Hello all! I am republishing this story now that I've gone through it and edited it all. I also tweaked a few things, mostly just the names of some of the characters, but I recommend rereading after all this time before jumping straight to the last chapter and epilogue.
I have also recently published a similar version of this story to Kindle. The character of Bingly and Ray - now called Rob - have been combined as well as Sherry and Caroline. There is more content, as well as a few plot twists, and the editing is more polished than this version. If you're at all interested, look up Undercover by Different Thoughts on Amazon.
I want to give a special shout out to all the people who've sent notes through this long hiatus to encourage me and make their interest known:
Thank you Eb Evans, AliciaMo, Vaishnavi, Kettle Logic, pnthr, dejaay, and, as always to Kikibb for all the hard work she put into this story.
Chapter one
When he walked into the diner about a half-hour ago, her eyes were immediately drawn to him.
The first thing she noticed was his frame. She guessed from her vantage point that he stood a few inches above six feet with broad shoulders, and although he was hunched over reading a newspaper, she could see that under his leather jacket he was fit. Not in a body-building type of way; if she had to guess, she would say he worked out for his health and not his appearance. That was good because it was her opinion that there wasn't anything else that could be done to make his appearance any more desirable.
His black hair was wavy, just at the border of being called curly, and fell below his ears. She was happy to see it wasn't gelled back as she had seen so many guys do, but actually trimmed in a way where it stayed out of his eyes naturally. It would probably be a disservice to call him unkempt, but she wouldn't be surprised to learn he had slept in those clothes, or, if the five o'clock shadow on his cheek was any indication, hadn't slept at all.
Every time the diner door opened he looked up from his coffee and newspaper and away from her, then right back down again. It was when he was turning that the florescent light hit his face just right and she noticed a scar about an inch long right underneath his right eye. There was also just something about him and his easy, methodical movements that exuded an alpha male demeanor. All and all, his appearance hit her just right and she couldn't help thinking he was probably the hottest guy she had seen in a while, and certainly way out of her league.
She had also been staring way, way too long.
"Liz," a clunk to her left let her know something had been set down on the table.
After a beat, Lizzy tore her gaze away from the hottie at the counter to look up at her best friend. Charlotte was looking down at Lizzy with a knowing look, but so far had remained silent. It was times like these, when Charlotte had that look in her eye, that she resembled her brother so much. Lizzy's oldest friends were fraternal twins, but they also shared strikingly similar features. They both kept their hair short, they both stood several inches above Lizzy's own 5'6, and both had impossibly light brown eyes that shone especially bright against their dark skin. Jeremiah was brawn where Charlotte was most often described as wispy, but that was really their biggest difference.
"Char?" Lizzy raised her eyebrow in question at the ice water. "It's forty degrees outside. I asked for coffee."
"I know," Charlotte smirked; Lizzy leaned back in her chair, waiting for it. "But you seemed a little flushed," she glanced at the guy Lizzy had been staring at for the past half hour. Unlike Lizzy, Charlotte managed to look away after a brief moment. "I wasn't sure whether to throw it on you or have you drink it."
"Don't be dramatic," Lizzy huffed dismissively, but couldn't help glancing back at the guy.
"Been awhile?" Charlotte asked, chuckling low.
"You're my roommate. You know the answer to that," Lizzy replied. "Anyway. It's not a crime to look. You're telling me you don't think the view is worth it?"
Liz looked back up at Charlotte, a challenge in her eye. Charlotte glanced at the man in question once more but returned her gaze to her friend after a brief moment.
"He's hot," Charlotte allowed. "But he's no Shemar Moore."
"Shemar Moore?" Lizzy feigned confusion. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"
"Don't even," Charlotte pointed a finger at her in warning until Lizzy cracked a smile.
Charlotte didn't have much free time between the business side of the diner and the waitressing side, so what little spare time she did have was spent parked in front of the couch on Wednesday nights watching Criminal Minds, featuring the love of her life Shemar Moore.
"You know him or something?" Charlotte questioned, turning the conversation back to the man in question. Lizzy scoffed, daring to look at the Adonis at the counter once more.
"No. Do you?" She questioned hopefully.
"Nope. Never seen him in here before," Charlotte replied. Lizzy had to admit she was disappointed.
"Miss?" A customer called for her attention and Lizzy's friend walked off without comment.
