Undercover operation, p.1
Undercover Operation, page 1
Peyton looked down at the package. There was something printed on it in black marker.
“‘Gunther’s Scuba Shop, Rock River,’” she read the words out loud.
Spark sniffed the parcel absentmindedly, then wandered toward the bow of the boat. Peyton blinked. “Whatever this is, I don’t think it’s drugs.”
Asher’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Spark didn’t alert,” she said, “and I trust Spark’s detection skills better than any drug-detection test.”
Spark barked suddenly and urgently. A motor roared to the right. It sounded small and aggressive. She turned to see a figure clad in a wet suit speed around the corner standing on a Jet Ski. Goggles covered his face.
The figure raised his arm. There was a gun in his hand.
He aimed it at them and opened fire.
* * *
Pacific Northwest K-9 Unit
Shielding the Baby by Laura Scott, April 2023
Scent of Truth by Valerie Hansen, May 2023
Explosive Trail by Terri Reed, June 2023
Olympic Mountain Pursuit by Jodie Bailey, July 2023
Threat Detection by Sharon Dunn, August 2023
Cold Case Revenge by Jessica R. Patch, September 2023
Undercover Operation by Maggie K. Black, October 2023
Snowbound Escape by Dana Mentink, November 2023
K-9 National Park Defenders by Katy Lee and Sharee Stover, December 2023
Maggie K. Black is an award-winning journalist and romantic suspense author with an insatiable love of traveling the world. She has lived in the American South, Europe and the Middle East. She now makes her home in Canada with her history-teacher husband, their two beautiful girls and a small but mighty dog. Maggie enjoys connecting with her readers at maggiekblack.com.
Books by Maggie K. Black
Love Inspired Suspense
Undercover Protection
Surviving the Wilderness
Her Forgotten Life
Cold Case Chase
Pacific Northwest K-9 Unit
Undercover Operation
Rocky Mountain K-9 Unit
Explosive Revenge
Protected Identities
Christmas Witness Protection
Runaway Witness
Witness Protection Unraveled
Christmas Witness Conspiracy
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
Undercover Operation
Maggie K. Black
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
—Proverbs 3:5
For Gwen the honorary grandma to every child in our church and all those who go out of their way to love others
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Tracked Through the Woods by Laura Scott
ONE
Officer Asher Gilmore of the Pacific Northwest K-9 Unit sauntered down the Rock River boardwalk toward the marina and pier with what he hoped looked like the swagger of a man who was new in town and looking to make friends with the wrong kind of people. The tourist area was bustling, with souvenir stalls and food trucks, along with busking musicians, caricaturists and, above all, tour boat operators urging those who passed to come and experience the glorious Pacific waters from the decks of their boats before the weather turned cold.
It was Asher’s first day of a new undercover assignment as “Dan Johnson”—a Canadian boat operator, newly married to a beautiful American wife, and someone who wasn’t opposed to making a little extra cash by running drugs across the border. He’d grown a beard for the operation and darkened his light brown hair. Mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes to disguise the way he scanned the scene for signs of trouble. His K-9 partner, Spark, an English springer spaniel, walked by his side and was undercover too, with a bright red bandana tied around his neck instead of his usual K-9 vest. On the outside Asher knew he looked confident, maybe even a little cocky. But under the surface he could feel the tension building at the back of his neck like someone had wrapped a thick rubber band around the top of his spine.
He and Spark were used to tackling cases solo or with their fellow officers. But this time they’d be working with the unit’s lead K-9 trainer. Peyton Burns, posing as his wife, “Merry,” was waiting for them at the boat. Asher let out a long breath. He had a whole bunch of complicated feelings about the fact the PNK9’s chief, Donovan Fanelli, had decided that Asher and Peyton should go undercover as a pair of happy newlyweds. In June, three precious bloodhound puppies had been stolen from the PNK9 training center. Peyton had not only been devastated, she’d been determined to find them and bring them home safely. Now they finally had a lead that the stolen pups might be somewhere in the area, and Chief Fanelli had wanted Peyton to be on the mission. As she’d been training Ranger, Agent and Chief, she knew the pups better than anyone. Plus, Peyton was so devoted to her job that she’d even graduated from the police academy and a K-9 training program in order to more fully understand what the dogs and officers needed. Fanelli had felt she brought invaluable skills to this investigation.
But although Peyton would never know it, Asher had actually initially argued against having her with him on the mission. With his own half sister, Mara, currently on the run, a prime suspect in the double homicide of her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend, Asher didn’t exactly have the best track record for keeping the women in his life safe. The need to protect the beautiful trainer from harm was an unwanted complication and distraction he couldn’t afford.
