees when he considered his brothers’ successes. He loved them; he just had a hard time following in their footsteps. “I guess I just never put a lot of emphasis on moving ahead in my career until now.”
“Then the question you need to ask yourself is, can you do the job?”
He thought about the sergeant’s test he’d passed. Studying had been excruciating, but he’d needed to prove to himself that he could do better than being the pesky kid brother who had to find inventive ways to keep up with his siblings.
He rolled his shoulders as he considered the question. Settled with, “I’m sure I could.”
“Okay, then ask yourself this. Do you want the job?”
He thought about his brothers again. Would he take a promotion just to be like them? To carry on the Matthews tradition to serve and protect? Or would he take a promotion, if it was offered, because he wanted the job?
“Guess I need to sleep on it.”
“Dante, whatever you decide to do in life, know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Your father would be, too.”
He swallowed hard. His father had supported him, but had also tried to temper Dante’s reckless streak when he was growing up. Tried to find activities Dante would find interest in to keep him out of trouble. And told his son it might cost him something he desperately wanted one day if he didn’t learn to control himself. Could a promotion be what he wanted? It certainly would have made his late father proud. Could he do it? The idea was planted in his brain now and he’d puzzle over it until he came up with an answer.
His mother broke into his thoughts. “When am I going to see you?”
“Maybe I can get over in the next week or two.”
“Don’t be a stranger. There’s this cute waitress who works at the local outdoor restaurant I’ve fallen in love with. She’d be perfect for you. I think—”
“Mom, I gotta run. Work might be calling me.”
“Might be? Dante Matthews—”
“Love you. Talk to you soon.”
Dante ended the call before his mother had him talked into calling this woman and asking her out on a date, sight unseen. He hoped Dylan got engaged soon, just to take the pressure off.
As he jogged back to his truck, he thought about work decisions, which then triggered visions of Ellie. Her lovely smile when she let her guard down. The deep brown of her eyes. She intrigued him, that’s for sure, which was odd, since she wasn’t his type. He went for women who were more put together in the looks department. Not that Eloise wasn’t pretty; she just hid behind the glasses, tightly pulled back hair and severe clothing choices. But his mother would love her.
Reason enough not to pursue the interest he’d discovered in her. He could already hear his mom humming the wedding march.
CHAPTER TWO (#ub20c2a39-4475-5acd-a590-3d97380e9bdd)
“HEY, ELLIE. WAIT UP.”
Eloise ignored the jolt to her heart and turned to find Dante racing through the parking lot the next morning. The sun was shining, the temperature hovered in the midseventies and Dante was calling her name. Did life get any better? She took a breath and kept her voice level. “What’s up?”
The bright morning light lifted the multiple shades of brown in his unruly hair. Dark sunglasses shaded his eyes, but not the cocky curve of his lips.
“I just found out we’re short a person for the mud run on Saturday.”
“That’s too bad.” Adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder, she was disappointed by his statement, though why, she couldn’t explain. She headed for the building.
“It won’t be if you’d join us.”
“I already told you, not interested.”
“See, here’s the thing. We haven’t lost a challenge to another PD in two years and we can’t lose now. We need you.”
She stopped. Faced him. Tamped down her annoyance.
“I can’t help you.”
“Sure you can. All you do is say yes, throw on clothes you don’t care about getting dirty and show up at the obstacle course at eight on Saturday morning.” He paused. “It’s for charity.”
Even though she stayed physically fit to keep up with the demands of the job and policy of the department, she wasn’t very fast. Or accurate. “Dante, trust me, no one wants me on their team.”
“I do.”
She wished she could read his eyes. Was he serious? Merely taunting her?
“I’m sorry, Dante. The answer is still no.”
She’d turned and had taken two steps along the blacktop when she heard, “Bawk, bawk, bawk.”
She whirled around. “Did you just make chicken noises at me?”
He shrugged. “If the chicken feet fit...”
“I don’t have chicken feet. And I’m not scared.”
“What, then?”
Oh, now he was taunting her. Her temper rose and she blurted, “Uncoordinated.”
Dante calmly walked to her. “Hey, it’s not my intention to upset you, but we really need you. We can’t find anyone else.”
“Be still my heart. Picked for a team last again.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just... It’s a team effort. You’re part of our team. Palm Cove PD, that is. We’d be honored to have you.”
Now he was laying it on thick. “There’s absolutely no one else available?”
“We need one more woman to even out the team. And even though you’ve expressed your displeasure at being part of the team, I’m hoping you’ll reconsider.” As backpedaling went, it wasn’t much, but the chagrined expression on his face granted him points. Even more points for actually listening to her. He wanted her to join despite her refusal.
“I’ve never done anything like a mud race before.”
“You come and do the best you can.”
She did want to feel accepted, be part of something bigger than herself. She’d forever been the odd person out. Vowed one day she’d change that status. Could it start with something as dirty as a mud run?
She pushed up her glasses. “You’re 100 percent certain you need me?”
He flashed her one of his charming grins. “Absolutely.”
Not sure if it was the team angle or Dante’s interest, but she nodded.
“Great. See you Saturday,” he said, then took off as if afraid she might back out if he hung around.
Which made her want to kick herself. She had three days to get ready. Well, today was already busy with follow-up interviews in ongoing cases, which essentially left her with two days. What was wrong with her?
Marching inside the building, she stopped short when Brandy ran up to her. “Something major’s going on.”
Holding up her hand to ebb the flow of information, she stalled by storing her purse in her desk drawer and pouring a much-needed mug of coffee. Brandy, nearly dancing with impatience to fill her ear with the latest news, was clearly ready to burst.
After a bracing sip of the supremely awful coffee, Eloise faced her friend. “This is a police department. Something is always going on. What makes today different?”
“There’s a rippling in the atmosphere. Plus, Chambers has been upstairs for over an hour.”
“He goes up a couple of times a week to meet with the chief.”
“I heard from the chief’s secretary that the sergeant position is a priority. Like the decision has to be made pronto.”
Eloise set the mug on her desk. Smoothed her black dress pants and straightened the collar on her white blouse while trying to contain her excitement. Would the chief of police seriously consider her?
“I don’t suppose you heard who the likely candidates are?”
“No. That information is being monitored, even more closely guarded than the gold at Fort Knox.”
Eloise blinked. Following Brandy’s thought process was like participating in a Ping-Pong match. If she wasn’t careful, she might get mental whiplash. Thankfully her friend was more focused when on the job.
“I can’t imagine there are that many choices. As far as I know, Dante and I are the only ones who have recently taken the test.”
Brandy’s lips curved. “Exactly.”
“You think...both of us?”
“Who else?”
Eloise sank down into her chair, her chest suddenly tight.
