Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (2 page)

That wasn't needy. That was planning ahead.

"I'm gonna go with no," I said. I wanted to keep it simple because if Solomon thought I was giving up on an undercover op so I could play under-the-covers-ops with my boyfriend, he might question my commitment to the job. Also, it was better if he thought the “basic, with no percentage” he casually tossed out was the real problem. The Solomon Agency paid my salary, which covered my rent, utilities, and a few other basics, but the completion percentage was the bonus that made life more fun and the inconsistencies of the job more tolerable.

"Not a problem," Solomon said
, with no hint of annoyance
.
The brief thought that I wondered where he would find another woman, and who she might be, flashed through my mind, but I ignored it.
As I got to my feet, he pulled another file out while holding a hand up, stopping me. I sank back down again and tried not to huff in exasperation. "I need you to do some simple surveillance tonight. Can you manage that?"

"Yes." I frowned at the way his voice cooled. "I guess."

Solomon passed me the file. I opened it, taking a cursory glance through. "Possible cheating spouse case. I've been following Don
Hassell
a couple weeks and there's nothing on him. I think he's clean. A workaholic. The wife thinks he's got some fancy dinner with a mistress tonight. I need you to scope it out, get some pictures. Everything's in the file. You still got the camera?"

"In my trunk."

"Good. Restaurant details are in the file. The wife heard him booking the restaurant for eight. Get there by seven thirty at the latest."

"No problem." This time when I got to my feet, Solomon didn't stop me; but as I turned the door handle, he said, "If you change your mind, call me. I want to g
o
to Fort Charles tomorrow. I'll be back in the office when I can, but you can get me on my cell phone if you need me
otherwise
."

I glanced back at Solomon, but he had already buried his head in the file, dismissing me. "Sure," I said, taking the file with me as I returned to my desk. Leaning back in my padded leather office chair, my boots r
esting on the lip of the desk,
I read through the file, slowly this time. Solomon, as always, was very thorough. I read through the initial case document the wife filled
out when she secured the agency’s services
. It was where we got all her details regarding the job, in this case, her husband. Then I flipped through Solomon's neat, handwritten notes documenting the movements of the man he'd surveilled. Nothing interesting. Could be that the wife was paranoid, or that Solomon just hadn't gotten lucky yet.

I checked my watch. Five p.m. I knew the restaurant, Alessandro's
,
and exactly how to find it. That gave me two hours to kill before I'd have to make my way there. Just long enough to get some groceries, go home
,
and get back out on the road. It should be enough to distract me from why Maddox hadn't called me yet.

I knew going undercover could be hard on a cop. Funnily enough, we met while he was undercover. Back then, he was Adam Sheppard, sexy-but-annoying manager at the insurance company where I temped. It was only after we witnessed the murder of our CEO that he confessed he was
a local detective,
investigating a multi-million fraud, a case that I ultimately cracked.

During the same investigation, I met Solomon, who was working th
e joint taskforce with Maddox
. According to Maddox, however, no one really knew who the hell Solomon was or whom he really worked f
or. That was how I ended up with this job.
I thought a few things about Solomon too, because I had a pulse and he was honest-to-goodness, smokin' hot. But as things turned out, Maddox became my boyfriend and Solomon was my boss, which worked out pretty well for me. Both my days and evenings were now considerably more fun
than they had been just a few short months ago
.

So I had some sympathy for the strenuous nature of the job an undercover cop had to endure, but surely he got some time off from his suspects? He couldn't be with them twenty-four/seven. Didn't he take bathroom breaks? Or go to bed? Or lie and say he was going to the store for some gum or something, so he could call his girlfriend
, aka me
?

I missed him and, without being sappy, I hoped he was missing me too.

I powered down my laptop and
stuck it in the desk drawer, which I locked. Grabbing the file and my purse, I called out goodbye to my colleagues, and headed to the underground parking lot to get my
VW
.

Traffic was a bitch with everyone apparently leaving their buildings the same time as I, but I managed a swift grocery run, a visit to the gas station and a hot coffee to go. It was still warm by the time I dumped my shopping in my second story
West Montgomery
apartment and turned back to hunt my mark.

Parking spaces were easy to find this time of day, so I took my time while driving past to eyeball the best spots for viewing Alessandro's before swinging around and gliding into a space. It was a good place to eat. Smart, sophisticated, pricey. It catered to ladies who lunched, decent dates and making good impressions. I'd been there a few times and my sister, Serena, was a regular
until she had a baby and instigated a divorce from her philandering husband
.

Solomon seemed to think the mark
was a sure thing. With some luck, I wouldn't have to waste my whole evening freezing my butt off in the car when I could be doing something more useful. Like painting my nails
,
or, or... I couldn't think of anything and that was sad. Had my life suddenly come to this? Where it was more interesting to hang out on the side of a street, waiting to snap surveillance photos of some scumbag
?
No, wait. I'd forgotten Lily.

Pulling a face, I rummaged in my jacket pocket for my phone and called her.

"Are you ready?" she screamed down the line. I held my phone at arm's length from my ear.

"I can't make it until later," I told her
as I checked out the pedestrians
. "I got stuck with a surveillance job. I should be done by eight thirty.
I’ll be back around nine.
"

"No problemo, dudette. Don't be late. Tequila waits for no woman."

