“Please. Of course I do.” She grins. “And since I know how much you love your undercover work, I took the liberty of adding you and Beckett as the newest members of their private aviationclub.” She reaches into her bag and hands Shawn an envelope. “There’s a number in there. All you have to do is call and let them know you are coming in for your new member tour.”
He opens it and slides out some papers, then arches a brow and looks down at her. “Shep Andrews?”
Jemma grins. “You look like a Shep.”
He looks absolutely annoyed, and it’s almost enough to bring a smile to my face.
Or, it would be if everything I thought I knew about my marriage weren’t crumbling to the floor around me.
“That’s not even a name,” he insists.
“Sure it is. I know a Shep. Super nice guy. A bit grumpy just like you.” She turns back to her computer, and Shawn offers me the packet he has in his hands.
Right beside his photograph and the false name Jemma assigned him is my photograph with the name: Rebecca Andrews.
Shep and Rebecca Andrews. I can’t fully appreciate the weight of a fake relationship with Shawn because my entire focus is on the fact that my husband was a member of a private aviation club, and I knew nothing about it.
I’d been so wrapped up in the fact that we couldn’t have a baby that I doubt I would have noticed if anything was off.
Is that why he was adamant that we needed to stop trying to have a family?
Because he’d been too deep in something he couldn’t tell me?
“You okay?” Shawn asks me, his voice yanking me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “So we’re going undercover?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure, so I took care of it just in case,” Jemma replies smoothly.
Shawn’s gaze lingers on me a moment longer before he shifts his attention back to Jemma. “How did you manage to createthese identities and get us into the most exclusive aviation club this side of the country?” Shawn questions.
“Try theworld,” she replies as she closes her laptop. “And I’m good at what I do. Isn’t that why you came to me in the first place? You guys have too many red lines, and I live in a world of green.” She grins up at him.
“Something like that,” Shawn replies.
“I cleaned up after myself. Your entire backstories are listed there, as well as financial reports and everything you might need to know. There is no record that I ever tampered with their client files, and I told no one about what I was looking into, like you asked. Plus, I even got you a credit card under your new name. It links to an actual account, and I took the liberty of transferring some of your savings in to cover bases.”
He pales slightly. “You stole from me?”
“I moved things around,” she replies smoothly. “You can have it all back.”
“Jemma.”
“Do you want to get killed? Because half-done covers are how you get killed in a place like that.”
Shawn takes a deep, frustrated breath. “Thank you, Jemma.”
She grins at him. “You’re welcome, Papa Bear.”
“Papa Bear?” I ask curiously.
Shawn rolls his eyes.
“Because he’s always looking out for me,” Jemma answers. “Ever since I was a trouble-making teenager who lived next door to his mother.” She stands. “You know how to find me if you need me, but be careful.” Her tone turns somber. “If your guy was dealing with people at Velocity Airfield, then he was into something nasty. Drug dealers, traffickers, arms dealers—the dirtiest of the dirty are members there. If I could find actual proof of it, then I would have given you that, too. But these guys are careful.”
“Do you have a list of clients?”
“In the packet,” she tells Shawn. “You’re going to recognize some names.”
