Snowbound With The Secret Agent

He wondered if she’d needed stitches, if she was released from the ER yet.

Not your problem.

Josh shook his head. “This is the hardest part. Waiting out the losers to make a wrong move so that we can put all of us out of our misery.”

“Yeah.” Kyle didn’t know Josh that well but knew that he’d recently been involved in a big sting against ROC. “How long did you wait before you saved all those Ukrainian women?” He referred to the human trafficking ROC had conducted in Silver Valley last year. Josh had also been instrumental in helping the wife of a notorious ROC operative get out of a domestic violence situation. He’d told Kyle about it in one of their many liaisons like today’s.

“It felt like forever but it came together quickly, once things started falling in place. You know the drill—hurry up and wait. And then be ready to go full throttle.”

“Hmph.” Kyle tried to review the work he’d done the past weeks, most of it surveillance, but he couldn’t stop the image of Portia’s big brown eyes watching him earlier. If he weren’t committed to remaining single, putting his career first, always, she’d be...no. He couldn’t go there. If he did decide to date someone, as he’d been considering, it couldn’t be Portia. Portia was too dangerous, because he barely knew her and couldn’t shake her.

“You’re still thinking about Portia, aren’t you?” Josh’s grin rankled Kyle but not as much as his uncanny ability to read him. Few could.

“Why do you ask?”

“I think it’s the same expression I had on my face, oh, about six months ago. When I realized Annie was more than a childhood friend.”

“Doubtful. I don’t know anything about Portia DiNapoli except that she’s the town librarian, and also volunteers a lot of time at the Silver Valley homeless shelter. I can only hope she doesn’t recognize me the next time I’m there. She’s making my job more difficult.”

Josh slapped him on the back. “You are so full of crap. You had to have done a quick background check on Portia as part of this case,” Josh called him out without hesitation.

Kyle felt his face redden. “Of course I did. But what I mean is that I don’t know her personally, at all.”

Josh laughed. “You’ll figure it out. It’s nothing a pro like you can’t handle, Kyle.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to pass as a homeless person a few times a week.” Contrary to his words, though, he’d learned more from his undercover work at the shelter than what the case demanded. He’d realized that Portia was a very compassionate, dedicated woman. The kind of woman a man didn’t play with romantically.

You’re undercover at the shelter for the case, not Portia.

“When are you going back in?” Josh referred to the Silver Valley homeless shelter.

“Tonight. I’ll look nothing like this, of course.” He motioned to his jeans and flannel shirt. “The other night, I found out that there are three new dealers in town. I need their names. Then I can track down their supplier more quickly with triangulation.” And hopefully directly link it to ROC, but he wasn’t holding his breath. ROC was notorious for its ability to evade law enforcement. But ROC wasn’t used to the state-of-the-art technology and techniques employed by the Trail Hikers. ROC thought they were up against SVPD and the FBI, tough enough adversaries. “I’ve also got to get into the library to do a thorough search for evidence.”

“I’ve seen your getup. You’re right—you don’t look anything like the homeless person you use for your cover.” Josh paused. “You’ll need a search warrant for the library, though.”

“Unless we can convince the local librarian to let me in for a look-see.” Kyle drummed his fingers on the table, alongside his coffee mug.

“Kyle, you can tell me to mind my own business, but what did you do before TH?” He’d lowered his voice, as the secrecy of the agency meant that the majority of SVPD officers and employees had no idea of its existence. They all thought Kyle was a visiting detective from out of state.

“I was a Marine.” He wasn’t going to spell it out—Josh wasn’t stupid.

Josh’s eyes narrowed. “I knew it. The US Marine Corps—it explains how cool you are, no matter what.”

“And my lack of patience while conducting civilian stakeouts.”

“Forget about that. What do you think they’re passing in the library?”

“I don’t know but from all indications, ROC sends thugs from New York into the library to drop intel for a local operative. Then they split. The local person in charge comes in, gets the information, then passes the information to their local network. It’s what TH has put together after collecting information from all available agencies and sources.”

“You think there’s a tip-off going down soon, for certain?”

