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  Details can be found at the end of

  JUST BEYOND REACH.

  Just Beyond Reach

  Mission: Undercover - An Undercover Agent Romantic Suspense - Book 4

  Candace Irvin

  1

  Lorring Memorial Hospital

  San Diego, California

  * * *

  For the first time in five years, she'd saved a life rather than taken it, and it felt good—damned good.

  Unfortunately, her head did not.

  Tess studied the patient chart on the counter in front of her, stifling a groan as she pressed her fingers to her temple. She had one heck of a migraine blossoming beneath, this one a direct result of her latest sleepless night and diet of near-continuous adrenaline. She couldn't remember the last time she'd put in a shift like this.

  Not in nursing anyway.

  When her contact had told her she'd have to work in Lorring's intensive care unit on this case, she'd almost bowed out. What if she'd forgotten too much? What if her critical care skills were too rusty? What if she screwed up and someone died?

  In the end, she'd had to agree. The flu epidemic spreading across San Diego had sealed it. They didn't have anyone else to send in. The agency needed her.

  Both agencies.

  Tess succumbed to a groan as the ache intensified.

  "Need an aspirin, honey?"

  Tess managed a smile as the nurse she'd worked side-by-side with during the past night skirted the counter to join her on the opposite side. "Try fifty."

  "That bad, huh?"

  "It's nothing a trip to the staff lounge and the triptan tablet I've got stashed in my wallet won't cure." Tess scrawled her current, faux signature beneath the shift notation she'd made and closed the patient binder.

  Nicole shot her a sympathetic grin as she snagged the chart and slotted it into its spot on the shelf behind her. "Go for it, honey. I'll cover for you. You deserve the relief after bringing Mrs. Randall back from the brink. If you hadn't been here when she coded, we'd have lost her for sure. But I'm warning you. When you get back, you're going to have to put out."

  Tess blinked. "Put out?"

  Nicole nodded, tucking an errant blond curl behind an ear as she rounded the counter. "Information. Don't think I haven't noticed. We've had our hands down the same windpipe tonight and you've yet to tell me your hunk's name, let alone what he looks like."

  Hunk? For a moment, Tess simply stared.

  The rings, idiot.

  She glanced down at the diamond winking up from her left hand, along with the simple gold band tucked beside it. Somehow, amid the slew of meticulous preparations of the last two days, she'd forgotten to attach a name and an image to the stupid things. She was as bad as her mother, forgetting who her current husband was.

  It was a good thing Joe wasn't here. He'd have a field day with the slip. As well as a not-so-cryptic allusion to Dr. Freud.

  Tess shifted her attention to the steady speculation gleaming in Nicole's hazel eyes, for once blessing the throbbing in her head, or rather the reprieve it provided, as she turned away from the counter. By the time she returned from the lounge, she'd have conjured up enough details to satisfy her fellow nurse's thirst for chatter.

  Unfortunately, the floor supervisor cut her escape off at the pass.

  Nicole let out a groan as the supervisor waved a slim manila folder between them. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is."

  "Can't, but you can relax. Tess gets the honors tonight."

  Nicole frowned. "Come on, Janice. Have a heart. No one should have to make the pharmacy run on their first night."

  Pharmacy?

  Despite the throb in her head, Tess perked up—instantly. "That's okay; I'll take it. The walk might clear my head."

  "Lot of good it would do. You'd just be replacing the pain in your head for one in your butt." Nicole sighed as she retrieved the folder containing what was bound to be their ICU shift's narcotic count sheet. "I'll do it."

  Tess didn't bother hiding her curiosity as she turned to the supervisor. "I don't get it. What's the big deal?"

  "Not what, who." The disgust in Nicole's voice matched the supervisor's expression. "Eddie."

  "Eddie?" As in Eduardo Hernández?

  The hell with perking up. Every nerve in Tess' body had snapped to attention. This was it. The opening she'd prepped two days, then waited all night for.

