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Mitch sat at the island counter separating a messy desk from the rest of the hodgepodge of a room. It was part studio apartment, part back office. “Back up. Both of you.”
“Is your girlfriend coming?” Missy asked. “I don’t want to repeat myself.”
“She’s on her way.”
“Let me get you a drink while we’re waiting.” Missy headed toward the door. “Soda? Beer? Hard liquor?”
“A beer sounds great.”
When they were alone, Mitch silently acknowledged Kat, who already had a half-empty beer bottle beside her. Almost immediately, Mitch checked off several mental notes about the woman who almost always stood outside the door of Club Night.Military. Thirties. Very gay.Except now there was more personality in her eyes. She was tired, but alert. The weight of being someone else undercover was more easily lifted from her frame than in Missy who, aside from her accent, was almost the same woman as she fetched drinks and kicked up her feet on the wooden table in the middle of the back room.
“You look different,” Kat said when Mitch opened her bottle. “You took off the wig?”
“I’m not playing her anymore.”
“So, it’s an undercover character?”
Mitch snorted. “Too long to explain. Anyway, who are you guys?”
“We’re in way over our heads, is what we are,” Kat muttered.
Missy stretched her arms over her face with a grunt. “It’s fine. I’ve been in way more dangerous undercover gigs, let alone asmyself.” She turned her full attention to Mitch. “They brought me out of retirement for this. Margaret approached mepersonally.She used to be based out of Portland, you know.”
“Is that where you guys are from?”
“Technically, I’m from NorCal, and she’s from Southern Oregon. But yes, Portland.”
“Wait.” Mitch stopped Kat from saying something about herself. “Let me have the honor of guessing, first.”
Kat raised her brow. “Excuse me?”
“You’re…” Yes, it was in the relaxed way Kat leaned against the wall as if she had never seen a dangerous day in her whole military career. “Flyboy. Or should I call you a Flygirl?”
“Never flown a plane in my life,” the bouncer said. “So, you’re close. I believe the technical term is ‘rotorhead.’”
An aircraft mechanic? Interesting.“Where did you serve?”
“Nowhere nearly as exciting as you.”
“I’ve got nothing against the Air Force, for what it’s worth,” Mitch said, while Missy rooted through her purse for something. “An airman was who lifted me out of a fucking ditch in the desert with live fire blowing past my ear.”
“Like I said, nowhere nearly as interesting as you.”
Missy produced her FBI credentials. The picture of a blond woman looking back at Mitch was undoubtedly Missy, but it was also someone who cleaned up too well.
“Margaret said we shouldn’t reveal ourselves to you unless necessary.” The blond sat with Mitch at the counter. “Now you know. I’m a private investigator in my daily life… haven’t been a proper agent in years.” The business card sliding Mitch’s way said a very different name from what she had been given.Stella Moore: Private Investigator from Portland, OR.Stella, huh? It fit her much better thanMissy,which must have been her undercover name. Then again, few people looked at Mitch in her sweats and agreed she looked like a “Michelle.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a story,” Mitch said.
The woman named Stella grinned at her. “Started in the PPB, was poached by the FBI after my partner and I helped take down Xavier Crow back in 2015, then I got shot in the line of duty and things kinda took a turn from there.” She shrugged. “Undercover work is my jam. I just dragged her along for this one because she refused to let me go alone.”
“Can you freakin’ blame me?” Here came the real emotion often hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. “She’s putting herself into a potentially dangerous situation. Again.”
“And you are?” Mitch asked.
“This lovely and stoic woman who is always on the verge of an ulcer is my lovely partner in all walks of life, Jade,” Stella introduced. “Nobody in the club can know we’ve been together for… what… six years? God, I have no idea.”
Jade shook her head. “I think we’ve done well so far. Lister is convinced I’m straight.”
