It hadn’t gone well.
Chief Bates looked as if he wasn’t used to people disagreeing with his plans. Detective Roy stepped forward. “Of course not,” he said. “Your cover for the next month while we await Harry Malone’s trial will be as Detective Hollister’s wife. You’ll be living at Chase’s parents’ home in rural Missouri, about two hours from here.”
Her head, maybe feeling light because she’d lost a lot of hair or maybe because she was in an alternate universe, swiveled on her neck. She stared at Tuxedo Guy. “We’re going to be married,” she repeated. “Actually, we’re already married, if the wedding was August 15,” she said, rather stupidly she thought, the minute the words were out of her mouth.
“I guess that’s right,” he said.
“And we’re going to live with your parents?”
He shook his head. “They’re dead. The house is empty.”
She rubbed her forehead. “What’s my new name?” she asked.
Chief Bates stepped forward. “In these types of situations, it’s better if we can keep your first name the same. Less confusion for you. In the event of an emergency, you’ll react to it better. We’ll list your maiden name on the wedding certificate as Lorraine Smith. It’s common enough. Then, of course, you’ll be Lorraine Hollister for the duration of this assignment.”
“Somewhere in Missouri,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Chief Bates said.
She clutched her wedding dress tighter. “I swear to God, if I ever get a chance at Harry Malone, I’m going to kill him myself.”
* * *
THE BLOND HAIR had set him back because it was such a dramatic difference from the picture he’d studied on the way over to the hair salon. In the photo, her brown hair had hung past her shoulders, her face had been pale and her eyes had been dark with fatigue. It had likely been taken the morning that she’d first been interviewed by the Miami police after her ordeal with Harry Malone had ended.
Today, she looked amazing. The hair was sexy, her skin was clear and fresh and her blue eyes were gorgeous. She would make a pretty bride.
Once Chief Bates had determined the plan, they’d swung into action. The chief had left to intercept Lorraine Taylor. Chase had been dispatched home to pack a suitcase and then to the mall to get a tux. He had met Dawson back at the police station and they’d picked up Gavin Henderson, who’d been busy in his own right. He’d been sent home to get his daughter’s recently cleaned wedding dress. All of them, including the chief, had been at her wedding five weeks earlier.
Dawson had managed to pull him aside before they’d piled into the car. “I know why you offered up the house in Ravesville,” he’d said. “And I appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem,” Chase had replied, lying. He hated the idea.
“Newlyweds?” Dawson had needled. “You going to be okay with that?”
Dawson was well aware that Chase wasn’t interested in marriage. Even so, because he was besotted with his own bride, Dawson had a tendency to overencourage Chase to commit and ragged his tail when Chase easily dismissed the idea. It had gotten to the point that Chase had stopped telling him about his occasional dates because the man made too damn big a deal out of them.
That, of course, had led Dawson to worry that Chase was becoming a monk. “You’re not getting any younger,” he said. “You might want to catch one while you’re still in your prime.”
He sure as hell wasn’t going to admit to Dawson that his leg now ached as though he was ninety.
The next month was going to suck but he’d make the best of it. He was pretty confident Lorraine Taylor felt the same way. When she’d said Missouri, it had sounded an awful lot like misery. She hadn’t slammed the door when she’d gone to change into the wedding dress but she’d surely looked as if she wanted to.
But as much as he hated the idea, he had to admit, it wasn’t a terrible plan. No one would question his presence at the house. After all, he and his brothers had lived there for many years and it would be common knowledge in the small community that Brick had recently died. People there would be expecting somebody from the family to come back and take care of the property.
Now, courtesy of some just-in-time photography, Dawson was going to upload the wedding photos onto a couple social media sites, publicizing that he’d recently done best-man honors for Chase and his happy bride. That way if anyone bothered to search for Chase Hollister, the cover story would hold. Chief Bates had instructed that if anyone at the department happened across the photos and asked, Dawson was to hold tight to the cover story. Once the trial was over, Chase could tell people the truth.
It had the potential to be a win-win. He’d be there to watch over Lorraine. He’d also be able to get the house ready for sale, and the State of Missouri would preserve their witness in what was likely to be one of the biggest trials of the year.
He and Lorraine simply needed to act the part of happy newlyweds. He heard the door open and in a rustle of silk and lace, Lorraine stepped out into the hallway, wearing the wedding dress. She was blushing.
“I’m going to need some help with the zipper,” she said.
None of the men moved. Chase was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing.
Finally, Sandy got behind her and Chase heard the gentle rasp of a zipper. With every inch, Chase felt his mouth get drier. She was beautiful. Once the zipper was up, the dress hugged her curves and the cut showed a generous portion of her pretty breasts that, quite frankly, hadn’t been all that visible in the T-shirt that she had been wearing.
Dawson looked at him, his dark eyes wide with speculation. Chase ignored him.
“Let’s get this over with,” Chief Bates instructed. He bent down, opened the plastic sack at his feet and proved that he hadn’t wasted time while waiting for Lorraine’s plane to land. He pulled out two items. The first one was flowers. They were wrapped in clear plastic and Chase recognized them as the kind you could buy for fifteen bucks at the grocery store. The chief thrust them toward Lorraine.
She didn’t move, just stared at them.
“Hang on,” Sandy said. She opened a drawer, pulled out a pair of scissors and efficiently cut off the plastic wrap, then trimmed off the long stems. When she finished, it was a very presentable bouquet.
The second item in Chief Bates’s bag was a birthday cake. With pink and yellow balloons on it. “This was all they had,” he apologized.
Chase thought he caught the glimpse of a smile on Lorraine’s face.
“I can make it work,” Gavin said. “Chase and Lorraine, I need you to stand in front of this wall.”
Chase moved to where Gavin pointed. After a second of hesitation, Lorraine did the same. Up close, he realized that he was probably about eight inches taller than her, which gave him a truly excellent view down the front of her dress.
He felt his whole body get warm.
He jerked his head up and stared at Gavin, who had
