“All the rest of the communication was over text.”
Ian sat back and tossed a glance at his dad. I wanted to turn around and see what Brian was doing, what his expression might say to me, but I could already feel the hostility coming off of Ian. I sensed that he didn’t like me being here. I’d overheard a brief exchange between him and Brian when he first came into the house. And I couldn’t really blame him. I gave birth to Brian’s daughter while he was still married to the woman Ian considered his mother. I didn’t think I’d be happy with me if I were in his position either.
“There’s a text where they ask you about your flight to Boston and another where they ask how you like your rooms. Did you ever spot someone watching you?”
I hadn’t thought about the implication in those texts.
“No.”
“It seems to me that they’ve been watching you. They knew you were in New York with Pops the night of Rachel’s accident.”
“I was so focused on Brianna that I didn’t notice that.”
Ian glanced at Brian. “Did you see anything unusual?”
He was quiet a moment. Then he said, “No.”
“They’re watching you, but neither of you noticed anything?” Ian was clearly frustrated. “Have you met anyone new? Anyone who quickly insinuated themselves into your life?”
“Just Brian and you boys.”
Ian’s mouth tightened. “You’ve not met with anyone else since being in Boston?”
“A couple of old friends from when I lived here before. But that’s all, really. Them and some of the people from work.”
“Could be someone who works at MCorp.” Again Ian looked at his dad. “Are there any recent hires besides Cassidy?”
“We’re always hiring and firing people. But you’ll have to talk to human resources about it.”
“What about on your floor?”
I glanced back at Brian. His expression was unreadable.
“Only Cassidy.”
“What about in the weeks before her?”
“No, not that I’m aware of.”
Ian studied his father, then focused on me, his blue eyes like ice, making me shiver.
“There has to be some connection we’re not seeing.” He continued to study me for a long moment. “Who knew about your relationship with my dad?”
I shook my head. “No one. Just people we both knew here. Jack. Mickey. Collin.”
“Mickey? You knew Mickey?”
Surprise lit up his eyes, but not in a good way.
“He came by your dad’s room a couple of times when I was there.”
Ian shot a look at Brian, then stood.
“I’m going to check a few things out,” he said. “I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Thanks, son,” Brian said, crossing the room with his hand held out. Ian avoided the gesture, not bothering with any sort of goodbye. I could see by the look on Brian’s face that he was saddened by Ian’s actions.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
“Nothing’s your fault.” Brian settled on the couch beside me, leaning forward on his knees. “I’m the one who ran around on their mother.”
“You were separated.”
“I wear that fact like it’s some sort of shield. But the truth is, I was a married man. I made a commitment to my wife and our children. But I was young and I thought I could do anything I wanted without facing consequences. Yet, I’m facing those consequences now, just a little belatedly.”
I touched his shoulder and I could feel the tension vibrating there. But then he sat back and pulled me into his arms. I cuddled up against him, resting my cheek on his chest. It might have been wrong once upon a time and there might be consequences now, but this felt damn good.
“We’ll find her.”
“Do you think we’re being watched?”
“It’s possible. It’s also possible that the kidnappers got their information from other means. The pilots file flight plans. The hotel has a computer system that’s vulnerable to hacking. And your rooms…you might have mentioned something inadvertently. Or they made an educated guess.”
I nodded against his chest.
“We’ll take care of this.”
“I know.” I sighed. “I should have told you the moment I arrived in town. I just…I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”
“I gave you no reason to think you could.”
There was such sadness in his words that I couldn’t ignore it. I climbed up onto his lap and lifted his chin, forcing him to look at me.
“I was acting like an idiot. I know you, Brian. I’ve always known you. And I knew from the moment I found out about Abigail and Killian and the baby that you would go back to her because that’s the man you are. You live up to your responsibilities, and that’s part of what I loved about you from the moment we met.” I caressed his face, forcing him to look at me when he tried to turn away. “I was hurt and angry for too many years, but that was on me, not you. I should have trusted you.”
He buried his fingers in my hair and tugged me down to him. We kissed for a long moment, a slow, gentle kiss.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said softly. “Even when things were good with Abigail, I never forgot about you. If it was possible to be with two women at once…”
“Do you think Abigail would have been open to a whole ‘sister wives’ sort of arrangement? I could have stayed home and taken care of the housework while she went out and saved Boston’s lost children.”
Brian smiled. “She might have liked that. She was always complaining about how much laundry there was to do and how little time she had to do it. Even the maid she grudgingly allowed me to hire couldn’t get enough done or done to her liking.”
“A maid. That must have been nice.”
“Didn’t your husband hire you one?”
I laughed. “Sam was from the generation that believed a good wife should be able to do it all and still have a hot meal on the table every night.”
“A little Neanderthal-ish?”
“Exactly.”
“Would you have married him if it hadn’t been for Brianna?”
I ran my hand slowly over his jaw, tracing the line of his jaw with the tip of my finger as I thought about my answer.
