Undercover Justice
Justice Team Series, Book 5
Misty Evans
Adrienne Giordano
ALG Publishing
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Now for a sneak preview of…
About the Authors
A Note To Readers
Books in the Justice Team Series
Books by Adrienne Giordano
Books by Misty Evans
Undercover Justice
Copyright © 2015 Misty Evans and Adrienne Giordano
Excerpt Protecting Justice © 2016 Misty Evans and Adrienne Giordano
ISBN-978-1-942504-06-1
Publisher: ALG Publishing, LLC
Cover Art by The Killion Group, Inc.
Formatting by Beach Path Publishing, LLC
Editing by Gina Bernal, Linda Beaulieu, Katherine Hahn
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author, except in brief quotations embedded in critical articles and reviews.
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eBooks may not be resold, as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
1
Sometimes a girl just couldn’t get a freaking break.
Particularly when it came to being in love with Mitch Monroe, the wiseass ape who sat at his desk not far from Caroline, chomping on a chocolate donut, oblivious to the fact that she was pissed at him.
Royally.
God, he made her insane sometimes. Obviously sensing the hate, he glanced over, donut in hand, his vagina-melting blue gaze steady. Those eyes brought her down every time and he knew it. Knew it!
But not today. Today, she’d stay mad. Even if her body caved to lust at some point, her mind and the emotional armor surrounding it would remain strong.
She poked her finger at him. “Forget it, buddy.”
Teeg, the Justice Team’s hacker extraordinaire, abandoned whoever he was spying on via the makeshift bank of computer monitors cluttering his workspace and gave her an oh-shit face.
“You,” Caroline said, “stay out of this.”
His eyebrows hitched up. “I don’t even know what this is.”
“That makes two of us,” Mitch said.
Bastard.
“Oh, please. You know.”
Mitch—the bastard—laughed and something in Caroline’s brain detonated. Just boom, sending sparks of frying energy right down her neck. She eyed the open area of the abandoned Army base that doubled as the Justice Team’s headquarters. All around her were computers, stacks and stacks of files, a table with assorted parts that Teeg had been fiddling with for his drone experiments and yet, she couldn’t find one thing big enough to club Mitch with.
Dammit.
“Crap,” Teeg said, “she’s turning Resting Bitch again. I gotta whiz. Or something.”
Resting Bitch. Nice. Before today, she’d laughed at the nickname bestowed upon her. Resting Bitch was the one who could bring a man down with a deadly glare and tight smile.
Resting Bitch instilled fear.
And when surrounded by males all day, each of them alphas in some annoying way, she needed every edge.
“Sure.” Mitch raised a fist as Teeg hustled by. “Leave me alone with her. Whatever happened to watching a guy’s back?”
“I do watch your back. Except with Resting Bitch. I’m afraid of her.”
Teeg was always buttering her up. But she liked him well enough and the kid had mad hacking skills that Caroline admired. Plus, he stayed out of her business.
And, apparently, Mitch’s. Teeg scooted toward the door. That left their boss, Grey, not ten feet away, fielding a flurry of phone calls and hidden behind a screen separating his workspace.
The Justice Team, an off-the-books operation run by a secret collaboration of FBI big wigs under the president’s direct command, didn’t technically exist. Rumors had quickly spread in D.C., but as far as the federal government was concerned, such an operation had never been approved.
In this town plausible deniability was everything.
Caroline didn’t mind. The assignments had meat and if the team stepped outside the lines once in a while in an effort to catch a crook or murderer or rapist, so be it. As long as the bad guy wound up in prison, Caroline could live with playing outside the lines.
The familiar squeak of Mitch’s chair bounced off the bare cement walls and she peered at him, casually leaning back and popping the last of the donut into his mouth. She dropped her gaze to her desk drawer where she’d tucked her nine-millimeter. She should just shoot him and be done with it. Once and for all.
“Is this about your mom again? You’re still pissed about that?”
He brushed the last of the crumbs off his T-shirt, another graphic one stating free contradictions cost one dollar. I hate him.
“Oh, my God.” She smacked a hand on top of her desk. “Yes, I’m still pissed. When my mother invites us to her country club for dinner, we should go.”
“I was working!”
“You just wanted to get out of it.”
And heaven help him if he pursued this. She knew—knew—Mitch and Grey had closed that election fraud case. All that had been left was paperwork but, thirty minutes before dinner, Mitch had called and said he was swamped. Swamped. With paperwork?
Puh-lease.
All because he knew her mother wanted a wedding at their country club and since Mitch hadn’t popped the question, Mom kept making up reasons for them to go to the club.
Was it passive aggressive? Yes. Annoying? Completely. Did she blame Mitch for getting irritated? No.
But he’d abandoned her, marched right off the battlefield and left her to deal with her mother. And that was unacceptable.
