Page 134 of Surly Sheriff
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Even in death, Vasily Liminov exuded evil. Her eyes scanned his upper torso, the stitched y-incision vivid against the waxy pallor of his skin. And the tattoos. Lord, she had forgotten about his tattoos. The stars on his shoulders; the cross stretching fromsternal notch down past his pectorals. And she recalled the time he had gotten the long scar on his right arm.
Which reminded her … “Is there a mole behind his left ear?”
Simon moved to the top of the table and bent down. “Yes.”
“And the tip of his right pinkie is missing,” the ME added.
Ah yes, that was from the same time he got the scar. She looked at Simon. “And you’re sure he’s dead?”
“I watched them remove his heart myself,” the FBI man replied.
“Good. May he burn for eternity.” She turned her back on the body and looked at Beau. “I am ready to go home.”
Simon stepped up to her, and blast it all, the stalwart man had tears in his eyes when he took her hands in his. “Inessa, it was an honor knowing and working with you. Your bravery and commitment to justice had been an inspiration. I wish you nothing but peace and happiness for your future.”
“Dammit, Simon,” she whispered, blinking rapidly, giving the man a quick hug. “You’re making me cry.”
Simon turned his attention to Beau. “You look after her. She’s one in a million.”
“That she is.”
“And maybe one day, once the dust has settled, I’ll find an invitation in the mail …” He hiked up a brow, his eyes flicking between them, clearly seeing through their bodyguard-protectee ruse.
“We can arrange that,” Beau replied.
“I look forward to that day. Now, be off with you two.”
Beau placed his hand on her back and guided her from the viewing room.
She only took a full breath when they reached the parking lot. “It’s really over,” she whispered, looking up at the clear sky. The sun warmed her skin, dispelling the last of the shadows chasingher since birth. It might take a while for the reality to saturate her soul, but the danger was gone and—
“Inessa,” a man called out.
Rae stiffened, and Beau stepped in front of her, blocking her view. “Who’re you?” he barked.
She risked a peek around her protector’s shoulder. And recognized the man two cars down. “Andrei,” she muttered.
“Yourcousin?” Beau hissed.
“He saved my life, honey. Let me talk to him.”
“Give me a moment,” he grumbled and approached Andrei. “You armed?”
Andrei shook his head and spread his arms out.
“Turn around, hands on the vehicle,” Beau ordered.
Without saying a word, her cousin complied, and Beau efficiently patted him down. He moved aside, grunted, “He’s clean,” and beckoned her over.
Andrei turned and tilted his chin toward the building behind them. “Is it him?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Andrei fixed his stare on her. “I’d hoped to talk to you, and when I heard about the shooting, I figured I’d lost my opportunity. How I wish I’d done more for Tatiana and Katarina. What Grandfather did … it was reprehensible. I …” He trailed off and looked away briefly before focusing anguished eyes on her. “Instead, I went off to boarding school, turning my back on what was happening under that roof. It’s a regret I will take to my grave.”
“You were a mere child yourself, Andrei. Only a year older than Tati. Besides, Vasily didn’t spare you. He beat you bloody when you defied him.”
