Page 9 of Undercover Hearts

Michelle seemed to relax fractionally. "Reasonable. A phrase or gesture that wouldn't appear unusual to observers."

"Maybe 'Remember that client meeting tomorrow?'" Jenna suggested. "Natural in conversation but clear between us."

"Good." Michelle made another note. "We need to develop specific memories: first date location, anniversary celebrations, inside jokes."

Before they could continue, a knock interrupted them. At Michelle's acknowledgment, a woman with coppery braids and sharp, observant eyes entered.

"Captain, the surveillance equipment is ready for review," she said, then noticed Jenna. "You must be Walsh. Morgan Rivers, tech specialist." She extended her hand, grip firm. "I'll be handling your communications and surveillance support."

Michelle gestured for Morgan to join them. "Morgan has designed our secure communications protocol. She's the only other officer with direct contact during the operation."

Morgan laid out several innocuous-looking items: an elegant pendant necklace, a watch, a compact mirror. "Each contains a miniature camera or recording device. The pendant has a panic button—press three times rapidly for emergency extraction."

Jenna picked up the watch, admiring the craftsmanship that concealed its true purpose. Morgan demonstrated the activation sequence, her movements precise and practiced.

"The communications protocol is tight," Morgan continued. "Dead drop updates at predetermined locations, coded messages through apparently normal text exchanges about business consultations."

As Morgan explained the intricate system, Jenna found herself increasingly impressed by the operation's meticulous design. Michelle had clearly been planning this for months, considering every contingency, creating layers of protection and information channels.

The level of detail was remarkable—the way Michelle anticipated problems before they arose and her ability to construct complex systems that remained functional under pressure. Jenna found this competence unexpectedly appealing,drawing her attention to Michelle's hands as she demonstrated the secure messaging system—strong, capable hands with short, practical nails and a single silver band on her right index finger.

Jenna pulled her focus back to Morgan's explanation of emergency protocols, pushing aside the intrusive thought of how those hands might feel against her skin.

When Morgan left, Michelle turned to practical matters. "Tonight, memorize these background materials on GreenTech Industries and Meridian Heights. Corporate structure, key executives, neighborhood details—anything a long-term resident would know."

Jenna accepted the flash drive, their fingers brushing briefly. "I'll have it memorized by morning."

"We move into the safe house tomorrow." Michelle's voice remained professional, but something in her expression had shifted—a hint of vulnerability quickly masked. "Once we're there, we're in character whenever we might be observed. The operation security depends on consistent cover maintenance."

What would she be like away from the structured environment of the department? The question lingered as Jenna gathered her notes. The glimpses of the woman beneath the captain's exterior had been rare but intriguing—a flash of humor in the training facility, moments of unguarded intensity when discussing the case.

"I'll be ready," Jenna promised.

Michelle nodded, already turning to her computer. "0900 tomorrow, then. The address is in your briefing materials."

As Jenna left the office, she couldn't help but wonder which would prove more challenging: infiltrating a criminal organization or navigating the complex dynamics developing between her and the woman she was about to pretend to love.

The Ridge View Apartments complex sat in a quiet neighborhood fifteen minutes from downtown Phoenix Ridge. Modern enough to attract young professionals, established enough to avoid scrutiny. The perfect blend of visibility and anonymity for their operation.

Jenna arrived first, watching the afternoon sun glint off the building. Her two suitcases contained the carefully curated wardrobe of Jenna Wolfe, business consultant and devoted partner. Nothing remained of Detective Walsh except her tactical instincts and observational habits.

Michelle arrived moments later, pulling into the adjacent parking space. They exchanged a nod, professional acknowledgment shifting into something more personal as they walked toward the building together. Practice for watching eyes.

"Ready?" Michelle asked quietly as they approached the lobby.

"Ready," Jenna confirmed, adjusting her grip on her suitcase and subtly moving closer to Michelle's side. Their first public performance had begun.

The apartment was on the seventh floor—corner unit with dual exposures and optimal sight lines to surrounding buildings. Michelle unlocked the door with a key already on her ring, gesturing for Jenna to enter first.

Inside, Jenna was struck by the contradiction: the space was simultaneously designed for comfort and utility. Contemporary furniture with clean lines occupied the open-concept living area. A cozy sectional faced a wall-mounted television. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered sweeping views of Phoenix Ridge'scoastline, framed by charcoal-gray curtains. The kitchen gleamed with stainless steel appliances and quartz countertops.

Yet for all its aesthetic appeal, the apartment felt untouched. No personal photographs adorned the walls, no books filled the shelves, no mismatched mugs sat in the cabinet. It was a stage set waiting for actors to bring it to life.

"Home sweet home," Michelle murmured, setting down her bag and securing the door with three separate locks.

Jenna moved through the space, cataloging details. "Nice place. Whose taste is it supposed to be—yours or mine?"

"Both, theoretically. The department's staging team created a neutral backdrop. We add the personal touches." Michelle gestured toward two boxes near the couch. "Photos of us already doctored by the technical team. Books and personal items that match our cover profiles."