Undercover Source Sneak Peek: Chapter 1

Warning: This is a semi-edited second or third draft—who keeps track, anyway?—and may contain grammatical errors. Reader discretion advised.

PRESENT

COLSBORO, OHIO

I WAS ALREADY WIDE AWAKE at two a.m. when the phone rang, cutting through the too-silent darkness of my hundred and fifteenth sleepless night. Give or take. Rolling over onto my side, I threw an arm across the bed to my nightstand, where my phone was lit up like a digital beacon, and slid it closer. Unknown number.

Well, this couldn’t be good. But in my experience, middle-of-the-night calls rarely were.

I tapped the green accept call button and pressed the phone to my ear. “H’lo?”

“Is this Jennifer Gibbs?”

“Speaking.”

“My name is Miranda, and I’m calling from Colsboro University Medical Center emergency department,” she said, and I sucked in a breath. “You’re the emergency contact for a—” She paused, the sound of paper shuffling in the background filtering over the line. “Kellyn Mallaghan?”

My heart jumped and lodged itself in my throat. “What happened?”

“She’s okay, but she’s been in an accident,” Miranda explained. “She’s got some minor injuries, and—”

“I’ll be right there.” Without waiting for a response, I disconnected and threw back the covers, fumbling for the lamp switch on my bedside table. Light spilled out, temporarily blinding me, as I darted out of bed and stumbled to my dresser. Five minutes later, I’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed my purse and keys, and was peeling out of my driveway in a semi-contained panic.

It was the first I’d heard from Kellyn in weeks. The last time we spoke, she’d dropped a hydrogen bomb on me out of the blue, and it had left our relationship a hostile wasteland. Although I finally cooled off and reached out to her, she was evidently still stoking the fire of her anger: My calls went straight to voice mail, my texts remained unanswered. It wasn’t long before I quietly surrendered. 

I’d had enough difficulty just persuading myself to get out of bed every morning. I couldn’t convince her to talk to me on top of everything else.

Especially when I couldn’t fault her for blaming me. I blamed me, too.

The emergency room was relatively quiet when I burst through the sliding doors, assaulted with a gust of cool antiseptic-tinged air and unwelcome memories. I beelined to the nurses station, focusing instead on finding Kellyn. A pink-scrubbed nurse pointed me in the direction of her cubicle, where a uniformed police officer stood guard, thick arms crossed over his bulky chest as he scanned the E.R. with sharp eyes.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered. The nurse gave me a tight smile and turned back to the chart she was working on. Steeling myself, I wove my way over to the cop, mentally running through dozens of possible explanations for his presence. None were good.

“Hi,” I said breathlessly. “I’m looking for Kellyn Mallaghan. I’m her cousin and—”

“I know who you are,” he said gruffly. 

I stifled a sigh. “Well, can I see her?”

Before he could respond, the curtain behind him rustled and slid to the side, revealing my younger brother Joey. Expression grim, he closed the curtain and gave the uni a curt nod before nudging me in the direction of the waiting room.

“Joey, what’s going on?”  

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down at me. “Kellyn’s about to get arrested for drunk driving.”

“What?” I exclaimed, and he pressed a finger to his lips. I took a deep breath and blew it out, then lowered my voice. “Is that why you’re here? You’re going to drag our cousin off to jail?”

“No, but that’s why Sanchez is here.” In unison, we glanced over at the uni, who had resumed sentry duty outside Kellyn’s cubicle. Joey turned back to me. “She went drinking with friends, got into her car, slammed into a utility pole, and passed out.” He shook his head. “Or she passed out and then slammed into a utility pole. Hard to tell.”

“Is she okay?”

“Aside from the point one nine blood alcohol level?” I winced, and he nodded emphatically in agreement. “She’s got some minor injuries and is being stitched up now. No other vehicles involved, thank God.”

“How’d you find out?”

He hesitated. “Kellyn called me when she woke up in the E.R.”

“Oh.”

“What about you?”

“I’m still her emergency contact.” I looked down at my shoes. “An oversight, I’m sure.”

A few beats of awkward silence passed. “Jen, I’m sure she would have called you if she weren’t so damn drunk,” Joey said. “Or if you had a badge.”

“Right,” I said, not at all sure myself. I lifted my gaze back to his. “Did you call Pierce?”

