To Bedevil A Beauty (Southern Sanctuary - Book 5) Read Online Free PDF

All of them had been swept up in co-ordinated police raids just
after dawn that morning.  Raids he’d personally given the green light to
after three years of undercover work culminating in one of the largest recovery
efforts by the police of drugs, money and illegal weapons.  Not that the
fact of his involvement would ever be made public.   If all went to plan, then no one but his
superiors would ever know of his involvement in the operation.   The only thing left for him to complete on
this assignment was to die… well, not him personally, but the character he
played.   Sonny Jefferies , was scheduled to be killed in prison in two
days’ time.
    He’d
wondered at the time if one of these grimy assholes could be related to the
pale, tightly wound beauty in the grey suit?  No, he had refused to
believe that.   That only left one
possible option. The gang’s slimy, gambling addicted, money-laundering, snooty
lawyer, Robert Granger.  The woman had to be connected to him somehow…
sister maybe? 
    Then
the court bailiff was demanding attention, someone kicked him in the leg
reminding him to rise to his feet and the beauty was all but forgotten. 
He needed to be Sonny Jefferies, the case wouldn’t officially be over until
they hauled him out of his temporary holding cell in a body bag.
    Now,
over two years later, in Judge Malone’s kitchen, handing over a cup of steaming
watery hot cocoa. Ramsey suddenly recalled the one and only time he and some of
the Raider enforcers had been forced to visit Granger’s office to
collect some money he owed.   A memory
surged forward of a photo on Granger’s desk that had caught his eye.  For
one, it had been the only photo in the room depicting people and not race
horses.   Two, the woman in it wearing the
wedding dress had been laughing in to the camera, dark eyes sparkling, a tumble
of fly away glossy curls falling to her shoulders.   A number of pieces of a puzzle clicked
together abruptly.
    Shit,
Ramsey couldn’t believe his god-awful luck.   Two and a half years ago he’d been instrumental in imprisoning Judge
Beryl Malone’s husband. 

 
 
    Chapter
Three
     
    If
working undercover had taught Ramsey nothing else it was to be damn wary of
coincidences.  And above all else, Ramsey trusted his gut instinct. It had
kept him alive this long.  So what wasn’t adding up about this particular
coincidence?   God damn it, what were the
chances of him being assigned to this weird assed Southern Sanctuary gig, only
to run across Beryl Malone, a woman he’d had a momentary fleeting crush on a
couple of years ago?  A woman, whose husband, thanks primarily to him, had
been sent to jail - for nine years non-parole for colluding with criminals,
money laundering and fraud? 
    Seriously,
where was a calculator when you needed it?  He’d like to do the math on
the statistical improbability of him bumping into Beryl Malone… formerly Beryl
Granger, a fact he’d confirmed online this morning. 
    Absently
his eyes flicked to the counter on the radar gun as a car passed by.   Manning a speed trap was not the most
auspicious of duties.  Nor was it a particularly draining job, mentally.
Giving him plenty of time to do some heavy thinking. It was market day in
Reverie Valley and all the Haven Bay locals headed that way were all perfectly
aware of the speed trap, so there was little actual work for Ramsey to do,
other than sit in the comfort of his car and think.  Not just about the
intriguing Beryl Malone and the strong instant attraction he’d felt upon seeing
her… both times.   But about how peculiar
the Southern Sanctuary… and Haven Bay in particular, was.
    There
was no church in Haven Bay for one thing, or cemetery for that matter.  A
centuries old by-law meant locals were allowed to walk around with swords, and
many did.  He’d been told by Maureen in his first week how popular the
local fencing club was, with bouts and training scheduled every day.  But
to