spot he stood in. Reva’s mocking laughter assaulted his ears. Growling, he stared harder at the images on the photo paper. Still nothing.
“You stupid, worthless leviathan. You can’t even—”
In the blink of an eye he went from glaring at the duchess, to glaring at…a very hairy man in obscenely tight jogging shorts. Grimacing, Harrison pivoted, wishing he possessed a bottle of acid to wash the sight from his eyes. Across from him stood the house from the photo. A sweet note of triumph sang through his veins.
He did it!
Cackling in glee, he raced across the street. He didn’t know what excited him more, being one step closer to world domination, or making the crazy bitch eat crow.
Max paced restlessly in Boone’s examining room, desperately trying to get his thoughts organized enough to figure out what their next plan of attack should be. He’d placed a call to Justin and apprised him of the situation. The young duke’s skepticism had been readily apparent, but at least he hadn’t hung up on Max. The good news was he’d gotten through to Justin enough to gain the duke’s promise to get on the horn with the royal army and find out what the hell they knew about the situation. It’d taken some doing, but he’d also convinced Justin to dispatch some troops to Tybee.
His cell phone buzzed, and he glanced at the caller ID. It wasn’t a number he recognized. He clicked the Talk button. “Hello?”
“Sheriff Maxwell Truitt?”
“Yes.” From the corner of his eye, he noticed Willa staring at him. Guessing that she was hopeful it was Aurele, he shook his head. Her shoulders slumped.
“This is General Lessway. The Duke of Atlanta informed me there’s a problem gathering in your jurisdiction.”
Max grunted. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“It’s been brought to my attention that sometime early this morning, Reva Bellemuir escaped her cell and massacred twenty of my men. You have my full support and cooperation with anything you require.”
By great force of will, Max kept from grinding his teeth. “That’s coming twenty-two years too late, wouldn’t you say? None of this would be happening if Reva Bellemuir had been brought to trial.”
“You think I don’t agree with you? Damn it, Sheriff, you more than anyone should understand my frustration with the leash these royals keep me on.”
“A leash that’s no doubt lined with plenty of cold hard cash.”
The general chose not to comment upon Max’s assessment, instead giving his word that he planned to leave Florida ASAP and meet his troops in Tybee. Hanging up, Max eyed Willa and Boone. “Well, the good news is reinforcements are on their way, for whatever help they’ll be.” He tried not to focus on the dead soldiers Reva had apparently taken out. Probably better not to tell Willa about that. She already had enough stress on her plate.
“M-maybe we should drive back to Atlanta and pick up Aurele.”
He took one look at Willa’s pale face and knew she didn’t stand a prayer of relaxing until she verified with her own eyes that the older woman was safe. Nodding, he glanced at Boone. “Any chance we can borrow your Land Rover?”
“I’ll do you better than that—I’ll drive.”
He exchanged a long look with Boone. “You’re placing yourself in the middle of something that could get you killed. Not sure I like that idea.”
“Look at it this way. If I go out in a blaze of glory, my old man will be so damn proud, he’ll probably piss himself.”
Boone’s father had been sheriff of parish nine for thirty plus years before Max took over. The stories about him were legendary. There wasn’t a bad guy Quaid Forrester wasn’t prepared to put the hurt on, and he had the scars to prove it. “What is it with you damn seals? You’ve all got death wishes.”
“Yep.” Grinning, Boone patted his pocket. “But we’ve also got the keys to the car.”
Max knew well enough when he was defeated. “Fine. But I get to drive, damn it.”
Three and a half hours later he pulled into Aurele’s driveway for the second time that day. He’d never racked this much road mileage in such a short period of time. It was starting to wear on him. Which might account for why he didn’t immediately notice that Aurele’s sedan wasn’t in the drive. “Doesn’t look like she’s home.”
“It’s all right,” Willa piped from the backseat. “I’ve got a key.” She was out of the vehicle and halfway up the porch steps before he even opened his