He rocked his chair back, sending another burst of squeaks into the echoing room. Damn him with that squeaking. He knew it made them all insane and yet he couldn’t help himself. He simply could not sit still.
He spread his arms in that what the fuck way of his. “All I know is we went to your Uncle’s birthday party three weeks ago and someone I don’t even know made a comment that you and I would make beautiful babies. A fact, mind you, I don’t disagree with. I mean, look at you, a guy would be a dumbass to disagree with that statement. But, hey, apparently agreeing with cousin Anna-Marie-Susan, whatever the fuck her name is, was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. She was being nice.”
“Well, yeah. That’s what I thought too. Your mom overhearing it screwed me. Hard. My agreeing that you are friggin’ stunning somehow morphed into your mother looking at wedding locales. Seriously, Caroline? We haven’t even talked about it.”
Ha. As if they’d get married. Mitch Monroe, confirmed bachelor, master of oneness, married. Good one.
Oh, he loved her. She knew that, but Mitch’s track record with commitment wasn’t exactly stellar. He liked keeping things loose, staying unattached. She suspected it was more self-preservation than anything. An unwillingness to open himself up to attachment and the risk of heartbreak.
She got that. Even understood it.
But she wanted Mitch
and a white picket fence and a few babies.
And that, kids, might be their undoing.
She closed her eyes, pushed the thought away. Focus on today. Easy enough. She’d been doing that for months. Enjoying their time together and loving him—openly—the way she’d always dreamed of back when they were both at the Bureau. Back when she’d kept her feelings buried. Even back then she’d known she loved him. Maybe she didn’t allow herself to think in those terms because—hello?—Mitch Monroe wasn’t exactly husband material, but he was it for her. The one man who moved her.
And that was saying something.
She opened her eyes. “Let’s not fight. I know you don’t see yourself getting married. For now, it’s okay.”
Mitch flapped his arms. “Here we go. Come on, Caroline!”
“Jesus Christ!” Grey yelled from behind his office wall/screen. “Quit that goddamn bickering!”
Caroline gave the humiliation three seconds to burn her throat and then threw her shoulders back. “Sorry, boss.”
Grey appeared from behind the screen. He wore his typical federal agent attire of a dark suit, white shirt and tie. He pointed at her. “Got a minute?”
Ten-minutes ago she’d heard him on the phone discussing a senator’s daughter. Something about Las Vegas and a reality show. None of which sounded like a good combination. Having received a call of her own that interrupted her eavesdropping, she hadn’t heard the end of that conversation. Not that she’d been purposely eavesdropping, but a silk screen picked up by Grey’s fiancé at a thrift shop didn’t block out much noise. If any.
The Justice Team’s headquarters wasn’t exactly cushy. All they had was a giant, dull white cement room with third-hand furniture. Just yesterday the leg of Mitch’s desk had fallen off and they propped it up with a two-by-four. They were nothing if not resourceful.
The great thing about this bunch was nobody cared about the furnishings. They just wanted to serve.
She stood and Grey motioned her to the door Teeg had just escaped from.
Huh?
At least six times a day Grey hit each of them with the got-a-minute line. Nothing about that struck anyone as odd. They were a team, all sworn to secrecy about what went on inside these walls. So if Caroline overheard a conversation that Grey had with Mitch or Teeg, it didn’t matter. They all knew everything.
Which was how Caroline busted Mitch blowing off her mother.
The fact that Grey wanted to take this particular got-a-minute meeting outside?
That was weird.
And it drew Mitch’s attention as well because his chair squeaked again—squeak, squeak, squeak—indicating he’d shifted his body weight.
Three times.
Caroline didn’t dare look at him. She knew him well enough to know he had his eyes pinned to his former partner, closest friend, and now boss. Mitch, being Mitch, hated secrets and Grey calling a meeting outside the walls of this room—with Caroline—meant secrets.
“Um, sure.”
Where the heck were they even going? None of the surrounding rooms on their floor had any furniture.
Following Grey, she marched by Mitch’s desk, glancing at him long enough to see her beloved’s blue eyes shooting grenades at Grey. And when he got that look, she stayed clear of him. Because a mad Mitch Monroe was no picnic. Sarcastic humor oozed from this man and if he put an ounce of effort into it, his charm could bring down a nation. But underneath all that wit brewed a potentially devastating force. It took a lot to make him angry, but when he reached that tipping point…kaboom.
Later.
Right now, her own curiosity burned clear through her skin. Whatever this was, it had to be good and the good assignments were always the most dangerous.
And electrifying.
Grey hooked a left in the hallway, stalking past the first two doors. The clunk of his dress shoes against the cheap tile floors echoed in the hallway and Caroline scooted along trying to keep pace. Wherever they were headed, Grey wanted to be far away from the Bat Cave, as their most recent employee, Brice Brennan, had nicknamed it.
At the end of the hallway, he checked a door, found it locked and backtracked to the one just before it. Open. He pushed on the door, felt the inside wall and flipped on the interior light.
