Secret Identity (What's Her Secret?) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Totally Bound Publication

  Secret Identity

  ISBN # 9781781848654

  ©Copyright Stacey Lynn Rhodes 2013

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright November 2013

  Edited by Eleanor Boyall

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2013 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 2.

  What’s Her Secret?

  SECRET IDENTITY

  Stacey Lynn Rhodes

  Sienna knows anything can happen when working undercover, but falling for a suspect while in her secret identity has got to be the worst mistake she’s ever made.

  It’s the easiest undercover job Sienna Reynolds has ever got into character for. Used to boring, buttoned-up corporate roles, she can bring her real self out to play and instead of hiding her tats and piercings, they are fully out on display. That, of course, makes her instantly recognizable to her sexy dance partner from the club last week when he walks in the door. But Sienna’s very good at what she does…and it’s no coincidence that she runs into him now.

  The attraction between them is still off the charts, but Sienna has a job to do and part of that is treating as a suspect everyone associated with the business she’s infiltrating. One fact she knows for sure—Greg Mazzeo is keeping a secret too, and she needs to find out what it is as soon as possible.

  Dedication

  For Inger. After all the time we’ve spent together having coffee,

  there’s no one else I could have dedicated this one to!

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Candy Crush: King.com Ltd

  Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation

  Chapter One

  Sienna steered her car into a parking space a few blocks from her destination. Transit wasn’t really an option this time of day but luckily she had her choice of on-street parking due to the hour. It was a dark part of the city, and at this forgotten time of the morning not another car or person was to be seen. Not the greatest neighborhood for her to be walking around in, but whatever.

  She flipped down the visor to take a quick look, and when the light popped on, she had a jolt of surprise to see her real self staring back at her. It was definitely the easiest undercover role Sienna had ever gotten into character for. The sad truth was, as one of the few female detectives in her precinct and with a talent for successfully immersing herself in whatever persona was needed, she got assigned mostly to white-collar crime cases. Her usual role was to cozy up to big business types as their new assistant or other office worker. Sienna had also done her time in Vice doing prostitution sting ops.

  This time she was going to take over a coffee shop as a barista-slash-business manager for the owner, her dear ‘Uncle Harlan’, who had suddenly needed to leave town due to a family illness. In reality, Harlan Coffman had been arrested the day before—a cog in the bigger wheel of a huge potential drug bust—and if he continued to cooperate, would likely be disappearing into protective custody until after arrests and trials of the main players.

  Harlan’s arrest had come about after a simple visit for questioning by Sienna and her partner at his home the day before. Too many small arrests had been linked back to Harlan or his shop in various ways, so they’d decided to see if they could rattle him by a surprise visit at his home. He’d already appeared frightened and stressed when they’d arrived, and when they’d identified themselves, he’d broken down. They’d immediately taken him downtown to continue the interview at the station, and he’d been more than forthcoming…except in linking his small-potatoes distribution end of the operation with the manufacturer and ringleader.

  Since then, they’d gotten a warrant to search his residence and phone records. Nothing had yet borne fruit in positively identifying who he was working for. But they’d come to the conclusion that, with all the time Harlan spent at the coffee shop, there had to be some contact there—some connection. They needed a person on the inside to find out what was happening in order to wrap this case up and guarantee a conviction and an end to the growing problem.

  So the tats and piercings Sienna usually had to hide or downplay were suddenly an acceptable part of—and even an asset to—her character’s appearance. She could style her hair any way she wanted and wear her own wardrobe. And after her experience working as a barista in college, that didn’t need a crash course to learn. In short, she was made for this particular role, and she was looking forward to it.

  Sienna grabbed her messenger bag-cum-purse then got out of the car and took a quick look around. A couple of homeless people leaned in recessed doorways, probably asleep. The sight made her sad but not nervous. She could handle herself and they were just trying to get a night’s sleep under cover from the intermittent showers. She locked up behind her and began to walk purposefully toward Primo Café through the light fog, hoping to time her arrival with that of the employee she’d be working with.

  Harlan’s note to his main employee and assistant manager, Jay Ayers, gave the story that his mother had taken a turn for the worse and he’d need to be on the East Coast for an undetermined amount of time. In the meantime, his niece Sienna, who was between jobs, had agreed to come take over the business and help Jay out. Harlan closed by saying he could be best reached by email as he’d usually have his phone off as per hospital rules. Of course, both the inbox and his phone were being monitored by the department.

