that folder backward and forward. I don’t need to tell you that your life might depend on it.”
The file was thick, filled with information she’d need to know as well as she knew her own name. “How long do I have before I go in?” she asked.
“Three days. You’ll spend three days here memorizing those things, getting into character, then we’ll move you to your new living quarters and you’ll start your new waitress job at Night Life on Saturday night.”
He pulled a new cell phone from his pocket and placed it on the table. “I’ll be your only contact. Speed dial one to connect with me day or night. The phone is legit and registered under the name of Jessica Sinclair.”
His eyes were dark, enigmatic as he gazed at her. “For the next three days you’re going to be dependent on me for everything. I’ll bring you your meals and whatever else you might need while you’re here.”
She hated this part, the utter dependency on anyone and especially this person. But she also knew the necessity for it. Before she could respond to him, a knock sounded at the door.
“That must be Carolyn,” he said. He got up, ignoring the question on Cassie’s face.
He opened the door to allow in a short, squat dark-haired middle-aged woman carrying two small suitcases. She set the suitcases just inside the door and threw herself into Kane’s arms. “Kane, my darling man, it’s been too long. You’re just as handsome as ever.” She gave his cheek a playful love slap.
“Carolyn, you little bundle of dynamite, you make my heart pound with desire,” he replied, causing the plump woman to giggle like a schoolgirl.
Kane had the capacity to charm a nun into bad habits…or out of her habit when he wanted. Of course, in the time Cassie had spent with him so far there had been none of his easy charm directed at her.
And that’s the way I want it, she reminded herself. Strictly business, the way it should have been when they’d worked together before.
“Carolyn, this is Cassie Newton,” Kane said as Cassie stood. “Cassie, this is Carolyn McIntyre, makeup artist extraordinaire.”
“Oh, my, Cassie Newton, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” Carolyn grabbed both Cassie’s hands in hers and squeezed tightly, her eyes sparkling in obvious admiration. “I’ve heard so much about you from people in the agency. You’re a legend.”
Cassie laughed with a touch of self-consciousness. “I don’t know about that, but it’s nice to meet you, too, Carolyn.”
“Carolyn is going to give you a makeover,” Kane said. “You’ve spent time on the streets in your job as a police officer. It’s her job to make you look different enough that nobody will recognize you as Cassandra Newton or Officer Newton.”
Carolyn reached up and grabbed Cassie by the chin, her green eyes narrowed in concentration as she turned Cassie’s face first one way, then the other. “Good bone structure…nice skin…we’ll have to do something about the eyes and the hair, both are too distinctive.”
Carolyn whipped around to face Kane. “Out,” she said and pointed to the door. “No good artist ever works in front of an audience.”
Kane opened his mouth to protest, but Carolyn was having nothing to do with it. She grabbed him by the arm and propelled him toward the door. She moved like a minitank, with determination and purpose, not stopping until Kane was out the door. “Come back in three hours or so and you can see the finished result.”
Three hours? What in the heck did the woman intend to do to her? Cassie wondered.
Carolyn turned back to face Cassie and rubbed her hands together in a gesture of extreme anticipation. “Now, we get to work.”
Was it Cassie’s imagination or did Carolyn have the slightly demented look of a mad scientist?
Two and a half hours later Cassie stood in the bathroom in front of the mirror and stared at the reflection of a stranger.
Carolyn wasn’t just an artist, she was a wizard and had managed to transform Cassie into someone else.
Gone was her trademark long ponytail. Instead her hair had been cut to shoulder length and feathered around her face in a sort of long shag.
Contact lenses changed her eye color from blue to deep green and the makeup Carolyn had applied had subtly changed the shape of her face, giving her higher cheekbones and a slightly exotic look.
While Carolyn had worked, she’d chattered nonstop about skin and hair care. “Never sleep in your makeup,” she said. “No matter how late it is, no matter how tired you are, always clean your makeup off to let your pores breathe.”
Cassie was about to go undercover on an assignment where the stakes were high and a mistake could mean her life and Carolyn was worried about her having clean facial pores.
Still, even though the woman had chattered like teeth on an icy night, she knew her business. Cassie didn’t look like Cassie, but she had to admit, she liked the new look.
The bathroom, on the other hand, looked like a war zone. Carolyn had pronounced herself an artist, and apparently her palette was not only Cassie’s face but also anything in a ten-foot radius.
Base powder speckled the sink, along with an array of various eye-shadow colors. A contact lens hung on the faucet, like an errant eye glaring askew. It had taken Cassie twenty minutes to finally get the hang of putting something foreign in her eyes.
The remnants of her hair littered the floor, looking one-dimensional and boring compared to the silver highlights Carolyn had added to her new do.
Yes, Carolyn had done a heck of a job, but apparently cleanup wasn’t in her job description. Cassie had managed to tidy up most of the sink when she heard the door to the motel open, then close.
She turned and saw Kane entering the room. He walked to the doorway of the bathroom, stopped abruptly and stared at her. “Amazing,” he said softly. “You look absolutely amazing.”
For just a moment his gaze felt hot…hungry on her and heat ignited deep within her. But as quickly as it had appeared, the look in his eyes disappeared and a cold, hard darkness took its place. “At least nobody should recognize you unless they know you pretty well.”
He turned and walked over to the bed and once again opened the suitcase he’d brought in with him earlier in the evening. “You’ll find everything you need for the next couple of days here…pajamas, clean clothing and toiletries. If there’s anything else you specially need or want, let me know and I’ll see that you get it.”
“All right.”
“It’s late. I’m going to get out of here and let you get a good night’s sleep.” He motioned toward the folder on the table. “You have a lot of work ahead of you.” He moved to the motel room door and opened it. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. And Cassie…welcome back.” With these words he turned and left the room.
Welcome back, indeed, she thought. She walked to the door and locked it then peeked out the heavy, puke-green curtains. What was it about motel rooms and that particular color of green?
Her
