Bright red definitely didn't suit him. It made his skin look sallow rather than tanned. But when combined with the silver-gray contact lenses, it went a long way towards disguising his identity. Add faded denims, a black t-shirt and a worn black-leather jacket, and he looked nothing like his usual suit-wearing official self, even though he'd done nothing to disguise or hide his actual facial features.
But then, he didn't need to. Few people really stopped to examine faces—most folks just scanned surface appearances, making basic assumptions based on little more than clothing and skin color. That had been proven time and again in lineups and undercover operations the world over.
He picked up his keys, wallet and coat. As he headed for the door, anticipation rose in him. What sort of disguise would Vannah wear? During her time at Rosehall, she'd worn all sorts of costumes—from the prim and proper librarian to a leather-clad whip-mistress, both of which he'd enjoyed immensely. Neither of those was suitable for tonight's venture, but he had no doubt that whatever she came up with would be equally exciting. If there was one thing Vannah could never be accused of, it was lacking imagination.
So why had she settled for being a ranger?
The world of police work, with all its rigid rules and regulations, was one occupation he would never have thought she'd be comfortable in. The Vannah he'd known had been a free spirit and would have chaffed under the restrictions she now worked with.
But then, how well had he really known her? He hadn't even known she was using a false name, for heavens sake. Which, when he actually thought about it, was pretty slack police work on his part—and that of his supervisors.
Why hadn't they known?
The thought niggled at him, and instead of heading for his car, he turned and walked to his team's room.
"Hey, pretty sexy look you have happening there, boss man,” Trista said, her expression amused as her gaze swept him up and down.
"Apparently, if I don't wear a disguise to this nightclub, our quarry will run."
"You sure our chief ranger isn't pulling your leg?"
"No, I'm not.” And worse yet, he hadn't even thought of the possibility. He glanced at Anton. “You had a chance to go through the files and find my notes?"
Anton shook his head and raised the pizza slice he held. “Thought I'd have something to eat, first. Why?"
"Because I want you to uncover what identity checks were done for Vannah Harvey and Nelle James in the early stages of the original investigation."
Anton frowned. “There must have been checks. I mean, you didn't go in blind and randomly select a target, did you?"
"No. But there wasn't much in the folders I was given on Vannah and Nelle, other than photos, names and their position in the group."
Trista reached across the table and picked up a slice of pizza. “But it's standard procedure that all possible crosschecks are done before sending an agent undercover. If they came up empty, it would have raised suspicions."
"If the little amount of information caused alarm, I certainly didn't know about it."
Anton's frown deepened. “Considering you were the one going undercover, I would have thought you'd be told if there were doubts about your target's identity."
"I'd have thought so, too.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw, wincing when he hit the darkening bruise. Still, a bruise added to the cover, because people would focus on that more than his actual features. “While you're checking the files, do a crosscheck on James Oliver, too."
Trista raised her eyebrows. “Why? Oliver quit the IIS with a spotless record, didn't he?"
Cade nodded. “Eight years ago. He's apparently living in Florida nowadays."
"So why run a check on him?"
"Because something about all this feels wrong.” He glanced at Anton. “If I was right all those years ago and there was a second person involved, then maybe Vannah wasn't the only reason it almost went to hell."
"Hang on, hang on,” Trista said. “I'm missing something here. How did our head ranger almost cause it all to go to hell?"
Cade grimaced. “Nelle was Vannah's best friend, and I believe she warned Nelle that I was going after Jontee. Nelle then warned Jontee, who almost succeeded in ambushing and killing me."
"So why wasn't she charged for impeding an investigation? Why wasn't a warrant issued for them both?"
"Because I was under orders to let it drop. Oliver had his man, and that was all he cared about."
"Odd."
"Thinking about it now, yes, very odd."