Undercover Lover

life.

Prologue

Miami, Florida

Roger Kittridge’s fingers clicked happily over the keyboard. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? he said to the computer, craving to himself about his increasing skills in online shopping. He knew he should have purchased the gift for his wife, Susanna, at a store, but then again, it would have taken up more of his time. And that would have interfered with his plans for his luscious secretary.

Roger had used the online jewelry company before only to buy smaller, less-expensive gift items; but he was satisfied that his transaction was secure, though this was a much more costly purchase. Sandy, his secretary, walked into his office just as he was about to complete his transaction. He looked up at her and wet his lips. Young, thin, and willing. She was the best reason in the world he knew to continue to come to work. He could have retired years ago, but at the age of sixty-three, he couldn’t see being at home gardening with Susanna.

Roger watched as Sandy sashayed across the room. Her hips swayed seductively as she moved. With his attention diverted, he missed a momentary flash across his computer screen, which on the surface seemed to be a benign occurrence.

Roger loved the way she felt and smelled in his arms. He nuzzled her neck and inhaled a mixture of floral and citrus. He gave her bottom a generous squeeze as he kissed her passionately.

Sandy moaned in encouragement. When they finally came up for air, he looked at the computer screen. He was almost finished. And after he completed his order, he would be able to continue with more pleasant things....

The computer worked its magic, Roger entered his credit card information as prompted, then hit the submit button. His fifteen-thousand-dollar transaction with shipping and delivery information had been completed. The ring would arrive just in time for his anniversary with express delivery. And he would be in the clear with Susanna.

He received an e-mail confirmation—and so did Jason and Sheldon.

There it was again. Click . . . click . . . click . . .

Susanna now knew it wasn’t a dream. Someone or something had made a noise in the house downstairs, but it was Wednesday—the servants had the night off. She and Roger were alone, or at least they should be.... She prayed that he hadn’t forgotten to turn on the alarm; he was always forgetting that darn high-tech gadget. It had just been serviced two days ago. She debated about what to do. If we call in another false alarm . . .

Click . . . click . . .

That did it! Annoyed and a little scared, she whispered to her husband, Roger, wake up, I think I hear someone in the house. Hurry, call 911!

Pht . . . Pht . . .

Susanna screamed then watched motionless as blood leaked slowly from Roger’s wounds. Involuntarily, she jerked her head around to look in the direction of the shots, toward the bedroom door. The last thing she saw was the outline of a figure in black and the shiny glint of the gun’s long barrel. Horror clouded her vision seconds before the next two shots were fired.

Agent Roderick Radford walked around the blood-spattered master bedroom of the Kittridge house in disgust. He moved his muscular six-foot, three-inch frame agilely around the room. His sharp eyes looked for the smallest clue. The case had been a complete nightmare. Cold hazel eyes indicated his thoughts. Another one—another murder with plenty of clues, but not enough evidence. It was the most frustrating case he’d ever worked on. Well, one of them anyway.

He found himself in Miami, Florida, working a case that seemed to be working him over. Rod was discouraged and dismayed; as a member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Special Corruption Unit, failure was not a part of his vocabulary.

He turned when he heard the voice. One of the detectives from the Robbery/Homicide division of the Miami Police Department called his name.

He had worked to try to establish a pattern between this series of murders, and unfortunately Rod’s time was almost up with the task force. But, they weren’t any closer to a resolution now than before he joined them. He ran his hands absently through his light brown curly hair, his frustration evident. He hated to return to Washington empty-handed, but the task force had not been able to come up with anything solid. Certainly not enough to crack the case. Spates wouldn’t be happy with his news.

Rod walked over somberly and looked down at the shoe print the detective pointed to on the floor. If they were lucky, it might prove to be an important piece of evidence. He bagged the impression of the print to take it back to the Miami CSI lab. Rod grunted to himself as he prepared to leave the scene. With a wry grimace he thought, First Memphis and Helene, now this....

Chapter 1

Rod worked hard to tamp down thoughts of the one person who had the keen ability to distract him from his job. He’d taken the task force position in Miami for only one reason—he’d needed the distance from SCU headquarters in Virginia. Now that the case was closed he found himself about to return to the area. He packed slowly, almost in hesitation. Maybe he would get lucky and she would be on an assignment out of the country.