She knew it was a possibility they’d both be in the running. Although, when she’d learned Dante had taken the civil test, she’d been surprised. He’d never expressed a desire to be in a more supervisory role. Not that they’d had any lengthy conversations about their desired career paths or, let’s face it, lengthy conversations about anything much at all. She was lucky they got through their daily hellos. The man didn’t share his personal life with anyone that she knew of; why would he announce his professional career path to the entire department? Maybe it was because of the undercover life he’d adopted to so well. Keeping secrets, and his intentions, close to the vest.
Great. Did she have to worry about competition for the job? They were both qualified, and not to toot her own horn, but she was better suited for the position. But it didn’t matter what she thought. That decision came from those with a higher pay grade.
“Let’s not jump the gun here,” she reasoned. “Who even says they’ll promote someone from this station?”
“Why bring a new person from the outside when we have qualified candidates in this very building? Besides, anyone who knows you can’t argue about how awesome you’d be.”
The pressure in Eloise’s chest eased. “Thanks for the boost of confidence.”
“You have to get the job. For the sisterhood.”
Eloise laughed. “The sisterhood, huh?”
“Seriously. We have to stick together. It’s bad enough we work in a male-dominated field. We have the added pressure of proving ourselves every day.”
As Brandy sauntered away, Eloise considered her words. Her friend spoke the truth. The women working here did prove themselves daily, but for Eloise, this was nothing new. She’d been proving herself her entire life. First, to parents who hadn’t been thrilled when she came along, leaving her pretty much to her own devices while growing up. Their academic careers came first and, as much as it hurt, had been a sterling example of the work ethic she’d adopted from the start of her career.
She’d tried to fit in, at college and on the job, but there was always something keeping her from fully joining in. Letting herself go. Something protecting that little girl who’d longed for the love of her parents and acceptance of others.
Shaking off the direction of her thoughts, she looked up when she sensed someone at her desk. Dante, holding out a slip of paper.
“Patrol called in trouble at Parson’s Auto Mall.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Stolen vehicles. Damage.”
She stood and reached for her badge and a small wallet holding her ID and driver’s license. “Are you coming?”
“No. Still on house arre—I mean, desk duty.”
She would have smiled if his disgruntled expression wasn’t so fierce. Sitting on the sidelines had to be killing him.
“I wrote down the address for you.”
“Thanks,” she said as she took the paper, not really needing the address. Palm Cove was small enough that finding the major dealership wasn’t a problem. When Dante didn’t move, she asked, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just a little distracted today.”
Did she dare ask if he’d heard about Chambers’s meeting up in the chief’s office? No, she wouldn’t go there. Instead she said, “Sorry you’re stuck here all day.”
“Hopefully Chambers gets tired of seeing me around all the time and puts me back in the field.”
“You could bring him coffee. Ask him if he wants to talk about his day, what’s up with his family and then, if things are going especially well, ask if he wants to talk about his feelings.”
Dante shuddered. “As much as you meant that as a joke, if the guy doesn’t lighten up soon, I might resort to your suggestion.”
“Oh, let me know if you do. I want to stand by the door and listen to every word.”
“I’ll blame you.”
“Go for it,” she said as she walked away. “But he won’t believe that you and I ever had this conversation.”
His chuckle came from behind her, making her smile. Neither of them was very chatty with Chambers, but at least she’d lifted his spirits.
“Heading out to the auto mall?” Brandy asked as Eloise passed her desk.
“Yes. You, too?”
“I am,” she said, gathering her equipment.
“Want to ride together?”
“Sounds good.”
Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the dealership. A patrolman stood by the front door of the glass-enclosed showroom, speaking to an agitated middle-aged man.
“Mr. Parson?” Brandy guessed as they walked his way.
“Looks like him.” The dealership had two major billboards on the highway just outside town, prominently featuring the owner.
The patrolman noticed them and excused himself.
“Hi, Officer Stevens,” Eloise greeted him.
“Archer. Cummings.” He nodded in their direction. “Got the call when Mr. Parson arrived this morning. Two cars in the lot were stolen.” He pointed to his left. “The perps used bolt cutters to breach the perimeter fence and gain access to the property. Focused on taking two newly delivered cars.”
“I’ll go talk to the owner,” Eloise said, then to Brandy, “You can get started.”
“Follow me to the location,” the officer said.
Concentrating on the task at hand, Eloise went inside the bright, shiny showroom. Noticed the pervading scent of rubber and oil mixed with air freshener. Four cars were featured: two sporty models she couldn’t name, an SUV and a four-door sedan. New models. All high-end.
“Mr. Parson,” she said when the owner approached her. “I’m Detective Archer.”
“These car thefts are getting out of hand. This is the second time in six months.”
“I understand your frustration. Believe me, we’re concerned about the problem.”
He ran a hand over the sparse hair on his nearly bald head. “The cars were just delivered yesterday. I didn’t even have time to get them on the showroom floor. It’s like someone knew where the new arrivals were parked.”
“Do you have security camera footage covering the entire lot?”
“Yes. Over here.”
Parson muttered under his breath while leading her to an office on the back side of the showroom. A young woman, twentysomething, Eloise surmised, rushed to his side. “Mr. Parson, I have the insurance company on the line.”
“Give me a minute, Stacy.” He glanced at Eloise. “My office manager.”
She nodded. Once in the room complete with security screens covering different angles of the property, and what smelled like a greasy breakfast sandwich and coffee, Mr. Parson introduced her to Jerry, a security guard, and said, “I’ll be right back.”
Jerry sat back, the chair protesting under his girth. Crumpling up the food wrapper, he tossed it across the room to the trash can, missing his mark. Unconcerned, he clicked a mouse stationed beside his computer keyboard. “Got what ya need right here.”
“Did you go through the footage from last night?”
“Yep.”
“Can you show me where the stolen cars were located?”
“Sure, but you won’t see much. Was like the guys knew where the cameras were mounted. Made sure to face the opposite direction.”
He pulled up the footage in question. Sure enough, two people—young men, she thought—appeared on screen, their faces obscured by hoodies. One held a device in his hands, most likely a wireless code grabber that intercepted signals sent by remote keyless entry devices. Recording the code prior to trespassing on the property, it was then used to unlock the car doors. Once they’d cleared that hurdle, the vehicles started, and soon they were speeding away. As they moved into darkness, the image grew grainy, but she noticed a bright white slash on the back of one of the jackets.
Jerry pointed to another screen. “The gate barring entrance to the lot after-hours was tampered with and moved.”
Explained the easy getaway.
“The main question is, how did they get the key codes? From the office?” Eloise wondered out loud.
“Impossible. Mr. Parson has always been careful with the keys, but after the last theft, he’s even more diligent. I personally see that the keys are stored so that no one can hack ’em.”
Hmm. Obviously someone had. Here or elsewhere?
Eloise asked a few more questions and made notes. Arranged to get a copy of the video sent to the department. This motive didn’t follow the thefts they’d been experiencing with joyriding kids. It amazed her how often owners left a vehicle running to dash inside a store or business or leave an unlocked car in the driveway with the key left in the console. Ripe picking for a kid looking to car-hop. Not the case here. This was deliberate, a well-planned get-in-get-out before the authorities arrive.