  Nicole's shudder confirmed it. "Eddie Hernández. He's a pharmacy technician the hospital made the mistake of hiring last June. He's also the reason every female nurse on staff—single or otherwise—goes out of their way to avoid the drug palace, especially when Eddie's planning one of his beach blowouts. Me included. Against my better judgment, I always find myself accepting."

  "That irresistible, are they?"

  The supervisor snorted. "No, but the host thinks he is."

  "Sounds like the man's ego needs lancing." And she had just the needle for the job. Tess snagged the folder from Nicole before either woman could stop her.

  "Wait, you don't have to—"

  "I do. I might be new, but I pull my weight. If it's my turn, it's my turn." She shot Nicole a reassuring smile as she drew away from the counter, though it didn't seem to soothe the woman's concern. "Besides, after that close call with Mrs. Randall, I'm feeling lucky." Tess turned her back on the lingering confusion in Nicole's gaze, forcing herself to squelch the spurt of guilt that followed as she headed down the corridor to the elevators.

  Normally the lies she fed her nursing co-workers didn't bother her.

  At least not this much.

  Maybe it was Nicole. She'd liked the woman's pixie grin from the moment she'd seen it beaming over an outstretched cup of steaming Earl Grey nine hours earlier. Unfortunately, it didn't matter. She hadn't taken this job or any of the other ones her temporary nursing agency had set her up with over the last five years to win friends.

  Not the legitimate kind.

  Joe knocked firmly on the door to the hospital room before nudging it open. "Tomás?"

  "¡Hola, amigo! Come in, please. And before you ask, I am fine."

  Joe chuckled as he pushed the door wide and entered the private room.

  From the glower on his fellow DEA agent's face, as well as the tension in Tomás' hands as his friend raked them through his shoulder-length hair, Joe could only assume Tomás had already offered that same fervent assessment to every other agent with the Drug Enforcement Administration these past two days—as well as his new doctor-fiancée.

  Joe tossed his burden upon the mobile hospital table, next to the tray of untouched eggs and toast.

  Tomás raised his brow at the profusion of yellow petals spilling out from the green tissue. "Roses? I did not know you cared."

  He grinned. "I do not. These are from Teresa. I promised her I would bring them."

  "She is busy then?"

  As usual, with no one about to offend, they had slipped into their native tongue. Joe nodded as he dragged the spare chair closer to the head of the bed. Lowering himself into the blue vinyl, he kicked his boots out in front of him as Tomás reached for the steaming mug on his breakfast tray. "She is across town. Teresa began a new undercover assignment this weekend. Lorring Memorial Hospital."

  Those dark brows rose again as his friend offered the mug he'd retrieved. "The syringes?"

  Joe nodded his thanks as he accepted the mug, then took a sip. Though the coffee was not strong and lacked the touch of chocolate he preferred, it was at least hot.

  Tomás frowned. "I thought the locals had taken the case?"

  "They had. Nor were they
pleased to lose it. But there has been a new development." Joe sipped the brew again, then angled the ankle of his right boot atop his left knee to form a temporary shelf for the mug. He pushed the length of his own hair past his shoulders before attempting to rub the effects of these past two sleepless nights from his brow. The massage succeeded no more than the coffee had.

  He took another sip anyway. "You know Agent Daniels?"

  "Gray Daniels? FBI?"

  "The same. The case concerns his niece. It seems the girl was offered one of the syringes just this week—the needle intact."

  Tomás offered a low whistle. "She is but ten, eleven, yes?"

  Joe nodded. "Eleven. Once more, the offer was made less than two blocks from her school and mere yards from her home. She did not actually see the syringes, but the MO was the same. The boy claimed the needles were sterile and HIV-free. But this time, he offered pills, too."

  "Then we have a suspect?"

  "No. The girl did not recognize him, nor does the boy appear to be from her school. He is older. By how much, we do not know. We do have a sketch now, but it is not good. The girl was rattled, scared."

