by Doyle, S
The picture David showed her that night, of him and Garrett together, was gone.
“Where is your wife?”
He looked away, but not before something ugly moved over his face. “We’re going through a thing right now. She’s with friends. But we’ll work it out. We love each other.”
Yeah, Sinead wasn’t getting the love vibe. She was, however, getting the creep vibe.
Garrett Huntley was not a good man. That’s what he’d said.
Except she didn’t care about Garrett Huntley.
“Tell me about her.”
“What?”
Sinead had to grit her teeth together. Standing here with this scumbag meant she was wasting time. A lot of time. Time she knew was important. There had been a wedding. Between Garrett Huntley and the petite blonde. He had been at that wedding. The picture could have been doctored, but she didn’t think so. No, if he’d been at the wedding—and it was very clear he and Huntley weren’t actually buddies—then perhaps he’d been part of the bride’s party.
Where was he born? Carmel.
What was his first pet’s name? Rocco.
What is his mother’s maiden name? Gerard.
All things only someone who knew Huntley would have known. Or knew Huntley’s wife.
“Listen to me. I do not have time to dick around with you. Here is the deal. I find the guy who took your product and tell you where he is. What you do with him after that is your problem. My fee is twenty-five percent of whatever your take is.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Sinead held out her hands as two scales. “Seventy-five percent of something. One hundred percent of nothing. Your choice.”
“Twenty percent.”
Sinead’s jaw dropped. “Are you fucking negotiating with me right now? I am not playing. You want your guy, I’ll get him, but you’re going to do what I tell you and pay me what I tell you. Let’s just say I have people in my life who know how to collect on debt. Right now I need some details about your wife.”
Huntley’s lip twitched and Sinead got that feeling again. Like it wouldn’t be out of the question for this guy to make a fist and punch her.
Instead he said, “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”
She knew it now. Because she felt bitchy and mean and angry. But feeling all those things was a whole lot better than feeling powerless and destroyed and sad.
“Let’s keep it simple,” she said. “What’s your wife’s name?”
He sighed. “Mary.”
“Last name?” Sinead pushed.
“Gallagher. But I don’t get why any of this is important.”
Sinead watched as he ran his hand through his hair. His brow was damp with sweat. Yeah, this guy was in something up to his eyeballs. At least three weeks, Sinead thought. Three weeks at least since she’d been gone. Not with her husband. Not here at home. Gone. Along with all her clothes, makeup. Not even a body wash a woman might use. Sinead had to buy all of that when she started staying over.
Garrett Huntley was not a good man. I’ve corrected an injustice.
“You have no idea where she is right now, do you?”
He slumped. “We had a fight and… she left. No, I don’t really have any way of getting in touch with her right now. But I know her, and she’ll be back. She loves me.”
“As you keep saying. Where was she from? Around here?”
“No, I met her back on the east coast. We were lawyers, working for the same firm in DC.”
“Anything else you can tell me? Her favorite restaurant in DC? Maybe a coffee shop she always went to? Some detail about her.”
Garrett shrugged and looked away from her. “I don’t know why you care. This has nothing to do with Mary. Someone jacked my safe. This is a drug transaction. Clean and simple.”
Sinead didn’t say the word, but it popped up in her head in big bright shiny letters.
LIAR.
Finally Garrett threw his hands up in the air. “She was born in Ireland. Raised there until she came over to the States. Does that count?”
Lovely Irish name. Do you spell it correctly?
Yeah, Sinead thought. That counted.
“I find him. I get twenty-five percent.”
“Fine,” Garrett said. “Deal. Whatever. You seriously think you can find him?”
Sinead smiled. “I think I already know where he is.”
* * *
Garrett watched as Sinead got in her car. She was texting something to someone, then she started the car and drove off.
Garrett picked up his phone and called his father. Finally something going his way.
“The cop was here. The one who turned off the alarm.”
A pause. “Why?”
“I think… I think she might have had something going on with him. She seemed pretty upset when she found out there was no David Whitmore. Kept mumbling about her missing toothbrush. When a woman looks like that when she finds out what’s gone down…I bet he was fucking her. Now she says she can find him.”
“Do you believe her?”
“She’s pissed,” Garrett said. “A woman scorned and all that. Maybe if he told her something… something real about his life. She could be our only lead.”
“Find her. Follow her.”
“Done.”
“And Garrett, don’t fuck this up again.”
Garrett gritted his teeth. There were times he really hated his father. “Yes, Father.”
Chapter 12
Declan stared at the open monitor on his desk and read the letter he’d written to Sinead. Each word of it crafted to convey his apologies, trivialize what had happened between them, and make her angry enough to label him a douchebag and write him off forever.
He figured that happened at the lack of judgment line.
It had been four days since she’d read it. Four days since she’d tracked down their phony base of operations using the receipt he’d left for her.
It had given him a little thrill.