Rod was disgusted with himself—instead of keeping his focus on the report he needed to make to Director Spates, his thoughts took an unwelcome turn to his time in Memphis. And whenever he thought of Memphis, he thought of Helene Maupin.

Rod smirked, he would probably end up in southern Maryland on parking lot duty if he wasn’t careful. Despite his excellent track record, he knew he had needed to do well on this case. Spates would expect the report and brief as soon as he returned—and he needed to be ready. Ready meant no more distractions.

He threw the last shirt in the suitcase and zipped it up. He had less than an hour before his flight. His personal life and the debacle it had become would have to wait until later.

Six months later

Agent Spates, you have a call from the assistant director of the Federal Trade Commission, sir.

He glanced at the clock before he responded to his secretary to transfer the call. If the call was about an assignment, it must be important. Another division of the FBI usually handled FTC enforcement cases. His voice hinted at a piqued interest. Spates here. What can I do for you?

After he listened for only a few minutes he developed a preliminary mission profile—and by the conclusion of the conversation, Spates also knew which agents he would task for the assignment. Given Agent Radford’s history with the Miami task force, he was the natural choice for lead agent. But since the FTC had also specifically requested someone with excellent computer skills, that brought to mind one of the SCU’s brightest computer specialists. Agent Helene Maupin.

Spates mulled over the situation, and decided after some deliberation, despite their personal feelings, agents Radford and Maupin would just have to get used to the idea of working together again. And with this particular profile in mind, they would spend a lot of time together.

If it weren’t for the fact FBI agent Helene Maupin was such a brilliant student, Professor Reynolds would probably throw her out of her financial forensics class for being late again. Helene checked the time, as if looking at the clock repeatedly would help. She swore mildly under her breath. Darn, three minutes late already! she said to no one in particular.

She looked down at her desk and made a feeble attempt to clear it by tossing pens, pencils, and papers into her drawer before she locked it. Helene hoped the professor realized it was his fault and not really her own that she was tardy. Her nose was buried so deeply in her reading for her homework assignment, she had barely come up for air and certainly not paid attention to the time. She would be almost twenty minutes late by the time she made it to class.

She was lucky her director had been able to get her into the class once registration opened up. Financial Forensics appealed to her keenly developed sense of curiosity. Helene was fascinated by the intricacies of forensics, especially as it applied to money or any other ill-gotten gain criminals worked so hard to hide. She learned about the many ways money could be hidden—offshore accounts, subsidiary companies, and ghost accounts. Helene had the determination of a bloodhound on the scent of its prey when it came to figuring something out. She refused to give up until she was successful.

And the same Maupin stubbornness that made her such a good agent proved to be harmful in some of the other areas of her life. The same tenacity she had for learning and figuring out puzzles spilled over into her unwillingness to give up on an ill-fated relationship. A habit she hoped to break soon. She had been on enough consolation dates. And ten long years of wanting Roderick Radford had finally worn thin.

But in the meantime she had to leave for class. She looked down at her jeans, telltale evidence of her potato chip dinner on each thigh where she’d wiped her hands. With her shoulder-length crinkly light brown hair carelessly pulled back into a ponytail, she had a distinctly college-coed appearance.

Okay, she smirked, and pulled the loose tendrils of her brown hair back into the hair clip—so she would never win a fashion or etiquette contest, but she was an excellent agent and computer specialist. She just hoped that was good enough for Professor Reynolds after she arrived late to class. Again.

Several minutes later, Helene withstood the withering look from her professor and found her seat. By the time she’d lived down the embarrassment, she and her classmates were dismissed for a thirty-minute dinner break.

During the break, she sat alone in the classroom and popped the top on her energy drink. She had stayed behind to continue to study the class material. Absentmindedly, she drew hearts, flowers, and the initials R.R. in the corner of her paper while she consumed her beverage. In the quiet of the empty classroom, she allowed herself some time for introspection. She tried to ignore the initials and the person they represented. But even as she glanced over the course material, he was never far from her thoughts. One day she would admit that to herself and maybe she would stop pining away for him and finally allow herself a real relationship. With some measure of disappointment, she doubted that he was drawing her initials on a piece of paper right now.

Helene shrugged her shoulders in resignation; she had to find a way to get over him. Enough time had passed. Furthermore, she hadn’t heard from him even though she knew he was back in town. How come he hadn’t bothered to call?

