He nuzzled her shoulder and pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck, kissing her there. Her heavy fall of hair had been pulled up into a ponytail, leaving her neck bare. He liked the little shudder that went through her body when he put his lips to her skin.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know any of these men. Having said that, it doesn’t mean that I’ve never run across them before. It just means that I can’t recall them.”
Jeff seemed restless. He stood up and moved around the room, hands in his pockets, but his gaze was on the knickknacks and artwork Evangeline had placed in the sitting room—as if it might all be stolen. Timur found himself resenting the cops, and the fact that they seemed to think they could show up at any time and interrupt their day.
“Are you looking for something in particular?”
Jeff turned his head, his gaze on Ashe. “I was just wondering how you do it. Your brother with Evangeline, and now you’ve got her.” He jerked his chin toward Ashe.
Timur instantly went on alert. Jeff might be the most annoying man in the world, but he was always respectful.
“Jeff,” Ray said, standing, as if that might deter his partner. “It’s not worth it.”
Jeff shook his head, holding up his hand to stop whatever Ray was about to say. “They’re good women. Both of them. You know that, don’t you?”
Timur pulled his hand free of Ashe’s skirt, the blanket and the warmth of her skin. “I’m very aware of that, yes.” He kept his gaze steady on Jeff.
“They could get killed living with you.”
For the first time, Timur allowed himself to look at Jeff as a human being, rather than an enemy out to get them. “We have protection in place,” he supplied quietly. “You know I carry a weapon, as does every man on my security force. The women come first at all times.”
“Even before your brother?” Jeff jerked his thumb toward Fyodor, his voice bitter.
“Evangeline and Ashe are always first,” Fyodor answered. “These men from that motel. Do you believe they are somehow a threat to our women?” There was a rumble of menace in his voice.
Timur sat up straighter. Did Jeff know the missing men were hit men?
“We found several other cameras in cafés and stores across the street from the motel with photographs of the men. Two were recognized as hit men. Interpol is sending what they have on them. We’re searching for them now, but they haven’t returned to the cars they rented. We did trace them to this man …” It was again Finn Moran who spoke. He passed a photograph to Timur. “Do you recognize him?”
It was Apostol Delov. Timur nodded slowly. “He’s known in our world as the messenger. Apostol Delov isn’t his real name. He isn’t the only one using that identity, but they’re all from the same family. They’re the trackers. They’re hired to hunt down a particular person and when they find them, they send for the hit team.”
“He’s renting a house just one block over from Evangeline’s home,” Jeff said.
“This is Evangeline’s home,” Fyodor said. “She’s my wife. She lives here with me and she’s protected.”
“He meant,” Ray said, glaring at his partner, “to say that he’s staying one block from the house your wife owns and where Ashe is living now. That’s an awful big coincidence.”
The stranger, Anton Lipin, stood up and wandered over to Jeff as if to calm him, or to show solidarity. He was a big man, his size dwarfing Jeff just a little. He leaned against the fireplace, running one hand along the mantel, giving the impression of a man very much at ease.
“Delov was identified as the man who originally rented the rooms and was there on at least two occasions with these other men,” Moran continued.
“Ashe,” Ray said, ignoring Timur’s instant scowl. “Do you know any of these men?”
Ashe had looked at the photographs when Timur had. “I’ve got a fairly good memory and I think this man was in the bakery a couple of times.” She pointed to the picture Fyodor was handing back to the uniformed policemen. “He didn’t cause any trouble. He just got coffee and a pastry. I didn’t see any of the others, at least that I can recall.”
The photographs through the café’s security cameras were grainy. Even if later it could be proved that one or more of the men had been in the bakery, she could always claim the pictures weren’t clear.
“Is there a reason a hit might be taken out on you?” Ray asked.
Ashe sank deeper into Timur’s body. She shook her head, one hand going defensively to her throat. “No. I mean, what could I have done to someone to make them pay to have me killed?” She looked at Timur as if he might have the answer.