She liked spending her mornings in Charlotte's dingy diner. Although on paper Charlotte didn't own it yet, she had been making payments to the current owner- who was glad to be rid of it- for several years and was very close to being able to call it her own. She envied Charlotte sometimes, for knowing exactly what she wanted in life and going after it. Lizzy was in school earning a degree, but she didn't feel passionate about anything the way Charlotte loved her diner.
Lizzy's eyes were drawn back to the Adonis as he glanced once more at the door, then back at his paper. She sighed, mumbled screw it, grabbed her water, and made her way over to the counter. She set her glass down and took the seat to the left of him, leaving a space between them for her own dignity. This close to him, she could smell his cologne.
He glanced at her as she sat down and their eyes met briefly, so she gave him a smile and a cheerful, "Mornin'."
He looked her up and down, actually looked her up and down, and then let out a breath that could have been a laugh before shaking his head and looking back at his paper.
She couldn't help but laugh at his audacity; "excuse me for breathing."
She turned her head away and took a sip of her water, immediately regretting her decision to come over here. He could have been her ideal man, a perfect what-if story for herself. Unfortunately, she had to ruin everything by actually engaging him in conversation and thus shattering the image.
"Excuse me for not being more open to a woman who has been staring at me the entire time I've been sitting here," he said, his voice low and bored, without even looking at her.
"What? I have not," she scoffed, but the flush that was immediately on her cheek was too telling.
He looked at her once more, barely inclining his head towards her as he did so. He raised his eyebrow, the right one that housed a scar underneath it. She rolled her eyes.
"So you're observant. Congratulations," he smiled, or looked as close to smiling as possible, and then looked down to his paper once more. "But, you know," she added, gazing at her glass of water as she stirred her straw aimlessly, a smug smile already on her face. "I'm pretty observant too, though I do say so myself."
"Oh?" he asked, still not looking at her. The door opened once more and once more he glanced at it and then back at his paper.
"You're waiting for someone," she pointed out. He didn't acknowledge her. "Girlfriend?" Still, he was silent, and remained so when she followed it up with, "boyfriend?"
In the window behind his head, Lizzy noticed a man pull up on a motorcycle across the street. He took his helmet off but stayed on his bike as he dug a cigarette out of his pocket and began patting his jacket, looking for a lighter. Lizzy stood and pulled out a few bills from her pocket, laying it down next to her still full water glass.
"Hmm. Maybe not. It must be the other thing I noticed," she said casually. Charlotte came up and took the cash off the counter with one hand and the glass in the other. She threw Lizzy a look, but she was too preoccupied to see it.
"Which was?" he asked, his tone indicating he was losing the little patience he had shown.
"Well you've never been here before, you're clearly waiting for someone, and, the most notable…" here she paused to reach over and poke him in the side. Her hand met something solid.
"You're hiding a gun," he grabbed her arm, twisting it away from him with a look of surprise on his face. She winced and he immediately let it go. "Nice reflexes… for a cop," she said, not bothering to keep her voice down as she shook her wrist. Two men looked up from a booth in the back, then immediately got up and left through the backdoor.
There was a moment of surprise before he was scowling and turning back to his newspaper. He then bit out, "in my experience, only two kinds of people recognize law enforcement out of their uniform. Other law enforcement, and-"
"Criminals," she finished for him, smiling and tilting her head. "So, which one am I?" He looked her up and down again and picked up his paper, shaking it out and hunching over it once more; letting her surmise his answer.
"So," she walked around him so she was between him and the door. Charlotte was back behind the counter and refilling the officer's coffee cup. Lizzy met her eye, then glanced at a bag on the counter behind her. Charlotte frowned, but turned and got it for her. "You must be staking the place out. Looking for a dangerous criminal."
"I am simply trying to enjoy my coffee, ma'am," he growled at her. That was the only way to describe the tone he used.
"Ma'am?" she couldn't help but scoff, slightly aghast. "I am at least five years younger than you."
She could be wrong, but she got the impression he was trying to hide his amusement when he replied, "I am simply trying to enjoy my coffee, young lady."
"Too bad," she shook her head, taking a moment to mourn the loss of what could have been.
On top of his good looking face appeared to be a quick-witted, sardonic brain. It was too bad he seemed determined to be so standoffish above his company, in her opinion. She shouldered her backpack, tied her hair back in a messy ponytail, and took one last look before backing out the door. "Start the bike up, Rob."
The cop at the counter glanced up; the surprise was written on his face as he looked from Lizzy's grin to the man on the bike across the street. Officer Adonis jumped up, reacting faster than Lizzy thought he would. She had to sprint to the man on the motorcycle and practically jump onto the back of his bike.