“Probably not. I couldn’t go home and tell my parents I was pregnant and without a husband. And Sam was so thrilled to have me back that he never asked me any questions that might have led to the truth.”
“I can understand that. If you’d come to me at any point in the last twenty-some odd years, I would have welcomed you back without a single question.”
“You did.”
“I did.” He buried his fingers in my hair and tugged me closer to him. “And it’s all worth it.”
“Even your boys’ anger?”
“Even that.”
He kissed me again with more heat this time. His hands slid under the back of my shirt, sending shivers of pleasure up and down the length of my spine. My shirt ended up on the floor after just a moment, his mouth on my throat. He couldn’t seem to get enough of me, and I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything, except maybe my daughter. But Brianna was part of him, the best parts.
“I love you,” he whispered against my ear.
How much I loved hearing those words. How it made my heart swell. How it made me almost grateful to the kidnappers for bringing us back together. Almost.
He was just undoing the back of my bra, his mouth pressed against the top mound of my breast, when his phone rudely interrupted. I groaned, and not a good groan. Brian bit my neck lightly.
“Sorry, I need to get it.”
“I know.”
He shifted, digging the phone out of his pocket.
“Kevin,” he said, somewhat breathlessly. I watched his face as he listened to whatever his son had to say. I was anxious, wondering what he’d found at Brianna’s condo. I’d gone there after I got the initial phone call, but there was nothing to fin
d. Brianna was a neat freak. Where she got it, I will never know, but there was never anything out of place in her home. And that’s exactly how the condo was when I stopped by—nothing out of place.
Brian disconnected the call and set the phone on the couch beside us.
“He didn’t find anything, but he’s going to stick around and wait for possible instructions from Ian.”
“Okay.”
He could hear the disappointment in my voice. He ran his hand over the side of my face.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, baby. Just because there’s nothing at her house—”
“I know. It’s just, part of me was hoping he would see something I hadn’t.”
“We’ll find her.”
He kissed me, and I was just warming to his touch when his phone interrupted again. He ignored it at first, but it began to ring again just a few seconds after the first call ended. It was his turn to groan in frustration.
“I kind of miss the days when there were no cell phones.”
He picked up the phone and answered it without speaking. He listened for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at me.
“I’m sorry to do this to you,” he said, lifting me off his lap the moment his call ended. “I have to go.”
“Now?”
“It’s Jack. There’s a problem I need to take care of.”
I curled up into the corner of the couch and watched him stand, straighten his clothes, and slide his phone back into his pocket. He was so handsome, my redheaded Irishman. He looked back at me, and I wanted to pull him back down into my arms, trap him here, and refuse to let him go. Why couldn’t we live in a bubble of our own making and forget about the world outside these four walls?
“I love you, you know,” I said.
He leaned down and kissed me lightly. “I know.”
He walked away, giving off an air of confidence, an air of invincibility that made me swell with pride. Nothing could hurt a man like that. And nothing could hurt me as long as he loved me.
Long after I heard the front door slam, I grabbed my shirt off the floor and headed for the stairs. A hot shower, a fine meal, and a good book all seemed to be in order tonight. And when he got home, maybe we could finish what we’d started.
I almost laughed at myself at that last thought. I’d been divorced for nearly thirteen years, and there’d been nothing all that time. But now…I joked how he couldn’t get enough, but maybe it was I, maybe I was the one who was making up for lost time.
Or maybe it was just Brian.
I stood under the pounding spray of the shower, thinking about his hands on my body. We’d made love here a few mornings ago, standing against this wall. I wasn’t a young woman any more, my body not nearly as limber as it once was. But it was amazing what you could do when you were inspired. And now I couldn’t look at the tile without thinking about his soapy hands touching me in places that rarely saw the light, without remembering how good that particular orgasm had been.
What a dirty girl I’d become. Wouldn’t my mother just roll in her grave if she could see me now?
My skin was red and warm when I stepped out, wrapping a towel around my naked body. I was running a comb through my hair when my own phone buzzed. Brian gave my phone to Ian in order for him to track the kidnappers, but he’d given me a new phone. No one but he knew the number. I picked it up, expecting it to be him, letting me know he was on his way home. I have to admit my tummy tightened like a teenager hearing from her crush, but then my heart fell to my toes when I saw the message.
You broke the rules. Now your girl will pay.
The world went dark for a moment. Then another message.
Join your friend at Brianna’s condo. Maybe the two of you can put all the pieces back together in the right order.
I couldn’t catch my breath. Or maybe I’d simply forgotten to breathe. Whichever, I couldn’t move for a long moment. And then I was running.
Chapter 20
Brian
“Another of my men is missing,” Jack had barked into my ear. “You’d better find this one before he’s hanging from a goddamned rope!”