  "Then why has Tessa already gone in?"

  Why indeed?

  Joe studied the black-on-black stitching along the leather throat of his boot, tracing the subdued scrolls up to the hem of his matching jeans as he shrugged.

  "Joaquín?"

  He frowned. "Because she is stubborn."

  Tomás' hearty laugh filled the hospital room. "Stubborn? Tessa? You are discovering this only now?"

  Joe scowled into the mug as the laughter died out.

  Tomás sighed. "She will be fine. You know this as well as I. Special Agent Rowan can take care of herself."

  Joe kept his gaze on the mug. This, he knew. Teresa was good. The best.

  But something about this case had not sat right with him from the start. And there was their suspect's personal history. Not to mention the accusations he himself had dredged up regarding the technician. Accusations Teresa refused to take seriously.

  At least not seriously enough to suit him.

  For that reason alone, he wanted her nowhere near this case, much less one Eduardo Hernández.

  "Joaquín…is something wrong?"

  He glanced up, his smile of denial already firmly in place. Unfortunately, the man sitting up in the bed across from him wearing that ridiculous hospital gown knew him far too well to be taken in by a simple smile. Especially his.

  Perhaps it was the near-twin appearance they shared.

  The dark eyes that studied him were very much like his own. As was the length of thick black hair that fell well below his friend's shoulders. The square jaw, prominent cheeks, over-full lashes and straight brows—he was familiar with all these features too, and for good reason. But while his resemblance to this man was uncanny, it was also welcomed. For he had been able to use this very similarity to his advantage whilst undercover these past four years. As had Tomás.

  In doing so, they had come to know each other well.

  Perhaps too well.

  Those dark eyes continued to watch him closely. "You wish to discuss it?"

  He did not.

  Tomás Vásquez would not understand, much as he might wish to. How could any man who radiated such contentment ever hope to understand? Even through Tomás' very real concern, Joe could see the newfound serenity that flowed steadily beneath. Indeed, he could feel it. What he would give to know it.

  But he would not. He could not. Ever.

  It was not worth the risk.

  Not to himself, but to her.

  True to his nature, Tomás waited out the silence that had settled between them as patiently as he had waited to claim the woman he would soon marry.

  Joe finally sighed, passing the empty mug to its rightful owner as he stood. "I should be off. I must be at the agency within the hour—and you, my friend, have a vacation to begin if I am not mistaken."

  Tomás held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded. "I do." He leaned forward to set the mug on the breakfast tray, a wide smile spreading across his face as he straightened. "Karin will be here soon to sign my release. Then we pack and leave for Querétaro, then to visit the Mayan temples. I will see you in one week, yes?"

  Joe grinned as he extended his hand. "Agreed. You take care of that lady doctor of yours and enjoy yourselves. You both have earned this."

  Tomás clasped his hand. "With all that has happened these past two days, I have not had the chance to properly—"

  "There is no need."

  "There is." His friend's grip tightened, turned almost painful. "Joaquín, I thank you—for everything. For my life and for my heart."

  As Joe accepted Tomás' quiet sincerity, his own heart tightened as well. It was enough to have lived through the past week with Tomás and the woman Tomás loved—he did not need to relive the experience now. Nor did he wish it. For the memory brought with it a pain of its own.

  He nodded quickly, eager to ease it. And, worse, to run. "It was nothing. You would have done the same, Tomás."

  His friend nodded firmly, that dark gaze now as fierce as his grip. "It was everything. But you are right; I would have done the same for you. Should you ever have need, I will. Until then, you do me this favor, yes? You think on what you truly desire from this life. I believe it can be yours—if you but reach for it."

  For a moment, Joe would have sworn those steady eyes could see into his soul. But, of course, that was impossible. He had hidden it well.

  For even Teresa failed to see it, did she not?

  And she had worked alongside him these six years past.

  He nodded anyway, pulling his hand away as quickly as he dared before he turned to round the foot of the bed and head for the door. He was tempted to look back as he opened it, but he did not. What would it serve?

