Page 132 of Surly Sheriff
Heart full, body full, she laid her forehead against his. “Thank you for coming with me and making a miserable trip fun.”
His hands cupped her face. “You’re most welcome.”
*
“You’re very quiet,” Beau remarked, crossing the room to where his wife stared out of the window as nighttime settled over the city.
“It’s Jack’s bedtime, and I miss him terribly.”
“I miss him, too.” He slid his arms around her, pulling her flush against his body. “But he’s safe with Nate and Bella, and the Armstrongs. Not to mention Xena. And JP and Beth will keep watch over everyone. And think of all the fun he’ll have with his cousins and friends. A vacation at the secluded lake in Colorado was a genius suggestion from Oliver.”
“But we’re not there to read his bedtime story and tuck him in,” she moaned.
He dropped a kiss on the side of her head. “Clement promised to read to him. And Bella will tuck him in.”
A smile crossed her lips. “At least he’s warming up to Bella.”
He grinned. A favorite aunt competition had developed between Aunty Bella and Aunty Liss. “This might just push Aunty Bella into the lead.”
Rae chuckled. “Not so sure. Aunty Lissisrather inventive with her spoils.”
“And speaking of Felicity …” He lifted his hand, showing her the cellphone — an untraceable bought for the trip — in his hand. “She texted to let us know that she and Ronan arrived safely and have settled into their hotel.”
Felicity and Ronan were in the city. The pair would provide extra security and be on hand if things fell apart.
“Still not happy with my sister tagging along,” she muttered.
“Felicity is a highly trained law enforcement officer, Rae. My best deputy. And she insisted.”
She slumped against him. “I know.”
Beau angled his neck and placed his mouth against her ear. “Come to bed, baby.” He moved his hands under her loose cotton tee and up to cup her breasts, kneading gently. “And let me make you forget about everything but me.”
Rae whimpered. “Sounds awesome.”
His expression turned serious. “You’reawesome, Raegan.”
*
The next morning, Rae transitioned into Inessa Liminov by applying a prominent prosthetic nose and heavy foundation to even out her skin tone. A full set of veneers changed the shape of her mouth, and she practiced her accent, giving it a Southern twang with a Russian undertone. She opted for a mousy brown, shaggy short hairstyle, and wore a conservative pants suit with low heels.
Beau lost the extra padding, trimmed his beard, and donned brown contacts and a dark blond, shoulder-length wig. A generic watch replaced the Rolex, and he dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and a leather jacket, transitioning into Miss Liminov’s professional bodyguard, Michael Beaumont, hailing from New Orleans, Georgia. His wallet contained a corresponding driver’s license and credit card, and a photo of April and Rose, his wife and baby daughter back home.
Absolutely nothing tied them to the Worthingtons.
But more importantly, nothing tied them to Beau and Rae Stirling from Clearbrook, Nebraska. What followed were three days of intensive meetings with the FBI and the attorneys from the Connecticut DA’s office. The trial was taking place in Hartford, Connecticut, but the DA had agreed to her demands of choosing a different venue for their meetings. She had selectedNYC, liking the anonymity of the vast city to conceal their movements.
The days were draining for Rae, reliving her mother’s death, repeatedly, but despite having suppressed those memories for many years, his wife’s recollection was strong, and her testimony credible.
The DA and FBI were all positive they would get a conviction.
But doubt gnawed at her, and no amount of pacifying from Beau could ease her growing despair.
“Vasily is smart, Beau,” she said, pacing the hotel room, scrunching her shirt in her hand.
“His power has diminished; his money gone.”
“I know.”