I was standing outside the warehouse where we’d left the trucks filled with illegal guns weeks ago, watching as Killian worked the lock. Conor McCloud was last seen here, checking another shipment that’d been delivered last night. Jack called him twice to find out how it’d gone and was pissed when he didn’t answer. And then worried that someone was targeting his men.
Jack’s men weren’t the only ones running the streets of Boston at the moment. There was another group across town that was very particular about their territory. Jack’s men had had multiple run-ins with them over the last year. This thing, whatever it was that was going on, he didn’t like. He was concerned that the other group was beginning to hone in on his business.
I knew that wasn’t it. Jack probably did, too. But when you’re the head of the Irish mafia in Boston—a mafia you became the leader of because you led a rebellion against the last leader—you become a little paranoid.
“Fix it,” he’d demanded.
When the door opened, I slipped my gun from the holster in my armpit. It was a nine millimeter, a reliable pistol that’d saved my life on more than one occasion. Killian pulled a gun, too, a Beretta that wasn’t unlike my own. I led the way, moving cautiously, looking around corners before turning them. It was a big warehouse, but it was largely empty at the moment. There were very few places to hide.
“Nothing,” I said.
Killian moved up behind me, towering over me as he, too, looked around. Then he gestured at some footprints visible in some dirt on the floor.
Someone had been here recently.
We followed them to the stairs at the back of the massive room, climbing to the office that once overlooked a working warehouse. It was mostly empty now, just a low wooden desk left in one corner. I pushed open the door and it appeared empty. But then there was a low scrapping sound that made me slip my finger onto the trigger of my gun.
“Who’s there? You’d better come out!”
The scraping sound came again and a low mumble, like someone trying to speak through a gag. I gestured to Killian. He carefully moved around the desk, his gun drawn. Then he dropped to his knees, coming up a second later with Conor McCloud, his hands tied behind his back with cable ties and his mouth covered with what looked like duct tape.
“What the hell?”
Killian shook his head in disapproval as he ripped the tape from the boy’s mouth.
“Shit!” Conor cried after he spit out a piece of cloth. “That fucking hurt!”
“Yeah, well, you’re going to hurt even worse if you don’t explain yourself quickly!”
Conor looked at me, respect suddenly washing over his expression as he recognized me. “Sorry, Mr. Callahan,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize.”
“Start talking.”
He stared down at the floor for a second, clearly embarrassed.
“I was checking the warehouse like Johnny told me to. I was about to leave and someone hit me from behind. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in here under that desk.”
“Did you see who hit you?”
“No, sir.”
Killian caught my eye and nodded. He’d seen dried blood on the back of the kid’s head.
I turned and looked down at the warehouse, trying to see something that would tell me who’d been in here.
“The place was locked when you arrived?”
“As always.”
“Did you lock it behind you when you came inside?”
The kid didn’t answer and that told me what I wanted to know. Someone was watching the place, saw him come inside, and followed. But who? And why?
“It was locked when we got here.”
“Whoever it was must have locked up behind himself.”
“Why?”
Again, silence. I turned and studied the boy. He was a typical kid, dressed in
skin-tight jeans that made his legs look like sticks—really unattractive if you asked me. And his t-shirt was an advertisement for a soda brand that was no longer sold. There was a tear on his shoulder and a touch of something that looked like dried blood. I went to him, touched the spot. Not blood. Bright red paint.
“Was this here when you came into the warehouse?”
The kid twisted his neck to look at what I was indicating.
“No, sir. This shirt is vintage. I take really good care of it. I can’t believe he tore it!”
“Get him out of here,” I said to Killian.
“Thank you, sir. I’ve been here forever. I don’t think I’ve eaten in days.”
“How long?” I asked, as Killian was about to shove him out the door.
The kid turned to regard me. “I can’t be sure how long, but I now it was Tuesday night when I came here.”
“Tuesday.”
I shook my head. He’d been here almost forty-eight hours.
I walked around the office after they left, looking for any more of the red paint. There wasn’t any, so I headed down the stairs, walking slowly around the perimeter of the warehouse, looking at the floor with something different in mind this time. I wasn’t looking for danger, but for some indication of why Conor’s attacker would have paint on his hands. Was he just some kid painting graffiti on the side of the building? Or was there something more nefarious about the whole thing?
It took a moment, but then I saw it. Little drips of red paint on the floor. It led to a small room at the back of the warehouse that was once bathrooms for the employees. Inside the women’s bathroom the toilets and sinks had been removed. But the mirrors were still there. Reflected in them was a message that was written in blood-red paint across the back wall.
Say goodbye to what’s precious to you, Brian Callahan.
It didn’t get any more personal than that.
“Cassidy.”
I turned just in time to walk straight into Killian’s chest.
“Who is this, Pops?” he asked, anger dripping from his tone. “Who’s doing this?”
“I don’t know. But I’m guessing they’re going after the women in my life. Why else put this in the women’s bathroom?”
COLE (Dragon Security Book 1) Page 42