There had to be somebody else out there that was more perfect for her. Virginia had to be full of eligible bachelors. She would just have to search for her Mr. Right . . . and if she could just stop thinking about Rod long enough, she was sure she would. After her class was finished she would think about going to visit Maria in Memphis. She could use a distraction. Another assignment would be great too, but she would settle for a minivacation. She needed to get away from the dull routine of home, work, school, and home again that she’d fallen into lately.

Helene flicked another crumb off her jeans as she checked the time. She had another fifteen minutes before her classmates would return. She was comfortable in the classroom and excelled in most subject areas, especially in the hard sciences. She had spent much of her adult life in school or on the job achieving difficult goals. Her personal life, however, was another story.

She preferred things in black and white. Anything that was subjective, like interpersonal interaction and relationships, was much harder for her to understand. Human behavior had always been a mystery to her, that gray area that couldn’t be so easily dissected and analyzed. She felt it always left her with more questions than answers.

Childhood questions that continued to haunt her even in her adult years; like why her father drank so much and was abusive. Why her mother stayed with him and why was she petrified of giving her heart to any man.

She had been out on plenty of dates but they were one-time experiences designed to appease her friends’ matchmaking proclivities. She had made it a rule to date a man only once. Helene’s doodles on her notepad were more purposeful now, as the object of her thoughts seemed to physically reach out to her. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking he gave a darn about her beyond the job. She shook her head to banish those ideas. Rod was her friend, one who hadn’t bothered to call, but ten years of training and working together couldn’t have come to such an unceremonious end. She refused to believe that—Maupin stubbornness, she supposed.

Her hands seemed to have a will of their own, she now wrote the initials R.R. in every corner. Why was he so difficult to forget? Yes, he was gorgeous, smart, tough, and built better than The Rock, but this was no excuse for the hormonal battle she waged every day and night to free herself from wanting him.

No matter where she went or what she did, her thoughts invariably traveled back to Roderick Radford. Why had she chosen to pine over him instead of pursuing a real relationship?

She considered that as one of the great Radford mysteries in her life. She had been in love with him for the better part of a decade, but had never let him know her true feelings. She didn’t want to risk the pain of his rejection, and since he hadn’t bothered to contact her since Memphis, she had to assume she’d made the right decision.

In the time since her last major assignment with Agent Thomas as team leader, she had chosen to concentrate on work. Practicality told her to focus her efforts where they would do the most good. And since her personal life seemed doomed to remain a mess, her work with the SCU provided her with a sense of accomplishment and an escape from reality.

Her work in the pro-male organization had been a true test for her; consequently, she developed some powerful self-defense weapons. During the training process though, she and Rod had become friends. He seemed to see through her, and the relationship they developed was very different from the other male agents in the group. They flirted and teased each other, but he never asked her out on dates or made inappropriate comments to her. Instead, they studied together and forged a friendship based on mutual respect. And that’s when she first began to fall in love with Agent Roderick Radford. He was the first man to show her Jacques Maupin was not the mold for the human male.

Helene was startled by the noises behind her. So deep in thought about her future and Radford, she’d lost track of time again. As her classmates started to file into the room again, she quickly finished the last of her drink and prepared herself to focus on her instructor.

So what’s it like to work for the SCU?

Helene turned around to address the young agent who had asked the question. She smiled. The young lady, whose name was Pat Kinsey, was fresh out of the academy and still looked like she had baby fat on her face. It’s tough, but the best job I’ve ever had. What’s your specialty?

Pat returned the smile. After graduation, I was asked to do forensic work. I know some of this might sound boring—how to track money trails through dummy accounts, but I love this kind of work. With all that goes on in the corporate world, the bureau wants to strengthen the financial program. I’m in this class mainly to monitor the information that is presented to the other agents. A shy smile crossed her face. My team helped develop the curriculum. I’ve watched you during the class and you seem to really understand the work, but . . . well . . . you seem a little distracted. The young agent stuck out her hand to shake Helene’s. My name is Pat, by the way. I hope I’m not being too nosy, but is everything okay?

Helene almost choked. This barely legal, green agent was probably on the same pay level as she was—and she was too darned perceptive! I’m fine. I wasn’t sure that I would be able to get into the class, but I’m so glad that I did—this is fascinating information. Between the offshore accounts, silent partnerships, and insider trading information, it’s a wonder at all that any business would want to stay legitimate. Seems like all the fun is in what you can do to keep all the profits.

