“Wonderful,” Holden said. “But I do believe you have me at a disadvantage as you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
I doubted that was true since he’d been keeping tabs on the entire investigation, but we needed to play his game for a little bit until we could get what we came for. “I’m DCI Callum MacBain. This is DI Tara Fletcher.”
“May I see your badges?”
I held mine up for inspection but pulled it back when he reached to take it for a closer look. The leather holder was damp from the rain, but the plastic cover had protected the actual ID.
“We know about your big enterprise,” I said as I put the badge away. Holden began to pour scotch from the decanter, the amber liquid catching on the light. “Snatching up artefacts to sell to the highest bidder. We know that you’ve been watching Haruto Sato so you can snatch up his manuscript once he’s done restoring it. We know that you abducted Finn to blackmail his father into stealing the deed to the Castle of Old Wick. And we know that you’ve already got the Viking cache you were after. You don’t need Finn anymore. Hand him over.”
“My, you have been busy.” Holden slid two of the glasses across the desk to Fletcher and me, but I pushed it aside without looking at it. “Do you have the deed with you?”
“No. We don’t.” I wondered if we should have brought it along. It would have given us leverage, but if we gave it over, we’d be letting Holden profit off of the kidnapping, and the thought of that was absolutely abhorrent to me.
Holden took a sip of his drink. “A shame. Then I have no real reason to hand the boy over, do I? And Mr Sato is gainfully employed in my services now. I think I might keep him. He’ll be so useful to my operation.”
“We’ve got your estate surrounded. We’ll take them by force, if we have to,” I threatened.
But Holden laughed, tipping his head back and banging one fist against his desk. “There are seven of you. My force is three times that. You have no cards to play.”
My blood began to boil. Everything about this man got under my skin. He was so cock-sure of himself, as if he thought that he could slow time if he snapped his fingers. This was a man who had always gotten what he wanted and who’d never had to try very hard to get it, either. I could see it in the way he curled his fingers around the crystal glass and the way his eyes glittered so contemptuously in the light, as if Fletcher and I were just a play put on for his amusement.
I wondered if we could even touch him. He had the best lawyers wiping his ass, as proved by the powerful retainer he sent to represent O’Connell, and he’d been at this game long enough to know exactly how to cover his tracks in seven layers of deceit and legal-ese bullshit.
“I wouldn’t say no cards,” Fletcher piped up beside me. She lounged in her chair, but I could see the tension coiled beneath the calm facade. “You did just admit to kidnapping, after all.”
Holden slid his gaze to Fletcher and regarded her over the rim of his glass. “Did I?”
“You did,” Fletcher said in the same tone of voice you used to tell a child they’d spilt their milk. “You said, and I quote, ‘then I have no real reason to hand the boy over.’”
Holden’s expression turned sharp, like icicles dripping off a roof. “Alas, it’s your word against mine.”
“It’s not, actually.” Fletcher reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. The screen lit up on the open voice recording app. Smiling mirthlessly, she picked up her scotch glass and poured it onto the dirt of the potted plant by Holden’s desk.
Holden stared at her while I choked back a laugh, covering it up with a cough.
“So you give us Haruto and Finn, and maybe this recording finds its way into the trash.”
I cocked my head as I regarded Holden, searching his face for tics as he chewed over Fletcher’s proposition.
“And before you think of trying to take the phone by force, I set the file to save directly to the cloud,” Fletcher continued. “There’s just enough service out here to do so.”
She’d clearly seen that thought flit past his eyes just as I had, and I sat a little straighter in my seat, legs braced and ready to move at any second. But Holden laughed, and the violence in his eyes disappeared behind his pupils, hidden but still there.
“Clever,” he said. “I didn’t even see you take your phone out.”
Fletcher didn’t deign to tell him when she’d started recording.
“It would be pretty hard to wiggle out of that, even for your high-powered lawyers,” I said. “It’s time for you to give us what we want.”
But Holden just kept dodging the order, and each time he did, I felt my rage rise another notch, ever closer to spilling over. “How did you find me here? I’m merely borrowing this estate while I’m in the country.”
“Followed the stench,” I answered coldly.
