Page 8 of Colton’s Secret Identity

She ignored her heart, angled herself a bit closer to Dylan.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” She forced a laugh. “My boss isn’t a cretin, Hawk. He’ll figure out we’re working another job as soon as we don’t push enough of his product to pay him.” Rex gave her a regular supply each week, and expected payment by the end of same week. “I can’t not sell my boss’s product, Hawk. That’s not how this works. And if I agree to work with you, it’s sixty-forty in my favor.”

He stared at her with an intensity that reminded her of how he’d once looked at her with longing. The stony set of his expression was new to her, though. “I’m the one calling the shots, Moni. Do you want in, or not?” Using the reminder of Roni again was enough to infuriate Veronica, to hell with Monique. Every fiber of her being wanted to stand up and leave him hanging. But she was a professional, and if this would bring Rex out of hiding, it’d be worth it. She met his gaze, refusing to let him see her personal angst.

“You’re the one who’s getting the break here, Hawk. I’m considering allowing you an in that you won’t get from anyone else in Stark County, or all of North Dakota, for that matter. How do I know your supply is clean, legit?”

“Boss, with what we can charge for Hawk’s goods, we’ll score so much more cash,” Hank interrupted. “We can let Rex think we sold his supply but we’ll pay him with what we make from Hawk’s.” Hank’s words spilled out in one long toxic dump. The idiot had revealed their boss’s identity, not something she could let slide, not as Monique.

“Enough!” She didn’t have to fake her impatience with Hank. But she did have to pretend to not totally understand the deal. To keep Hawk talking, just as she would if he was any other bad guy trying to get one over on her. Because she now realized that this meeting wasn’t random, wasn’t only about Hawk bringing in his supply to Stark County. Dylan wouldn’t be so deep undercover for Rex’s statewide operation. Dylan, as Hawk, was out to dismantle Rex and his higher-ups, which meant the entire Upper Midwest drug op.

She leaned back and folded her arms across her chest as if considering Hawk’s offer. Frisky—she and Hank, in truth—had been targeted as part of something much bigger if the FBI was involved. Veronica had to rely on her gut instinct with this assessment, as her access to police intel dwindled down to the snippets she received from RGPD Captain Brady via an RGPD officer she met with when she could, and of course whatever Sheriff Colton cut her in on. Dylan had privy to the bigger picture, she was certain, as the FBI had broader intelligence assets.

Had he known she was the RGPD officer working undercover before he’d summoned her and Hank?

What did it matter if he did? Her she was again, five years after she’d vowed to erase the memory of Dylan Colton from her mind. Instead of simply ripping the bandage off a long-ago scabbed heart, pining ridiculously for a man she’d never have would be a lethal mistake. Because distraction from her mission could prove fatal not only to her, but all the other LEOs working this case.

The answer to her dilemma was clear. Veronica might be undercover as Monique, but she needed to adopt Monique’s motive for a healthy fear of Hawk. Dylan was the enemy.

“I had an opportunity for a new business deal today.” Veronica kept her statement purposefully vague.

“I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.” Sheriff Callum Colton’s voice was reassuring in Veronica’s ear, but unfortunately it had the same timbre as his brother’s. She really didn’t want any more reminders of Dylan today. “Good to know you’re making new friends.”

Callum and Dylan were from the same Colton family that was the backbone of the Red Grove community, although not so much the part of town Veronica had grown up in, considered the wrong side by many. The Coltons had a reputation of being professionals no matter what line of work they practiced, and were well respected. But Dylan had never introduced her to his family, nor she to her mother. They hadn’t gotten that far.

She’d never met Callum until she’d met him professionally. Unless Dylan had mentioned her to his older sibling, there was no reason to think that he knew about her connection to Dylan. And there was no reason to think Dylan had talked about her to any of his family, from the way he’d bolted.

Callum wasn’t her regular supervisor, since she usually worked for the RGPD and reported to Captain Brady, but she’d been assigned to the county counter drug task force, and as such, reported directly to Callum on the specifics of the case until she returned to her department in uniform. The task force had grown since she’d joined it, too, as many LE hands were needed in Operation Goose Down.

