Wild Card Undercover Read online

  “Of course I would, but I don’t see any way. I don’t have the money that Eddie lost to Mr. Moreno, I have no way of getting it, any legal way that is, and I won’t take the money from anyone else. This is my problem to deal with. I don’t need help.”

  “Well, I could use a little help and you might be the right person to assist me.”

  This was a big risk, asking her to help with the case. She could run back to Moreno and tell him about the undercover operation. Her background check was clean and Dave trusted her. The man was Miami PD and made it seem like she’d jump at the chance to get out of here. This stubborn streak might make it a little harder to convince her.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “The Miami PD has been aware of Moreno’s illegal activities for a while now. My department recently got involved assisting in the investigation. Moreno does a lot of business by the pool at The Ocean Terrace Resort during the day and the owner isn’t thrilled about it. He’s providing the suite for the FBI to use. As for the club, apparently Moreno does business during the card games in the back room at night. You seem to walk in and out easily. That could help us.”

  She stayed silent for a few moments, her eyes showing she was far from being convinced. “What do I get out of this? Mr. Moreno is dangerous. He pushes people around for his own enjoyment. He broke Eddie’s hand simply for mouthing off.”

  “Which is why we need to get him off the streets. Too many people hurt or worse from all his illegal activities. You stay in that back room for a half hour or more at times. Do they ever discuss shipments or business?”

  She nodded. “They talk business a lot, depending on who’s playing. I don’t pay much attention to it. I figure it’s better if I don’t know.”

  “What is it you’re doing back there?”

  Her face turned pink. Was she doing what he first suspected? She was desperate, but he hated to think of her in that scenario--although it shouldn’t matter to him as long as she helped his cause.

  “Sitting and doodling.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Moreno and his buddies are lechers. They like to stare at my butt and legs. The customers in the club do too, but this way I get to lean against a stool and give my feet a rest.”

  “Well, Margaret--”

  “Meg,” she interrupted with a wry smile. “Back home, my friends call me Meg. My grandmother is the only one who calls me Margaret.”

  He grinned. Maybe he was getting somewhere with her. “Meg, I’m not going to lie. It could be dangerous, but if you help us, it will put Moreno behind bars. You won’t owe him anything anymore. Once you testified, you’d be free to go home. What do you think?”

  Emotions played across her face. Which one would win out? Determination blazed and she nodded confidently.

  “You’d have to remember exactly what was said; names, dates, times and locations.”

  She nodded again. “I could write it on a napkin. They’re used to seeing me doodle.”

  “They couldn’t see what you were writing,” he warned. “You’re right. Moreno is dangerous. If he caught you spying--”

  She visibly swallowed. “He’d kill me. I know that. But Mr. Moreno and his buddies don’t have a high opinion of women. They think they’re all stupid and only good for one thing. They wouldn’t realize one of their cocktail waitresses was smart enough to understand what they were talking about. As for taking notes, that’s the easy part. My mom taught me shorthand when I was in high school. My friends and I used to use it as a secret code. It looks like scribbles. I could add a few little pictures to it and they’d never know what I was writing.”

  “That might work.” This plan was starting to come together. Now for the next step. “There is one other thing. You can’t stay here. This place is a pit and you’ll need an excuse to get me the information. You can move into the hotel suite with me.” His hand lifted to touch her bare arm.

  Meg’s face grew tight as she shook him off. Oops, wrong move. Her eyes narrowed and she ground out, “No way. I’d do almost anything to get away from this crappy life, but I’m no sleazy tramp that’ll jump in your bed to keep you satisfied. My actions and clothes may be suspect but if I had no morals the way you think, I would have taken Moreno up on his offers. You can forget it. That part of me is not for sale.”

  He chuckled at her feisty little diatribe. He liked that she wouldn’t bend her morals or scruples to make her situation better. It reinforced his idea that he could trust her to keep his secret, and help put Moreno away for good.

  “Meg,” he said softly, trying to calm the rising storm. “It would be perfectly respectable. The suite is huge. You’d take the bedroom and I’d sleep on the couch in the living room. We would have to maintain a cover story that we’re a couple, but I promise, you’ll be safe and respected. It would be extremely unprofessional of me to sleep with an informant.”

  “An informant?” She looked curious. “That’s what I would be?”

  “Yes, and if you were still living here, I’d worry about you too much. It’s not safe.”

  “I’ve been fine for a year and a half by myself,” she defended. “How do I know you’re actually FBI? That badge could be fake.”

  He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. “Call information and get the number for the Baltimore field office of the FBI. Somebody there will be able to vouch for me.”

  Meg narrowed her eyes but pressed the buttons on his phone for information. She scribbled the number on a scrap of paper then dialed it. He gave her an extension to use.

  “A man claiming to be Agent Christopher Shaunessy is here with me right now,” she told the person who answered. “He says you can vouch for him.”

  She listened for a second then handed the phone to him. “She wants to talk to you.”

  He took the phone. “This is Shaunessy.”

  “Shaunessy, you still owe me a pizza for taking care of your plants last time you were out of town. Who’s watching them now?”

