Undercover Vows Read online

  Noah stared at the stricken look on Keely’s face and was surprised by the thudding ache in the middle of his chest. Damn the woman! Even after all this time she had the power to make him feel like a louse for hurting her. He tried to think of something he could say, some words of comfort—if only to ease his own conscience. Although he didn’t believe it for a moment, he was startled to hear himself mutter, “There’s still a chance Rosie was an innocent dupe.”

  Kapinski leaned forward and pounded a meaty fist on the desk. “Well, I’m only sorry I can’t arrest that lowlife for extortion and usury!”

  Keely shook her head. “None of this helps clear my sister’s name. But something else has been bothering me. Do you think there’s a chance that that crash wasn’t accidental? I mean, what if Sargent’s mob bosses found out he’d subcontracted the delivery?”

  Noah stretched out his legs, his long slender fingers plucking at the perfect seam in his slacks. “Excellent point, Keely. Right now we don’t have any evidence that their deaths weren’t accidental.”

  Pushing out of her chair, Keely stormed over to the window. “So that’s it?” she asked over her shoulder. “My sister’s dead and her reputation is in shreds but the counterfeiters just keep on with business as usual?”

  Noah stood and crossed the room to stand behind Keely. The soft powdery scent of her perfume tickled his nostrils, reminding him of the sweetness of the kisses they’d once shared. Unable to think clearly with her so near, he backed away. “There is one possible alternative. What if their deaths were accidental? Suppose word of Sargent’s death hasn’t reached his mob bosses yet? What if they haven’t canceled the transfer of those plates?”

  Keely whirled around. “You think that transfer is going to take place in Mexico, don’t you?”

  Noah and the chief exchanged a glance. The chief nodded slightly and Noah picked up a gray folder from the desk. “Remember that piece of evidence the chief mentioned that tied Sargent to Mexico? We found this in his wallet.” He opened the folder and extracted a slip of notepaper encased in a plastic evidence sleeve.

  With a trembling hand, Keely took the paper. Written with a broad-tipped marker, the message was clear: Viva Zapata’s Cantina, noon Tuesday, Aug. 22. Roberto.

  She read it twice and returned it to the gray folder. Viva Zapata’s was a well-known tourist trap in Ensenada, Mexico, a stop for every cruise ship going south of the border. Keely could no longer deny her sister’s involvement. But if she told them about the cruise tickets—

  “Keely?” Noah’s voice sounded faraway, fuzzy but concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  Ignoring the fiery lump in her throat, she whispered, “That’s next Tuesday. You think that’s when the transfer is going to be made, don’t you?”

  Noah frowned. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. And if we’re lucky, I think we can intercept that package.”

  Keely picked up his line of thought. “And by following those plates like crumbs in Hansel and Gretel’s forest, you think—”

  “We have a chance to nail everyone who touches that package, including whoever is using his badge to protect the counterfeit operation.” What Noah didn’t mention was his suspicion that the girls’ father, Mike Travers, was the leak. As watch commander, he had been privy to every bit of gossip and information that made its way through the department. Such a hunch also went a long way toward explaining why Rosie Travers Bannister would have allowed herself to be used: she was trying to protect her father.

  Keely slowly twisted her neck and stared out the window into the bright morning sun. What was she going to do? If she continued to keep those cruise tickets to herself, she would be interfering with a police investigation—breaking the law. She’d taken an oath to uphold the law. But if she gave them the evidence she’d uncovered, she knew Rosie would be condemned. It would break their father’s heart.

  Despite the quickly mounting pile of evidence to the contrary, Keely still believed in her sister’s innocence. Somehow it was up to her to prove it. She had to tell them about the tickets; her own innate honesty and the oath she’d taken when she joined the force demanded it.

  With an audible sigh, she crossed the room and picked up her purse from the chief’s desk. Her fingers shook and her stomach roiled with trepidation as she pulled out the cruise tickets.

  She handed the envelope to Noah and walked quickly back to the window. Turning her head, she murmured against the glass,’ “I found these in Rosie’s closet last night.”