Pat grinned. Yeah, seems that way, but it just means sometimes we get a little workout. We’ve got the tools to find even the most sophisticated white-collar criminals these days. Pat looked up. Oops, guess we’d better cut the chitchat.

Professor Reynolds favored Helene with another withering look. Ms. Maupin, so glad you could join us. I trust we’re not interfering too much with your social schedule.

Helene pushed aside all thoughts of the hazel-eyed handsome devil with the café au lait complexion. It was time to give her undivided attention to her professor.

Three hours later, with her class completed for the evening, Helene welcomed the sight of her home in Alexandria, Virginia. Visions of her whirlpool, swirling with sheer freesia-scented bubbles, hastened her pace. She wanted nothing more than to strip out of her clothes and settle in her tub for a long soak. However, when she saw the red message light blinking on her business phone, she knew it was not to be. She grabbed a cola from the refrigerator, kicked off her shoes, and then plopped down on her bed to listen to her messages. Agent Spates had called asking her to get back to him as soon as she got the message—day or night. Helene knew it must be important by his tone of voice.

It was faster to use her cell phone to call him. Taking it out of her purse, she pressed #1 on the speed dial, and it seemed she was instantly connected with her supervisor. Humph, she grunted. Most people would have family or friends on speed dial—but she had work.

Spates here, he answered, sounding as chipper as if it were the top of the morning instead of hours after the end of a normal workday.

Helene steeled her nerves. She hoped the call wasn’t about her poor attendance in class. Hello, sir. I hope you don’t mind such a late call, but I just got in. What can I do for you?

Maupin, good, I’m glad you called. How’s that class going, by the way? You know it wasn’t easy to enroll you in that type of training, but now more than ever I’m pleased it worked out. He paused. There have been some new developments in a case I’ve been monitoring and I’d like you to consider taking on the principal role. Do you have time to come in first thing tomorrow so we can talk about it?

Helene was both curious and eager for the opportunity. I’ll be there with bells on. I’ve just been fulfilling my administrative duties and would love to get back in the field again. She paused, her mind racing as she considered the other agents that she might work with on the case. It sounds intriguing, who else is coming to the party? Were you able to get my buddies Chantal McCorkle or Maria Milbon?

Helene knew Spates would never give out that kind of information over the phone, but her curiosity always got the better of her. His silence confirmed her suspicions. Okay, well, I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night.

She danced around the room and swayed her hips to the tune in her head. She was going to get the chance to be the head honcho! She held her excitement at bay long enough to fill her tub, and while she did, considered the possibilities. Spates had been so mysterious; her imagination ran away with possible scenarios. She worked a mafia case last time. Would this assignment involve some form of white-collar crime so she could use her new forensics skills? Whom would she play this time? Maybe the assignment would be overseas in some romantic location like Paris.

The good news helped to buoy her spirits, especially after the day she’d had thinking about Mr. Radford. Karen from the office had told her he had been back in town for the past two weeks. Every day she expected him to call and invite her to hang out with him, and because he hadn’t she had been in a low mood until the boss called. A new assignment was just the medicine she needed to feel better.

Spates didn’t take his cases lightly; he only selected an agent to serve as team leader when he had a lot of faith in that agent’s ability. So for him to select her as primary agent was a huge confidence booster.

She soaked herself in the swirling hot bubbles. Tonight, she was optimistic that visions of sexy hazel-green eyes and perfectly formed lips wouldn’t invade her consciousness. With a new case to think about, maybe she could go to bed and not dream about being held and kissed by agent Roderick Radford. This case could mark the new beginning she’d been looking for in her life.

She reveled in the glorious scent of her favorite body wash and eagerly used the sponge to massage the freesia into her skin. Feeling much more relaxed now than at the start of her evening she smiled. This could be good.

After Miami he was surprised to be assigned to a mission in the Caribbean, but it was definitely good to be back home. Radford sat back leaning heavily into his couch.... He enjoyed the solitude of his new life. The music was loud and the words were spoken in a dialect of English he could easily understand. Beer and tortilla chips sat on a side table next to his recliner. He had loved the work and travel to the islands, but it also made him appreciate the comforts of home even more after he’d returned—the proximity of friends and family especially.