  Chris laughed as Shelley scolded him. “I decided plants and I weren’t meant to be together,” he told the mother of two and grandmother of six, who did all sorts of errands for him when he was away. “I donated them to a nursing home.”

  He hadn’t wanted the plants to begin with. An old girlfriend had brought them over. When things ended between them, as they always did, she didn’t bother taking them. The plants hadn’t been missed any more than the old girlfriend.

  He handed Meg the phone. “Shelley will vouch for me.”

  She listened again then hung up, returning the phone. Her eyes narrowed and she still seemed uncertain. Finally, she relaxed a bit. “As long as you promise to be a gentleman and no shenanigans, then…you’ve got a deal.”

  “I’ll be a true gentleman.” He stifled the smirk rising to his lips. “No shenanigans, promise. Pack your stuff. I’ve still got the cab waiting by the curb.”

  She grabbed a backpack from under the bed and went to work. He checked out the tiny room. How could she live here? The place was disgusting. She had cleaning supplies galore but there were holes in the walls and ceiling, and cracks in the floor. Her refrigerator was pitiful, with a small bottle of ketchup, a jar of olives and not much else. No wonder she was so thin. He’d have to do something about that. Good thing he liked to cook. Within a few minutes she was ready.

  “We can let your landlord know tomorrow that you won’t be back,” he suggested, opening the door for her.

  She placed the key on the counter near the sink. “I’ll leave the key here. I think he’ll get the message.”

  Lifting her bag to his shoulder, he began walking down the hall.

  * * * *

  Meg didn’t even look back as she followed Chris down the stairs. Was she doing the right thing? It sounded too good to be true. Was it foolish trusting him, like she’d trusted Eddie? If Moreno found out she was spying she’d be dead, no doubt. But if there was any way to get out of this, she’d
take it. She’d had a few opportunities to run in the past but had never wanted to take the chance. There was still her missing phone and the picture of her family. Was there enough information in it to trace where she came from?

  Once back at the hotel and in the elevator, she risked a peek at Chris. Could they get enough evidence to put Moreno away for good? He was gambling big time by trusting her to do this job for him. If she failed it would be bad for him--but far worse for her.

  Inside the elegant suite, he moved up behind her, putting a gentle hand on her arm. She closed her eyes. The contact shouldn’t be this enjoyable.

  “You must be exhausted. Climb in bed and get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning. Or sleep until the afternoon, and we can discuss it then.”

  She smiled gratefully and for the first time no zippy comeback came to mind. “I can take the couch since I’m smaller. You keep the bed. It’s okay. It’s probably more comfortable than the mattress I was sleeping on anyway, and much cleaner.”

  He steered her to the bedroom door. “You’ll stay in here until we’re done with this case. I may have to cut through to use the bathroom on occasion, but you’re safe here. You have my word.”

  He gave her a push and she moved in slowly. She closed the door most of the way, then moved to the bathroom to change into a comfortable pair of shorts and a loose tank top. Within seconds, she was sighing into the most heavenly sheets and mattress she had ever slept on. Her mind drifted to her predicament. Did she actually have a winning hand here or was this the biggest bluff of her life?

  Chapter 4

  Chris peered through the small opening into the bedroom. Meg was still asleep. The soft glow of the light slipping past the door caressed her serene features. Her face was more relaxed than he’d seen it the last few days. A tiny smile played about her lips, making her appear angelic.

  She was a wild card though. Trusting her could be dangerous. She could be dangerous. But he’d promised her, and control was his middle name. A means to an end, that’s all she was. He couldn’t forget the promise he’d made to himself. Never get involved. The results could be fatal.

  Glancing at his watch, he shook his head to get rid of the negativity. It had been way past three when they’d gotten back to his suite, but he had things to do today and the couch wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the bed.

  He hadn’t minded sleeping there knowing she was safe and not in that scummy room surrounded by the dregs of the city. And this hotel was high end enough that even the couch was better than what he usually slept on.

  He moved away from the door and concentrated on the one-sided conversation he was having with his mother. She was going on about some new boyfriend his younger sister, Erin, had.

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Mom. She’s twenty-seven and a big girl now. She’s got a full-time job and her own apartment. It’s time you let her make her own mistakes.”

  “I know, Chris, it’s just that as parents you worry about your children making bad choices. You want to protect them from anything harmful. Your father doesn’t get a good feeling around this new young man.”

  He didn’t honestly care what his father thought. The man had made his own share of mistakes, huge ones. Ones Chris wasn’t ready to forgive.

  “Don’t worry about Erin, she’s a smart girl. She’ll figure things out. I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now. I just wanted to let you know I may be in and out of contact for a while.”

  “Why, where are you going?”

  He chuckled. “I’ve already gone. I’m down south on a case. It’s an undercover assignment so I can’t always check in to let you know I’m fine.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  He rolled his eyes, grateful his mother couldn’t see him. She’d give him hell for being disrespectful. “No more dangerous than anything else I do. This assignment is sweet. I’m staying in a fancy resort and checking out the nightlife.”

  “And you’re getting paid for this. I should get a job with the FBI. I can hang out by the pool and go clubbing as well as the next person.”