“I do. It makes sense, as it’s been ten days since the last rash of trailer thefts.” Two truckloads of computer equipment and one of wide-screen, high-technology televisions.

“I’m glad they’re not doing anything more than knocking out the truck drivers,” Josh said, expressing what worried Kyle. It was only a matter of time before ROC left behind their use of chloroform and used weapons that would leave more permanent wounds. Or worse. Escalation was part of ROC’s methods. The minute one trucker didn’t go down easily with a chloroform-soaked rag, they’d up the ante to let the other truckers in the region know they’d better give up their goods without a fight. His mind flashed back to the image of Portia facing down Markova, and the former FSB agent’s knife. He hadn’t ever felt that frightened for someone he didn’t know. Hell, when was he going to admit to himself that Portia had gotten under his skin?

“You and I both know that they’re used to making smaller PD’s roll over and get out of their way. They’re not afraid to hit at officers as needed. They don’t like the press attention, but when it comes down to it, they don’t really care. To them, money and power is what matters.”

“Not on my watch,” Josh said, expressing how Kyle felt.

“I have to admit, Josh, I never know what I’m going to find when I walk into a new PD. Silver Valley PD is solid,” Kyle said without thinking and realized he was speaking from his heart. He took a long, hot gulp of coffee. For over a decade, he’d either been a Marine or Trail Hiker, protected the highest officials of government, conducted clandestine ops and never thought much about his dang heart. But since this morning, and coming head-to-head with Portia, he’d—

“Officer Avery? Portia DiNapoli is here to give a statement and she wants to talk to you.” The receptionist stood at Josh’s desk. “Should I bring her back here or tell her to wait?”

Josh looked at Kyle. “You okay with her seeing you here?”

Kyle wanted to see Portia, know she was okay. It was an unreasonable level of concern for someone he wasn’t personally acquainted with. Best stop it before it began.

You’re already done for.

“Naw, I’ll take off before you talk to her.”

“Can you have her wait a few, and I’ll come get her?” Josh said to the receptionist.

“Sure thing.”

After she was out of earshot, Josh looked at Kyle. “I know you’re undercover for TH, but Portia doesn’t have to know that. She could think you’re a contractor or other LEA, working with SVPD on the ROC case, in general. It’s no secret that we’ve got ROC problems in Silver Valley.”

“I know. It’s the details that are classified, not the big picture.” Kyle’s gut clenched. It’d be too easy to let Portia know what he did, that he was someone she could trust, as he’d told her. “But unless she absolutely has to know—”

“I hear you. And I’d do the same.” Josh confirmed the conservative approach all undercover agents employed. It was always better to stick to the tightest parameters of operational security possible. Then you could loosen up as needed. But once the cat was out of the bag, i.e., a civilian such as Portia DiNapoli found out you were doing something classified or law enforcement related, you couldn’t put it back.

Kyle stood. “I’ll check in after my stint at the shelter tonight. Tomorrow morning work for you, unless something important happens?”

“Sure thing. By the way, Kyle? You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

Josh didn’t say anything for a moment while he grinned at him. Kyle braced himself for what he knew was coming, and it wasn’t unwarranted.

“One word, Kyle. One woman. P-o-r-t-i-a.”

Fuuuuuudge.

It took most of the morning for Portia to be cleared by the medical staff at Silver Valley Hospital, so she wasn’t sure if Josh would be in when she showed up to file a report at SVPD at lunchtime. Annie was engaged to Josh and Portia knew that they enjoyed lunches together during the workweek. She suspected the “lunches” were sexy liaisons, but never pressed her friend on it. Not too much, anyway.

Holding her driver’s license up to the security camera, she pushed the button outside the station entrance. She’d had tours of the police department with the library’s murder mystery book club and remembered the protocol for civilians.

“Come on in, Ms. DiNapoli.” The receptionist’s quick acknowledgment didn’t surprise her. Portia had been instructed to go straight to the station after she left the hospital, to file her report.

“Hi. Thanks for letting me in so quickly—it’s still pretty cold out there.” She began to unbutton her coat in the warm entryway. The receptionist nodded.

