Agent Undercover

by Lynette Eason

  Eli’s sharp gaze never wavered, and Paige couldn’t tell if he was buying into her story. Finally, he looked at the window. “All right. I’ve got a forensics kit in the car. I’ll get this blood sample to the lab.” Eli left to get the equipment from his car, and Paige looked at Dylan.

  “Thank you for not saying anything.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I still think you’re wrong in not trusting Eli, but I’ll respect your opinion.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Then Eli was back.

  He took the blood sample from the glass, then dusted the rest of the window.

  Finally, he looked up. “There aren’t any prints on here.”

  Paige rubbed her nose. “I’m sure the Jacksons had them cleaned before I moved in. So whoever was out there was either wearing gloves or was just looking in.”

  Skepticism crossed Eli’s face. “Then why break the window?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s probably all a coincidence.”

  More skepticism stamped on his features, Eli slapped his hat on his head. “When y’all are ready to come clean about what’s going on, I’ll be around.” He held up the evidence bag. “In the meantime, I’ll get this to the lab in Asheville. Don’t know how long we’re looking at until we get results. If the guy’s not in the system, then it’s not going to help us much.”

  “But you’ll have it if you catch the person.”

  Shrewd eyes studied her once again. “Right.”

  As Eli drove away, Dylan cleared his throat. “You need to consider that your cover is blown.”

  Anxiety hit her. “I know. I’ll think about it.” And she would. But she wasn’t ready to go anywhere yet. She needed to find Larry’s killer. And the two people in her house were the ones that could help her do that. A little voice inside her mocked her, saying that wasn’t the only reason she didn’t want to concede defeat and go back to Atlanta.

  She finally let herself admit she didn’t want to leave Dylan and Will. She’d gotten personally involved, and the stakes were too high to quit now.

  Dylan watched her come back into the house. His brain felt like it was on overload. First he’d found out she was DEA and then she announced she’d never be a mother.

  A sick feeling engulfed him. Had he started falling for another woman like Erica?

  Paige grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over Will. The little boy frowned and mumbled something in his sleep.

  Paige soothed the wrinkles from his forehead and stroked his hair until he settled.

  Dylan watched it all with a feeling of disbelief. She was a natural, with maternal instincts she couldn’t deny.

  Maybe he’d misunderstood what she meant.

  Paige left Will alone and paced to the window.

  He motioned to the recliner. “Why don’t you sit down?” He really wanted to talk to her about the things he’d just learned. She wasn’t who he thought she was. The fact that he’d been falling for her concerned him.

  “I feel like we need to start over,” he told her.

  She ignored his invitation to sit. Instead, she moved to the other window, peeled aside the edge of the curtain and looked out.

  “I can’t sit down. I still have adrenaline shooting through me.” She shot him a glance. “What do you mean we need to start over?”

  “You’re not the woman I thought you were. I mean I know we haven’t really known each other very long, but I was starting to get to know you, to … to hope …” he let his words trail off. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable, to putting his heart on the line. After Erica’s betrayal, he’d sworn off relationships—at least for the time being.

  And then he’d met Paige.

  Regret clouded her eyes. “I’m sorry Dylan. I didn’t mean to lead you on. And while I might have feelings of guilt for some of the things I do, it’s still my job. I knew what I was getting into when I chose this career so I deal with it.”

  “How?”

  After peering outside for a long time, she responded. “Sometimes, it’s harder than others,” she admitted. “But I tell myself that the end justifies the means. That I’m putting criminals, murderers, drug traffickers and other really rotten people behind bars. And that’s a good thing. If I have to play a role to do that, then so be it. And … sometimes I pray about it.”

  Hope leaped inside him. “You believe in God?”

  “Yes. I believe in Him.”

  “I hear reservations in your voice.”

  With a sigh, she leaned her forehead against the wall next to the window. “It’s a really long story. I don’t think I want to bore you with it tonight.”

  Somehow, he doubted boredom was the right word. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Will you spend the day with Will and me?”

  She paused and he could almost see her processing the invitation. Would she say no?

  Did he really want her to say yes? He should be angry with her for lying to him but couldn’t hold on to that feeling. And he didn’t really want to. However, he did want to see her with Will to see if she could break through the silence no one else could penetrate.

  Finally, she looked at him and smiled. “Sure.” Relief flooded him. “Good. Because I have some questions I need answers to.”

  EIGHT

  Paige watched as Dylan and Will backed out of her driveway, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond. Nothing caught her attention, but she still felt on edge, wary and watchful.

  She’d enjoyed the evening for the most part—with the exception of the broken window that he’d helped her board up with some plywood she found in the garage. However, Dylan and Will’s company drove home the extent of her loneliness, and she wondered if she’d ever put it behind her.

  And part of her worried about Dylan knowing her true reason for being in Rose Mountain. She hoped he could handle it, that he wouldn’t feel obligated to go to his friend, sheriff Eli.

  She’d just have to count on his integrity. The fact that if he felt like he couldn’t keep her secret, he would at least give her a heads-up that he planned to tell Eli.