  She was kidding of course, but he simply laughed. She worried about everything he did. It was part of being a mom. Having almost no communication with her when he’d been over in Afghanistan a few years ago hadn’t helped. Back before he joined the Bureau. Now he tried to call her at least once a week to assure her everything was okay.

  “I’ll call when I can but don’t call me. I don’t have my regular phone and I may not always be in a position to answer if it rings. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do, Christopher.” Ooh, she was using his full name and sounding snippy. His gut clenched knowing he’d hurt her feelings. He hated doing that.

  “I’m sorry. I know you do. I’ll try and call when I get a chance.”

  “I appreciate that. Make sure you’re careful and remember we love you. I’ll let your father know you called.”

  Not that his father would care. Chris had barely said a full sentence to the man in five years. After what Dad had done to Mom, he was lucky he’d gotten even that much. His whole life he’d been taught Women were to be treated with respect. Over and over his father had made sure he followed that creed. The man had hammered that into him from a young age, then he’d gone and fooled around on Mom. The thought of it still rankled and made his blood boil. Dad had done too good a job of instilling respect in him. Too bad he hadn’t followed it himself. The betrayal still stung and Chris wondered how Mom had forgiven the man and moved on. His jaw grew tense at the thought.

  “I’ll talk to you soon, Mom. I love you.”

  She hung up and he moved to the living room balcony overlooking the pool, opening his laptop to check his e-mails. He’d spoken with his supervisor, Chet Doolittle, this morning explaining his plan to use Meg to get actual names and shipment dates if possible. As suspected, the man had reservations but Chris had assured him he’d take full responsibility for her. He wasn’t too concerned though; he’d done his homework where Margaret Kathleen O’Hara was concerned.

  She’d grown up in a small town in Pennsylvania, had done well in school and had been putting herself through college. Until she’d gone off with the bad boy, Eddie. Without a last name though, he hadn’t been able to find any information on the guy. It was probably just as well since he’d be tempted to snap his neck for what he’d done to Meg. The poor girl had naïvely trusted him and he’d blown it, big time, leaving her paying his tab.

  Chris had sifted through her backpack earlier this morning. Not much there. Flip flops, a few pair of shorts and shirts, a pair of well-worn jeans with holes starting in several places and some undergarments. Aside from that and a few cheap toiletries there wasn’t anything else. No cell phone or other electronic devices of any kind and no other personal effects. No sign of a license or identification either.

  In her case the lack of identification had worked in her favor. She’d managed to get away with using a fake name for over a year. And she had kept her family completely in the dark about what had happened to her. He’d hate doing that to his mom but he understood why Meg had.

  Her family was frantic about her disappearance, calling the FBI field office in Philly every few months. He’d spoken with the agent who had originally taken the report but asked him to keep things quiet until they were able to close this case. It couldn’t be jeopardized because someone in her family decided to come down to Miami to see her. The Bureau couldn’t afford that. He hated to wait but he’d make it a point to call them himself as soon as things were more stable.

  He pulled up the file he’d started on Moreno then changed screens to the information on Meg. Poor girl didn’t belong here. She was a good person and hadn’t been in any trouble with the law. One form reported she’d be turning twenty-six in about a month. Eighteen months she’d wasted here in this place paying off a debt that wasn’t hers.

  A noise grabbed his attention and he looked into the living area to see Me
g’s back disappearing into the bedroom. She must have grabbed her backpack so she could get dressed. She’d most likely be hungry when she came out. He closed his laptop, depositing it on the coffee table then started putting together a little plate for her. When she came out a few minutes later, wearing the frayed jeans and a pink t-shirt, he nodded at the table indicating she should sit.

  “Good morning.” He smiled then glanced at his watch and revised, “Well, maybe it’s good afternoon. Thought you might be hungry.”

  Her eyes lit up as she settled herself at the table. “Thank you, yes, I am.”

  He hid a chuckle as she attacked the fruit on the plate. “Would you like some coffee? I have a pot made. I also have juice or could boil some water for tea.”

  She finished chewing the piece of cantaloupe she’d been devouring and said, “Juice would be great. Thanks. I didn’t mean to sleep so late but the bed was amazingly comfortable. I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to get me out of here now.”

  He poured juice into a glass and sat opposite her. “Glad you enjoyed it. Not everyone sleeps well in a new bed. Obviously it didn’t affect you.”

  She looked up, sheepish, taking a big bite of the cinnamon muffin in her hand. “I’m so tired after work I could probably sleep on the side of the road.”

  “I wouldn’t suggest trying that around here. You’re more than welcome to keep using the bed.”

  Grabbing for a juicy, red strawberry, she rolled her eyes. When was the last time she’d eaten? He’d have to make sure to get some good food in here for her. She needed to be full strength. Hopefully she liked home cooking as room service hadn’t been part of the deal with the hotel.

  He was sure she was a strong one considering what she’d been through the last year or so. She’d have to be to continue day after day on her feet then go home to that shithole of a room. Her determination in keeping her family safe was admirable.

  “So, what are the plans for today?” she asked as she shoved the rest of the muffin into her mouth.