Page 7 of Undercover Hearts
Captain Reyes. Michelle. Jenna repeated the name silently, still adjusting to the idea of referring to her superior by herfirst name, even in her thoughts. The captain's reputation had preceded her to Coastal Heights—one of the youngest women to make captain in Phoenix Ridge PD history, legendary focus, and a case closure rate that had set department records.
What the rumors hadn't mentioned was her presence—the intensity of her dark eyes, how she commanded attention without raising her voice, the precise economy of her movements. Or how unexpectedly disconcerting it had been to be the focus of her complete attention during their meeting.
Jenna shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. Professional assessment only. The operation required them to present as a convincing couple, which meant understanding Captain Reyes' mannerisms and patterns well enough to interact with the natural rhythm of long-term partners. Nothing more.
She zipped the last bag closed, mentally reviewing the cover story details she'd been memorizing since yesterday. They would need to be flawless under scrutiny, especially given the PWC's reputation for thorough vetting of new members.
This wasn't her first undercover operation, but it was certainly the most significant. In Coastal Heights, she'd worked alone, establishing her own cover and managing her own risks. This partnership dynamic added layers of complexity she hadn't navigated before.
Jenna had always been drawn to challenging situations, seeking them out with an almost instinctive pull toward the uncertain and difficult. Her Academy instructors had noted it in her evaluations.
That same instinct had led her to request the transfer to Phoenix Ridge, seeking more complex cases than Coastal Heights could offer. And now it had landed her in a high-stakes operation with a partner who was essentially a stranger, one she would need to convince others she was intimately familiar with.
"Just another challenge," Jenna told herself, gathering her bags. But as she locked her apartment and headed for her car, she couldn't quite silence the flutter of uncertainty in her stomach—not about the operation itself, but about the woman she'd be partnered with for the foreseeable future.
Captain Michelle Reyes was intimidating in all the ways that mattered—professionally accomplished, intensely focused, and undeniably attractive in a way that commanded attention rather than invited it. Working closely with her would require every bit of Jenna's undercover training and then some.
Jenna settled her bags in the trunk of her car, her expression resolving into determination. She hadn't come to Phoenix Ridge to play it safe. She'd come for exactly this kind of challenge—the kind that would either prove her exceptional abilities or reveal her limitations.
Either way, she was about to find out.
The Phoenix Ridge Police Department training facility occupied a nondescript building six blocks from headquarters. Jenna arrived fifteen minutes early, parking beside the only other car in the lot—a sleek black sedan she assumed belonged to Captain Reyes. Her assumption proved correct when she entered the facility's small lobby to find Michelle waiting, dressed in dark slacks and a crisp blue button-down, hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail.
"Detective Walsh," Michelle acknowledged with a nod. "Follow me."
Jenna matched her stride as they moved through the building, noting how Michelle navigated the space with the familiarity of someone who'd spent countless hours here. They passed a shooting range, gym, and several classrooms before Michelle unlocked a door marked "Simulation Room 3."
Inside was a surprisingly realistic apartment setup—living room, kitchenette, and what appeared to be a bedroom visiblethrough a partially open door. The furniture was generic but convincing, family photos on shelves featuring strangers, and a bookcase filled with actual books rather than props.
"We use this for domestic scenario training," Michelle explained, setting her bag on the counter. "Today is our relationship workshop."
Jenna felt a flutter of nervousness that had nothing to do with the operation and everything to do with being alone with Michelle in a space designed to simulate domestic intimacy.
Michelle seemed oblivious to any undercurrent, immediately unfolding documents on the small dining table. "Let's begin with a comprehensive review of the Phoenix Women's Collective."
For the next hour, Michelle outlined the organization's structure, key members, and suspected criminal activities. Jenna took minimal notes, relying instead on her memory—a technique that had served her well in previous undercover work where written records could compromise security.
"Sienna Castillo." Michelle slid a photograph across the table. "Founder, former corporate lawyer, public face of the organization. Highly intelligent, charismatic, and suspicious of outsiders."
Jenna studied the elegant woman with calculating eyes. "She's the primary target?"
"She's the head of the operation. Her second-in-command is Kendall Buchanan—former military, handles security. She'll be watching us most closely."
More photographs followed: the organization's inner circle, the warehouse where shipments allegedly arrived, and the Victorian mansion serving as PWC headquarters.
"The membership has tiers," Michelle continued. "We'll enter at the base level, attending workshops open to the public. Our goal is to move up quickly into the leadership development program, where the real business happens."
When Michelle finished the briefing, she fixed Jenna with an evaluative look. "Questions?"
"How many legitimate members are unaware of the criminal activities?"
Michelle's expression shifted—approval, perhaps, at the consideration of innocent bystanders. "We estimate about seventy percent of the general membership has no knowledge. Even some of the staff may be unaware."
Jenna nodded. "That complicates things. We're not just fooling criminals; we're fooling genuine community members who believe in the organization's stated mission."
"Exactly." Michelle stood, circling the table. "Which brings us to our cover story. Time to test your memory."
Without warning, Michelle slipped into character, her posture softening, voice warming. "So, Jenna, tell me how you and Michelle met. You mentioned something about her being your boss?"