Chapter 8
JENNA
R ain tapped against the windows of the safe house, a gentle percussion accompanying the soft gurgle of the coffee maker in the kitchen.
Jenna sat at the dining table, surrounded by case files she'd arranged in careful stacks.
Her laptop displayed the PWC membership database, with member profiles open in multiple tabs.
The apartment had taken on a melancholy atmosphere that matched the weather outside.
Nine days into their operation, the space had accumulated the intimate details of shared living, yet the warmth these details should have created had evaporated overnight, replaced by a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn rain.
Michelle emerged from her bedroom, already dressed in slim black pants and a gray blouse, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her professional armor fully in place.
"Morning," Michelle said, her tone neutral as she moved to the coffee maker. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep. Wanted to review the membership profiles before tonight's event."
Her phone vibrated with an incoming text, breaking the uncomfortable silence. The message was from their handler, Detective Morgan Rivers, using their established code about a fictional client consultation.
"Morgan has information," Jenna announced, decoding the message. "Surveillance picked up unusual activity at the PWC warehouse last night. Multiple vehicles, late hours."
Michelle moved immediately to the table. "Pre-shipment preparation, most likely. They're moving up the timeline."
"Which means tonight's gathering at Sienna's is more critical than we thought." Jenna pulled up the invitation on her phone. "Her hillside home, cocktails and conversation with the PWC inner circle. The perfect opportunity to gather more intelligence before the shipment."
Jenna studied Michelle across the table. "Mina Salgato will be there tonight," she said, referring to the PWC's logistics coordinator. "She manages the shipments according to our intelligence. If I can get close to her?—"
"Too risky," Michelle interrupted, her tone sharpening. "Mina reports directly to Kendall. Getting too close puts you under additional scrutiny."
"It's exactly the kind of risk this operation requires," Jenna insisted, frustration coloring her words. "We have a limited amount of time remaining and a shipment arriving even sooner than planned. We need inside information on their security protocols."
"And if Mina gets suspicious? If she reports back to Kendall, who's already watching you?"
"Then I handle it," Jenna replied, meeting Michelle's gaze directly. "This isn't my first undercover operation, Michelle. I know how to navigate these situations."
Tension crackled between them, professional disagreement layered over unresolved personal complications. Michelle looked away first, moving to retrieve her laptop.
"Let's focus on equipment preparation," she said finally. "We'll need both audio and visual surveillance."
Jenna pulled out the specialized recording devices, laying them on the table.
"The pendant has the best audio range, but the earrings give us direct communication if needed," she said. "We should both wear emergency beacons."
They continued planning in tense synchronicity, bodies maintaining careful distance while minds worked in unconscious harmony.
Despite their personal complications, they still functioned effectively as a team—anticipating each other's thoughts, building on ideas, filling gaps in strategy without explicit discussion.
"We should arrive separately tonight," Michelle suggested.
Jenna shook her head. "That undermines our cover. Couples arrive together, especially at social functions."
Michelle considered this, then nodded reluctantly. "You're right. But once inside, we should circulate independently. Cover more ground."
"Agreed. But we maintain awareness of each other's positions at all times." Jenna's tone softened despite herself. "I watch your back, you watch mine."
Something flickered in Michelle's eyes at that. "Always," she said quietly.
As afternoon approached, Jenna closed her laptop with a decisive click. "I need to prepare for the interviews tomorrow as well. Three leadership-track members, including Nicole, who we now know had direct contact with Beatrice before her death."
Michelle's head snapped up. "You're still planning to conduct those interviews?"
"Of course," Jenna replied, surprised by the question. "It's our best access to inner circle members."
"The Vancouver operation—" Michelle began, then stopped herself. She exhaled slowly. "Just...proceed with extreme caution. Nicole's connection to Beatrice changes the risk assessment."
Jenna studied Michelle, reading the concern beneath her controlled expression. "You're worried about me."
"I'm worried about the operation," Michelle corrected, but the response lacked conviction.
"The operation," Jenna repeated, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from her voice. "Always the operation."