  He examined the documents for a few seconds and flipped the envelope to the police chief. He turned to Keely, admiration evident in his blue-gray eyes. “You realize the contact is going to be on that cruise, don’t you?”

  Keely shrugged. “So what happens now?”

  He leaned forward and retrieved the envelope from the corner of the chief’s desk. Keeping his gaze tightly on her reaction, Noah slapped the envelope against the palm of his hand. “I suggest we use these tickets. See where they take us.”

  “Us? Do you mean you and I?” Her hand flew to her throat and fluttered like a small, trapped dove against her collar.

  “Exactly. Who’s better qualified to impersonate my brother and your sister?”

  “But, but—”

  “You are a police officer, aren’t you?”

  “Sure. But I’ve never done any kind of undercover work. Shouldn’t you use someone with more experience?”

  Closing his mind to the tangible sexual aura that surrounded her, Noah stood and moved quietly to her side. He hated using Keely this way, but he’d been after the head of this organization for a long time and this was the closest he’d come to getting a break in the case. Dangling the envelope from his fingertips like a lure, he pressed, “Maybe, but I don’t think anyone else could impersonate Rosie. You’re her sister, you know her like a book you read last night. There’s bound to be some kind of test. They aren’t going to hand over a set of currency plates worth millions simply because someone says she’s Rosemary Bannister. You’re the one person who would know enough to validate Rosie’s identity. Besides, if your hair was a little shorter, you’d look enough like Rosie to pass for her. Your voices are similar enough to fool anyone.”

  Sensing a weakening in her resolve, he pressed his last point, the one that made him feel like a jerk for even mentioning it. “You do want to clear your sister’s name, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  Noah handed her the envelope, knowing he’d won. “These reservations are for the day after tomorrow. We don’t have much time to put a plan together. It’s your call, Keely.”

  Keely stared down at the envelope as if it was alive and writhing. She couldn’t do this, just couldn’t. He didn’t realize what he was asking. If she agreed to this impersonation, she was agreeing to pose as Noah Bannister’s wife. To travel with him, share a tiny stateroom with him, pretend to cuddle like newlyweds while they were in public.

  A white heat filled her as she considered the implications. Dear Lord, she couldn’t do this thing. She’d do anything to help clear Rosie’s reputation, but not this. Not audition for a role she’d never have.

  “All right,” she heard herself say. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Good.” Noah’s relief was palpable. “Don’t worry, I’ll be at your side every moment. Nothing will happen to you, I promise. Believe me, this is the only solution. You won’t be sorry.”

  “I already am,” she stated flatly. “So let’s get started before I change my mind.”

  AFTER TWO HOURS of hashing out a rudimentary plan, Keely left the chief’s office. While Noah and the chief ironed out the details, Keely took advantage of their inattention to make her escape. Noah’s nearness as he leaned over her shoulder had suddenly become stifling. Suffocating. Intimidating. Until she felt she would scream if she didn’t get away.

  When she tried to slip out of the anteroom, Erma Rodriguez hastily hung up the telephone. “Keely! Come here a minute.”

  “Ho
w’s it going, Erma?”

  The short woman waved a pudgy hand. “I got five kids—all teenagers—at home. How do you think it’s going?” Erma pointed to her boss’s office. “How are you doin’, hon? I’m so sorry about your sister.”

  Keely shrugged. She didn’t know how to respond when her friends offered their condolences. Maybe she was still in shock, too unnerved by Rosie’s sudden death to fully feel the depth of her loss.

  As if sensing Keely’s discomfort, Erma patted the younger woman’s hand and made a valiant, if obvious, effort to change the subject. “So, what was going on in there, anyway? Who’s that hunk? Nobody tells me nothing!”

  Despite her gloomy mood, Keely grinned. “Give me a break, Erma. You know everything that goes on around here.”