“You’re here to see Detective Avery?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where his office is?” Portia noticed that the entryway had a lot of people coming and going.

“I do.”

“Great. Just pass your bag through the scanner and step through the metal detector.”

Portia turned to the security guard who led her through the procedure, clearing her to enter the main building.

Portia walked back to Josh’s desk once the receptionist cleared her. She didn’t have a lot of business at SVPD, except to ask Josh, a high school classmate, if he’d read to the elementary school students when she’d been working at Silver Valley Elementary. And even then, she called or emailed him, didn’t pay the police department a visit. The bustle and sense of many different officers and detectives in constant motion hit her. It matched what she’d read: Silver Valley was in the midst of a crime wave unlike any ever seen before.

A tall man at the end of one of the long corridors made her stomach flip in ridiculous anticipation. Walking away from her, toward the back exit, he could have been anyone. But her body sensed it was the man from the tracks. He was tall, with an angular build that only hinted at his sheer strength—the kind of power that enabled him to knock her out from an oncoming train. Short, military-style hair, a sandy blond. Her gaze travelled down his length. He carried a parka in one arm, the same color as the man who’d saved her wore. Without the extra goose down padding his frame seemed all the more impressive. His butt was all muscle in worn jeans, and his stride in his boots bespoke of stealth. It might not be him, but then he threw her a quick look over his shoulder. His eyes—silver like a wolf she’d seen once, visiting a wildlife preserve. He gave her a curt nod. As if he knew she’d been there all along. Her stomach leaped and she increased her pace, but he disappeared around the corner before she reached him. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk to her. She paused right before she got to Josh’s office. She’d been through a lot today, and she might be seeing things, seeing someone wherever she looked. What were the odds it was the same man who’d saved her from the tracks? The man who’d held her, made her feel safer than she had in a long, long time?

“Hey, Portia. Come on in.” Josh Avery’s smile was as genuine as his quick, warm hug. He kept a hand on her upper arm after he pulled back and peered into her eyes. “You okay? Really?”

Realization struck her yet again that the morning’s events hadn’t been a dream, or an almost-nightmare. She’d indeed missed being flattened by a locomotive, with no more than a second or two to spare.

“I’m good.” She raked a shaky hand through her curls, not caring what she looked like. “I have some bruises that are going to be pretty ugly, but the man that knocked me off the tracks also protected me from the brunt of the fall, and the hard ground.”

Josh motioned for her to sit in one of the seats in front of his desk and sank into his chair. “Did our receptionist get you any coffee or something else to drink?”

Portia waved her hand in dismissal. “No, I’m okay, really. I’m so wired from the adrenaline rush that I’m sure any more caffeine would launch me to the moon.”

“Okay.” Josh tapped on his keyboard and she watched as his eyes tracked the information on the screen.

“Thanks for making time to take my statement. I know the other police officers are just as able to, but I’d feel better talking to you.” And she wouldn’t have to explain her hunches—Josh had known her since they were kids and had never patronized her.

“Are you kidding? Annie would have my hide if I didn’t take care of this. Besides, it’s part of an ongoing investigation I’m working on.”

“Really? You mean figuring out who’s stealing our library laptops, or something bigger?”

“We’ll never figure out who took all of your laptops, Portia. I’m afraid we don’t have enough man-hours. But if you can find evidence on your security footage, you know to bring it in.”

And she did, but their tapes had been wiped. “Um, speaking of that.” Heat rode up her neck, over her face. “The recordings were erased. My staff and I tried to replay the last several weeks’ worth, only to discover there was nothing there.”

Josh’s brows slammed together. “What do you mean ‘nothing there’?”

“There’s a file on the drive that only I have access to, and I open it up for the staff to watch regularly. We fast-forward through it, pause when we see something suspicious. So far we haven’t had any luck figuring out who lifted three computers back in October, and the more recent thefts are even more confusing, as we locked our laptops up overnight. In the mornings, they were gone.”

“Yes, I read the reports.” Josh kept typing on his computer, taking notes. “Did you say you were able to retrieve the security footage back in the fall?”

Portia nodded. “Yes. But these last two weeks, even after double-checking the camera equipment, doing a trial run on the system, we still lost it all. There’s no footage of the library for almost three weeks.”