Tracking down the office space wasn’t exactly easy to do. She could not Google them. She had to be able and willing to work for it. Call around, ask questions. Make educated assumptions. She’d said she wanted to be a detective someday, and it appeared she would have been a good one. Until he’d walked in and ruined her life, that is.
The real thrill though had been knowing she cared enough to do it. Cared enough to get the answers to her questions.
Or to see him again.
“You’re brooding.”
Declan looked up. His actual office was a converted three-floor brownstone in Georgetown in Washington, DC. There was no plaque or sign that announced it as a business. In fact in the upscale residential street, most people probably assumed it was a single-family home. Although no one would know for certain, as they didn’t necessarily mingle with the neighbors. They just needed a safe, secure and discreet place to work and coordinate their assignments.
His was the top floor, Jillian the second floor, Flynn occupied the first floor. Their company location known only to a select few.
Jill was standing in his door with a mug of what he prayed to God was a strong tea, as he was running on fumes.
He hadn’t had much sleep in the last few days. Weeks really. He was a man who had slept alone for the bulk of his life, except those rare times he’d been in relationships. And even during those times he’d rarely stayed with the person after sex. Yet, he’d liked sleeping with Sinead. Liked the sounds she made. Liked the feel of her pressed up against him. He certainly liked waking up with her.
Jillian set the cup down.
“Thank you.”
She took the guest chair on the opposite side of the cherry wood desk, and he frowned. He wanted tea. Not company.
“Maybe you made a mistake,” she announced.
“I don’t make mistakes.”
“Oh spare me, please. Will you ever get over yourself?”
No one ever said working with an ex-lover was easy, but so
mehow he and Jill had managed a somewhat bizarre friendship. They couldn’t manage as a couple together, but they managed very well as business partners. Keeping each other’s egos in check.
“She got to you.” Jillian said that like it was news.
Yes. She got to him. Of that there was no question. She’d been the truest thing in his life. A woman with no artifice, no subterfuge, and he’d done nothing but lie to her.
“Your point?”
Jillian shrugged. “I’m just surprised you let it happen, that’s all. It’s not like you. Especially when you’re on an assignment.”
It had been such a silly thing. He’d had an option when he saw the cruiser coming down the street. It had been too late at that point to run, which meant he could take her out physically or try to talk his way out of it.
Maybe if it had been a male officer he would have done the former. Maybe because she’d been a woman he hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He’d opted to charm her, and immediately it had been clear she’d found him attractive. She’d served her purpose. He could have let it go at that. Instead he worked her even harder, forcing those shy smiles from her lips that for some reason had made him hard as fuck.
Why not? he’d thought. Get her number, take her on a date. See where it went from there.
All so fucking innocent.
Like her. He’d wanted to take a bath in that innocence. Coat his body with it so that maybe for five seconds he might feel clean again. There had been lies between them. But there had been no games between them. His feelings had been real, even if his words had been false.
His stories were his to share. And he’d shared them under this blanket of protectiveness he knew she would never be able to penetrate, which made it safe.
He told her of his mother. His life growing up. He worried how her father would react when she had to tell him what happened. Because she had told her stories to him. Given him that.
He didn’t have to worry if he was being played. He didn’t have to wonder if she was a spy, an enemy, a criminal.
She was Sinead O’Hara of the Mill Valley Police Department, and she was as real a person as any he could imagine.
He looked to Jillian. What had she been saying? Something about it not being like him. “People can change.”
“I think that’s what I’m saying,” Jillian continued. “Maybe you made a mistake. You did something you don’t normally do, which is let your guard down. I should know. You let her get to you, so maybe she means something to you.”
“Again, your point?”
“Go after her. Tell her you’re sorry. Tell her… a little bit about what we do and what really happened at the house that night. If she cares enough, she’ll understand and forgive you. If she doesn’t, she’ll knee you in the balls and move on with her life. Then you can move on with yours too. Because I’ve got to say that this—this moping thing. This is not sustainable.”
Declan sipped his tea.
Jillian took that as a clear sign he was done discussing it.
“You know how bad I want you to be happy, don’t you? Even though I think you’re a raging, arrogant asshole most days.”
He huffed. “Yes. And I wish you happiness as well Jill, except we both know your balls are probably too big for any average man to be able to make that happen.”
She laughed, taking the half-insult, half-compliment in stride. Jillian actually liked to be known as a woman with a very large set.
“Big jerk. But at least think about what I said. I watched you guys together when I was doing surveillance and I know you sure as hell never looked at me like you look at her.”
As she got up to leave Declan’s phone rang. He lifted it.
“Report.”
“Uh…we got a problem.”
Declan immediately sat up, which caught Jillian’s attention. She turned back into the office.
“You mean a bigger problem than the fact that you lost her?”
He’d had Flynn stay out on the west coast and tail her as a precaution. Just to make sure Sinead settled back into her normal everyday life. Something he’d expected her to do once she got the letter.