  Paige pulled on a pair of black gloves.

  Her plan tonight was to get to the school and get inside to do some snooping. Thanks to the superintendent, she had the alarm code.

  Ten minutes later, dressed in black and armed with her weapon, she threw on a raincoat and stuffed a black hat into the pocket. Hoping she looked like any other normal person out for an evening walk, she headed down the street to the school. It was only a five-minute bike ride. Walking would take her a bit longer.

  The rain had stopped, but the humidity hung heavy in the air. Before too long, she was drenched with sweat. Ignoring it, she kept to the sidewalk, taking note of the occasional car that passed by. In the small town of Rose Mountain, no doubt someone would mention her late-night stroll. She already had her cover story, though.

  She’d simply say she forgot something in her car and went to get it.

  That was one reason she hadn’t let Dylan get her a battery. She’d already been planning this little trek while she’d been serving the casserole.

  Her phone vibrated.

  Pulling it out, she saw she had a text message. From Dylan. Pressing the appropriate button, she read, I called Buddy at the auto store. He went by and put a battery in your car.

  Paige nearly stumbled. “You did what?” she asked aloud. She was stunned, surprised. Touched. Dylan had gone out of his way to do something very thoughtful for her. When was the last time someone had done something like that just to make things easier on her?

  Paige’s heart throbbed when she realized she honestly couldn’t remember. Being such a loner and so engrossed in her job didn’t make it easy to cultivate long-term friendships. Sure, she had her buddies at the office and her boss, Charles, was a good man who treated her well, but … It wasn’t the same. That was work. She could admit she wanted more.

  She decided she liked the good doctor quite a bit more each time she saw him or
had contact with him.

  Amazingly enough, she also decided she liked the feeling of being cared for—of someone looking out for her and doing those kinds of things for her, like putting a battery in her car.

  Yeah, she liked it a lot. Paige felt a smile curve her lips as she texted back. Thanks. Now I owe you more than a frozen casserole.

  Guilt stabbed her. Everyone she’d met in this town, from Dylan to the people at the school, had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome. None of that small-town hostility toward newcomers that could be found in some places. Rose Mountain had good folks. Deceiving them stung.

  But it was her job. And taking drug dealers and their product off the street was doing what was best for the town in the long run.

  She’d accept their kindness and hopefully repay it by doing her job the best way she knew how.

  Thankfully, she’d grabbed her car keys before leaving the house. She could drive home when she was finished at the school.

  Behind her a car slowed.

  Nothing unusual with that alone, but the fact there wasn’t a car in front of it made her take note of it. Only when it didn’t pass her like the others, nearly slowing to a crawl, did her instincts kick into high gear.

  Ears tuned to the vehicle behind her, she slid her phone into her back pocket and scoped out a good hiding place should she need it. Just ahead was a gas station. Across the street, a wooded lot crowded with trees.

  Her heart picked up speed, and she reached up to touch the comforting reassurance of her weapon tucked into the shoulder holster.

  Two other cars passed by. The one trailing her slowed even more. She readied herself to spin and see if she could identify the person behind the wheel. For three more steps she kept her gaze forward.

  Paige came to an abrupt stop, spun and squinted through the darkness. With a squeal of tires, the car jerked ahead before she could see the driver. Her pulse pounded, and she swiped her palms on her black sweats.

  Her eyes on the fading taillights, she couldn’t see the plate well enough, but thought she saw the letter Z. Not only that, but the car was white and looked suspiciously familiar. Could it be the same car that had tried to run Will down?

  Watching it until the vehicle turned right a few streets up, she continued her brisk walk, senses alert, eyes probing the area around her. She’d be ready if the driver decided to make a loop and come back.

  Finally, she arrived at the school without another incident. Taking a deep breath, she scoped the area. No one around that she could see. Paige skirted the edge of the fence and made her way to the side door.

  Pulling out her key, she unlocked it, then went straight to the keypad and punched in the code. It blinked red once more, then turned green.

  She was in. Locking the door behind her, she turned and faced the hallway.

  Now for the search.

  She wanted to start at one end of the building and go methodically through each classroom, looking for evidence of drugs and anyone involved in dealing them.

  Light filtered through the halls, not as bright as they were during the day, but she could see well enough to make her way without pulling out the flashlight yet. She’d probably need that in the classrooms.

  Paige pulled out the key the superintendent had given her—the master key—and inserted it in the door of the first classroom at the end of the hall.

  Slipping inside, she grabbed the flashlight from her belt and clicked it on. She headed for the desk, her steps light and quick. Paige had no intention of sticking around any longer than necessary. She opened drawers, file cabinets and every place she thought might be a good hiding place for drugs.

  Nothing.

  And so it went for the next seven classrooms.

  Forty-five minutes later, she stepped into the next room. Just as she shut the door behind her, she thought she heard a footstep in the hallway.

  Dylan thought about the evening and everything he’d learned.

  Paige was DEA.

  Undercover at his nephew’s school because she was after a killer and whoever was running drugs through the school.

  Someone had broken into her house, had stolen the battery from her car and come back to her house for who knows what purpose and ended up breaking a window.

