Chapter 207
718 Words
Foxburg Falls, Oregon
Hunter Sullivan 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 dark 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 into 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. f**k, she’s smart.
It was their fourth 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 and 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 into 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. His Daddy had instilled a serious hatred of both visible minorities and women into his head from a young, young age, and Ferguson had lapped up the racism and misogyny like a cat laps up cream. He’d never seen an attractive black woman, never even thought that a black woman could be attractive, and Sadie Crawford was no exception to the rule, in his opinion. She had a pretty enough face, he supposed, but no way he’d be able to get it up for her.
“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. Like I need more of them in my town. f**k me.
- Writer