A rare smile appeared, bunching Grey’s normally sculpted cheekbones. He didn’t have Mitch’s movie-star handsome face, but that brooding thing worked for him.
He waved her through the doorway. “Our new conference room.”
As with the rest of their digs, their new conference room wouldn’t win any decorating contests. What they had here was a roughly four-by-six storage closet complete with floor to ceiling metal shelving.
They could use that shelf.
Grey closed the door behind them and—wait—maybe this wasn’t an assignment. Maybe, no! Could she be getting fired?
No way. Just last week Grey had ventured out to her self-designed shooting range, to practice with her, and stressed what an asset she’d been to the team. But if she weren’t being canned, why all this cloak and dagger stuff?
Because, hell on earth, her boss was freaking her out.
He held up his hands. “Everything is fine.”
Not wanting her boss to see his former FBI SWAT sniper having a full-blown panic attack, Caroline released a silent breath and focused on her boss’s words. Everything is fine.
“Somehow, given that we’re in the janitor’s closet, I don’t think that’s altogether true.”
Again Grey smiled. Twice in five minutes. A miracle.
“I wanted to speak to you privately.”
“Meaning without Mitch? Is this about him? Did he do something stupid again?”
Grey gave her that look; the one that said when hasn’t Mitch done something stupid. “It’s not about him. I got a call this morning. Senator Dutch’s daughter has gone missing in Las Vegas and he suspects foul play. We’re trying to keep it quiet.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say she’s spontaneous.”
Ah. “As in she could be in Lake Tahoe partying with her friends and the FBI doesn’t want to launch an investigation and alert the media?”
“Exactly. Dutch would like me to look into it. He’s a personal friend, and if there is some kind of foul play, it could be a Justice Team assignment, but there’s no proof of any crime. I’m up to my eyeballs right now with Brennan’s investigation into that Chinese hacker, so…”
Caroline grinned. “Please tell me I’m going to Vegas.”
Vegas right now, without Mitch or her mother and the drama of their fighting, sounded like heaven.
“You could be. I’m leaving the decision up to you.”
Since when did they get to choose their assignments? In this job, if the FBI told them to roll in pig droppings, they did it. Came with the job. However, if this was a personal favor for a senator… Well, either way. “I’m confused. You’re letting me decide?”
“Yes. It’s not something I’m comfortable ordering you to do.”
Caroline snorted. “Oh, for God’s sakes. You’re not making me a prostitute are you?”
Grey flinched. And, dammit! Stupid, stupid, Caroline. On his first assignment for the then not-yet-formed Justice Team, Grey had convinced his now fiancé to pose as a high-priced call girl to catch a serial killer. An assignment that had nearly gotten Syd killed.
“Ooh.” Caroline whacked her palm against her forehead. “That was bad. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. And no, it’s not prostitution.”
“But?”
“You’d have to, uh…” he circled one hand in the air, “…engage men. The senator’s daughter, Megan, is in Vegas on vacation and got tapped to try-out for a reality matchmaking show. The bachelorette tries to land a husband out of a pool of wealthy bachelors. She made it to the final callback with two other women.”
“And she went missing?”
“Yes. The producers wanted the women to interact with t
he men in a group setting. Pre-qualifying them for chemistry. They set up parties and dinners for all three women and the men. After one of the events, she disappeared.”
Wow. A senator’s daughter. The media frenzy would be epic. “You need me to go to Vegas and see what’s what with this show?”
“Caroline, you’re one of the top agents to come out of Quantico. You wouldn’t be working for me if you weren’t.”
“Grey, shut up and tell me what you need.”
“I need a beautiful woman who can take Megan’s place as one of the three finalists. I need you and your…assets. You’re smart, men respond to you, and you know how to fly under the radar. You’re the complete package for this assignment.”
The complete package. Meaning she had good tits. A fact she’d always known, but she preferred to rely on her shooting skills and her brain to get ahead in her profession.
Until now. Now she needed to be eye candy and find a senator’s missing daughter. This assignment, as goofy as is sounded with the whole reality television angle, could make her career. At least as far as shadowy, behind the scenes covert ops teams went.
She held up one finger. “Do I have to sleep with anyone?”
“Of course not.”
“Do I have to let them touch me?”
“No, but it’s a dating show. Can’t guarantee someone won’t make a move.”
“As long as I can break the hand of anyone who cops a feel, I’m good.”
Grey studied her with his dark and oh-so-pensive profiler gaze. “You’ll do it? I need to call Dutch back ASAP.”
Oh, she’d do it. Only if Mitch stayed home though. Not that she minded working with him. Back in their Bureau days they’d been partners for a time and even now, despite their personal relationship, they worked well together. Extremely well. But this assignment? No way. For this assignment, she’d have to flirt with men and loving Mitch the way she did, the emotional toll would shred her.
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