  “I wish! Seriously, Keely, what were you guys doing in there so long? The boss said he’d have me arrested if I let anyone interrupt. So who’s the guy in the sharp suit? ¿Mucho macho, sí?”

  Keely’s lip curled in a grimace. That Noah Bannister was an attractive man was beyond dispute. Unfortunately, he’d long ago proven himself to be a good-looking jerk.

  At that moment the handsome jerk appeared in the doorway behind her. “Got a minute?”

  “If it’s necessary,” she answered coldly.

  He fell into step beside her as they walked to the elevator. “We may not have much of a chance to talk privately tomorrow so I thought we should iron out the details now. If you don’t have any objections, I’ll pick you up at your place about noon on Friday.”

  “I can meet you at the pier.”

  He shook his head. “Wouldn’t it look a little strange for the newlyweds to show up separately?”

  Noah held the open elevator door until she was safely inside. Pushing the lobby button, he continued in a conversational tone, “Any chance we can have dinner together tonight? To kind of…talk things over?”

  Talk? Now he wanted to talk? “I think you’re about ten years too late!” she snapped.

  She walked away, her heels clicking on the polished marble floor in a staccato echo of her rage.

  She’d only gone a few feet when Lieutenant Dale Cabot appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her arm. “Whoa! Slow down, girl. Where’s the fire?”

  Stopping, she blew out a deep breath and looked up into his incredible blue eyes. Most of the women Keely knew would kill for a date with Dale Cabot, so what was wrong with her?

  Why was she so immune to his obvious appeal? And why, oh why, did she still feel that quiver in her stomach when Noah Bannister walked in the door?

  Taking her by the elbow, Cabot led her into the deserted room where they held roll call at the beginning of each shift. He kicked the door closed behind them and backed Keely against the wall. Staring into her eyes with his own startling blue gaze, he asked, “So where have you been hiding? I phoned you several times since I got the word about your sister.”

  She forced a smile and tried to slip from his grasp. When he refused to release her she said mildly, “I had the phone off the hook.”

  “Why? To avoid me?”

  “Cab, that’s not true! I had a lot going on, that’s all. You know my dad’s been sick and Todd fell apart, so I had to make all the arrangements and—”

  “Quit making excuses. You’ve been avoiding me for days, Keely. Since long before the accident. Why? Because you knew Bannister was coming back to town and you were holding out for your old love?”

  Shoving against his arms in earnest now, she wriggled from his grasp. “This isn’t like you, Cab—”

  “How would you know? You don’t know a damned thing about me, and you never wanted to learn. Why won’t you at least talk to me? Hear me out.”

  “Because we’ve been through this before.”

  “I know, I know, you’re not ready for a relationship. Isn’t that supposed to be the guy’s line?”

  Keely felt the heavy pressure of a migraine building up behind her eyes. “Cab, please. This really isn’t the time.”

  “No, you’re right. I’m acting like a jerk and I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t understand you, Keely. You refuse to even give our relationship a chance. Why? Because you’re still mooning over some guy who threw you over when you were in high school. Wake up before it’s too late! Trust me—when I walk out, I won’t be back. You’ll be tossing away the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  “I know, Cab. Believe me, I know. And it isn’t Noah Bannister. Not really. It’s me. I’ve tried to tell you without hurting you, but…but I just don’t have the right kind of feelings for you. Why can’t we just stay friends?”

  “Friends?” Dropping his hands to his sides, he regarded her with his cold stare for several long seconds. “All right, Keely. You’ve made your bed—now go see if you can lure Bannister into it. Remember one thing—when you wake up the next morning, don’t be surprised to find out he’s gone.”

  He slammed out the door and left her swimming in the wake of his wounded pride. She was sorry it had ended on such a sour note, but not sorry that it was over. Cab had said he didn’t understand her. Sometimes Keely didn’t understand herself. The unvarnished truth was that she was holding out for bells and whistles, a man who made her toes curl when he kissed her.