  His mind reeled even as his gaze scanned the files he’d brought home.

  He looked at the yellow legal pad to his right. Four names. Names of patients who might have a grudge against him for some reason.

  His eyes blurred as exhaustion hit him. A glance at the clock showed it wasn’t that late, but the past few restless, sometimes sleepless, nights had caught up with him.

  Shoving the files to the side, he stood and walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to Will’s room. The night-light made the little boy’s room glow, revealing the sleeping child.

  Deciding to call it a night, Dylan readied himself for bed. He grabbed his Bible and settled himself in the recliner next to the window. This room was one of the reasons he’d purchased the house. The large master bedroom had enough room for his king-size bed, a recliner in front of the flat-screen television and a gas-log fireplace he used frequently during the winter months.

  The only thing missing was someone to share it with.

  At that thought, Paige’s face came to the forefront of his mind and he smiled. Then frowned. What he’d learned about her tonight was a lot to deal with. He closed his eyes. “Lord, guide me in the direction I’m supposed to go. You’ve placed Paige in my life for a reason. Show me what that is.”

  A noise sounded outside his bedroom, and he glanced at the door, expecting to see Will standing there, his silent expression asking Dylan to sit with him. Or the tear tracks on his cheeks indicative of yet another nightmare.

  His eyes landed on empty space.

  Setting the Bible on the small table next to the chair, Dylan stood and strode to the door. The deserted hallway greeted him. Pursing his lips, he walked down to Will’s room.

  Will’s bed was vacant. That was odd.

  “Will?”

  A chill swept over him. Generally, Will didn’t get out of bed unless it was to find Dylan or go to the bathroom. Dylan could see into the lighted restroom that Will used. He wasn’t in there. Dylan frowned and considered what this might mean, even as he turned to search the rest of the house.

  A quick scan of each bedroom made his heart thump faster. “Will? Where are you, buddy?”

  He heard it again. A scrape.

  Coming from the kitchen.

  Spinning on his left foot, he charged toward the kitchen. Rounding the corner at the end of the hall, he cut through the den.

  Another sound. He slowed, his senses taking in the noise. Will crying. That whimpering, lost sound that never failed to wrench Dylan’s heart in two.

  “Will?” he whispered.

  Dylan approached the kitchen doorway, stopped and peered around the edge.

  And froze.

  Will stood with his back to Dylan, staring at the kitchen door—a large butcher knife clutched between both hands.

  Paige stopped just inside the door, her fingers clutched around the knob. Her mind filtered through the list of people that might have a good reason for being at the school at ten o’clock on a Friday night.

  She couldn’t come up with one.

  So, who had she heard outside in the hall?

  Or had she actually heard a footstep?

  Paige moved to the long vertical window by the door. The bottom half was covered with student work. The top half had a small area where she could look out.

  Clipping her flashlight back onto her belt, she reached up with her left hand and unclipped the strap that held her weapon in the holster.

  Grabbing her gun could possibly be considered paranoid behavior, but after the events of the past few days, she would rather be paranoid than dead.

  Peering through the window, she saw nothing in the dimly lit hallway.

  But her instincts still shouted at her.
>
  Someone was out in the hallway, and the memory of the car following behind her as she walked still crowded her mind.

  Turning the knob, she opened the door with a click that sounded like an explosion in the silence. She flinched and froze.

  Her ears strained to listen, and she thought she heard a shuffle. A muffled footstep?

  Only one way to find out.

  Opening the door wide enough to slip out, she paused one more time, heart humming, blood pumping in her veins. As soon as she shut the door, it would click again. An idea occurred to her. Slipping off her left shoe, she removed her sock and dropped it to the ground. All the while, she never took her eyes off the hallway. She replaced her shoe then waited.

  After about a minute, she eased the door shut behind her. It was stopped by the sock and stayed silent.

  In the hallway, she looked to her left—the direction she needed to go to get out of the building. Then to her right. And saw a shadow flash at the end of the hall.

  Paige started toward it. Her hand gripped her weapon. Who would be here at this time of the night, sneaking around?

  Besides her?

  Slowly, she stalked the shadow, drawing closer, waiting for it to move again, desperately hoping it’s owner didn’t have a weapon. Out in the open hallway, she felt exposed, vulnerable. If whoever lurked ahead decided to take a shot at her, she was toast.

  Her phone vibrated, and she froze trying to remember if she had it set to ring after two vibrations or not. Unwilling to take the chance it would ring, she shot one more glance toward the place where she’d seen the shadow, then grabbed her phone from her back pocket.

  Pressing a button, she silenced the device without looking down.

  Taking light steps toward where she’d last seen the shadow, she forced herself to breathe slow, pulling in deep, measured breaths. Her ears strained, her eyes probed. Her heart thudded in her chest.

  And her phone vibrated.

  A clatter ahead of her made her jump. Goose bumps popped out over her body.

  Then the shadow was in front of her, darting toward her.

  Paige flung herself around the corner into the next hall and waited, chest heaving with adrenaline. She pulled her gun from her holster and held it steady.