He felt his K-9 partner tug at his leash. Asher looked down. The black-and-white springer spaniel glanced up at Asher and swished his tail to let him know that his keen nose detected drugs in the area. Asher ran a hand over the dog’s head to thank him for letting him know. He almost felt sorry for the pup. The Pacific Ocean’s Salish Sea that ran between the United States and Canadian border was a hotbed for the illegal cross-border drug smuggling trade. Asher wouldn’t be surprised if his partner’s highly trained nose was picking up all kinds of suspicious smells right now. He knew a little something himself about sensing that something wrong was going down but being unable to do a fool thing about it.
Any drug smugglers they managed to bust and put away on this mission would be a happy bonus. Their focus was finding those three stolen bloodhound puppies.
The smell of hot cheese, bacon grease and decent coffee wafted toward him from the Olympic Snacks and Sandwiches food truck on his right. He aimed for it, trying not to look too eager, and joined the end of the line. Two weeks earlier he and Spark had been searching for the puppies in a network of caves in North Cascades National Park with his PNK9 colleagues. The search hadn’t turned up any puppies. But they had found dog fur and evidence the bloodhounds had been in the caves recently. They’d also found a crumpled receipt for the very food truck Asher was now striding toward. What’s more, Spark had detected drug residue on it, solidifying the theory that whoever had taken the puppies was involved in the drug trade.
Someone involved in the theft of the puppies had been in this area, and maybe even stood in this line, not more than a couple of weeks ago. But did that mean that whoever stole the bloodhounds was somehow linked to the people working at this food truck? Or just that someone linked with the theft had been in this area? He didn’t know. But either way he was here to find out.
He glanced around. “Is the line always this slow?” he muttered, to no one in particular.
“Yeah, pretty much, but the food’s worth it.” A voice came from behind him. He looked back to see a grizzled man with calloused hands who smelled of cigarettes and salt water. The man looked down at Spark and smiled. “That’s a beautiful dog you got there.”
Asher felt the hint of a genuine smile cross his face.
“Thanks,” Asher said and scratched his beard. “Smart as a whip too. But you can thank my wife for that.”
Funny how heavily and uneasily the word “wife” sat on his tongue.
“Is that so?” the man asked. He reached out and scratched Spark behind the ears. Spark wagged his tail approvingly.
“Oh, yeah,” Asher said. “She taught him every trick he knows. If it was up to her, we’d have a dozen more of them.”
The line moved forward. Chief Fanelli had once told him that the best undercover stories contained a small kernel of truth. Spark was absolutely crazy about Peyton. Truth was Asher was hard-pressed to think of a K-9 trainer and all-around person he admired more. It wouldn’t exactly be hard to pretend he cared about her.
But it had been five years since Asher’s disastrously failed attempt at a marriage had ended in divorce. That relationship hadn’t even lasted two years. His wife, Lucie, had traveled a lot for work—along with a colleague who Asher later discovered she’d had an affair with. It had hurt him deep, in a way he couldn’t even explain because his own dad had done the
Still, he’d been willing to forgive Lucie and work past it. Instead, Lucie had accused him of being controlling and paranoid. She’d practically told him that he was unlovable. She was married to that same colleague now.
Leaving Asher with the knowledge he didn’t have it in him to be anybody’s husband.
And now his boss was saddling him with a make-believe wife?
Lord, he prayed silently. I’m really gonna need Your help with this one.
“What can I get you?” a woman’s voice asked. Asher looked up to realize he’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t even noticed that he’d reached the front of the line. The woman behind the counter had a friendly face and brown curly hair with gray growing in at the roots. Asher always made it a point to notice everything while on a case. The smallest detail could come in handy later.
“Two coffees, please,” Asher said. “Large. And if you can throw some cream and sugar in a bag on the side that would be appreciated. My wife is the kind of gal who knows exactly what she wants, and if I try to mix it myself I might get it wrong.”
The woman chuckled.
“Smart man,” she said. “How long you been married?”
“Few weeks,” Asher said. “Hopefully it hasn’t been long enough for me to make too many mistakes yet.”
The woman laughed again. Then she nodded at the large red maple leaf pin on his lapel.
“You Canadian?” she asked and poured two steaming hot coffees into takeaway cups.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “My wife’s American. We’ve got a really sweet boat we bought from her cousin, and have been running boat tours off the coast of Vancouver for the past couple years. We’re looking at expanding into some whale watching and cross-border trips. So figured we’d come down for a few days, take a look around and try to rustle up some business.”
He slid a business card across the counter with the names Dan and Merry Johnson and the phone number, social media and website the PNK9’s tech expert had set up for their cover story.
“Feel free to pass my name along to anyone you know who could use the help of a good boat to transport their stuff around,” Asher added. He’d been dropping the same message around town since they’d arrived the night before. “We’ve got our ways to get back and forth across the border without a hassle, and I’m never opposed to making a bit of extra money on the side. You know what I mean?”
