Page 104 of Surly Sheriff
24
Unraveling
“I was so scared,” she said, pressing the scatter cushion to her chest. They had both moved to the couch during her lengthy recitation of her escape, and she sat cross-legged beside him. “But drowning was preferable to the alternative.”
“Open sea?” Beau placed a hand on her knee, desperate for contact. He swallowed back the instinctive fear of two young girls,one being his Rae, out on the ocean in the middle of the night. In adinghy. At the mercy of unpredictable currents and rogue waves. Hidden rocks. He had experienced enough nighttime water infiltrations to know how quickly things could go wrong. Even for a trained Marine.
“We lived in Newport, Rhode Island, and knew the coastline well, having spent many hours sailing on those waters. It was the one pleasure we were allowed. Our biggest risk was detection by the Coast Guard while on the open water.”
Rhode Island.Atlantic Ocean.
Sweet Jesus Christ.“How far did you row?”
She shrugged, tracing the piped edges of the cushion. “A while. But when the cliffs disappeared in the dark behind us, we risked the outboard motor and chugged across to Narragansett. It was slow going as we kept our speed down. A wake would’ve been visible for miles. All in all, we were on the water for a couple of hours. The worst was the wind. We were both soaked to the skin.”
His blood chilled. Hypothermia. “But you made it,” he said, stating the obvious with relief.
“Yeah. We made it. My uncle’s mistress had a house right on the ocean. We knew the coordinates and coded them into the little GPS unit on the dinghy. It was one of the few places we were allowed to visit. She had two children around our age, Ivan and Irina. Most likely our cousins, but nobody admitted as much. They were away in France for the month, and I knew where they hid the spare keys. While the house was a suitable landing spot, we couldn’t stay there, but there was a car in the garage nobody would miss for weeks, andthatwas our goal. Once ashore, we set the dinghy adrift, hoping the current would take it out to sea. We basically crawled up the stoney beach, stiff and sluggish from the cold, but at least our fingers and toes were intact.” She gave a low, humorless laugh, and shoved the cushion to the floor. “Seems our Russian blood was good for something after all.”
Russianblood? Beau grabbed hold of her hands and raised his brows. “Maybe it's time you told me who you are.”
She drew her shoulders back and tried to pull free from his grasp, but he tightened his grip. A scowl creased her forehead.
“Just spit it out, Raegan.”
She huffed. “You’re so … vexing.”
“Pot. Kettle.”
“Fine.” Another huff. “I was born Inessa Liminov.”
“Inessa …Liminov?” His jaw slackened and his eyes widened. “As in the Russian mobsters?”
“That’s me.” She expelled a harsh laugh, again trying to free her hands from his grip. He held on. “Former Bratva brat,” she added with a flick of her head.
“Fuck, Rae.” The inner workings on the rise and fall of the notorious Liminov crime syndicate had been mandatory reading during his time in Eastern Europe thanks to their prior activity in the region. The organization had tumbled like a house of cards when the Feds, in conjunction with other law enforcement agencies, executed a coordinated raid in several countries. They had brought hundreds of criminals to justice — from the head of the family, Vasily Liminov, to the lowliest foot soldier, and their informants spread across all areas of government and law enforcement worldwide.
The section on how the FBI came about the information they used to destroy the Liminovs had been redacted.
“You handed over the evidence you took from the safe to the FBI?”
“Yeah. We had to be careful who we contacted because Sergei” — she gave him a quick look — “my grandfather, had spies everywhere. But there was one man in the FBI who both Sergei and Vasily feared. Simon Barker, an agent in the organized crime unit in the New York City office.”
Despite his shock at her revelations and concern for her safety, her story fascinated him. “How did you get in touch with him?”
“It took some doing. We were so tired, but our fear of being found overcame exhaustion. We showered, cut our hair short, and dressed in dry clothes pilfered from Ivan’s closet. Using backroads, Kat got us to Hartford. We arrived as the morning commute started and took a train to New York City. Dressed as boys, we hoped that the crowds and our disguises wouldkeep people from recognizing the missing Liminov girls if our disappearance made the news.
“We called Agent Barker from Grand Central Station. At first, he didn’t believe me, but after I read a couple of entries from the ledger, he met us.” Her lips curled into a soft smile. “He took extraordinary lengths to keep us protected.”
“I should damn well think so,” Beau grunted. “You handed him the evidence to dismantle a major crime syndicate and put away some very dangerous criminals. That case made his career.”
She tugged her hands again. This time, he let her go. She uncrossed her legs and placed her feet on the floor. “I’m exhausted, Beau. Today has been draining. And dredging up the past … I can’t anymore. Not tonight. Besides, you need to get back to Kismet.”
She rubbed her palms over her pale face, and despite citing exhaustion, Beau had an idea sleep would not come easy for her.
Worse, he was certain she had not slept well in months, if not years.
The shadows underscoring her eyes told their own story, and a wispy tendril of long-buried affection toward her drifted up through the cracks of his soul.
