Melody's Six

“Of course, we can.” As Mel committed to memory the names and faces of the rest of Spalding’s party, she sensed Dean’s increasing tension. That was far more unsettling than learning Claudia had sent a case to Beck. As soon as they were out of here, she wanted an explanation. Dean was always so even-keel, his feelings or opinions on a target were irrelevant. She couldn’t see anything new in this assignment overview. They went undercover, just the two of them, all the time. Small, mobile, two-person teams were the central advantage of the Athena Project.

Beck highlighted another section of the overview. “The scouting itinerary is packed tight, starting as soon as they land this afternoon.”

“Garden of the Gods at sunset,” she noted. “That’ll be fun.”

“If he’s scared enough to hire extra security, he should’ve stayed in California,” Dean grumbled.

Grim wasn’t his norm. Oh, the man could be serious, disgruntled on occasion, but something was way off. To her, everything indicated a typical operation. “Maybe there’s concern about a mole or movie studio espionage.” The joke fell flat and Dean’s blue eyes turned down-right stormy.

She thought extra security was a smart idea in this area. Not just because it kept her employed. The mountains around Fool’s Gold were gorgeous. And treacherous, with multiple factors beyond the obvious risks of the rugged terrain and quickly changing weather. Abandoned mines, working mines, wary ranchers, and groups who wanted to stay off the radar for one reason or another made it all too easy for strangers to stumble into trouble.

Sneaking another look at Dean, there was no ignoring the hard set of his shoulders or his rigid stance, legs braced wide. Beck would pick up on those same indicators and Mel was not prepared to have their partnership questioned.

Her tone light, as if she couldn’t see his distress, she returned to the cover story. “Look, we aren’t strangers on this one.” She could successfully pretend not to know him, but it was easier for her when they worked an assignment as a couple.

Dean’s nostrils flared. “Nope. We’re husband and wife.” He tilted his head until his neck cracked. “Drone operators who are married,” he added through clenched teeth. “We join up and travel with the director and his team. Five to seven days expected.”

“With a possible extension,” Beck said.

Dean huffed.

A week hiking and traveling through the area sounded like fun to Mel. Or it would be as soon as her partner dropped the foul attitude. “Well, I’m game. Anything in particular we need to know about the movie business?”

“Not particularly,” Beck replied. “Take your cues on that from Spalding, but remember to keep your eyes on more than the terrain, since no specific threat has been identified.”

“Got it.” Mel bounded her knees, ready to get moving.

“As drone operators we should have a good view of any potential trouble,” Dean said, sounding more like himself. “Should be easy enough to keep the scouting group safe if we can take turns piloting.” He pointed to the screen. “Says everyone will carry cameras.”

“Even better,” Mel said, her normal enthusiasm rising once more. “As locals, I assume we could be called upon to liaison with landowners as needed.”

Dean shrugged. “You and I can schmooze with the best of them.”

“I’ve emailed all of these details to you both as well.” Beck slid a thick envelope closer to Mel. “Your cover IDs, matching credit cards, and some cash.”

Dean’s head bent over his phone. “Mel, look at the schedule,” he snapped.

“Give me a second.” She’d been separating the contents of the envelope for him. “If this is how you behave now that we’re married—” His head whipped up. The look he sent her was so dark, so tortured, she forgot what she’d been saying.

Oh, crap. She’d inadvertently stomped on an exposed nerve. Never her intention. She respected Dean, cared about his welfare in the field and as a friend. He was her partner and she trusted him with her life. She was well aware the man had feelings, even if he didn’t share them often. Or ever.

The questions racing through her head would wait. This wasn’t the time or place to dig herself out of her misstep. “When do we start?” she asked Beck.

“You’ll meet up with the advance party at the Colorado Springs airport this afternoon,” Beck explained. “They’ll be arriving on a private jet. No one knows anything about the two of you beyond the cover resumés the studio passed onto the director.”

“Spalding has no idea?” Dean whistled.

Mel knew exactly what he was thinking, because she was thinking it too. The studio wasn’t one hundred percent confident in the group.

“He believes you’re local experts, hired for this particular job,” Beck confirmed. “The studio is technically our client.”

They’d succeeded in assignments that weren’t clear-cut before. “Got it.” Mel pushed to her feet.

Dean followed suit. “We’ll be back in a week or so,” Dean said, his voice rough as gravel. He stalked toward the stairs and out of the office.

Mel scooped up the cash and cards he’d left behind, stuffing it back in the envelope.

Beck arched an eyebrow. “You two okay?”

For the first time in their partnership, Mel wasn’t so sure. “We’re fine.” Whatever had set him off, she was confident in their mutual professionalism. “I’ll send daily updates.”

“Hang on,” Beck walked to the supply closet and opened a slim drawer under one of the counters. “You probably want silicone wedding bands for this.”

“Good point.” They hadn’t needed wedding bands before, but it was a typical expectation and would underscore the cover story. Proving Athena Project covered all their bases, Beck pulled up a file on her phone with ring sizes. Mel chose matching wedding bands in a dark gray color, tucking both into her pocket.

“I’d rather stick with our personal weapons for this,” Mel said. “In a small, mobile group anything more powerful is likely to get noticed at the wrong time.”

“Agreed.” Beck folded her arms. “If anything changes, we’re close enough to offer backup.”

“Thanks.” She gave Beck a quick hug goodbye and headed out.