Enemy From The Past (Unseen Enemy Book 4) (10 page)

Chapter Ten

Hunter gazed across the street, casually watching the main door to the police station. He knew that Ferguson got to work around this time every morning, and he glanced at his watch. Cordelia sat next to him, drinking a coffee and reading a newspaper. She was leaning against his arm, the very picture of a content wife. He felt her heat and softness, and a part of him wanted to pull her close, as close as possible.

She looked up at him now. “Rick?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“You want anything else to eat?”

His eyes sparkled down at her. “Maybe another cinnamon bun. They’re good here, huh?”

“They sure are.” Cordelia got to her feet and stretched a bit. Hunter averted his eyes as the movement pulled her t-shirt tight across those luscious breasts. “I’ll get one for each of us.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure, babe.”

She turned and went up to the counter. He kept an eye on the police station, an eye on her. He’d been stunned at how well she’d fallen in to the role of Sadie, his wife of just a few months, and he now regretted his first reaction of dismay and irritation. She was a natural at this, and if he was being honest, she was better at it than he was.

The woman was born to do undercover work. Fuck, she’s smart.

It was their fifth day in Foxburg Falls, and ‘Sadie Crawford’ had already managed to charm the local café owner, the hotel staff, and the property agent. Dallas had been right about Cordelia being the perfect cover for Hunter: she dazzled and chatted and distracted, and he was able to take a good look around, assess the situation without being too obvious. It was pretty clear that people simply thought that ‘Rick’ was quiet, and he was just fine with that. With a gorgeous, gregarious wife like Sadie, Rick could get away with it, and never come across as rude or off-putting.

Cordelia turned now, looked out of the massive café window. She paused, just for a millisecond, but it was enough to alert Hunter. He glanced in to the street again, and his body tensed. Michael Ferguson was entering the café, and after everything he’d heard and read about the man, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to get Cordelia the hell away from the fucker.

She strolled back to their table, smiling brightly at Ferguson as she passed him. “Good morning, Sheriff,” she said.

Hunter froze.

“Morning, ma’am.” The bastard actually tipped his hat at her. “How you doing today?”

“Just great,” she enthused. “We really love this town… with a bit of luck, we’ll be joining you all here for breakfast a bit more often.”

Ferguson looked over at Hunter now, nodded. ‘Rick’ nodded back and watched as the twisted asshole escorted ‘Sadie’ to her seat again.

Goddammit. She actually got us first contact with the man… she’s as cool as anyone I’ve ever worked with.

“I’m Michael Ferguson,” he said. “It’s good to meet you folks.”

“You too.” Hunter stood up, extended his hand. “I’m Rick Crawford, and you’ve met my wife Sadie.”

“Indeed I have.” Ferguson looked at the woman again and smiled, but a part of him was repulsed by her. He’d never seen an attractive black woman, and Sadie Crawford was no exception to the rule, in his opinion. Those types of women were always way too fat through the ass, though they tended to have nice tits. She had a pretty enough face, he supposed, but no way he’d be able to get past that coloring against his white bedsheets.

Urgh. The last thing I need in my town is more niggers. All’s they do is up the crime rate. I guess her husband would mostly keep her in line, though I have no idea how he actually gets it up for this monkey every night.

“So, you two are thinking about moving to the Falls?” he asked, feigning interest.

“Sure are,” the husband said. “Great little town. Perfect for raising a family.”

Oh, Christ. Little half-breeds running around raising hell. Fuck me.

“Oh, it is,” Ferguson said warmly. “We’d welcome you.”

“Thank you,” the black bitch said. “That’s so kind.”

“Well, I need to get to work, unfortunately,” Ferguson told them. “Enjoy your time here, and I hope to see you both again.”

“Yes, you too,” she told him, her teeth very white against that skin. “Have a good day.”

He tipped his hat again, the perfect gentleman, and headed over to Laura to get his coffee. The woman was as dumb as a box of rocks, but she had nice thighs and knew better than to bitch when he got rough with her. Hunter and Cordelia watched him greet her with a smile, then walk over to the police station and disappear through the door.