She asked a few more questions, then went back to the dealership owner, who had returned to the showroom floor, talking in urgent tones to a salesman.
“Anything else you can tell me, Mr. Parson?”
“Only that somehow these thugs knew I had a delivery scheduled.”
“Are new vehicles brought in on a regular schedule?”
“No, for this exact reason.”
“Any way one of your employees could have passed the delivery information along?”
“There’s only a handful who know the particulars. Stacy Monroe, my wife and my general manager.”
“Is the manager here?”
“No. On vacation. He’ll be back next week.” Mr. Parson’s phone blared. “I need to take this.”
“And your wife?” Eloise asked quickly.
“At home. This is her calling now.”
Pivoting on her heel, Eloise searched for the main office. She found Stacy, a pretty brunette, hanging up the phone, tears in her eyes. “This is terrible.” She swiped a tissue from the box and blotted her eyes. “I’ve been in line for the office manager job for months and when I finally get the position this happens.”
“Do you have something to be worried about?”
Stacy’s eyes went wide. “No, I just mean that we all take this personally.”
“Did you mention yesterday’s delivery to anyone?”
“Of course not.”
“How do you think the thieves knew to go right to the new cars?”
Her chin went up. “I wouldn’t know.”
Upset and defensive. Did Stacy know more than she let on? Or had she messed up somehow and was worried about keeping her job?
“And all the keys are accounted for?”
“Yes.” She grabbed a fancy, square key ring featuring an imprint of some kind of animal on it, passed Eloise in a haze of strong perfume that made her sneeze and unlocked a large wall safe. Inside, key fobs hung from individual hooks, along with corresponding numbers she assumed went with the car the key belonged to. “They were locked up last night.”
And no one had broken into the office or safe. Didn’t matter since the cars were gone, but Eloise had to follow her line of questioning.
“Look.” Stacy sniffled. “I need this job. I wouldn’t risk it by getting involved with stolen cars.”
Until Eloise did a background check on the woman, she’d have to accept her word, but something was off here. Taking a card from the holder on Stacy’s desk, Eloise said, “If I have any more questions I’ll contact you.”
Stacy nodded, then hustled back to the desk when the phone rang. Eloise asked other employees more questions, finally heading to her car once she was satisfied she’d spoken to each person who could supply viable information.
Brandy stood by the sedan. “Finished?”
“For now. Ready to return to the department?”
As Eloise drove, her mind went over the statements she’d taken. No one knew anything. Couldn’t account for the thieves discovering the delivery date. Right now she had lots of questions that would take days to answer.
She and Brandy had just entered the squad room when Lieutenant Chambers caught her attention and motioned for her to come to his office. Thinking he wanted an update, she grabbed her notes and hurried over, stopping short when she saw Dante seated in one of the two chairs before Chambers’s desk.
“Have a seat, Detective.”
Eloise lowered herself, glancing at Dante for a hint of explanation as to what had precipitated the meeting. His expressionless face told her nothing.
“I called you both in here for two reasons.” He met her gaze. “Detective Archer, that call you took this morning. Did it look like our teen car problem?”
“No, sir. It was too deliberate. Too planned out.”
He nodded. “The dealership in Palm Cove isn’t the only one to be hit in recent months. Even dealers like Marcus King, with car lots in multiple cities, are being affected. Intel leads us to believe there’s a ring operating locally. We need to find it and put a stop to their activity.”
“What did you have in mind?” Dante asked, interest lighting his eyes.
“Matthews, I need you to go undercover again.”
Dante sat straighter in the chair.
“With your interest in restoring cars, you have an in. One of our officers, already undercover on a different case, reported unusual activity at an automotive shop under surveillance. We’d like you to infiltrate. We’re hoping this leads you to the ringleader.”
“Does this officer have an in?”
“Yes. You’ll pose as his cousin. He’ll give his seal of approval to secure you a job there.”
Dante nodded. “When do I start?”
“Monday. You’ll be briefed today about the garage in question, as well as the owner, who’s a potential suspect.” He paused a beat. “You won’t be going alone.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t want a hint of failure like last time. I’m sending another detective in with you.”
“To keep an eye on me?”
Eloise tightly gripped her notebook as the tension in the room accelerated.
“To make sure this operation is carried out to satisfaction.”
Dante’s jaw worked but he didn’t respond.
“In order to make this plausible, we’re going to set you up as a married man. Just a guy looking to support his family. A wife in the picture makes you less suspicious.”
“And who is this wife going to be?”
No, Eloise thought. No, no, no.
“Detective Archer.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned under her breath.
* * *
DANTE GLANCED TO his left. Eloise? They were partnering him with Eloise?
“Are you sure, sir? Detective Archer hasn’t had any undercover experience.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll show her the ropes. She’s a smart woman. She’ll catch on quick.”
“I don’t think—”
“It doesn’t matter what you think, Matthews. You work with her or you don’t get the case.”
Eloise? How on earth was he supposed to work the case and train her at the same time? Prove to the brass that he wasn’t going to screw up this investigation?
“If I may,” Eloise cut in.
Chambers nodded.
“I might not be experienced, but I can certainly be an asset.” She sent Dante a sideways look. Annoyance glittered in her eyes.
“I agree. You’re a fast learner, Archer. And you’re more than competent. While Matthews works at the shop and uncovers information there, you can work the technical end. We’ll have a computer station set up at the house you two will be sharing. You’ll be doing background checks, monitoring security once Matthews is employed at the shop and working the rest of your magic with a computer.”
Wait. The house they’d be sharing?
“You’ve already closed cases involving car theft, Archer. You know how serious this is. The call you took this morning proves that the problem is getting bigger. As you said, this was a professional job. This group is organized and has insider information. We need that information, as well as to find out how they are altering VINs and bills of sale successfully. Where are the stolen cars going? It’s a big deal.”
“I appreciate you needing the technical end, sir,” Eloise was saying, “but I’d like to be more visible.”
“That’s why you two will blend into the neighborhood we’re setting you up in. Be active. The whole point it to collect viable intel on the car ring. We need to know participants, specific delivery schedules, dealerships they plan to hit, and at the top of the list? The name of the boss behind the ring, without your neighbors knowing exactly who you are.”
Dante cleared his throat. “And who are we exactly?”
“Dan and Ellie Smith.”
Dante heard another quiet groan escape his new partner. A good rule of thumb when undercover was to use a variation of your real name so you wouldn’t get mixed up during the op. She was going to hate this.
“From the intel we’ve received, whoever is running this ring is good at hiding their identity. We need a name. Then we stop him.”
“Are the feds involved?” Dante asked.
“As of right now, no. Far as we can tell, the stolen cars have not crossed any state’s border.”
