Page 33 of Undercover Hearts
Jenna studied her across the table, her expression thoughtful. "What changed? Something's different since we met with Julia."
Michelle kept typing, refusing to acknowledge the perceptiveness of the question. "Nothing's changed. I'm focusing on the operation, which is what we both should be doing."
"This sudden distance?—"
"Isn't sudden," Michelle interrupted. "It's necessary. The Vancouver operation was compromised, and an officer was nearly killed. We can't afford to lose focus." The excuse sounded hollow even to her own ears.
"This isn't about Vancouver," Jenna said quietly. "This is about what Julia said to you at the end."
Michelle's fingers stilled on the keyboard. Of course Jenna had noticed the exchange and read the shift in Michelle's demeanor immediately afterward. Her observational skills made her equally adept at seeing through Michelle's defenses.
"We've become too comfortable in our cover," Michelle said finally, her voice deliberately neutral. "It's clouding professional judgment—my professional judgment specifically. We need boundaries."
The memory of her former mentor's voice surfaced clearly: "The moment you care more about your partner's safety than the operation's success, you've lost your edge, Reyes." Captain Antonia Martinelli had delivered that assessment fifteen years ago, after Michelle's emotional involvement with another officer had compromised an investigation. The operation ultimatelysucceeded, but only after Michelle's lapse in judgment nearly got her partner killed.
"Boundaries." Jenna repeated the word, her expression unreadable. "After everything we've shared."
"What we've shared was in service to our cover," Michelle replied, the lie bitter on her tongue. "We need to remember that."
Hurt flashed briefly across Jenna's face before her own professional mask slipped into place. "Understood, Captain."
The formal address stung more than it should have. They completed their reports in silence, the distance between them expanding far beyond the physical space of the table. When they finished, Jenna gathered her notes and stood.
"I'll review the member profiles before the interviews tomorrow," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "Goodnight, Michelle."
Michelle nodded without looking up. "Goodnight."
After Jenna's bedroom door closed, Michelle exhaled, shoulders slumping as the performance of detachment took its toll. She hadn't wanted to hurt Jenna, but the growing connection between them terrified her more than she cared to admit. The operation was reaching a critical phase, and her priorities needed to be absolutely clear—justice for three dead women, not the inconvenient feelings she harbored for her partner.
She worked until her vision blurred, reviewing case files rather than facing the empty space beside her in bed. The Vancouver operation details Julia had shared nagged at her—an undercover officer's cover blown, a narrow escape. The PWC network was clearly more dangerous than their progressive façade suggested.
Around midnight, Michelle opened the case files on the three victims whose deaths had launched this investigation. Youngwomen who'd unknowingly ingested a lethal designer stimulant at local clubs. She studied their photographs, reminding herself of the human cost behind the operational details.
Something in the third victim's file caught her attention, a notation she'd overlooked before. Twenty-two year old Beatrice Leblanc had attended three PWC workshops in the months before her death. Michelle cross-referenced the dates with their membership roster. A familiar name appeared: Nicole Padilla. The PWC recruiter had personally invited Beatrice to those workshops.
Michelle's pulse quickened. This wasn't just a tangential connection between victims and the PWC; it was a direct link through a specific member of their inner circle. She noted the new information in their secure file, along with a request for Detective Rivers to investigate Nicole's background more thoroughly.
The revelation heightened Michelle's sense of the operation's stakes. They weren't just tracking drug smugglers; they were infiltrating a network that had already claimed lives in their community. And Jenna—brilliant, perceptive Jenna—was now scheduled to interview Nicole as part of her member spotlight series.
The thought sent a chill through Michelle. She rose from the table, moving silently to Jenna's door. She hesitated, hand raised to knock, before letting it fall to her side. Waking Jenna now would accomplish nothing except revealing the fear Michelle was trying desperately to hide.
Instead, she opened the door just enough to confirm Jenna was safe, her slender form visible beneath the covers, face peaceful in sleep. Michelle stood watching her breathe for longer than she should have, a complicated tangle of emotions tightening her chest.
Returning to the dining area, Michelle sent an encrypted message to Chief Marten, updating her on the Nicole Padilla connection and requesting additional safety protocols for Jenna's interviews.
The response came minutes later: "Additional surveillance approved. Extraction team on standby during all interviews. But remember—pulling out prematurely risks losing our only shot at this network."
Michelle stared at the message, the implicit decision clear: the operation would continue despite the increased danger. She closed her laptop, rubbing her eyes as exhaustion finally overtook her.
Instead of returning to her bedroom, she settled into the armchair with a clear view of Jenna's door.Just for a moment, she told herself. Just until she sorted through her conflicting instincts.
Her professional training argued for emotional distance, for protecting the operation above all else. But something deeper—something she wasn't ready to name—demanded she protect Jenna first, operation second.
As dawn began filtering through the blinds, Michelle finally succumbed to sleep, still in the chair, still watching Jenna's door. Her last conscious thought was that Captain Martinelli had been right all those years ago: she had indeed lost her edge. The question now was whether she could find a new balance that protected both the woman sleeping down the hall and the justice they were fighting to secure.
8
JENNA