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It was Bella Fischer Felicity — what had she called it? — watched.
It’s a matter of life and death.
Whose life was in danger? Felicity’s … or Bella’s?
But the two women couldn’t stand each other. Why?
He couldn’t see Bella going on a rampage.
Felicity?
Given the right motivation … absolutely.
Another snippet of conversation surfaced.
“She reminds me of Raegan,” Bella had said months ago when pressed on why she disliked Felicity.
Raegan.
Beau’s ex-wife.
The one who’d simply vanished.
A flicker of excitement hit. “Okay … we’re getting somewhere.”
He added Raegan to the board.
That would explain Felicity “watching” Beau’s house.
But again — why?
What if Bella and Beau were the ones in danger?
What if the ex-wife was the danger?
Hell. His head hurt.
They were connected. He was certain of it.
He just needed a little more information. And the right kind of finesse to draw it out of Nate.
No one talked about the time Beau’s wife left him.
*
Several miles outside of town, Felicity eased the old sedan beneath a copse of trees and killed the lights. The engine went silent, leaving only the distant hush of night. She stepped out, closing the door with deliberate care.
It was Galina’s car. Fitted with fake plates. Her Bronco would’ve been too easy to spot. The beige sedan, on the other hand, disappeared into the landscape.
She opened the trunk and lifted out the drone, handling it with practiced ease. It had cost her a pretty penny, but the infrared camera was razor-sharp, the machine itself little more than a whisper in the air.
The best way to watch without being seen.
She powered it up, the faintest hum rising as the rotors spun. It lifted smoothly into the night, swallowed by darkness within seconds. Felicity stepped to the edge of the trees, tablet in hand, eyes fixed on the live feed as she guided it forward.
It tracked across the property, picking out smaller buildings and several paddocks once meant for livestock, though nothing moved now. The house came into view, low and squat, a single light burning on the side facing the river. Then the large shed. Ronan hadn’t mentioned the exhaust fans. And he would have if he’d installed them.
The vehicles caught her attention next, the drone’s angle giving her a glimpse beneath the cover. Two trucks and a minivan sat neatly parked beneath a carport adjacent to the house. Dark in color, different makes. None of them matched the one Voss drove. Alongside the trucks sat several quads, lined up with the same deliberate precision.