“Then we focus locally.”
“Yes. I want this one, Matthews. Archer has a good head on her shoulders. Listen to her.”
He glanced in her direction. She kept her chin up, facing the lieutenant. What was she thinking about all this?
“Moving on to the next item of business. Chief Perkins and I have been discussing possible candidates for the sergeant position. Both of your names have come up in consideration.”
He turned his head and met Eloise’s gaze. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it.
“You both have strengths that would work for the position. You both passed the civil test, and even though we haven’t officially interviewed you, we know both of you well enough to determine you’re ready for a promotion.”
Dante planted his feet on the ground to keep from jittering. As much as he’d told his mother he wasn’t sure about taking the position, he discovered he wanted it. Badly. Enough to battle Eloise over it? Yep. Did that make him a bad guy?
“The two of you pairing up as partners works to our advantage. We’ll watch how you handle the investigation, your decision making, how you interact with each other. Then we’ll decide who moves ahead at this time.”
Eloise squared her shoulders. She wanted the job. It was written all over her. She was a good detective. Probably a better administrator than he. But he knew his fellow officers. Could be a better supervisor. Office management could be learned as he went along.
“You’ll both report for a briefing in an hour. Dismissed.”
Eloise hightailed it out of the room. He had to jog to keep up with her.
“Ellie. Slow down.”
She spun around. “Not Ellie. Not now.”
He followed her to her desk. Voices carried around them from officers busy at work, but when he noticed curious eyes on them, he realized the tension around himself and Eloise alerted them that something was up. “Fine. When we start the operation.”
She stared back at him, her pretty brown eyes dark. “I want the promotion,” she stated.
“So do I,” he countered.
“I deserve it.”
“I could use the same argument.”
The thundercloud in her eyes still raged. “Then this puts us at odds.”
“Not during the operation, Eloise. It doesn’t work that way. We put all thought about the sergeant position aside when we become Dan and Ellie Smith. Otherwise we won’t fool anyone.”
“Fine, but I’ll be an equal partner. I won’t be your babysitter.”
“Harsh.”
“I’m a professional and I can do the job as well as you, even if I don’t have undercover experience.”
“But I do have the experience, Eloise. That’s the point.”
“And I have the research skills.”
“Exactly. We both have our strengths.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve never done this kind of op, where I had to pretend to be married. It’ll be a learning curve for both of us. Instead of battling each other, let’s promise to work together.”
Her gaze wavered. She was an intelligent woman. A savvy cop. She might not like his words, but she would accept the truth behind them.
“I can’t promise I’ll be a loving wife,” she said, voice lowered, still infused with irritation.
“I can honestly say I’ll probably make a lousy husband.”
She sighed, all pretense of anger gone. “What were they thinking?”
“That we’d make a good team?”
She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Wait till everyone finds out.”
It wouldn’t be long before the entire squad room discovered they’d been partnered together. He could imagine the remarks he’d have to fend off because this was Eloise he’d been teamed with. Upright and uptight, but smart and savvy.
“I meant what I said this morning. You’ll make a good team member,” he told her, trying to defuse the tension, but also honestly meaning it. She might not like sports a whole lot, but she was willing to try. She’d give her all when undercover. That went a long way in his book.
“That’s when you were talking about the mud run.”
“I was talking about being part of a team in general. I think I can trust you, Eloise.”
“Think?” she sputtered, her eyes hot again. “We’re going to pretend to be husband and wife, live in the same house, for Pete’s sake, and you think you can trust me?”
Jeez. This was getting out of hand. Didn’t bode well for his husbandly skills. “No. I will trust you.”
Her eyes blazed. “That’s right you will.”
“We’ll put moving ahead in our careers aside for sake of the investigation?”
“Yes. And once we’ve concluded the case, it’s game on.”
A small victory, he supposed, but he’d take it.
“Want to grab lunch?”
An are you kidding me? expression crossed her face.
“Work related,” he bit out.
“I suppose we could discuss the upcoming investigation.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “How we’ll work together to make this happen.”
She couldn’t help tossing the “we” in there.
“Good. It’s a date.”
Just when he thought he’d persuaded her—babysitter, really?—a whistle split the relative calm of the squad room. Dante looked over to see one of the officers send him a thumbs-up. “Promo’s yours, bro,” he said. Dante grimaced, almost afraid to face Eloise. He wouldn’t have if he wasn’t a Matthews, because Matthewses didn’t run from danger. So he turned toward her.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Eloise fumed. “This is insulting. I’ve worked hard to get where I am today. In two seconds, your friends over there have turned our vying for the sergeant’s job into the makings of a frat party.”
“Ignore them.”
She gaped at him. “And how do you suggest I manage that?”
Before he could pin down his suggestions, Brandy ran up to them, excitement streaming off her in waves. Now it was his turn to want to bolt.
“Mr. and Mrs. Smith?” she squealed. “Just like the movie.”
Just shoot me now.
Eloise sent him a wry look. “Ignore it, huh?”
“Yes. We have an important job to do. These clowns will be apologizing later when we make the biggest arrest in Palm Cove history.”
She raised a brow.
“Okay, a substantial bust. And we’ll do it together.”
She didn’t seem convinced. “Come on, let’s go. Lunch is calling.”
“Never mind. I have things I need to tie up here if we’re going to be out of the office for any length of time.”
Brandy shot him a victorious smile. “And she and I need to talk.” That said, she tugged Eloise’s arm.
Dante stopped her before she was pulled away. “This will work out, Eloise. We’ll be professional and aboveboard.”
The fire in her brown eyes warned him there might be fireworks ahead. Not that he minded an explosion every now and then. One way or another, he’d win her over.
CHAPTER THREE (#ub20c2a39-4475-5acd-a590-3d97380e9bdd)
HE HAD TO hand it to her. She’d shown up.
Dante had had his doubts, considering the grueling couple of days prepping their undercover stories and investigation strategy. Must have been the team loyalty he’d inspired in her. Either that or she planned on sticking it to him during the race. A smart man would keep his eye on her, and Mrs. Matthews didn’t raise no dummy.
Eloise stopped at the perimeter of the teams milling around prior to the race. Uncertainty wrinkled her brow. A slender finger pushed her glasses up her nose. Man, that got him every time. She tried to hide her vulnerability, but it was like he had radar. Probably because he could relate.
Growing up in the shadows of his older brothers, barreling through life, whether it was grabbing the last pancake on Sunday morning or making a sports team one of his brothers had already left his mark on, he found himself competing for their respect. Making a bigger splash to get noticed. Hating when they’d nicknamed him Pretty Boy. He couldn’t help his looks. It was genetics and he was more than that, if they’d notice. Hadn’t he carved out a career in law enforcement because he wanted to be like his father? Upheld the family tradition?
Someone slapped him on the back, jolting him from his jaunt down memory lane.
“Today’s the day we beat you, Matthews.”