“I’ve met a new player in the game.” She was always careful to keep her cover, in case Hank or anyone else overheard. She stood in front of the local coffee shop, sipping coffee from her reusable container, hoping she appeared like any other patron enjoying the local roast. Well, any other patron who dressed like a nightclub manager.

“Oh?” Callum’s voice was even, the same way Dylan’s had been as they’d agreed to cheat her boss and cash in on the upcoming shipment from north of the border. She imagined Callum’s blue eyes—the same shade as Dylan’s—widening before he went on. “What have you got?”

“I have a chance to finally cash in on the hours I’ve been putting in.” She bit her lower lip. She risked saying too much, and she was putting Callum in a tough spot. Veronica had assumed he’d know his brother was in town, doing deep undercover FBI ops. But she couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t want to risk blowing Dylan’s cover.

She could never assume that their conversation wasn’t being monitored, either, and not just by passersby. Cell communications were notoriously easy to intercept. Her stomach tightened and she swallowed against the fear that drove acid up into her esophagus. She’d get a latte next time.

“Anything I need to know about?” The sheriff’s concern sounded casual but she heard the words behind his query. Are you safe? Has there been a breakthrough?

“Grasshoppers were my granny’s favorite drink.”

“Gotcha.” Sheriff Colton ended the call. Veronica tossed the burner phone into the waste receptacle in front of the coffee shop. She strode toward the parking garage where her outwardly beat-up vehicle awaited, staying in character with her saucy stride and praying no one from her real life recognized her.

Sheriff Colton heard her loud and clear. “Grasshoppers” was a reference to the stop on the Enchanted Highway where only last year DEA had come the closest yet to stopping Rex’s trafficking operations before they mushroomed into the deadly spiderweb across North Dakota.

During the briefings that prepared Veronica and three other Red Grove PD officers to go undercover for an indeterminate time, it had been emphasized that the scenic spot had witnessed perhaps one of the worst failures by LE in North Dakota since the turn of the century. The “nineteenth to twentieth,” her boss had spat out. The deaths from ODs and gang-related murders last year had overshadowed the mass murder in 1920 of seven of eight members of the Wolf family at Turtle Lake. Turtle Lake was the violent crime previously credited as North Dakota’s worst ever. So far the death toll from Rex’s supply had surpassed any decade ever recorded for total deaths, and was about to surpass the number of homicides over the entire last century.

By mentioning grasshoppers, she’d let Callum know that she’d gotten closer to forcing an in-person confrontation with Rex, and therefore a chance for the task force to bring him in.

Maybe she should have waited to report to Callum about her meeting with “Hawk,” but she hadn’t mentioned any names, of course. And she didn’t want any of her colleagues sideswiped by a surprise meeting as she had. She didn’t trust the men working for Hawk, no matter how much she trusted Dylan. Dylan had been a stellar cop, and his skills, like hers, would only have improved. But those henchmen of his… She allowed a shudder to run through her as she kept walking. Respect for the enemy was key to defeating them.

Chapter 5

It was well past 4:00 a.m. when Veronica dragged herself into her tiny apartment above Frisky. It had been a long night of making sure her best customers were receiving the drugs they sought. It still blew her mind that as lucrative as Rex’s earnings were from narcotrafficking through the nightclub, Frisky was but a single spoke in the very big wheel of Rex’s grip over eastern North Dakota. And Rex wasn’t the kingpin. That credit went to none other than Slim, who, in a rare international cartel partnership, worked alongside Louis Arman, the Canadian who operated out of Vancouver. They were both in cahoots with, and beholden to, the cartel.

Not your problem. Her job was to bring down Rex, the local supplier, period.

“Oof.” Her toes wriggled of their own volition into the cushy throw rug she’d placed next to her bed as soon as they were free of the pointy-toed stiletto boots. Collapsing back onto her bed—an awful double that had seen better days—she stared at the stained ceiling as she pulled the pins out of her wig. It was tempting to doze off right here, but the only time she could be without the wig and the stocking cap that kept her hair tight to her head was while she slept. Hank had never shown up before ten o’clock in the morning, as he worked the same night owl hours she did.