Free Covert Pursuit by Terri Reed Page A

Getting emotionally involved would only lead to disappointment and heartache. For them both. He had no intention of leading her on with promises he wouldn’t keep. He’d learned his lesson with Serena.
    Her lips twisted in a wry grimace. “Me, too. How about you come back in an hour and we can discuss how to play this in the morning.”
    “You’re assuming I’m suddenly okay with you accepting the Corrindas’ invitation?”
    She walked around the counter toward him and stopped inches away to stare him down. A cop move. She was tall for a woman, almost matching his six-foot frame. He liked that he could look directly into her eyes. If she’d meant to intimidate, she’d veered way off base. So much for the cop move. Those pretty, mocha orbs lured him in, making him yearn for something he’d already decided was off-limits.
    “I think once you realize the opportunity knockinghere, you’ll agree that the best thing would be for us to collaborate. I can be your eyes and ears,” she said and pinned him with a meaningful look. “Providing I know what’s at stake.”
    Shaking his head, he grabbed hold of his hormones and stepped back. A small laugh escaped him. “You really are something. Let me see what I can do. I’ll be back in an hour. Can I use your car? I left my truck a mile down the road from the Corrindas’ estate.”
    “Should we go get it now?”
    “No. I’ll retrieve it in the morning.”
    She swiped the keys from the end table where she’d dropped them. “Here.”
    “Thanks. Lock the door behind me.”
    She gave him a droll look. “Like I wouldn’t?”
    “Right.” He slipped out the door and hurried to the car. As he started the engine, he wondered at the wisdom of involving her. But she was right. This could be the big break in the case he’d been waiting for. He mustn’t ever forget his objective. Find and capture Picard. No matter the cost.
    He only hoped Angie wouldn’t be the one to pay the price.
     
    Angie allowed the hot shower to wash away the adrenaline and lingering fear of the past few hours. She’d been shot at, sneaked up on, and Jason wasn’t who he claimed to be.
    That was enough to blow anyone’s mind.
    She should have guessed Jason was some type ofFed. ICE, to be exact. OI—Office of Investigations? Probably, if he was undercover. A charter-boat captain. Ha! Was Jason Bodewell even his real name? Unlikely.
    His unpredictable behavior now made so much more sense. Obviously, he’d been using her and what she’d seen to further his own agenda, whatever that may be. She could only hope he’d realize working together would be a benefit.
    Excitement trilled through her. She could help in a federal investigation. She’d never doubted her choice to become a homicide detective, but she liked to keep her options open.
    She changed into dry sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, combed out her curls, which loved the humidity, and used the blow-dryer just enough to keep the ends from dripping water on her clean clothes. She started to gather the mass to pull back, then decided to let the long curls bounce around her shoulders. Most evenings she kept her hair down, giving her scalp a break from the heavy ponytail.
    Trying to ignore the nervous jitters reminding her that Jason would soon return, she puttered in the kitchen. Outside the storm raged. Branches scratched at the siding, rain tapped at the windows and an occasional clap of thunder made her jump as she set the table while the leftover Italian food heated in the oven. She made a salad and buttered some bread to warm at the last minute.
    A knock sounded at the door. Her pulse bounced. Not taking anything for granted, she put her hand onthe holstered weapon at her waist and moved to the door. She peered through the peephole. The soft glow of the porch light haloed Jason’s clean and freshly shaved face beneath the hood of his slicker.
    She opened the door and admitted him. “Hi. Here, let me take your