  She knew the area around the café inside and out, having done surveillance and research in the weeks leading up to Coffman’s arrest. She’d even taken it upon herself to go into the shop for coffee a few times to assess the layout and meet the assistant. So even though she’d been thrown into this undercover job last minute with minimal planning and even less intel, she felt confident that she could hold her own, both in keeping her cover and gaining the trust of the people associated with the café. If her boss ever got her the damn associated case files that would help immensely. But it wasn’t anything new to have a hard time getting permissions or information from her boss. Sienna had learned to wing it.r />
  Better to apologize than to beg.

  She checked her phone as she strode down the last block toward the café. Almost four a.m.. Right on time to be there for the start of Jay’s shift.

  Thank God she was a morning person.

  From the information they’d gotten from Harlan, the alley door was alarmed so the staff always came and went through the front door. After a few minutes of trial and error, Sienna had the security gate unlocked and rolled back and the front door open.

  She had just stepped inside and was hunting for the lights—it was a rather dark section of the block—when a wary voice came from behind her.

  “Can I help you?”

  Sienna turned. “You must be Jay Ayers.” She offered her hand, which he slowly took to shake. “I’m Sienna Coffman.”

  “Coffman?” Dueling expressions of dawning comprehension and worry crossed his face.

  “I’m Harlan’s niece. I thought he told you I was coming?”

  Jay frowned and stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind them. “No, sorry.”

  “Oh.” She feigned puzzlement, but of course, he hadn’t been inside yet to get the planted note. “Well, I’m sure he meant to. He had to leave town suddenly. His mom’s not doing well. I offered to come help out here until he gets back.” She made sure to have steady eye contact to counteract the load of bullshit she was feeding him. “He gave me his keys and said to be here at four. Said you know everything there is to know.”

  Which was why he was one of the primary people Sienna would be watching.

  Jay still looked a bit suspicious, and that in turn pricked Sienna’s instincts. She would bide her time, though, and she made her expression as open and guileless as possible. Sienna knew she looked at least a decade younger than her thirty-six years, especially in her current wardrobe of layered tanks that exposed her shoulder and back tattoos, baggy khaki cargo shorts and black boots. She’d gleefully maxed out on visible piercings, sporting six earrings and a cuff on each ear, a silver lip ring, a matching ring in her eyebrow and her birthstone amethyst nose stud.

  Her styling was total counterculture, Portland hipster barista. So…basically, herself.

  Jay had made his way to the elusive switch and turned on recessed lights around the edge of the room. He gave her a quick once-over now that it was easier to see, his eyes lingering on the side of her neck for a moment before his lips quirked in a half-smile. “Come on back then.” He led the way down the hall toward the back, polite enough to not mention the monster hickey she was sporting, courtesy of the hot dance floor make-out session with buff and blond Greg during her trip to the dance club two nights prior.

  Sienna had caught relentless ribbing from her partner Tyson and the other support personnel yesterday. Even though she was single and no saint, she usually had more self-respect than to allow that kind of teenaged branding. But when Greg had come up behind her and wrapped her in his embrace then run his lips down along her neck, she hadn’t been able to help cocking her head to the side, giving him tacit approval to do what he wanted. And obviously what he’d wanted was to mark her well into next week while he’d worked magic with his hands under cover of her clothing.

  Actually, she’d be lucky if his bite marks and hickies faded by then. Especially the big one he’d sucked up while she’d come against his hand…

  Sienna flushed at the memory of falling apart right there in his arms on the dance floor. Clearing her throat, she pulled her focus back to the situation at hand, annoyed with herself at having let her concentration on the job slip. Normally, she didn’t let anything throw her off, but Greg kept seeping into her thoughts.

  “Huh.”

  Jay had picked up the note and was reading it. She waited for him to share the news with her.

  “Letter from your uncle. He basically said what you did. You go by Cici?”

  Those fuckers. “Yeah. Family nickname I kind of hate. Sienna is fine.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like Cici.” Jay was relaxed enough around her now to wink at her, catching her a bit off-guard. Everything that they had on him pointed to him being gay, but maybe he was just friendly. Or bi.

  Or had horrible taste in nicknames.

  She followed his lead and shot him an evil glare. “Use it and die.”

  “Die laughing,” he shot back quickly. He tossed her an apron. “Here you go. We’d better get started on the scones or we’ll never be ready on time. You can hang your bag up here if you want.” He indicated a row of hooks on the wall behind the office door. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a hook then put on the apron he’d taken down from there. She walked over to follow his suggestion then put on her own apron.