Joey’s brows twitched. Somehow he was always taken aback when I referred to our father by his first name, even though I’d been doing it for the last ten years. “Yes. He’s working on it.”

“Do Mom and Brian know?”

He snorted and shook his head. “I was strictly forbidden from calling anyone except legal representation or Ronald McDonald.”

Despite the situation, I laughed. “Ronald McDonald?”

“Apparently getting drunk and attempting to drive home really worked up her appetite.”

“If she’s hungry, I could go grab something,” I said hopefully.

“Don’t worry about it,” Joey said, waving a hand. “She promptly passed out after requesting a hundred-piece chicken nugget Happy Meal.” I attempted to hide my disappointment, but Joey noticed anyway, and reached out to squeeze my shoulder. “She’ll come around, sis. Just give her some time.”

I swallowed and summoned a smile. “So what happens now?”

He blew out a heavy sigh, dropping his hands to his hips. “Soon as she’s discharged and fully conscious, they’ll take her down to the precinct and book her. I’m going to call Dad first thing in the morning, but she won’t be able to get arraigned until Monday morning at the earliest.”

I lifted my hands to rub my temples. “Thirty-six-plus hours in jail is not going to help my cause.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“That’s not how she’ll see it.” Joey pressed his lips together and didn’t argue, because he knew I was right. Dejected, I let my arms fall to my sides. “What can I do?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Nothing any of us can really do at this point, except wait.”

I blew out a breath. “I’ll take one for the team and talk to Mom and Brian in the morning,” I offered. “Kellyn already hates me. What’s one more nail in the coffin?”

« »

By the time the judge called Kellyn’s case number on Monday morning, I’d chewed all my fingernails into nubs and long since given up trying to calm my restless leg syndrome—much to the irritation of everyone else sitting in the same row. 

On my left, my mother sat straight and rigid, her back barely touching the bench. Unlike me, she’d hardly moved in the last hour, but when the judge said Kellyn’s name, she reached out and grabbed Brian’s hand, squeezing it until her knuckles turned white. On my right, Joey let out a heavy sigh and straightened in his seat, tightening and releasing his fists several times as the side door of the courtroom opened, and Kellyn appeared.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I studied her as the bailiff led her to the defense table, where Pierce rose to his feet as she approached. She’d cut her hair short, deepened the reds of her naturally auburn shade and added streaks of bright magenta—the only the only splash of color against her pale skin. She wore all black, further slimming her already too-thin frame. Her shirt draped loosely across her shoulders, and her pants hung low on her hips, as if she’d lost weight. 

As the judge read the charges, Kellyn threw a glance over her shoulder and scanned the crowd behind her. Finally, her dull eyes landed on me; my chest tightened as her expression hardened, and she quickly turned away. The exchange only lasted two seconds at most, but they were two of the worst seconds I’d ever lived through.

On my lap, my phone vibrated, and I picked it up to see a text message from my older brother Jason.

Ouch. I think she’s happier to see Pierce than she is to see us.

I leaned forward, glancing around my parents to meet his gaze, and he winked at me. Pressing my lips together, I turned back to my phone and typed out a reply.

Not you guys. Just me.

I watched him read the message, and he sent me a scowl, shaking his head. Not true, he mouthed.

But it was.

« »

Outside the courtroom, Jason, Joey, and I watched as Pierce exchanged hushed words with Mom and Brian. A couple minutes later, my mom glanced at us and nodded before she and Brian strode off in the direction of the elevator. 

Pierce’s expression gave nothing away as he stalked across the polished floors and joined our circle. Lips pressed together, Jason stepped backward and leaned against the wall—close enough to hear our conversation but far enough away to reinforce his feelings about our father.

“Well?” I demanded. “Is her life forever ruined?”

“Of course not,” Pierce said with the confidence of an arrogant attorney. “Legally speaking, that is. The rest is up to her.”

Joey’s shoulders dropped, as if he’d been worried about the same thing. “Thanks for doing this, Dad. I know you don’t take on many pro bono cases like this.”

Behind me, Jason let out a soft snort at the understatement. Pierce took on very few pro bono cases period, and exactly zero pro bono cases like this. Unless the defendant was a minor celebrity or the case was so well publicized that God himself was tired of hearing the news coverage, he wouldn’t touch it with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole. Our father gave away nothing for free.