As she moved toward her bedroom, she paused beside Michelle. "For what it's worth," she said softly, "I'm worried about you too. Not just the captain. Not just the operation. You."
She didn't wait for a response, continuing to her room with measured steps. Behind her, she felt the weight of Michelle's gaze like a physical touch, full of unspoken complications neither was ready to fully address.
Sienna Castillo's hillside home outshone even PWC headquarters in opulence. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered commanding views of Phoenix Ridge. Original artwork—all by female artists—adorned walls clearly designed to impress and intimidate.
Jenna accepted a flute of champagne, using the moment to scan the gathering. The PWC inner circle was present in full force: Sienna in the spotlight near the fireplace, Alina discussing something intensely with board members, Nicole chatting with donors by the grand piano.
Most importantly, Mina Salgato stood alone at the windows, her slender figure silhouetted against the panoramic view.
Mid-thirties, Brazilian heritage according to her file, with a Masters in supply chain management that made her the perfect logistics coordinator for both legitimate PWC operations and their smuggling activities.
Jenna caught Michelle's eye across the room with a subtle nod before moving toward her target.
"The view's breathtaking, isn't it?" Jenna said, joining Mina at the window.
Mina turned, eyebrows rising slightly as she took in Jenna's sleek black cocktail dress. "Nothing about this view becomes ordinary," she replied, her slight accent caressing the words. "I'm Mina Salgato."
"Jenna Wolfe." She extended her hand. "New member, though I suspect you already know that."
Mina’s handshake lingered a moment longer than necessary. "Your transition from corporate America has created quite the buzz."
"All good, I hope?" Jenna asked, allowing warmth to enter her smile.
"Impressive, certainly. Not everyone walks away from corporate security to build something meaningful."
Jenna felt Michelle's gaze but kept her focus on Mina. "Security without purpose becomes a gilded cage. Michelle recognized that before I did."
"And yet you're the one mingling while your partner keeps to herself." Mina nodded toward Michelle, who was engaged in conversation with Sienna. "Different social strategies?"
Jenna leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice. "Between us, she's still adjusting to social circles where women actually support each other rather than competing. Corporate trauma runs deep."
The calculated intimacy worked; Mina shifted closer. "I understand completely. Before PWC, I managed international shipping for a corporation where my male colleagues took credit for my logistical innovations regularly."
"Is that why you oversee PWC's international programs now? Taking back your power?"
Pride flashed across Mina's face. "Exactly. I've built a distribution network that operates with remarkable efficiency despite limited resources."
"The logistics must be incredibly complex, especially with customs regulations."
"The key is reliable partners and precise timing," Mina explained. "For instance, our next shipment arrives Saturday at midnight—perfect timing because weekend customs staffing is minimal."
Jenna nodded encouragingly, careful not to appear too interested in this critical information. "Smart scheduling. Do you handle the warehouse operations, too, or just transportation?"
"Both. We maintain a secure facility near the port with restricted access protocols. Only four key cards exist for the high-security areas." She smiled, tapping her clutch purse. "Mine being one of them."
"That level of security speaks to how valuable PWC's work is," Jenna observed, steering the conversation away from operational details.
Mina took a step closer, her expensive perfume with notes of sandalwood enveloping Jenna's senses. "Perhaps I could show you sometime. The warehouse operations themselves are quite elegant in design."
"I'd like that." Jenna maintained the delicate balance between interested and eager. From her peripheral vision, she noted Kendall watching with narrowed eyes. "Though I imagine access is tightly controlled."
"Exceptions can be made…for the right people."
The deliberate flirtation in her tone was unmistakable. Jenna allowed herself to blush slightly. "I'm flattered you might consider me among them."
"Your background suggests you understand discretion," Mina commented, her gaze more assessing. "Your technical expertise would be valuable to our operations. You did oversee IT security at GreenTech, correct?"
The question held a trap. Kendall had clearly been sharing her suspicions with Mina.
"Actually, I managed executive communications," Jenna corrected smoothly. "Though at Michelle's level, that involved coordinating with IT security regularly. You develop a certain understanding of systems when you're the bridge between departments."