"Liz what the hell?" the man cried out in annoyance, a light cigarette was still in his hand.
"Cop, cop, cop!" Lizzy hit his shoulder to hurry him, but at her words, he took off so fast she had to grab onto him so she didn't fall off the back of the bike.
Lizzy looked back at the cop who was now chasing them, calling out Stop! Police! She grinned and then daringly blew him a kiss. He followed them on foot for a few seconds but quickly turned, jogging instead to an unmarked black sedan parked on the side of the road.
"Lose him now or we are busted," Lizzy said Rob's ear. Her heart pounded in her ear as the adrenaline rushed through her body.
"I got it. Don't back seat drive, girl," Rob called back, taking a sharp right turn down an alleyway. Lizzy held on tighter. "Where the hell did he come from?"
"He was waiting for you at Char's," Liz said, feeling proud of herself. "You owe me."
A few more sharp turns and they were pulling up to a house that always made Lizzy grimace.
"Really, Rob?" Lizzy asked, sliding off the bike. "This guy?"
"He's not so bad," Rob grinned at her. "I'm stashing this in the back. You coming?"
"You were supposed to take me to school," she crossed her arms, trying to pout for effect. "I don't think you know what owing someone one means."
"Come on, I told you those cops have been sniffing around for me for some reason; I can't help it that they have terrible timing," Rob shrugged.
He was probably her best friend, after the Lucas twins and her own sister, Jane, but she was never delusional enough to think of his as exactly dependable. Even for a ride to school, she asked him to be an hour early, just in case.
"Forget it," Lizzy sighed. "I'll walk,"
"Don't be like that Liz, maybe George will-" Rob started but she cut him off.
"No way. I don't want to owe him a favor," Liz replied, looking up at the house.
The curtain was pulled back and someone, she couldn't tell exactly who, was watching them. She gave a smile and a wave because she had always found it was better to be friendly and open around paranoid drug dealing drug addicts.
"He's not that bad," Rob gave her a disapproving look. Rob had risen to George's number two man fairly quickly, so she knew why he didn't want his best friend to have a problem with his boss. To keep things easy between them they simply avoided the topic as much as possible.
"Still. I'll catch you later," Lizzy said with a wave, heading up the street.
The walk wasn't so bad, as cold as it was. Her heart sped up anytime she heard a car approaching because she assumed it was the cop still looking for her and Rob, but he never showed. For this added incentive, she made good time and was only ten minutes late to class.
The rest of the day passed pretty typically, considering the excitement of that morning. Lizzy had two classes that day, physics and developmental psychology. College classes had just started, so there wasn't that much to be done yet. She had already read over the chapter they were covering in class —or more accurately skimmed it for the important details, so the lecture portion was just a matter of keeping up and taking notes. Both classes were interesting, in their own way; her Psychology class more so than physics, but that was to be expected.
Afterward, she took the bus to a doctor's office where she was temping for the last day. She was supposed to have stopped work before classes started, but the girl who she had been filling in for decided not to come back and the head RN begged her to stay on for one more week until they found a replacement. She didn't really feel like she could refuse, the office had been so flexible with her schedule, and the money she made was pretty good.
So she spent five hours, from one to six, sorting and alphabetizing patient files, answering phones, and sending faxes, all while mentally memorizing the formulas they had gone over in physics that morning. She had been up late the night before finishing all her homework so she could have tonight free and by the time she was making her way home, all she wanted to do was veg out in front of their crappy TV set on their crappy couch and eat some crappy food.
She was rounding the corner, dreaming of warm pajamas and hot chocolate, when she spotted the cop from the diner that morning leaning up against the fence next to her building. She felt a thrill go through her at the sight of him before reality came crashing down on why he was there. She considered backtracking and slipping in through the back way, but ultimately what could he do to her? She hadn't broken any laws. She had no idea how he found her, but she was sure all he wanted from her was to question where Rob was.
"Officer," she said as she walked up. She already had his attention; he had been scowling at her since she walked into the glow of a nearby streetlight.
"I could arrest you, you know," he frowned at her, his arms crossed and looking very menacing. She laughed despite being a little bit afraid he just might do it.
"For what? Pissing you off?" she asked, mirroring his stance.
"Obstruction of justice," he replied, pausing just long enough that she knew it was a threat. "Are you familiar with this man?"
He pulled a picture out of his inside jacket pocket and she took it from him, angling it towards the streetlight. It was a mugshot of Rob sporting a black eye. She placed it as his arrest a few years ago.