“O’Connell told you,” Holden said. He shook his head. “Or was it that spineless eel, Rickerson?” When I didn’t answer, he shrugged as if it were of no consequence. “I suppose it’s about time to make good on my promise to him.”
I saw myself leap across the desk to wring Holden’s neck. I wanted to pound his casual indifference towards other people’s lives right out of him, but I dug my fingernails into the armrests of the chair instead, carving crescents into the black leather. I knew that I said saving Finn was our first priority, but after meeting Holden, I desperately wanted to bring him down.
The three of us stared at each other. The silence seemed to stretch on into infinity as if someone had taken a photograph of us and frozen us at that moment.
“Alright,” Holden said finally, and at first, I thought I’d misheard him.
I covered my surprise, not wanting him to know that he’d caught me off guard. There was something about this that I didn’t like. He’d given in too easily, and there was a glint in his eyes that I couldn’t quite read. I could smell a trap, but I couldn’t smell the how or the where.
Holden finished his scotch and pressed the button on his desk radio. “Bring the boy,” he said shortly and leaned back in his tall chair, steepling his fingers under his chin as he looked to us. “It will just be a minute.”
I pulled the half-eaten Curly-Wurly from my pocket and chewed on it while we waited, dropping the wrapper carelessly onto Holden’s desk, pleased when his eye twitched. A second later, the gesture felt petty and low, but I didn’t take it back. I wished Fletcher and I could have a word, talk about how we were getting out of there with Finn, but we couldn’t speak without Holden overhearing. I found it hard to believe that Holden would actually let us leave the island, but I hoped that was just paranoia born from watching too many movies with over the top villains.
I heard footsteps coming down the hall behind the unbarricaded door. They knocked, and Holden called for them to enter. Fletcher and I turned expectantly as the knob twisted, and the door creaked open. Three people stepped into the room. The first was Finn. He looked clean and well cared for but absolutely terrified, dark bags under his wide eyes, his hair in utter disarray. The hand on his shoulder belonged to a woman with blonde hair, wearing a blouse with tiny, stencilled birds on it. My heart jumped in my chest.
“Hi, Callum,” Lena Taggert said with a sheepish smile on her lips.
Twenty-Six
I stared at Lena while Fletcher cursed violently beside me. Rage came off Fletcher like waves on the shore, but I ignored her, caught on Lena’s face. She looked out of place on the island with her blue blouse and white trousers, her blonde curls unaffected by the rain. The man in a long coat and tweed cap stood just behind her. His smile had a cruel edge to it, and he edged closer to her back as if to claim her as his own. Lena’s hand was gentle on Finn’s shoulder, but she still held him in place across the floor from us.
Finn had no idea who Fletcher and I were. He probably thought we were two more of Holden’s lackeys, and he looked at us with fear in his eyes. He trembled in his coat, arms wrapped around himself like that grip was the only thing
holding him together.
“Finn, my name is Callum,” I said in a reassuring voice. “I’m an Inspector with the Inverness Police. I’m here to take you home. Okay?”
Finn nodded. It was a tiny gesture, barely noticeable.
“What the hell, Lena?” Fletcher snapped, unable to contain herself any longer. “You’re with them? We trusted you. You looked us in the face and told us you didn’t know where Finn was. You went to Ainslee’s house to comfort her while you knew exactly what had happened to her son! Who does that? Callum even asked you out, but I guess you had no trouble leading him along, huh?”
I sighed. You didn’t need to announce that to the room, Fletcher.
“You’ve been keeping tabs on us for these people, haven’t you?” Fletcher continued. She’d shot to her feet at some point, knocking the chair over, and Lena’s ex had his hand on the gun in his belt. “How do you sleep at night?”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even look at Lena.
Her ex smirked. No doubt he’d had a hand in all this.
“Let me explain,” Lena pleaded, but Holden cut her off.
“No need for that,” he said smoothly. “DI Fletcher, delete the recording, and we’ll give you the boy.
“Give us Finn, and then I’ll delete it,” she countered.
I glanced at Lena. Her eyes begged me to understand, and I found that I did. Her note still weighed heavy in my pocket, and it told me enough. Sometimes, people just got tangled up in bad shit and couldn’t figure a way out of it. I nodded to her, and relief flooded through her body, noticeable only to me. I flicked my gaze to her ex, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. If someone was going to shoot first, it would be him.