“And yet the video feed is still good? From the cameras to the monitor?”

She nodded. “Yes. Our security specialist monitors the feed all day long. And we have it set for Record, always. Something goes wrong during the archival loop.”

Josh frowned. “If anyone understands the information technology around this, you do, Portia. I’m damned sorry this is happening at the local library. Have you noticed anything else unusual?”

She shook her head. “No. Except this morning, when I saw the woman trying to break into the back employee entrance. I should have called SVPD instead of taking her on myself.” She inwardly cringed at her transgression. If she’d told Brindle to immediately call 9-1-1, the woman might be in custody.

And you’d never have met the dream man.

She squirmed in her seat. She’d met no one, knew no one.

“Can you give the sketch artist a good sense of the woman—you’re sure it was a woman—who took off for the tracks?”

“Only her eyes—they were blue. And her mouth had bright red lipstick.”

Josh paused in his note-taking. “I see why you think it’s a woman.”

“I can’t be positive, Josh, but I’ve seen that woman before. And the fact that she had one of our laptops means she’s been in the library at least once before.”

Josh paused, as if weighing something crucial. “Look, I don’t want to alarm you, but we’re working against some bad apples right now.”

“You mean ROC? Russian Organized Crime?”

Josh’s stern expression broke into a chuckle. “You’ve been reading the local paper.”

“Of course. As well as the police blotter reports on social media. But laptop theft hardly matches the kind of crime ROC participates in, doesn’t it? I mean, they’d steal a shipment of computers, I’d imagine. There isn’t enough money in a paltry laptop from a local library.”

“I’m not going to discuss details of any case other than yours, Portia. What I’m trying to explain is that there are some very unsavory types running about. It’s inevitable with the heroin trade and opioid epidemic. And that makes people unpredictable. Paranoid. If the woman you ran after has any suspicion that you might be able to identify her, that might put you at risk. I’m suggesting you be very careful. Don’t travel alone anywhere at night.”

“You mean the usual way a single woman lives, Josh?” She couldn’t help but tease him. “I’m not getting a buddy to walk around Silver Valley—that’s ridiculous. But I will be more aware of my surroundings, I promise.”

“And you’ll call in anything out of the ordinary, no more facing down a criminal on your own?”

“Guilty as charged. For the record, I told my staff to call 9-1-1 if they saw the situation go bad.”

“Which they did.” Josh’s eyes narrowed. “We weren’t able to get anything from the security footage, though. The woman knew what she was doing, with a hood and ski mask. I’m not doubting what you say you saw, Portia. But you were under duress, to say the least.” Josh paused. “I know you saw a woman, but I can’t tell you why I know. Not yet. It’s part of the process of taking your report to question what you remember.”

Portia nodded. “I get it.” She rubbed her upper arms as if to ward off a chill in the well-heated office. “After she shoved me, and I took off after her, yes, but I was calm when we spoke outside the library, at the back exit. I saw red when I saw her on the security camera, trying to open it with a tool of some sort. Now I realize she seemed familiar to me, but of course she had that mask on, so I guess I could be wrong. I’m frustrated that I couldn’t get the actual serial number of the laptop. We’re missing more than one and it would be helpful to know which one the woman had. Each laptop has different storage capacities and software applications. If we knew which it was, it might help to know why she was trying to sneak into the back with it.” The numbers were on the inside of the cases, along with library-specific bar codes. She leaned forward. “You know me, Josh. You’ve watched me grow up, for Pete’s sake. If you’re doubting my powers of observation, ask Annie.” She had him and didn’t feel the least bit bad about it. Portia had been the one to encourage Annie to reconnect with Josh on more than professional matters last summer.

“I’m not faulting your judgment, Portia. I’m questioning what you’ve just been through, how it may have altered your recollection.”

“It hasn’t, or else I’d still be in the ER, and you’d be questioning me there.”

“True.” Josh paused from typing in her account and leveled a look at her. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Portia nodded. “Absolutely. The person, the man who...who saved my life, he bore the brunt of the fall.” The memory of being in his arms wrapped around her, and it wasn’t frightening. The woman who’d have happily left her to be hit by the train, that was scary. But the stranger...he was more.