The woman nodded mildly as if she didn’t and instead just suggested he get a homemade pastry to go with his coffee. Asher wondered if it would look suspicious if he’d lined up this long and only ordered coffee. After all, he still didn’t know what it meant that a receipt for this food truck along with drug residue had been found while the team had been searching caves for the stolen puppies. He ordered six different pastries to be on the safe side and balanced them on a cardboard tray with the two coffees and a small paper bag of cream and sugars.
Then Asher turned back and caught the eye of the same man who’d complimented Spark a few moments earlier. The man’s smile had disappeared, leaving a scowl in its place. Asher had zero doubt that the man had not only overheard what Asher had said, but that he’d understood what Asher meant by it.
Was he a criminal? Or somebody who didn’t much like knowing there were criminals running drugs in his town? Either way, Asher wasn’t here to make friends, and it seemed he was already succeeding in attracting the wrong type of attention.
Now to keep tossing more bait in the water until hopefully he reeled in something big.
Gray clouds hovered at the edge of the horizon as he and Spark walked through the marina toward his boat. October in Washington State could get downright chilly. Tourist season would be wrapping up within days, so Dan and Merry’s cover story was that they were scouting things out now to launch their business in earnest when the weather warmed up in the spring. The day’s forecast hadn’t actually predicted rain, just a faint and gloomy drizzle later in the afternoon that would keep most people from wanting to go outside. Thankfully nothing but clear skies and sunshine was expected for tomorrow morning, before the storm came back later that day.
He rounded a corner, walked down a gangway and along a long dock toward the slip where Peyton would be waiting for him. The forty-three-foot yacht was sleek with wraparound seats in the bow, a small but well-equipped galley below deck and a large U-shaped seating area in the back that opened to a large swim platform. A nice boat but over a decade old, which Asher thought suited their cover story. It was officially the property of the United States government after having been seized in a criminal raid off the coast of San Diego a few years ago. They’d loaned it to the PNK9 for their undercover operation. It had been given a fresh yellow paint job and hull identification number for the mission, along with a new name—The Mixed Blessing.
The boat came into view. Asher’s footsteps froze and a sudden flash of heat rose to the back of his neck. Two rough-looking louts seemed to be hassling Peyton. She was standing on the dock just beside the boat, and the two men had hemmed her in on either side. The man with his back to Asher wore a backward baseball cap and was so thin that his clothes seemed to wilt on his skinny frame. But the other was built like a grizzly, with a thick black beard, and he’d braced one large paw against the side of their boat, while he leaned toward Peyton like someone looming over a fence looking to see what he could steal.
Spark growled softly almost under his breath. The dog’s tail swished aggressively. Asher wasn’t the only one who had a bad feeling about these guys. His footsteps quickened. Peyton looked up, and even with the combination of a blond wig, baseball cap and tinted sunglasses obscuring her features, somehow he knew that her eyes were locked on his face.
“Danny!” she shouted. “Honey!”
Peyton slipped out from between the men and ran a few steps down the dock toward him. A huge smile crossed her face, as if he really was her beloved new husband. As she reached for him, he instinctively set the coffees and pastries down, his arms parted too, and she tumbled into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck. The smell of honeysuckle and gardenias filled his senses. Peyton’s hug felt so strange and yet so familiar all at the same time. Her mouth moved past his ear. “We’ve got a lead,” she whispered. “They want our help transporting a package.”
She started to pull back, but his hands lingered on her arms.
“Are you okay?” he whispered back.
They were standing so close he could see her eyes blink behind her tinted lenses.
“Yeah, of course I’m fine,” she said. “Are you?”
And that’s when he realized he wasn’t. Between the sight of those two men leering at her, to the feel of her arms wrapped around him, his heart was now beating a million miles an hour faster than it had any right to be. They finally had criminals wanting to bring them into their drug operation.
And if Asher didn’t get ahold of his emotions—and quickly—he could blow the entire mission.
* * *
Peyton watched as Asher stepped back and then he hesitated. She’d felt like she’d been treading water for the last few minutes, trying to keep the thugs from leaving while also refusing their not-too-subtle suggestion that they’d like to take a look around the boat. Although she’d done the same training as the PNK9 officers, she’d never worked as a cop herself and this was her first time on the front line of an active case. She picked up the tray of coffees and silently prayed she wouldn’t let Asher down.
But just as quickly as Asher had seemingly frozen, he got himself unstuck again. He pressed the end of Spark’s leash into her hand and then sauntered down the pier with the grin of a man who was happy to see them for now but who they wouldn’t want to mess with on a bad day.
“Hello. Dan Johnson,” he said. He ran his hand down the side of his jeans as if he was about to extend it for a handshake, but then crossed his arms instead as if something had made him think better of it. “What can I do for you?”