"Don't start without me."

I hung up, sighing at my bad luck as I fiddled with my camera. I retrieved it from my trunk earlier, pulling off the lens cap while simultaneously
continuing to scan
the area. No sign of Don Hassell
on the street yet. Maybe he was already inside one
of the coffee houses
, or browsing some of the boutiques. I checked the photo. Don was a chubby businessman in his late forties. Nice, navy blue suit, crisp, white shirt and blue striped tie.
He was losing his hair and the years
hadn't been kind; he had jowls and a red nose. No, not a boutique man. Maybe a bar?

All the same, I started with the buildings closest to me, running my eyes over the various people taking seats and approaching the bars. No one fit his description.
Twisting in my seat,
I turned to the sidewalk across the street. It seemed like it was predominantly a late, after-work crowd tonight; the men and women were mostly still suited, a few couples on dates, but not many
yet
.

And that's when I saw them.

He wore dark pants and an open-necked, blue shirt underneath a smart sports coat. His hair was beginning to get a slightly unruly look from his obvious avoidance of the barber. His arm was slung around a pretty woman. She looked a couple years older than I, with a sweetheart face and dark hair drawn back in a ponytail that swung in a smooth, glossy wave behind her. I felt my heart stop as s
he reached up and patted his
hand. He smiled down at her affectionately before opening the restaurant door and ushering her in.

If this were my surveillance guy, I would have been happily snapping away, but it wasn't. This was Adam Maddox, and I think my heart might have stopped for a moment or two. I watched, tran
sfixed, as a waitress took
my boyfriend and the pretty woman to a table where another couple waited. I stared, nearly catatonic
, as the four shook hands and
exchanged kisses.

If I weren't mistaken, my boyfriend was on a date. A double date. Not exactly the undercover job he told me he w
as working on
weeks ago, the last time I saw him. Unless it was, I thought with a steaming fury, an
under-
her
-covers
job.

I gr
abbed my cell phone and re-dial
ed.

"Hello," Lily's voice chirped into my ear
.

"I'm going to kill him," I said.

"Super awesome. Who?"

"Maddox," I said though gritted teeth as I watched the woman place her hand on Maddox's arm
. Her fingers curled around
it in a manner that seemed way to
o
familiar.

"Um, I guess this is where I ask why?"

"You know I said he went undercover?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I'm sitting outside Alessandro's, watching him and a woman
sit down for
dinner with another couple. He’s on a double date!"

Lily gasped. "In Alessandro's!"

"No, that new place across the street. It's Japanese, I think."

"Oh, right. I know
it. I went there with
Ruby
Kalouza
and they have the best California rolls."

"I don't care about the California rolls. He had his arm around her!"

"You sure he isn't working? Or maybe they’re his colleagues?"

"I've never seen them before and I know everyone." This was true. Thanks to living in Montgomery my entire life, and having a family the size of a small police force, not to mention, most of them serving as cops, I had seen just about everyone with a badge at one time or another. This woman I did not recognize. Nor did I recall ever seeing the other couple.

"Maybe they're friends," persisted Lily, who could see no bad in anyone, which was exactly why I loved her.

I made a strangled noise as I watched the table. "She just kissed him and he gave her one of those hug squeezes."

"What kinda kiss?"

"Cheek."

"So... good friends. Family?"

I trained my camera on them, zooming in. "I can see under the table and she has her hand on his thigh."

"Maybe she isn't good with boundaries?" Lily said hopefully.
“Maybe she’s European? They’re very tactile.”

I watched as Maddox folded his hand around hers and brought it up to the table, laying their hands between place settings. My heart raced. "Neither is he, by the looks of it;
and he’s definitely American
.
I’ve seen his passport.
"

"Look, don't jump to conclusions, okay? Maddox is a good guy. Why don't you call him?"

"Sure!" I snorted.

"He's your boyfriend. You should be able to call him any time.
Maybe he’ll just tell you what he’s doing and you won’t have to worry.
"

She had a point. "I guess."

"
I’m sure it’s nothing.
Call me right back."

Lily hung up. With my heart pounding, I hit “speed dial” and called Maddox. I watched as he reached into his jacket pocket, glanced at the screen and... hung up on me! I didn't wait for the robotic voice to invite me to leave a message. I hung up and dumped the phone on the passenger seat with a frustrated sigh. I watched them as they ordered
, laughing with the waitress.
While their wine was poured, it took all my restraint not to go over there and march in, demanding to know exactly what Maddox was doing.

Despite my furious indignation, I reminded myself of my actual job. Every so often, I scanned the street as well as the nearby glass window fronts, looking for my mark. Finally I hit pay dirt, squeezing off a couple shots before Don
Hassell
disappeared from view. No cheating there, by the looks of it, unless it was with
the
two middle-aged men
he strolled in beside
. Well, really, who knows?
I watched them a little longer without a hint of flirting, fired off a few more shots and lay my camera on the seat.
That done,
all I could do was fume.

As I watched, cell phone in hand, wondering what to do next
—go
home or torture
myself some more—the
woman leaned over and planted a kiss on Maddox's lips, just as he turned his head towards her. I saw red. Holding up my phone, I zoomed in and snapped a photo, watching as it
froze
on the screen.