Dec was starting to think he couldn’t expect anything from her anymore. Because three days ago, a day after getting the letter, instead of going to back to her old life Flynn reported her leaving her place at five in the morning. Dec told him to follow her and Flynn quickly realized she was headed to the airport. The airport, where she’d managed to shake loose Flynn’s tail in the long-term parking lot.
Flynn was not an easy person to shake loose from. She must have picked up on the fact she was being followed.
Now Dec had no idea where she was. If she’d even gotten on a plane or not. Three days of having no idea where on earth she could be or what she might be doing. It had been driving him insane. The only option left for Dec was to have Flynn stay on Huntley and monitor his moves. Flynn calling meant something was happening.
“Hey, I told you. In my defense…she was pretty good. Slippery little thing with moves.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Declan snarled. “Is it Huntley? Is he moving?”
“Nothing obvious. Other than father and son seem to be spending a lot of time together at the house.”
“Then talk to me.”
“I got a call from security at the house. Mary buzzed someone through. I know you’re going to think this is crazy, but based on the description… I think it’s your girl.”
“Sinead,” Declan said so there could be no misinterpretation. “She’s with Mary at the farm? In the house. Right now?”
“Yep.”
Declan blinked. It wasn’t possible. “That’s not possible,” he said aloud as if by saying it, it must be true.
“I’m not sure you can say that when it’s actually happening.”
“Tell security, she doesn’t leave,” Declan commanded.
Flynn laughed. “Dude, she just got there. I don’t think she has any intention of going anywhere until you show up.”
Declan disconnected the call and looked up to see Jillian smiling.
“I am so fucking impressed right now.”
“This is not a happy event, Jill. She has no idea what’s she done. Mary is in jeopardy, now Sinead’s life is in danger too.”
“Then go save them both. Isn’t that what you love to do?”
“Fuck you, Jill.”
“Just keeping it real, brother. You’ll do what needs to be done. You always do.”
* * *
It took Declan nearly an hour to make his way out of the city into the rural sleepy town of Middleburg, Virginia. His grandfather’s farm, that he’d bought and rebuilt for Mary, was tucked amongst gentle rolling hills. It was a big and sprawling farm, but most importantly it was private. A privacy he’d reinforced with a wall that surrounded the entire property. There was security staff inside the house, and for good measure twenty-four-hour surveillance outside the house as well.
The only way Sinead would have been able to get past the security gate was if Mary let her in. Which begged the question why Mary was allowing strangers onto the farm when she knew how much trouble she was currently in with her ex.
Or more accurately, her ex father-in-law.
Beyond that, she was in a fragile emotional state. As much as Declan felt for Sinead and her situation, he could not allow her to upset Mary.
When he got to the gate, he pressed his thumb against the access panel. He drove up to the large sprawling red brick mansion and popped out of his black Mercedes SUV. He was only mildly aware of the sense of anticipation he was feeling on the prospect of seeing her again.
He needed to control that. Showing no emotion, or only the emotion he wanted to project, was the first lesson of his particular game. He’d failed with Sinead. He’d given her everything. He needed to take that back.
He walked through the unlocked door. “Mary!”
“We’re in here.” His sister’s voice was coming from the right. De
clan turned into the parlor and there she was.
Unruffled in jeans, a simple but pretty white blouse he didn’t remember, and a black leather coat that made her look a little dangerous. But it was the red fuck-me heels that drove him crazy. Because he knew she’d bought them just for this showdown.
Her hair was down around her shoulders, not tied back in a ponytail, and somehow that meant something to him. Like she wanted him to see her as confident rather than meek.
He’d never thought of Sinead as meek. She’d survived too much for that. The way she let him fuck her… no, there was nothing meek about that either. This woman, the one sitting in his sister’s parlor calmly drinking a cup of tea, showing no expression whatsoever on her face…. this was not the woman he’d left behind.
He thought her even hotter than the shy woman he’d met that first night.
Fuck him.
No, he thought. He wanted to fuck her instead.
Dec struggled for control. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, he hoped coolly.
Carefully, she set the tea cup down, and there it was. The slight rattle of the cup in the saucer that betrayed her casualness.
“But here I am,” she said.
“Dec, don’t be mad,” Mary said as she stood and walked over to him. “When she buzzed at the gate she told me she knew you and all this stuff about Garrett. I had to talk to her…”
“Mary. Stop talking. Sinead, would you please come with me.”
She shrugged. “Sure. But you shouldn’t tell your sister to stop talking. She has a say in this too. She’s a grown woman.”
Declan didn’t flinch at the word. Too many of his stories. He knew that, but he had still shared. With her. Because he’d wanted her to know about his mother, his sister. Him. He’d even told her about his grandfather’s farm in Virginia. Had he done that on purpose? Subconsciously, was this the result he wanted?
“Sinead. With me. Now.”
“I don’t remember you being this bossy.”
“You don’t remember me telling you how I liked my cock sucked, love?”
Mary gasped and Sinead blushed, which was exactly the reaction he wanted. He needed them both to know he was not fucking around. His sister’s life, and now Sinead’s life were in his hands to keep safe.