“Place your phone on the table,” Holden said. His expression had grown stony. “Ms Taggert will walk Finn over, I’ll watch you delete the video, then you take your people and go.”
“Do it, Fletcher,” I said quietly. We’d secure Finn first, and then we’d get Haruto. One thing at a time.
She grumbled something under her breath but placed the phone on the desk screen side up. Holden beckoned Lena forward with two crooked fingers, and she gently nudged Finn forward. I stood, stretching out a hand for him to take, but before I could, the picture window flew open, letting in a blast of cold air, and then a man with orange hair tumbled into the room with a shout, legs giving way as he hit the ground.
Lena pulled Finn back protectively as her ex went for his gun. A second later, the dresser barricading the door tipped over and hit the ground with an ear-splitting crash, spilling its contents across the floor. Five of Holden’s employees leapt through the opening. Two slipped on the round baubles scattered across the floor and brought a third down with them. Sarah, still bleeding, and another woman hung back, helping their comrades back to their feet.
I lunged at Lena’s ex, but he shoved his gun in my face, and I skidded to a halt, throwing my hands up. Behind him, Lena gasped, covering her mouth. “Don’t even think about it,” he snarled.
MacGowan staggered upright, panting and red-faced. “Holden!” he yelled. “Where’s my son?”
He rushed the desk, but Lena’s ex intercepted him, shoving past me to ram MacGowan with his shoulder, sending the smaller man flying across the room. MacGowan hit the wall and slid to the ground, dazed. The five goons at the door finally disentangled themselves and drew weapons, though Fletcher and I were standing too close to Holden for them to shoot. Four of them, minus Sarah and her injured shoulder, ran at us, hoping to get the upper hand through sheer numbers.
Fletcher and I picked up her fallen chair and threw it at them, taking a man with his hair in a ponytail out for the count. The tallest of the remaining three swung his fist at me, and I ducked, stepping inside his reach so I could drive my shoulder into his stomach. Even as the air rushed from his lungs, he brought his elbows down on my back. I grunted in pain and tried to pull back, but the man came with me, shoving me while I was between steps so that I lost my balance and slammed into the wall near where Lena stood.
I didn’t have time to spare her a glance. A curly-haired woman joined Tall Boy, and the two tried to squash me against the wall. I kicked his knee, heard a sickening crunch, and he collapsed with a scream. I grabbed Curly’s outstretched arm and spun her in a circle, releasing her, so she staggered back towards the centre of the room. She narrowly avoided colliding with the man Fletcher had just punched in the nose.
I ran forward, intending to jump over Tall Boy where he writhed on the floor, but he grabbed my foot while I was in the air and I crashed to the ground beside him. I kicked at his fingers until he let go with a pained cry, but as I rose, the man we’d hit with the chair wrapped his arm around my throat from behind, cutting off my air supply.
I clawed at his arm, but the wool of his jumper protected him, and a few black spots danced before my eyes. Fletcher noticed my predicament and shoved her opponent out of my way to rush to my aid, but a voice cut through the chaos before she could get two steps.
“Enough! Stop, or I shoot!”
Fletcher froze, shifting to the side as she turned around so I could see Lena’s ex with his gun to MacGowan’s head. The thief’s nose was bleeding, and there was a bruise blooming on his forehead just above his dazed eyes. He knelt in front of Lena’s ex, shoulders drooping as he cast his eyes around the room for Finn.
My chest grew tight, and I continued to pull at Ponytail’s arm, which hadn’t loosened its grip. Holden flicked his fingers lazily in our direction. “Release him, Harris.”
Harris dropped the chokehold but seized my bicep, squeezing painfully, his other hand pointing a gun at my gut. I rubbed at my throat and glared at him. One of the women pulled a pistol on Fletcher as well. She raised her hands in surrender.
Holden hadn’t moved during the encounter. He still sat in the tall-backed chair behind his desk, his hands resting on the leather armrests as if he’d simply been watching a boring film. He’d even refilled his scotch glass. He sipped at it now, pausing to appreciate its smoky flavour.