Without a word about it, they finished up their breakfast at a leisurely pace, then left. Hand-in-hand, they wandered up the street, window-shopping and chatting, the very picture of a happy couple. They went back to their hotel, entered their room. That was when Cordelia finally said what was on her mind.

“He hates women.”

Startled, Hunter stared at her. “He
what
now?”

“Hates women.”

Rage was rising in him. “How do you know?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how I know… I just do. The way he was talking to that woman behind the counter in the café? Pure contempt.”

“Yeah?” Hunter blinked at just how much he seemed to have missed.

“Oh, yeah.” She shook her head, angry. “I bet if we followed this guy around, we’d find that Kat isn’t the only woman in this town that he’s hurt and raped. And I’d
also
bet that each woman thinks she’s the only one, and that she can’t take on the almighty sheriff.”

Hunter leaned back. “You may be right.”

“I’d lay money on it.” She looked at him, her face fierce and beautiful. “You think we can find some way to use that against him?”

“I was just thinking that,” he said slowly. “Maybe. Or…”

“What?”

“Well, guys like this, they tend to think they’re above the law. You know? In my experience, they’re usually up to more than one thing.”

She studied him. “OK.”

“I think we should take some time to see what he gets up to after work.” Hunter narrowed his eyes. “We’re known and welcomed around town now, mostly because of your sparkling personality, so let’s start to take advantage of it, yeah?”

“How?”

“I’m not totally sure yet,” Hunter said. “But let’s follow Ferguson after he leaves work tonight. Maybe an opportunity will present itself. And I think that we should talk to Ellen and Nate soon. Tomorrow.”

“OK.” Cordelia sighed. “So… what do we do today?”

“Married couple stuff.”

She looked over at him and actually blushed. For her, ‘married couple stuff’ included spending all day in bed, and God help her, she’d love to do exactly that. Hunter was on the sofa, of course, while she was in the bed, but she was achingly aware of him, no matter where he was. Being this close to that amazing, muscular body for so many days and nights in a row was doing her head in.

“OK,” she said, trying to focus. “Want to wander the town a bit more?”

“Sure.” He smiled at her, loving the suggestion. When they were out and about, he had total freedom to touch her, as an adoring husband would. He could put his arms around that gorgeous body, touch those curved cheekbones, brush his lips over hers. It was – he had discovered to his utter dismay – his favorite part of this job. He liked being close to her, even though it meant that he was relieving the pent-up sexual tension in the shower every night and every morning.

Oh, Christ, man. You’ve got it bad. Let’s get something on this guy, then get the hell back to Denver. I won’t be able to take being around her like this for much longer
.

**

Olivia sipped her white wine, hoping that it might calm her nerves. Emma, Jenny and Kat chatted happily, but she felt separate from them, outside of their bubble of excitement. And they were all here for her, so she was actually supposed to be the one delirious with joy.

Nigel Ramirez swept in to the room now, followed by a smartly-dressed woman dragging a garment rack behind her. Liv blinked. Nigel must have pulled about twenty dresses.

“Darlings!” Nigel said. “So
good
to see you all!”

“You too, Nigel.” Emma grinned. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

“It’s my favorite part of planning a wedding,” he confessed. “The wedding dress… it makes me all tingly every time.”

They all looked at Liv, who plastered a big smile on her face. “Looks like you’ve chosen quite a few.”

“Well, of course, doll,” Nigel said, “We need to find
your
dress, don’t we?”

She nodded, trying to muster up some of the excitement she’d felt before, but being confronted by the rows and rows of white material and ruffles and beads was doing something to her head. She was suddenly terrified.

“OK.” Olivia stood up. “Where do we go?”

“This way,” the saleswoman said politely. “Your friends wait here and you’ll come out and model the dresses for them.”

“Ooooh!” Jenny burst out. “I can’t wait.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Liv said, trying to drum up some genuine enthusiasm.

She followed Nigel down a short hallway decked with flowers, the saleswoman behind them still dragging the dresses. Nigel ushered Liv in to a luxurious private changing room. The antique mirror was framed with gold, the carpet was thick under her sneakered feet. Nigel thanked the woman and then shut the door. He turned to Olivia.

“You sure, hon?” he said.

She stared at him, confused. “About what?”