“In your dreams, Johnson.”
His taunt was met with a laugh. Yeah. Palm Cove would show the other teams today. The race might be called Maniacal Mudder because of the challenging obstacles, but he and his teammates would show the other police departments a thing or two.
“This is worse than I imagined,” Eloise said as she joined him. “Maybe I can get a last minute doctor’s note and bow out.”
“People have seen you. Can’t leave now.”
“Just what I was afraid of.”
“C’mon over to the sign-in table.”
He waited until she fell into step beside him and led them through the crowd. Before long she’d stowed away her small backpack, had a cloth square with the number eighty-three pinned to the back of her T-shirt and slipped on the rubber wristband given to the runners.
“Guess this makes me official.” She rolled her shoulders and glanced around. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”
He made a swirly gesture toward her hair. “You might want a bandanna so if your hair gets loose it won’t get in your eyes.”
She worried her lower lip. “I didn’t bring one.”
“Got one in the car. Follow me.”
He led her to the ’65 Mustang. Hid a grin when her eyes went wide.
“Wow. That’s quite a car.”
“Been tinkering on it for a while. Decided to bring it out for a drive today.”
The two-seater looked sweet in the early-morning light. Or maybe he was jazzed to have taken it out for a spin, windows down, a fresh breeze blowing out the cobwebs after being cooped up all week.
“This is what Chambers meant when he mentioned your interest in restoring cars?”
“Yep.” He opened the door and leaned in to rummage through the glove box, pulling out a checkered square of cloth. “My dad and I logged a lot of hours working on cars like this. Mostly muscle cars. We’d restore and flip them.”
“A side business?”
“Not really. It was a reason to make time to be together.”
Her eyes took on a wistful gleam.
“How about you? Any hobbies you share with your folks?”
“Not unless you consider lecturing your daughter a hobby?”
Okay, then. He handed her the bandanna. “This should work.”
She took it, twisted it between her fingers.
“Don’t worry so much. This is going to be fun.” He nodded to the cloth. “Might help keep your glasses in place, too.”
Her fingers flew up to the arms of the glasses as she adjusted them. “Brought an old pair. Just in case.”
“You’ll do fine.”
Doubt and fear competed for prominence across her gentle features. Before he could stop and think about what he was doing, Dante laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. There was a spark from the connection. At her surprised glance, their eyes met and held. The deep, coffee-brown depths started his heart to hammering, which had nothing to do with the anticipation of the race and everything to do with the woman standing before him.
As if scalded, he jerked his hand back to his side. Eloise ducked her head. Uneasiness hovered between them.
“We should join the team,” he said finally.
They began to walk away when Eloise stopped.
“You forgot to lock your car.”
“No need.”
“Really? With all the auto thefts we investigate, you’re willing to take a chance?”
A slow grin curved his lips. “Never with my car.”
She waited for an explanation.
“One, I take my keys with me. Two, I disconnect the fuel cell. Even if someone tried to hot-wire my car—and with dozens of cops around that would be stupid—they wouldn’t get anywhere.”
She shrugged. “Your decision.”
He was about to defend himself when his phone rang. Yanking it from his pocket, he read the caller ID. His brother Dylan. “I need to take this.”
“I see Brandy. I’m going to talk to her.”
He watched her stroll away, shoulders hunched just a bit, before he tapped the green button. “Hey, bro. What’s up?”
“Got a minute?”
“Only. Getting ready to compete in a mud race.”
“A mud what?”
“You need to get out more.”
“Whatever. Listen, we have a problem with Mom.”
Unease skittered over his neck. “Is she okay?”
“Physically, she’s fine.” Dylan paused. Either for effect or composure. Knowing Dylan, the ultimate protector, Dante banked on the second.
“She’s dating.”
Dante blinked a few times. Had he heard Dylan right? “Dating?”
“As in going out with a guy who isn’t our father.”
“Our mother?”
“The only one we’ve got.”
Huh. She hadn’t mentioned this when he’d last talked to her. But then again, Jasmine Matthews could be cagey when she wanted to.
“In all fairness, our father is in the forever after.”
“Yes. But she’s dating.”
Dante and his brothers had talked about what they’d do if their mother ever decided to put herself out in the dating world again. Jasmine was in her late fifties. Young enough to find interest in another man. But growing up around his parents, seeing the depth of their devotion to each other, he and his brothers had been convinced she’d never take the plunge. Apparently they were mistaken.
“When did this start?”
“I just found out about it last night. Mom swore Kady to secrecy.”
Their mother had moved to Cypress Pointe, where Dylan was currently residing, to work with Dylan’s girlfriend, Kady, at her family’s floral shop.
“How could you let this happen?” Dante accused.
“Really? Have you met our mother? She has a mind of her own.”
No joke. Still... “Have you talked to her about this?”
“She told me to mind my own business,” Dylan answered gruffly.
Dante snorted. “Rich, coming from a woman who has made it her life’s mission to interfere in ours.” He shook his head. When their father had died, the brothers had promised each other to protect their mom, no matter the cost, and not let anything hurt her again, if they could help it. If this was one of those situations, they’d find any way possible to safeguard her. “Who is this guy?”
“She won’t say.”
“But being the dutiful son that you are, you found out, anyway, right?”
He paused. “She didn’t exactly confide in Kady, only mentioned a man in her life, and has refused to tell me his name.”
“But you’ll ferret it out of her, right?”
“You bet. She isn’t the only Matthews with mad interrogation skills.”
Dante didn’t doubt his brother for one second.
“Have you told Derrick and Deke?”
“Derrick laughed for about five minutes. Deke wanted to jump on the next plane home and start a search for the guy.”
“Well, I won’t add to your troubles by showing up. It’ll only make Mom clam up more.”
“Any chance you’ll be free in the coming days if we need a brotherly chat?”
Dante inhaled the smoky scent of the grill being prepared for the barbecue lunch. His stomach growled in anticipation. “Starting a new case on Monday. I’ll be undercover so I can’t make any promises. I can videoconference call with you guys if necessary.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know.” Dylan went quiet for a long-drawn-out moment. “This case dangerous?”
“Shouldn’t be.”
“Watch your back, Pretty Boy.”
Dante ground his back teeth before answering. “Got it under control.”
“I’ll keep you informed.”
Dante signed off, struggling to keep his cool between the Pretty Boy remark and the fact that their mother was keeping secrets from them. She’d never done that before, unless it was leverage to get him or his brothers to do her bidding. It had always been in fun, the Matthews family game, until now. He didn’t like it. Not one little bit. And he was sure his brothers felt the same way.
“You all right?” Eloise asked as she tentatively moved toward him.
He controlled the scowl he was sure would scare anyone away.
“Family drama.”
“Okay, well, the team is gathering for a pep talk before the race starts.”
He shook off his mood and strode toward her. “Lead the way.”