“Alec MacGowan, I presume?” he drawled in MacGowan’s direction. Lena’s ex pressed his gun into the back of MacGowan’s skull until the man flinched. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed. I don’t know how you managed to climb the wall outside. I’ll have to keep it in mind when I design my next estate.” Holden’s tone was bored, as if he wasn't holding three people at gunpoint.
“Where is my son?” MacGowan growled, but he didn’t dare move with the gun at his head.
“Is he really your son, though, is he?” Holden asked with a sneer at the edges of his lips. “I heard you abandoned him when he was two.”
MacGowan twitched, but his captor’s hand fell on his shoulder, stilling him. Holden smirked, pleased with himself. He snapped his fingers in Lena’s direction without bothering to look at her.
When Lena didn’t respond quickly enough for him, he glanced over, irritated. Lena stood by the open door, a sick expression on her face as she tugged nervously at her fingers. Finn was nowhere to be seen.
Holden’s face furrows, silver eyebrows diving towards his nose as his mouth contorted. “Where’s the boy?” he demanded in a dark, dangerous voice.
Lena swallowed and gathered herself and took a step forward before she answered. “Probably on a boat to the mainland by now.” Her voice shook slightly, but she tipped her chin up and glared at Holden.
I grinned as Holden’s mouth dropped open. Everyone in the room stared at her with various levels of surprise. I acted while during the distraction, seizing Harris’ wrist and jerking it away from my own gut and towards Holden. No one realized what I was doing until I got my finger on the trigger and squeezed.
The shot echoed through the room. My ears rang, and Harris’ fingers loosened, allowing me to pry the gun from him. For several seconds, everyone stared at everyone else, unable to tell who had been hit.
Lena’s ex spotted the blood first, blooming on Holden’s arm, and with a shout, he rushed to his
employer, abandoning MacGowan on the floor. Using the confusion, Fletcher snapped her hand up and stole the gun from the woman pointing it at her.
Lena’s ex flapped his hands around the wound, trying to make sure Holden wasn’t mortally wounded, though Holden himself didn’t seem able to figure out if he was alive or dead.
“Step back, Elias,” Lena ordered. She had a tiny pistol in her hand, but it trembled as she pointed it at the two men.
Reluctantly, Elias stepped back. The glare he gave Lena could curdle milk. Holden clutched his arm, blood coating his fingers, but he managed to keep his face calm, collected. “I don’t understand,” he said, though I could tell the admission hurt him.
I pulled a folded piece of paper from an inside pocket and tossed it onto his desk. “She slipped this in my pocket. I guess you can’t manipulate people as well as you think you can.”
Wincing, Holden leaned forward in his chair and grabbed the note, struggling to open it up one-handed. I’d read Lena’s letter when Fletcher had popped into the Sunset Charter bathroom before we set off in the boats. I’d been furious at first, though my anger mostly served to hide my embarrassment at being duped.
“When Elias first brought me into your organization, all the money and the gifts and the adventure of it all dazzled me,” Lena explained. She glanced at me apologetically, though she’d already said sorry about ten different times in her letter. “Who wouldn’t be? Who doesn’t want to get rich quick? I think I knew what we were doing was wrong, but Elias,” she glanced at her ex as she spoke, and he glowered back at her, “he kept telling me it was all okay, and I had no idea how to get out even if I wanted to, so I just… didn’t.”
Shame coloured her voice, and as I glanced over, I saw Fletcher’s expression begin to soften. That was good. I didn’t want her punching Lena when all this was said and done.
Lena shook her head, and the gun bobbed for a moment. I tensed, waiting for someone to take advantage of that, but no one moved. “But kidnapping Finn was too far. He’s seven years old. And you used my class to spy on him and snatch him. I’ve been feeling sick all week.” Tears shone in her eyes. “Callum, you were so kind and concerned, and…” She lost her words for a moment and quickly dashed her eyes clear. She jabbed her gun at Holden. “I hate lying. And I hate who I’ve become working with you, and I hate myself when I’m with you, Elias. I guess you could call this my letter of resignation.”
Buried Secrets (DCI MacBain Scottish Crimes Book 1) Page 20