“That you’re ready for this.” His dark eyes were serious. “This is a big deal, and I actually want you to enjoy the process. If you don’t feel ready, we can walk on out of here and go for a Champagne brunch, on me.”

Olivia laughed. “Oh, God, Nigel. I adore you.”

“I adore you too, Liv. Now… are you ready to have some fun?”

She sobered. “Can I tell you the truth?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m – I’m worried.”

Nigel sat down on a heavily-padded armchair. He squeaked a bit as he sank a few inches. “About what?”

She was having a hard time meeting his eyes. “All I see when I look in the mirror is my scars. But when I put on my wedding dress, all I want is to feel – beautiful.”

“You
are
, hon,” Nigel said gently.

“I know you think so, and the girls, and God knows Dallas does. But
I
don’t.” She brushed the tears from her eyes. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to really relax on my own wedding day.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Nigel gazed at her with compassion. “Look, let’s try on a few, just you and me, OK? We’ll see how you feel. If you want to show the girls, fine. If not, we’ll stay in here. And we can leave any time… just say the word.”

“OK.” Liv felt better right away. “That sounds good.”

“So,” Nigel said. “Let me haul my ass out of this chair and choose a dress. Yes?”

“Yes.”

With his practiced eye, he quickly sorted through the dresses, rejecting some outright, huffing as he did so, asking aloud just what the hell he’d been thinking when he selected them. A few he paused at, considered, and then slid to one end or the other of the rack. Olivia wasn’t sure which dresses had cleared the final hurdle of the Nigel Test, but she found herself unwinding a bit. She knew her former assistant would take care of her.

“This one!” Nigel spun to face her. “I think it’ll look gorgeous on you. Let’s see.”

She took it from him, her heart in her throat. It was cut low, and her whole body tightened up.

“Nigel,” she said. “It will show my scar… the big one.”

“Try,” he said. “It’s a stunning design, and the details are perfect for you. Just – just trust me, Liv, OK?”

“OK.”

Despite the fact that Nigel had spent years at her photo shoots and had seen every inch of her body, she went to the small cubicle and closed the door all the way. She yanked off her jeans and t-shirt, then tugged the wedding dress over her thighs, up over her hips. Liv kept her back to the mirror as she pulled the sleeves up and around her shoulders. She struggled with the zipper, but she managed. Glancing down, she saw that the dress was cut even lower than she’d thought.

Oh, Christ. No. That fucking scar will be all anyone can see… just an ugly purple line of tissue going down between my breasts. Goddammit, Nigel.

For a minute, she seriously considered just taking the dress off, not even looking at her reflection. But then she saw the beading along the bodice, the details along the waist. The dress had delicate gold thread spun through it, so it shimmered even in the artificial light of the changing room. She thought it would look amazing in sunlight, and that’s what made her turn to see it in the mirror.

Stunned, disbelieving, Olivia stared at herself. All she saw was the dress, and her slim figure in it. Her long auburn hair shone, set off by the pure white material. The beads in the bodice and along the waist pulled the eye to her shapely breasts, her curved hips. Her face was lit up with a soft golden glow, and when she met her own brown eyes, she saw something amazing. She saw happiness. She saw beauty. She saw a woman who loved and was deeply loved in return.

Holy God.

“How is it, doll?”

Slowly, she opened the door. Nigel was standing there, looking anxious, but when he saw her, his face changed completely.

“Olivia,” he breathed. “Oh, my God. Sweetheart.”

“I know,” she said. “I – I don’t believe it.” The tears were back. “All I see is – me.”

“The scar?”

“I know it’s there. I mean, I see it now. But I didn’t at first, not for the first minute.”

“This is it,” Nigel declared. “The Dress.” Olivia could hear the capital letters on the words as he spoke.

“Yes.” She stared at herself some more. “Yes, it is. You got it on the first try.”

“Let’s go show the girls,” Nigel said. “Then get out the credit card, doll. This is
yours
.”

**

“And she looks amazing,” Kat said to Jim. “I mean… stunning.”

“She’s a beautiful woman,” he said. “Even if she forgets that sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Kat was quiet for a few seconds. “You think she’ll be OK?”