They had been drinking at a bar together and Rob, who was essentially the brother she never had, had gotten into it with some random guy who wouldn't leave her alone. The man decked him but took off before Rob could have retribution. Rob had found out who he was the next day; he paid the guy a visit and trashed his car, boosting the stereo for kicks. The police caught him on the way to pawning it. Just as she had suspected, all he wanted from her was to find Rob.
"Yes," Lizzy sighed, shifting her bag higher up on her shoulder. Officer Adonis looked surprised at her honesty.
"And… his whereabouts?" He asked, pulling out a hand-sized notebook and clicking a pen.
"No idea," Lizzy replied, smirking.
"Of course," he sighed, tapping his pen against the back of the notebook. "Listen, young lady-"
"Oh please don't start that again," she interrupted him. "If this going to take any longer, can we at least go inside? I'm going numb."
He considered her for a minute.
"It was a long walk home," she added, giving him a pitiful look. He finally gave a short nod. "How did you find me anyway?"
"It wasn't difficult," was all he would say as they made their way up the three-floor walk up to the apartment she shared with Charlotte. She unlocked the door, tossing her bag just inside but turning to him before stepping in.
"I should probably see a badge before I let some strange man into my apartment," she grinned up at him, leaning against the door frame. He frowned at her, a dubious look on his face. "Hey, all I know is you have a gun and you followed me home."
He sighed, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a black wallet-sized badge. She took it from him gleefully, flipping it open to see a gold shield on one side and his identification on the other.
"Let's see what we have, officer-oh! Excuse me. Detective Darcy," he took the badge back from her and gestured to the open doorway. She backed up so he could enter, and then closed the door behind him, shedding her overcoat and messenger bag that held her books from school.
"Do you want anything to drink? Water, coffee, hot chocolate?" she offered, heading right for the kitchen.
"No thank you. Any idea where Rob Reynolds would be tonight?" He asked, thumbing his notebook.
"I already said I didn't know," she filled a saucepan with milk and put it on the stove.
It wasn't strictly true. She could probably name about three possibilities of where her friend would be tonight and know he could be found at one of them, but Rob was her friend after all, and this detective was keeping her from the veg out she so richly deserved.
"The last I saw hi m he dropped me off at Grove and Bell," she added this information to seem helpful, she knew for a certainty that he wouldn't be back there tonight.
"Grove and Bell?" He perked up. "Any chance you know this man?" he pulled another picture out of his pocket and handed it to her. She sighed, looking it over for only a moment before she grimaced and handed the photo back. The picture was a lot more worn and a lot more recent.
"Unfortunately," she said. "George Wickham. Kind of a sleazebag, but harmless."
"Not as harmless as you might think," he commented with a dark look, and then asked, "Did you come in contact with him today?"
"No," she said, turning back to her hot chocolate mix.
"You got dropped off at his house but didn't come in contact with him?" he asked, clearly skeptical. She poured the milk into the mix, stirring and blowing on it as she came around the counter to sink gratefully into the couch.
"Look, detective. Rob picked me up from the diner because he was supposed to give me a ride to school-"
"School?" he questioned, writing in his notebook.
"Yes," she replied, looking up at him. He stared back, silent. "I go to the local community college," she finally offered.
"So, after tipping Reynolds off that I was waiting to question him and fleeing from a police officer, Reynolds takes you to Wickham's place, where you don't actually see Wickham? Am I correct so far?" Darcy questioned skeptically. He was tapping his pen on his notebook again; it seemed like an impatient and unconscious gesture.
"I might have seen him, actually," she squinted into her cup, remembering that morning. "We pulled up to his place and there was someone in the window looking out, but I couldn't tell who it was," Lizzy sat back, sipping her hot chocolate.
It wasn't ideal, but she was finally where she wanted to be all day. If only this cop would get lost, so she could change into something more comfortable. She thought of what the look on his face might be if she told him that she just wanted to slip into something a little more comfortable and almost snorted into her cup.
"This is very important," the detective crouched down close to her, a grave look on his face. The amusement drained out of her at his serious, earnest tone. "Did you see George Wickham today?"
"I told you I haven't," she replied immediately and emphatically. "Like I said, the guy isn't my favorite," Lizzy explained.
He nodded, looking down in thought, but didn't back off.
"He's Rob's friend," she frowned at her own words. Why did she feel the need to say that?
"And you're Rob's friend," he commented, looking back up at her.