The group huddled together, speaking in low tones. Dante pushed forward, making room for Eloise beside him. He clapped his hands. “Are we ready?”
Everyone responded with a resounding yes, except Eloise.
“We’re going to follow one another in the staggered starts. Two each from our team at a time, as well as the other departments participating.” He glanced at Eloise. “There’s a chip in the wristband they gave you. At the end, we’ll see which team has the best time.”
He raised his hand, to which the team high-fived. “Good race, everyone.”
Eloise moved away, scanning the course set out before them. Her cute nose wrinkled in distaste. “Smells like soggy grass out here.”
“Makes the challenge more fun.”
The race announcer called the teams to the starting line.
“You’re running last,” Dante told Eloise. “You can watch us, get a feel for the course. If you have a hard time maneuvering an obstacle, one of your fellow runners will give you a hand.” He tried to read her face, but it had gone blank. “Ready?”
She looked at him. “Our team really holds the record?”
“So far.”
With a deep breath, Eloise squared her shoulders. “Okay. I can do this.”
Dante grinned. He couldn’t wait to watch.
* * *
THE ANNOUNCER PUMPED up the challengers with a rousing pep talk before lifting up the small, black device in his hand. A loud electronic beep sounded among the excited cries of runners, and they were off. Brandy stood beside Eloise as they watched, cute in a bright pink T-shirt and black running shorts, her thick hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Eloise had grabbed an old ratty shirt and a pair of baggy shorts she’d worn years ago when she was at the police academy. Hardly a fashion statement, but then...this was mud!
“I’m pumped,” Brandy gushed. “This is my second time in a mud race.”
“So it’s not awful?”
“Are you kidding? You’re going to have a blast.”
Eloise doubted it.
She’d studied the course description when she’d logged on to the race site online. Three miles, short by most mud race standards, with eight obstacles in all. They didn’t seem terribly daunting. The hardest part would be keeping her feet from getting sucked into a mudhole. Watching previous race videos to get an idea of what she’d encounter, she now stood before the real thing.
“What am I doing here?”
She had better things to focus on, like the details of her very first undercover operation. She’d made lists after the briefing, took care of personal business and started packing, even though they didn’t start until Monday. She would have liked to go over the official reports of previous car thefts today, try to find a pattern or similarities in the crimes, but that wasn’t happening. Even Lieutenant Chambers had been on board with her joining her fellow Palm Cove officers in the race. Being a team player would go a long way toward the promotion.
Glancing around, it seemed like everyone but Eloise was a competitor. If they’d entered a race on reading books, she bet she’d come in first every time.
The next group lined up, ready to take off. She caught sight of Dante, looking very athletic in a tight tank top and running shorts. His leg muscles, defined as he struck the starting pose, reminded Eloise that he liked to run. She shuddered. Running had never been her forte, her average times gumming her up at the academy, but she’d pushed herself because the goal of graduating was more important than the misery of running. Could she pull this off?
The beep sounded again and Dante, a mischievous grin on his face, took off. He cleared the first hurdle, hay bales lined up end to end along the width of the course, with very little effort, then sprinted. He reached up to grab the monkey bars at the next obstacle, swiftly moving hand over hand until he jumped off. After that, she lost sight of him.
Brandy turned to Eloise. “My group is up next.”
She ran off to join the others, leaving Eloise behind. Her heart quaked in her chest and she thought she might throw up. She should have stood her ground. Never let Dante taunt her into coming. But as much as she dreaded today, a part of her that had only dreamed of the opportunity was thrilled to be part of the group. After all the rejections in gym class growing up, years of hiding her embarrassment, being on this team meant the world to her. She had to do well, or they’d never ask her again.
Before she was mentally ready—would she ever be?—it was her group’s turn. She took her place, swallowed hard and, when the beep sounded, took off.
The hay bale wasn’t bad, a bit slippery since they’d been soaked with water prior to the race. Her team member reached the monkey bars before her. With an oomph, she jumped up and grabbed hold, dangling over the murky water below, wishing she had better upper body strength. She pulled herself, grunted—grunted!—and slowly made it across. So far so good, she thought.
She ran a distance before coming upon a large, shallow mud patch. Here, she would have to slither through the sludge on her knees and elbows, ducking under swinging plastic barrels overhead. Good Lord. Who came up with this torture?
She lowered herself, cringing when the cold mud slithered against her skin. She bonked her head, three times, but eventually made it through. Rising, she tried pulling the damp T-shirt from her skin, then decided to forget it. She had to keep moving.
“Hey, Eloise. Good job.”
She nearly tripped looking over her shoulder to see who’d called her name. Before she could find a familiar face, she ran right up to the next obstacle, walking over a single plank of wood that rather resembled a balance beam, above water.
“Center yourself,” she coached herself, stepping up, arms out to her sides for balance. She stopped once when she began to totter, throwing her shoulders back. Then she was off again.
The obstacles continued. She carried a long pole across her shoulders as she moved through a knee-deep pond, crawled through a dank-smelling tube and dashed over a hill with randomly placed buckets keeping her on a zany path, sprinting as fast as she could without losing breath between each obstacle. By now she barely noticed the warm, earthy smells, ignored her damp skin and clothing, not to mention her feet squishing in her sneakers. Then she came upon the final obstacle and stopped dead in her tracks.
An eight-foot wall, with cutout holes in the wood for the runners to scale up and over, loomed in her spotty image. She wiped the lenses on her glasses and gaped. No way.
“Get moving,” people from behind her yelled as they passed her. “You can do it.”
The chatter and hoots of laughter dimmed as she concentrated on the wall before her. Heart pounding, she ran to the wall, placing her feet in the lowest holes. Her soles were slippery and she promptly slid out. Grinding her teeth, she pressed down hard to keep purchase and lifted her arms to the cutouts above her. Slowly, she lugged herself to the top, wondering what her time could be. As she swung one leg over the peaked top, she could see the finish line in the distance. Along with the Palm Cove PD, standing on the sidelines to cheer on their team.
Dante stood out, waving his arms in encouragement. She gulped. Swung over the other leg. Looked down. Froze.
Was she supposed to jump?
Another participant handed her a rope. “Use this to get down.”
Breaking out of her scared stupor, she grabbed the muddy rope like a lifeline. Pushed herself off and tried to rappel down. Only her hands slipped—ouch, rope burn—and her feet slid down the wet wood. Next thing she knew she was sitting butt down in the mud, recovering from the jolt to her tailbone as people dashed around her.
“C’mon, Eloise, you can finish.”
She looked over to see Dante. He’d moved up the line to get a clear view of her sitting there. She’d done pretty good through the other obstacles. Why did he have to witness her ungainly fall now?
“Get up. You’re almost finished.”
She’d show Mr. Hotshot Matthews. With a sudden burst of energy, she rose, stumbled, then took off as fast as her shaky legs would carry her. Loud cries and applause greeted her at the end of the line.