  Tomás was wrong. As much as he wished it, Joe would never know his own heart's desire.

  Especially with her.

  Tess popped the tiny triptan tablet into her mouth and followed it with a quick sip from the water fountain. She closed her eyes as she straightened, already anticipating the relief. Twenty minutes, and the throb in her temple would be gone.

  Ten, if she was lucky.

  Either way, it was time to dance with the devil.

  She reached the hospital's main elevator bank and pressed the down arrow. Shifting the manila folder to her left hand, she adjusted the stethoscope looped about her neck with her right, then double-checked her watch.

  Not quite 0800.

  Perfect.

  At this hour on a Sunday morning, the hospital's randy pharmacy tech was bound to be alone—and bored. The pair of stainless-steel doors to her right slid open. Tess entered the empty lift, once again ignoring her fellow agent's heated warnings as she punched the button to the first floor. Joe worried too much. Normally she found the man's congenital machismo amusing, but this time, he'd gone too far. Joe just didn't get it. Not only did she welcome Eddie's weakness, she planned on using it.

  Why not?

  It wasn't her fault that the technician was corrupt enough to steal oxycodone right out of Lorring Memorial's pharmacy. Nor was it her fault that the tech—via his stooge—had tried to hawk the oxycodone mere yards from an FBI agent's home. To that agent's eleven-year-old niece, no less.

  But was that oxy connected to the other pills—and worse—that had begun showing up in and around San Diego's middle schools?

  Joe was right about that. They still had no idea, much less hard proof of the latter.

  Unfortunately, it didn't matter. Once an FBI agent's preteen niece had become involved, what had initially been a case for the San Diego police had made it onto the regional DEA field office's top ten list. And promptly rocketed to the number one slot on her own list. Eddie Hernández was going down.

  If she had to use the pharmacy tech's reputed penchant for preying on miserably married nurses to ruin his day—and his life—so be it.

&n
bsp; The elevator lurched to a halt. Tess adjusted her fake wedding rings as the doors opened, making sure the diamond was up front and centered as she entered the deserted, antiseptic corridor. While some men might be deterred by the sight of another's permanent romantic claim, her meticulous research wagered that Eddie would not be one of them. In fact, he'd see the rings as a challenge.

  Tess released the oversized clip from her hair and tucked it into one of the pockets on her bright blue nursing smock as she turned toward the pharmacy. Hauling half the mass over her shoulders, she used her free hand to arrange the russet waves down her front, deliberately enhancing the view of her top-heavy curves.

  Hopefully, the primping would pay off—along with the blond highlights and soft blue contacts she'd added the day before.

  The changes were subtle enough that they shouldn't pique the curiosity of anyone she might run into from her last undercover gig at a civilian hospital across town. At the same time, the enhancements should be distinctive enough to appeal to Eddie's reputed fetishes. Especially the rings.

  Tess reached the pharmacy. When she didn't spot Eddie or anyone else behind the segmented patient counter, she kept going, rounding the far end to stop at the staff door instead. If she was lucky, the duty pharmacist would be on his break—or dealing with a lengthy situation elsewhere in the hospital. Hoping for the latter, Tess positioned herself squarely in view of the reinforced glass window occupying the upper half of the steel door and stabbed the buzzer beside the mechanical cipher lock.

  Moments later, her mark came into view. Alone.

  She smiled.

  Eddie smiled back—and practically yanked the door open.

  So far, so good.

  The man shoved his hands through the cropped waves on his head as his smile swelled into a full-blown grin. "Well, well. Good morning to me."

  Yep, a sleaze.

  Excellent.

  Tess allowed her own smile to widen, knowing full well the guy salivating two feet away would misconstrue it. "Hello, I'm new." She held up the narcotic count sheet she'd snatched out of her fellow nurse's hand roughly ten minutes earlier. "My supervisor asked me to drop this off. It's the results of the spot checks."