Operation Tropical Affair: A Poppy McVie Adventure (Poppy McVie Series Book 1) by Kimberli Bindschatel

that doesn’t sound good?” He paused a beat. “What’d you do?”
    “Nothing! I busted the Lawson boys. But this is…Listen, I can’t tell you. I just wanted to say hey.”
    “Well, now you’ve got me worried.”
    “Well don’t. I can handle the job. It’s just—”
    He drew in a quick breath. “Oh my holy-hell. It’s a man.”
    I blushed. Only Chris could make me blush. “It’s complicated.”
    “Oh my holy-hell, it’s two men. I just talked to you last week. You were bellyaching about rednecks and lumberjacks and now you got a love triangle going on?” I heard the rustle of blankets and his hand over the phone. It was the middle of the night in Shanghai.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time zone you were in.”
    “No, no, no. I picked up, didn’t I? Now tell me everything. I want every juicy detail. Like what are you doing in Costa Rica?”
    Crap. Double crap.  
    “You think I don’t know the country code? It’s on my caller ID. Hey, are you on the Pacific side? There’s a great hotel with a swim up bar that—”
    “No, some bungalow in the valley, Arenal Gardens or something, and—never mind, I can’t talk about it.” I glanced down the street, one way, then the other. A random pay phone wouldn’t be tapped, but being on it might cause suspicion. “You know, sometimes my work, I can’t talk.”  
    “Um, sweetheart, you called me.”
    “I know.”
    “This is much more than guy trouble, isn’t it?”
    “I’m sorry, love. I gotta go.” I hung up. Crap. What was I thinking? He’d understand; I’d explain it all to him at Christmas. But that was a dumbass thing to do. I gritted my teeth. That was a rookie move, McVie. If I didn’t watch my step, Dalton would boot me before I could stop my head from spinning. I needed to be more careful.  
    I circled back through the hardware store. I’d forgotten electrical tape. Definitely not on my game. I need to step it up.
    I found a little cafe serving Costa Rican fare that had several vegetarian options. I sipped an iced tea and went over what had happened so far in my mind. Mr. Strix had told me to follow protocol, to listen to my SAC. But Dalton was so damn aggravating. My mother always accused me of having issues with authority. Damn, I hated when she was right.
    After I finished my meal, I decided to take a walk, look for birds, at least I could add a few to my life list while I was here, when my phone rang. It was Dalton. “Where are you?”
    “Why, I’m shopping, darling. Where else would I be?”
    “Get back to the bungalow. I got the call.”
    Hot damn! Lights, camera, action. I’m going to pick a monkey.  

    The call came as an email. Anonymously, of course. We were to be ready at the bungalow for a white panel van to pick us up at seven o’clock.  
    “Are you ready for this?” Dalton asked.
    “Bring it on. Let’s do this thing.”
    “You understand, the van is so we can’t see where we’re going. They’ll want us disoriented. And we’ll likely be in an isolated location. We’re on our own. It could get ugly. ”
    “I can handle it.”
    He paced.  
    I said, “Somehow I don’t think a Navy SEAL would get so nervous about a simple covert action.”
    He glared at me. “I don’t like wild cards.”
    I shrugged. “I’m your loving wife, wanting a pet monkey. Nothing more. Nothing less. It’s simple.”
    He grimaced. “Why do I get the feeling nothing’s simple with you.”

    Seven o’clock rolled around. No van. At seven-twenty-two, a white, solid sided panel van rolled into the parking lot. The back door opened and Dalton and I hopped in. One man drove while another man in the back motioned for us to sit on the floor and stay there. There was no confusion about it. The men were both native Costa Ricans, nothing particularly notable about them. They were delivery men. That was all.
    We made a right out of the parking lot, drove about two miles, then made a left, then an immediate right, then we