  The pounding behind her eyes was beating like a furious drumbeat now. Keely knew it was her own guilty conscience that was responsible. She shouldn’t have gone out with Dale Cabot in the first place. Cab was a nice guy; he deserved more than she was able to give him, more than she might be able to give any man. Things like intimacy, trust, unconditional love. Noah had spoiled all that for her.

  Raking her fingers through her ebony hair, she thought of the mountain of tasks she still had to do. She would have to rearrange her duty schedule to cover her absence, get some money and her passport from the bank, have her hair cut and pack her clothes.

  And somehow find the strength to attend her sister’s funeral.

  Stopping by personnel, Keely filled out the paperwork for a vacation, commencing immediately, to assuage any curiosity within the department. The chief had assured her that he would personally see to it that the leave chit disappeared before it reached payroll. She was to receive her full pay while on this assignment.

  Another tense moment had occurred in the chief’s office when he’d started to write a voucher for expenses. Noah had stopped him, saying the tab for all expenses would be picked up by the Treasury Department. She could submit a request for reimbursement after they returned from the cruise.

  The implication was that any paperwork handled through the local police was subject to departmental gossip. Although Noah left the words unspoken, they shimmered in the air and the chief once again fired off an outraged denial.

  Noah was able to soothe Kapinski’s indignation, but the atmosphere was charged with hostility. That was when Keely made her hasty exit, leaving the two men to work out their dispute.

  Back at her own desk, Keely ignored Bob Craybill’s curious gaze while she reassigned the work pending on her agenda. When she finally looked up again, he was gone. Oh well, at least by leaving him a memo she wouldn’t have to fabricate any more lies to quench his curiosity.

  Chapter Three

  Keely stared blankly at the slip of paper the teller had pushed across the counter. “There must be some mistake,” she said. “This can’t possibly be my balance.”

  According to the sum penciled on the scrap of paper, Keely’s balance was higher than it should have been. About ten thousand dollars higher.

  “The bank doesn’t make mistakes, Ms. Travers,” the stout woman replied with forced politeness. “I assure you that is your proper balance. Of course, any recent deposits or checks not yet cashed would affect that sum. Will there be anything else?”

  Keely groaned inwardly and started to walk away. She didn’t need this, she really didn’t. Especially not today, with her sister’s funeral only two hours away. Still, she was leaving early in the morning with Noah on their “honey
moon,” and she didn’t want to leave this error pending until her return next week.

  Wheeling around, she prepared for battle with the iron-willed bank teller. “As a matter of fact, there is something else you can help me with. I’d like a printout of all my checking-account transactions for the past month.”

  The teller pursed her lips and stared at her recalcitrant customer. “There will be a two-dollar charge for that printout, Ms. Travers.”

  “Fine.” Keely laughed wryly. “Take it out of this extra ten thousand dollars.”

  The woman moved a few feet away to a centralized desk and clicked away at a keyboard. While Keely waited for the computer to complete its task, her nerves began to quiver, then reverberate as a feeling of dread washed over her. If this wasn’t a mistake, where did that money come from? Rosie? But how and why?

  A moment later a printer spat out a sheet of paper. The teller tore off the perforated sheet and studied it for a few seconds. Then she took a red felt-tip pen and circled one entry.

  Her voice triumphant, she handed the printout to Keely. “As I told you, Ms. Travers, Penwick Trust and Savings doesn’t make mistakes. Perhaps you forgot about this large deposit made last week.”

  Keely stared, disbelieving, at the circled entry. According to the bank records, ten thousand dollars was deposited into her account last Monday. “Would you have a copy of the check that was deposited?” she asked, still hopeful of discovering an error had been made. Perhaps someone had punched in the wrong account number.

  The teller shook her head and tapped the computer-generated page with a manicured nail. “See this code? That means it was a cash transaction.”

  “But I don’t have that kind of money! There must be some way to find out who put it in my account.”

  “Well, I suppose you could speak with Mr. Franklin, the branch manager. Our security cameras are time-coded. It’s possible the security service we use could match the time of the deposit with the appropriate videotape and perhaps identify the person who made the deposit.”