Judging by the slight narrowing of his eyes, Pierce had heard him, but chose to ignore it. 

“Certainly,” he said instead. “Happy to do it.”

I could almost hear Jason roll his eyes, but I resisted the urge to look.

“Right, well, I’ve got to get to work.” I adjusted my purse on my shoulder and stepped away. “But this has been fun. Let’s do it again sometime, huh?”

“Don’t you dare bail on tonight,” Jason warned, pointing an accusatory finger at me. 

I winced. While we were waiting for Kellyn’s case to be called, my mother had invited us over for a good, old fashioned, home-cooked meal. Very loudly, so there was no way to pretend we hadn’t heard. I’d rather have done a shot of vinegar than agree, but I’d given my mother enough gray hairs already and knew better than to argue.

I pasted on a huge fake smile. “I would never do that.”

“I’ll accompany you downstairs,” Pierce said in something resembling a fatherly tone. “I’ve got some paperwork to file on the first floor.”

Smiling smugly, Jason gave me a finger wave. “See you tonight.”

I surreptitiously flipped him the bird as I pivoted on my heel, and his laugh followed us down the hallway as we silently made our way toward the elevator. 

Pierce pressed the down button and faced me. “How are you doing?”

“Peachy keen.” I crossed my arms over my chest and willed the elevator doors to open. Not that I wanted to be trapped in an elevator with Pierce, but it would mean I was ten seconds closer to being away from him. “How are you doing? Made anyone cry on the stand lately?”

“I’ve been concerned about you. You haven’t been responding to my messages.”

I gave him a tight smile. “I haven’t been responding to anyone’s messages, but in your case, you should definitely take it personally.”

Pierce let out a light sigh. “I don’t want to see you end up like Kellyn.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. “Don’t worry,” I said as we waited for a few passengers to disembark. “It’s much more likely I’ll be murdered by the ghost of Jack the Ripper than embarrass you by getting a DUI.” 

Without waiting for a response, I spun on my toes and stepped into the elevator. As he followed me in, I jabbed the button for the ground floor several times in rapid succession. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Pierce press his lips together, as if preventing himself from smugly informing me that doing so wouldn’t make this experience end any faster.

“Speaking of DUIs,” I said as the elevator began to descend, “what happened on Saturday night?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Why don’t you just ask Kellyn yourself?”

“Because.” I shifted to my other foot. “She’s not speaking to me at the moment.”

“Why not?”

I bit back a snarky retort, knowing that lashing out wouldn’t convince him to help me. “She blames me for what happened.”

Pierce frowned. “Her DUI?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does, but I meant—” I cleared my throat. “Other things.”

His eyebrows arched in surprise as he searched for a diplomatic response. “That is unfortunate,” he said carefully, “but it doesn’t override attorney-client privilege.”

I resisted the urge to stomp my foot. “Come on, I just want to help her.”

“Honestly, Jennifer, there’s nothing you can do. She did this to herself.”

I blew out a heavy sigh. “I know. It just isn’t like her to be so irresponsible and reckless.” I let out a humorless laugh. “That’s my M.O.”

The elevator slowed to a stop. “People who are grieving often do things they wouldn’t normally do,” Pierce said softly. He held my gaze for a few beats as the doors swished open, then held his arm out, indicating I should go first. I disembarked in silence and stepped out of the way, my heels clacking against the marble floor as I turned toward the exit.

“Jennifer,” he said, putting a hand lightly on my arm. Surprised, I halted and turned to face him. “I’m sorry I can’t answer your questions. Truly. But—”

“Yeah, I get it.” I waved a dismissive hand. “Attorney-client privilege trumps biological relationship.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m headed that way.” 

I hooked a thumb in the direction of the revolving doors. “And I’m headed that way.” 

“Right.” He closed his mouth, hesitating for a few beats before continuing. “Kellyn wasn’t alone that night. She was accompanied by a couple of her friends from high school. Mara Shanahan is a University of Michigan student and was only in town for spring break, so it might be easier to get in touch with Darby Brooks.” He gave me a tight smile. “She works the morning shift at Brew Ha Ha on campus.”

Swallowing hard, I gave him a wide-eyed nod. “Thank you.”

“Please let me know if you find anything relevant to her case.” After an awkward pause, Pierce smiled tightly. “And be careful.”

Cover photo by Servet photograph on Pexels