  She finally processed what he’d said about the scones. “You guys bake here?” She sucked at cooking.

  He led the way into the small galley. “Technically yes, though we get the dough pre-made. Today’s batches are in the fridge—I put them in to defrost last night.” He waved his hand at the appliance. “We get a few other baked goods already done. That delivery will come in about half an hour. Bagels, strudels, muffins—that sort of thing. But the scones are our big seller.” He started washing his hands and she stepped up next to him at the sink to follow suit.

  “What time do you open up then?” She already knew but played the part of trainee asking obvious questions.

  He shot her a glance. “Five, which is why we need to hustle.”

  “Gotcha, boss.” She knew she was going to need to be on top of her game around him. He seemed to have a keen sixth sense about people. What she didn’t know was if that made him more likely to be involved with the criminal activity in and out of the building. It could also be that he wasn’t in it but might have information that could help their investigation.

  The best way she’d found to learn a person’s true nature was to work alongside them. Some people were chatters, but you could get a good read even on the ones who weren’t if you spent enough time with them.

  Sienna tied on her apron and trailed Jay over to the workspace.

  Mr Jay Ayers had himself a new shadow.

  Chapter Two

  By the time the morning rush slowed down, it was after nine. Sienna took the opportunity to bend over and touch her toes, wincing at the tightness in her back and hamstrings. Damn, there was something exhausting about being on your feet all day. Even with only having moved only about ten feet in each direction, she felt like she’d run a marathon.

  Jay must’ve spotted her impromptu stretching session, because he laughed sympathetically. “Yeah, you’ll get used to it after a while. Maybe want to go for comfort over fashion tomorrow and wear sneakers instead of boots.”

  Sienna straightened up then stretched toward the ceiling. “They’re actually work boots, but maybe I’ll switch it up anyway.”

  Jay continued in perpetual motion, taking the time between customers to wipe down the work area. He had a routine that worked, and he went at it hard. He hadn’t taken a break yet.

  Sienna had come to the conclusion that Jay wasn’t just putting on a show for the boss’ niece—he was always like this. In her experience, someone could fake it for a little while, but after a while they’d start to slip back into their usual habits. She was beginning to understand why all Harlan could say when they’d questioned him about Jay was that he was a ‘good guy’ and a ‘damn hard worker’.

  In fact, she mused, if Jay was this focused on work every day, Harlan probably didn’t do a damn thing outside of some paperwork. She’d tackle the office later on, after closing, when Jay wasn’t around. But if Harlan was here in the office all the time, what the hell had he been doing back there? Playing Candy Crush? Watching porn? He sure hadn’t been behind the counter any of the times she or any of their other team members had come in.

  Sienna inhaled deeply. God, she loved the smell of coffee. The cozy café was just the sort of place she liked. Mismatched cushy seats for loungers, small tables with wooden chairs for p
eople who wanted a work space, and free wi-fi. The interior walls were a montage of local art that Jay had said they put up from whoever asked for space, while the outside wall was of exposed brick.

  “You need a break, Cici?” Jay asked with a smirk as he wiped down the steaming wand then checked the big brewer that he was using to make a fresh batch for one of the many self-serve vacuum pump carafes they had sitting out along the wall. If customers only wanted a brewed coffee and not an espresso drink, they could throw the correct change in a box and help themselves on the honor system. He continued, glancing at the clock on the microwave they used to warm pastries, “If you do, now’s the time to take it since I’m expecting a delivery soon and I need to have you to cover the counter while I help the driver put stuff away in the back.”

  Sienna perked up at the mention of the next stage of her investigation. Changing her initial denial of needing a break at the last second, she said, “Sure. I’ll be back in a bit—and I’ll make sure the bathroom is still clean while I’m at it.”

  Her brain began running through the upcoming scene as she hung up her apron and headed out front. The delivery driver was one of the persons of interest to the case, simply because of the regularity of the deliveries, the likelihood that drugs or supplies could be smuggled into the building inside the boxes, and the fact that the driver had inexplicably changed less than two months ago. The previous driver was still working most of the route, just not this delivery and a few others—it seemed odd that the new one was doing such a small route, but they hadn’t been able to find out any useful information or reasoning behind it from the food service company or the delivery dispatch office.

  Somebody wasn’t talking, so someone had something to hide.