He reached for the phone to dial his friend Eric’s number. He wanted to call a different number, but he didn’t dare. Too much time had passed....

Hey, man, just wanted to let you know that I’m back. I’m going to have some time off so maybe we can hang out.

Eric greeted him enthusiastically. I’m glad you called. I heard good things from Spates about the mission. Looks like you’re a chip off the old block.

Rod chuckled. Yeah, and I see your ego hasn’t shrunk a bit. I’m just glad that this one worked out better than Miami. That was a tough case and we never did do any more than just chase leads. Fortunately, this case worked and we were able to arrest several local government officials on drug smuggling charges—we destroyed a major drug operation.

Eric responded, So, do you think you’ll be here for a while before you head into the field again. I could use some help at the schoolhouse.

Eric, you know I’d never do well in a classroom. I don’t know how you gave it up—I need the action of being in the field. Right now, even though it’s nice to be home, I’d rather be working on the next case. I know Spates likes to give us a month or two to calm down, but after a few days I find myself climbing the walls. And besides, you know I hate the paperwork.

It was Eric’s turn to chuckle. You’re right. Never mind. So, have you talked to Helene?

Rod’s gut clenched. He should have expected the question, but he’d put so much energy into avoidance it had caught him off guard. After a long exhale he responded. No. And don’t start. Just let me enjoy my conversation and my beer. Better yet, meet me for lunch next week. We can catch up then. Give my best to Tangie.

Rod still felt restless—but he knew it had nothing to do with the lack of an assignment. He rubbed his temples.

After his conversation with his best friend he looked around his apartment in approval. His return home had enabled him to turn his space into the ultimate bachelor pad, a place where he could enjoy his books, his music, and most importantly, his couch. His favorite takeout restaurants were on speed dial, and whenever he wanted home cooking, his mom and dad were a phone call and short drive away.

Yeah, life was good, he thought. He rose from the seat to change the music and switched from Heather Headly to Ashanti. When he sat down again, he took a long sip from his Heineken bottle and felt very content.

In his opinion, to work for the SCU was the best job in the world. He had it all: domestic and foreign travel, adventure, danger, and he worked with people that he would give his life for. What more could a man want? His only problem right now was inactivity.

It was tough to come down emotionally and settle into a normal routine after a hard case. He was still revved up and raring to go. If he didn’t have another case soon, he would consider Eric’s offer. For right now though, he would follow normal office policy. After his three weeks’ leave, he would be expected to perform some administrative duties for a couple of months before he was sent undercover again. He didn’t think he needed all the down time, but Spates had a sound reason for the decisions and policies he instituted. This was one of the reasons he had chosen to work for the bureau and especially for the SCU.

Rod was a government man. The men in his family had a history of devoting their lives to service, duty, and honor through the military or other government service. And for him it was a no-brainer; he was a member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation for life. They would have to kick him out, or like a cowboy, he’d die with his boots on.

Rod looked at a crystal bowl on his side table next to his bottle of beer. It had been a gift from Helene some years back. Despite his best efforts, she had been on his mind constantly since they last worked together, and now that he was back in town, his fingers itched to dial her number. He wanted nothing more than to hear her voice, the familiar lilt that caused his heart rate to increase. Thinking about Helene conjured up all sorts of thoughts and feelings....

Rod looked at the phone again. You’re not going to call her because she probably doesn’t want to hear your lame excuses anyway. Rod realized that he had broken all sorts of rules with her during their last assignment. So, after they had completed their last case, he vowed he wouldn’t allow any woman to come between him and his ability to do his job again. He was reminded constantly that being in the same unit with Helene Maupin was both pain and pleasure.

Before he could continue along that track of thinking, the ringing of the telephone roused him. He lifted the stereo remote to turn down the music before he checked the ID box.

Agent Radford, he said into the receiver after he recognized the number.

Radford, it’s Spates. I know you haven’t been back for long, but I need to run something by you. Do you have time for a little chat?

Rod doubted Spates ever just chatted with anyone. Yes, sir. Besides, I’ve been back long enough—all this relaxation is going to kill me.

Spates continued. "You did good work in the Caribbean, but it’s great to have you back. If you’re interested, I have an opportunity for you to be lead on a