"So?" she questioned, affronted. Did he just compare her to Wickham? He flipped through his notebook, glancing at what was written there.
"You have no arrest record, but you sure do pop up on the radar, and in connection to a lot of dirtbags," he said, standing up and beginning to survey her crappy apartment.
"Dirtbags?" She echoed, insulted. "Nice."
"How well do you know George Wickham?" he questioned. She signed, swirling the dregs of her not so hot chocolate and wondering why she didn't sneak in the back way after all.
"I don't know. I've met him a few times," she replied vaguely, hoping he would drop this line of questioning.
"Listen, Miss Bennet…" Darcy started again. Lizzy groaned, looking at the ceiling in irritation.
"Look, detective. I know you want me to be his BFF so I could give you whatever dirt you want on him, but-" Lizzy started, but fell silent when he stepped in front of her once more. The look on his face was solemn and serious, and she felt a sense of foreboding.
"Two women are missing in connection with Wickham," he stared her down, letting the words sink in. "Two that we know of, that we are sure about. Do you understand what I mean when I tell you this is not a man you want to be friends with?"
"Yes," she murmured, keeping eye contact so he would see that she was taking his warning seriously, and not feel the need to elaborate. "I understand."
It wasn't the first time she found out someone she had hung out with turned out to be a dangerous criminal, but for some reason, this felt different; maybe it was the detective standing in her living room talking about two missing girls, but Lizzy couldn't help a shudder run through her at his serious mien. What had he done to them? She couldn't force herself to ask the question. She was sure to come in contact with him soon and she did not want the image in her head when she did.
"That's good," he nodded once, then paused. "Now this other friend of yours, Rob-"
"Ok, Rob may not be the smartest guy in the world but he is like a brother to me. So yeah, I tipped him off because that's what friends do. I don't know where he is now, and I probably wouldn't tell you if I did," she told him bluntly, but not harshly. Maybe she was being too honest, too confrontational, but he had thrown her off coming in here talking about Wickham.
"I understand all of that Miss Bennet. For the record, I am only interested in Mr. Reynolds in connection with Wickham. I need to pin down some details. I would appreciate it," here he paused, taking out a card from his pocket, "If you could pass the message along to your friend."
She set her empty mug down and exchanged it for his card, looking it over. "I can do that," she stood, following him to the door. "But I wouldn't get your hopes up."
"If you happen to come in contact with Wickham for any reason…" Darcy started and she plucked another card from his hand.
"I'll call," she said sweetly. His mouth quirked in a slight grin and Lizzy felt accomplished to have pulled that out of the - as far as she's seen – very serious man. "Goodnight detective."
"Goodnight, Miss Bennet. Stay safe," he said, heading off towards the stairs.
She listened as he made his way down to the bottom floor, and then watched from her window as he entered his car and drove off. Only then did she pick up the phone and dial a number.
"Yo," Rob answered after the third ring, sounding mercifully sober despite a lot of background noise that made it sound like he was at a party.
"Rob. That cop from this morning came by my place looking for you," she told him, jumping right to the point.
He cursed, then sounded like he was walking somewhere. All of a sudden, the background noises she had been hearing were cut silent.
"What did he want?" he asked with a low, urgent voice.
Lizzy gave him a summary, explaining everything about Wickham and the murderers. Rob cursed again.
"He can't know you talked to some cop about him," Rob warned. Lizzy frowned at his wording.
"I didn't talk to some cop about him," she corrected sharply. "I told you - he wants to talk to you about Wickham. I don't know enough to tell, even if I wanted to."
"I'm not talking to the cops," Rob said sternly. Lizzy rolled her eyes, though he couldn't see her. "I'll tell Wickham some cop is hassling you looking for me, but neither of us is saying anything about Wickham being the real target, got it?"
"Yeah, yeah," Lizzy sighed.
"Get rid of those cards," Rob warned, and then he was gone.
Lizzy plugged her phone in for the. She took the cards back out of her pocket, tore one of them up, and threw it away. She looked thoughtfully down at the other one. She had done what Rob asked with his card, but the detective had given this one to her, and for some reason, she was reluctant to destroy it. If Wickham really was capable of such horrendous things, wouldn't it be a good idea to have a detective that is hunting him in her proverbial back pocket?
She hid the card in a book on her bookshelf and then finally got out of her clothes and into something old, worn, and comfortable.
"Couldn't hurt," she affirmed to herself, sinking into the couch and beginning to flip through the channels.