She bent over once she knew she’d crossed, hands on her knees, heaving in great big gulps of air. Her heart beat overtime, her head hurt and her knees were red and skinned.
And what, exactly, did people find invigorating about this race?
A hand slapped her on her back. She rose, meeting Dante’s amused gaze.
“You survived.”
The heck with survived. “Did we hold on to the record?”
His grin dimmed a fraction. “Off a couple seconds. No big deal.”
Her stomach sank. She’d cost them the victory? “I’m sorry. I...I could have—”
Dante cut her off. “Stop.”
She blinked back the stinging tears blurring her eyes.
“You did great for your first time. The Sandy Beach PD signed up a ringer, so we were outmanned, anyway.”
She ran a dirty finger under her nose, then grimaced.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
She’d blown it. For the team. Could she feel any worse?
Brandy and the rest of her fellow officers circled her, giving her praise and joking with each other. All Eloise could muster up was disappointment in herself.
“Hey,” Dante said with a low voice as he leaned in close. Gripped her elbow. “You okay?”
No.
“Sure,” she said, pulling her arm from his grasp. She didn’t need his sympathy.
Brandy hooked her arm through Eloise’s. “Let’s get our complimentary T-shirt, clean up and have lunch. That barbecue smells good and I’m starving.”
She limped along with her friend. In the public restroom, she took one look in the mirror and nearly burst out in tears.
“Oh. My. Gosh.”
Brandy giggled. “Yeah. This race takes a toll.”
Eloise’s gaze slipped to her friend, as Brandy patted only a bit of mud from her fresh face, and she nearly growled.
Reluctantly returning to the mirror, she cringed. Her hair stuck out, mostly frizz pulled from the ponytail. Her glasses hung haphazardly, caked with gunk. Her shirt was stained and her legs were spotted with mud.
“Please tell me you have a brush,” Eloise nearly whimpered.
“Not on me.” Brandy laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re in the same condition as the other runners.”
“If that was meant to make me feel better, it didn’t work.”
Brandy handed her the clean shirt. “Put this on. It’ll help your disposition.”
Really? At this point, nothing could make her feel...anything.
They finished up, but after stepping outside, Eloise told her friend, “I’m going to my car. I’ll be back.”
Brandy narrowed her eyes. “You aren’t running off, are you?”
“No. I need to fix my hair before I join the team.”
“Okay, but if you aren’t back in ten minutes I’m going to send a search party for you.”
Dragging in a long sigh, she retrieved her pack and keys and marched to her car. She tossed her ruined shirt on the back floor, quickly grabbed a brush she’d placed in the console and went to work on the tangles catching in her shoulder-blade-length hair. Then she grabbed a towel she’d thrown in the back seat and wiped off her legs and arms. Changed sneakers. Feeling marginally human again, she turned to see Dante walking her way, a water bottle in each hand. Great. Add messy insult to injury.
He handed her a bottle covered in condensation when he reached her. “I noticed you didn’t stop at any of the water stations along the course. Figured you’d be thirsty.”
She didn’t realize how much until the cold, clear water slid down her parched throat. She chugged half the bottle before asking, “How long were you watching?”
“Just after you cleared the hay bales.”
Great. Only the entire course. She forced herself to meet his blue-eyed gaze. “Sorry I cost you the best time.”
He waved off her concern. “Don’t worry. It’s more for bragging rights. Trash talk, really.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t get it.”
“Get what? Having fun?”
“No. This whole team mentality. I mean, I understand from a work perspective. We need to work together to put bad guys away. But sports...”
“I take it you weren’t on any sports teams in school?”
“Do I look like I’m athletic?”
He took a long, leisurely sweep from her head to her toes and back. She shuddered under his perusal.
“Right now? I guess not. How about other teams? Intellectual pursuits?” He grinned. “I could see you on the debate team.”
She wished. If she’d had the nerve to join back then, she would have loved to debate. Fear had taken precedence.
“I wasn’t really involved in many team endeavors. Mostly stayed to myself.”
“Why?”
She took another sip to stall. Why indeed? Lacked confidence, she supposed. Without parents or anyone to encourage her, it was hard to work up the nerve to join in.
“I didn’t really have a lot of support. My parents are college professors. Really busy.”
He tilted his head, but thankfully didn’t say a word.
“I suppose now that I’ve run the course, next time I’ll know what to expect.”
“Next time?”
She cringed. Had she overstepped? “That is, if the team will have me?”
“Are you kidding? We’ll take any soul willing to run through muck and then hoist back a beer.” He frowned. “You will have a celebratory beer, won’t you?”
Would she? She didn’t drink. Never saw the appeal. “I suppose.”
“That’s the spirit. Let’s go get some food.” Dante turned and started toward the smoking grills and clusters of chatting people.
Her stomach growled, and for the first time since her clumsy descent of the climbing wall, she felt better.
“Dante. Wait.”
He turned. Walked back to her.
“Thank you. For pushing me to come today. Even though I might have cost you bragging rights, I had fun.”
He threw an arm over her shoulders, leaned in and spoke into her ear. “Then it was a good day.”
She turned a fraction. His face was so close to hers. She held her breath. Waiting, for what, she wasn’t sure. This close, the dark blue of his eyes mesmerized her. She couldn’t have moved if she wanted to.
She felt him go still. His warm breath brushed her cheek, yet he continued to stare down at her. Seeing what? she wondered. Then, just as quickly as the moment began, it ended when he moved away.
He smiled. Hitched his shoulder and she fell into step beside him.
Before long she was enjoying a tasty barbecue beef sandwich, the bold spices exploding with flavor in her mouth. She sipped a cold beer like her teammates—again, not her thing—and switched to bottled water. Found herself involved in conversation not involving the job and realized, I’m part of a team.
The reality shook her. Made her wonder why she’d shied away, especially once she was on her own and away from her parents’ negativity. Old habits? Fear she’d mess up and hear her parents’ voices in her head saying, I told you so? Suddenly she looked at her coworkers in a new light. She had friends, she realized. Strange, but wondrous at the same time.
“I thought I saw you on the course,” a male voice said over her shoulder. She turned. Tom Bailey was there, surprise etched on his face.
“Tom. Hi.” She waved. “It was a last-minute thing.”
“How’d you do?”
She held her arms out at her sides. “I’m in one piece.”
He chuckled. His warm eyes met hers. “Want another drink?”
She checked her water bottle. “I’m good.”
“Have you eaten?”
She nodded.
“How about getting away from this crowd?”
She blinked.
“It’s hard to talk over all the conversations.”
“Okay.” She joined him as he headed a few feet away and found a quiet bench far enough from the noise but still in sight of her teammates.
“I was hoping you would have run with me,” he said.
“For another PD? I don’t think that’s how it’s done.”
Tom chuckled, a pleasant sound. “No, I suppose not. Guess I was being selfish.”
“How’s that?”
