“What the fuck is going on?”
A man with dark hair stepped into the alley. It only took a moment for Alexei to realize this was Jennifer’s man. He could be in more trouble.
“Stef, everything is fine.” Jennifer tried to step forward.
“You stay right there, Jennifer.” The sheriff shouted the order.
Jennifer and Callie stepped back at his tone.
Alexei allowed Logan to pull his hands down, and he felt the cold metal snap around his wrists. He was in custody, his plans blown, his future in severe peril, but he hadn’t felt so light in years.
Alexei turned to the two women he’d blown his revenge to save.
He shook his head at the thought. In saving them, he’d finally saved himself.
“Thank you,” he said as the sheriff took his arm and began to lead him away.
“I could make him defective really fucking fast,” Stef said, looking at the Russian through the bars of his cell. The urge to make the asshole really fucking defective was riding him. His heart had been racing from the moment he’d realized Nate had left the building.
Rachel had been the one to tell him what was going on. He’d been caught up in his discussion with the doctor. He’d never been as afraid as he’d been when he heard that shot go off. He was going to start carrying a rifle with him wherever he went so he would always be prepared.
Hope, a sweet-looking, dark-haired woman, looked at Stef, her eyes going wide.
“Sorry,” Stef said. Hope came from a really religious family.
Though she was only twenty-five, she somehow seemed younger than her years.
She smiled shyly. “It’s okay. I’m getting used to it. The sheriff curses all the time.”
Nate looked up from his paperwork. “I certainly do not curse all the time. And I don’t think that’s what he meant, Stef. I think he’s under the false impression that the US is still on the lookout for defectors. Laura was right. Smart woman. She caught the other guy’s tattoos when he came into the Stop’n’ Shop. It’s apparently code for these guys or something. I don’t know. I dealt with South Americans and homegrown assholes. The European mobster might be too much for my poor, backwoods sheriff brain.” Nate was far too calm. It was making Stef crazy.
Of course, Jennifer standing there and talking to the same man who had kidnapped her and worked for the man who planned to kill anyone in his way made him even crazier.
Stef had to turn away. He stared out the window where the snow was falling in thick waves, blanketing everything in a fine powder.
At least it was over. He forced himself to sit down.
“Look, I’ve already put in a call to the feds. They can’t get here until tomorrow night because of the snowstorm headed our way. If he is who he says he is, he could be important,” Nate said all too sensibly.
Stef couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He’s a man who almost got your wife killed.”
After giving her brief statement, Zane had collected Callie and insisted she go home to rest. Nate had held her for a long time before allowing Zane to scoop her up and take her home. Stef hadn’t even had a chance to hug Jennifer. She’d been a little bee, buzzing around everywhere. She’d sat with Logan while he took her statement. She’d held Callie’s hand while she’d given hers. Now, she sat talking to the same fucking mobster who had gotten her into the situation in the first place. She’d briefly smiled at Stef and told him she was okay before rushing off to find someone else to comfort or thank.
“Callie is going to be fine. She’s strong. So is Jennifer. You’re the one I’m worried about. I thought you would be relieved this was over.”
“Is it? We don’t have the painting in hand, yet.” Nate’s eyes rolled. “Well, it couldn’t possibly be as easy as walking in and getting it. I blame Rachel. Apparently she preferred the blue painting. Nell said Holly sold the green painting, but she wasn’t sure who had bought it. Holly told her she was thrilled because it brought in enough money that it didn’t make sense to put it in the auction. Someone paid five hundred for the damn thing.” Stef winced. He didn’t agree with Jennifer’s insistence on giving away her work. It was worth much more than five hundred. “And Holly doesn’t remember who gave her five hundred dollars?”
“Holly left to pick up her kid. He’s coming into town. She wanted to get him before his dad changed his mind. You know how she is about that kid.”
Holly would drop everything for her teenage son. From what Stef understood, her ex-husband kept them apart as much as he could.
“Did someone check the receipts?”
Nate stared at him as though he’d grown a second head.
“Right.” Like anyone in Bliss was terribly concerned about receipts.
“Nell gave me the book. Whoever bought it paid cash and can’t write to save his or her life. I tried to make out the signature, but I apparently don’t read that language. Don’t worry about it, Stef. I’ll put out the word. We’ll find it.”
Nate sounded certain, but Stef wouldn’t be satisfied until that painting was out of their hair.
And then it would be over, and he would have to deal with the fact that he was going to lose her. Stef nodded to Nate and forced himself to sit down in one of the chairs in the waiting area.
Though he’d been the one to set in motion the plan that would separate them, Stef didn’t like to think about how fast it was all happening. He’d thought he had a bit of time with her. The wheels of the court system tended to grind slowly. He was certain he could get the charges against her dropped, but it would take time.
If what the Russian said was true, Finn Taylor could get the charges against her dropped by tomorrow morning.
“I did what you asked of me, Stefan. Are you sure about this?” His father sank down into the chair beside his. He watched as Jennifer laughed at something the criminal who had nearly killed her said.
“You seem very taken with her. I might not understand your relationship with her, but I can see plainly you care for her.” Stef felt like he always felt around his father, slightly restless. It was as though the minute he occupied the same space as the man, Stef’s skin became too tight. He shifted in his chair, wishing he could avoid all of this, but he needed his father’s help on several fronts.
They had talked about his plans early this morning before Stef had left. His father, apparently, worked fast. “I love her, Dad. I want what’s best for her.”
Just saying the words made him wish he could take them back, but he’d been compelled to spit them out. No one understood. Everyone thought he was being an ass when all he wanted was to do right by her. It was all he ever wanted.
“If you love her, why are you trying to send her away? I made the calls you asked me to. They’ll take her mid-semester. They’re counting her work with Renard as life experience. But, I don’t think she wants to go to Paris.”
Stef turned, and Jennifer was passing the man named Alexei Markov a glass of water. Every artist wanted to study at the Sorbonne.
Jennifer couldn’t be any different. She would be surrounded by art and culture, and he would see that she lived in style. She could study and live a bit, and then if she decided to come back to him, he could believe her.
Why couldn’t anyone see that he was sacrificing his happiness for her?
“She’ll love it once she gets there,” Stef insisted.
His father’s eyes tightened in suspicion. “Are you planning on drugging her, son? Because I think that’s what it’s going to take to get her on a plane to Europe.”
She would go. He would see to it. She would certainly see reason.
She couldn’t grow as an artist here. She couldn’t see the world.