“By the way, Josh, I was hoping you’d be able to help me out. The man who saved me—he wouldn’t give me his name. At the very least, I owe him an apology. Do you know who it was?” She was counting on SVPD’s stellar reputation that they’d questioned everyone at the scene, and the man had been the one to hand her over to the EMTs, who arrived after SVPD. But her memory of that was foggy—Josh was right, she’d had a shakeup.

“Aww, Portia, it sounds like a Good Samaritan.” Josh’s gaze slid from hers, and if the day hadn’t already been confrontational enough, she’d call her old school buddy on it. But not now.

It didn’t matter. If the man wanted her to know his name, he had plenty of opportunity to tell her. And she wasn’t as obtuse as Josh might believe—Annie had told her that there were always cases and law enforcement operations that Josh couldn’t talk about. Maybe the man was part of that.

Or maybe she just had a special place in her heart for a hot man, around her age, who had saved her life.

Chapter 3

Portia ignored the ER doctor’s suggestion to take it easy for the rest of the day and went back to the library for the rest of the afternoon, after she left SVPD. Sure, the almost-being-killed scene on the railroad tracks had shaken her up for a bit, but there was work to be done at the library, and she had to pull her shift at the homeless shelter tonight. With the record-breaking low temperatures, the fifty-bed facility had been overflowing for two weeks solid. As exhausted as she imagined she was going to feel by later this evening, she knew she had a warm bed to go back to, a roof over her head from any snow flurries. The homeless of Silver Valley and surrounding Harrisburg area had few choices. Silver Valley Homeless Mission was one of them.

The reminder of her empty bed stung in a way it hadn’t since she’d broken up with Rob. She had her own bed to sleep in, her own place, but it was always more fulfilling to share it with someone. Rob had been the only man she’d lived with for a short time. The other men she’d dated had, like her, enjoyed their own apartments when they weren’t spending time together. Sometimes she wondered if she was destined to be single her entire life. She’d never met a man who’d made her feel she wanted to be with him, live with him, make a lifelong commitment.

Which was another reason why the train track rescue dude intrigued her. How was it that a man she’d never met had left more of an impression on her than guys she’d dated for months at a time?

She grabbed a quick dinner at the local diner, next to the library, before heading to the shelter. It was no more than twenty-five feet to the restaurant and yet she found herself looking over her shoulder, paying extra attention to the patrons entering and leaving the establishment. And she hated the laptop thief for stealing her sense of safety.

Immediately her mind flung back to the stranger, how he’d appeared from nowhere and disappeared as easily.

“Hey, Portia. How are you, honey?” The diner’s lead waitress greeted her and grabbed a menu. Molly was a Silver Valley mainstay, the woman who served up hot soup or Belgian waffles when you needed them most. Molly sat her at a single booth, knowing how Portia enjoyed eating in the back corner of the diner, with a table to spread her books out on. “I heard you had a little excitement today.”

“I did, and it’s over.” Portia shrugged out of her parka and hung it on the hook adjacent the bench seat. “I called my parents right after, so that they wouldn’t find out on social media or the online paper.” Molly knew her parents, the entire DiNapoli family in fact.

Molly waited for her to sit. “That was smart. I’m surprised your parents aren’t here with you now.”

Portia smiled, still too worn out to laugh. “Trust me, I had to convince my mother that I’m totally fine. I promised her I was coming here to eat, then spending time at the shelter, where the other volunteers are like my second family.”

“It’s turned out okay, but honey, you were almost killed. Don’t treat it so lightly, give yourself a little time to process. I’m so glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

“I appreciate that.” And she did, but she couldn’t keep dwelling on the frightening part of the situation or she’d never feel safe in Silver Valley again. “I see the chef made a batch of pepper pot pie.” She referred to a local central Pennsylvania dish, which was actually a beef or chicken soup with square noodles, not a pastry-crust pie with filling.

“He did, and it smells divine in the kitchen tonight.”

“I’ll take that, and my usual.”