They glanced over the scene before them: police officers enjoying the spring day, the mild temperatures and a time of relaxation away from the demands of the job.
“I was hoping you’d like to go out with me sometime.”
Her mind went blank. He was asking her on a date?
“Tom. I don’t know what to say.”
“How about yes?”
It had been a while since she’d been out with a guy. Work kept her busy and now she was focused on the promotion. Then there was Dante’s blue eyes...
“Tom, I have to turn you down.”
She glimpsed embarrassment in his eyes and, hating that she put it there, quickly laid her hand on his. “Not because I don’t like you. I’m getting ready to go undercover and I don’t know when I’ll be free.”
His face brightened. “But you’d think about it? After?”
Would she? She looked back at the crowd. Dante stood talking to a tall, leggy blonde, probably his type of woman, and decided, Why not?
“Sure. If you don’t mind waiting?”
“No. I mean, it’ll give me time to plan something fantastic.”
She chuckled. “Dinner and a movie is fine.”
“Not for you.”
She smiled at him. He was handsome, with round cheeks, nice green eyes, sandy-blond hair. All in all pleasant, but nothing to get her heart racing like when she was with Dante. The few occasions she’d spent with Tom, they’d had a decent conversation. No witty banter, but still...nice. So why wasn’t her tummy doing somersaults at the thought of dating him? Her heart not pounding out an excited rhythm?
“Listen,” she said, troubled by the direction of her thoughts. She’d said yes about going out with Tom and had meant it. “I should get back.”
“Sure. Okay.” They rejoined the crowd. “Call me when your assignment is over.”
“I will,” she said, watching as he walked backward, waving goodbye.
“What was that all about?” Dante asked as he sauntered over to her side.
“Tom asked me out on a date.”
Dante glanced in the direction of Tom’s path and back to her. “Told you he was an admirer.”
“I suppose.”
“Tell him we have an op coming up?”
“Yes. He was cool about it.”
Dante raised a brow.
“What?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like your type.”
“I have a type?”
“Everyone has a type.”
Hers seemed to be Dante, she realized. A depressing thought because she was no competition for the leggy blonde.
“Look, who I go out with shouldn’t be of any interest to you,” she said with a little starch in her tone.
“Are you kidding? Monday you become my wife.”
Her heart shivered. “For the op. Not real life.”
“Still...”
“Leave it alone, Dante. Let’s enjoy the day.”
“Sure.” He glanced over at the blonde he’d been chatting up. “I’m going out for drinks later, anyway.”
“Great. Have fun.”
He scowled at her. “I will.”
She stood her ground. Waited for him to leave.
He stared back, then finally shook off his mood. “Go home and get some shut-eye,” he suggested before walking off. “We’re setting up house bright and early Monday morning.”
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub20c2a39-4475-5acd-a590-3d97380e9bdd)
RISING AT DAWN to get his five-mile run in for the morning, Dante had taken a quick shower afterward. Now, with a mug of aromatic, freshly brewed coffee at his elbow, he scanned the computer screen after signing into the videoconference call with his brothers.
Since his siblings were scattered along the eastern seaboard—Derrick in DC, Deke in Atlanta and Dylan on the other coast of Florida—this was the most efficient way to meet at an agreed upon time and carry on a conversation. All accounted for, they could discuss their mother before he left the house to pick up Eloise and start their undercover married life.
His pulse kicked up, but he ignored it.
“Hey, guys. I’m starting my undercover assignment today. I’m on the clock,” he said in lieu of hello.
“Dangerous, Pretty Boy?”
Derrick always managed to annoy him. You’d think he would be used to it by now.
“Shouldn’t be. Auto theft ring.”
“Are you on it alone?” Deke asked.
“No. New partner.” Whom he didn’t want to discuss with his older brothers. “But we’re together to talk about Mom.”
Dante took this time to look over each brothers’ face before they got into the family discussion. They all sported dark hair and varying shadows of blue eyes, carrying the olive-skinned coloring of their mother. Derrick resembled their father more than the others, with his blue eyes a lighter shade just like the man they’d all loved. Daryl Matthews had doled out wisdom, laughed liked there was no tomorrow and touched each son in a deep and lasting way. For Dante, he and his father had shared a love of cars and motors. It led to building a sense of trust with his dad that he’d never shared with anyone else. They’d spent hours hunched under the hood of one make or another, taking apart engines and reassembling them, only to make the cars faster, much to their mother’s chagrin. But if his father could be remembered for one trait equally and above measure with all his sons, it was the listening and abiding love of a father.
“Let’s get to it,” Dylan said, taking the lead since he was the one with the limited intel on their mother and her new beau.
“Who is this man?” Deke asked, wasting no time in getting right to the heart of business. Studious and more logical than the other Matthews boys, his reserved nature served him well in forensics.
“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know, or you don’t want to know,” Derrick, always outspoken, threw into the mix.
Dylan frowned. He’d been protective of the entire Matthews clan for as long as Dante could remember. “I want to know, but she’s giving me the runaround.”
“Which you should be used to,” Derrick said, then slurped from a mug.
Dante tried a different angle. “Has Kady learned anything?”
“She overheard Mom on the phone making a lunch date for tomorrow. Once she learns the location, I’ll stop by to pick up an order.”
“If the place has takeout,” Deke pointed out.
“Yeah. If it doesn’t, I’ll take Kady there for an impromptu lunch. One way or another, I plan on meeting her date.”
“Whatever you do,” Derrick warned in his oldest-brother tone, “don’t scare him off.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Dude, you get all serious and scary on people. This guy isn’t a perp, so tread lightly.”
“I think I know how to handle an interrogation.”
“See,” Derrick said after a chuckle. “You view this as work. It’s life. Go easy.”
“Life?” Dante snorted. “When did you become so Zen?”
“The minute I learned my mother was interested in a man who isn’t our father.”
“May he rest in peace,” Deke said in a low voice.
They all went silent for a beat.
Dante swallowed, his throat tight as he thought of the larger-than-life man who had affected all their lives.
Derrick, the troublemaker of the tribe, held up a silver coin in the small square of video space. “Let’s flip to see who leads this mission.”
Dante groaned. “Really? The coin toss?”
“It’s tradition,” Derrick countered, a slick smile on his lips.
“And not necessary,” Deke chimed in. “Dylan is right there. Let him take the lead.”
“That’s not how we do things.”
Since they were kids, the boys had always used a coin toss to determine which brother would be responsible for a task. Clean the pool. Coin toss. Cover for the brother who slipped out of the house late at night? Coin toss. The latest had been the last time they were all together at a family wedding when their mother had requested that one of her sons accompany her to a florist convention. Dylan, needing an excuse to tag along to solve a case, lost the toss, but ended up winning the girl.
Derrick deftly rolled the coin between his fingers. “C’mon, guys.”
“I know how this ends.” Dylan shook his head, his bluish-gray eyes glittering.

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