I was a set of scales, doing my part to strike a balance between both.
And then, of course, there was our credo as an organization. Along with statements of honor and loyalty to one another, there was a vow of protection. We didn’t harm the innocent. Which meant this girl was likely not so innocent, or King wouldn’t have authorized the hit. So what in the hell had she done?
I made my way into the attached bathroom, deciding to get showered and use Twiggy’s resources to dive deeper. I was staying, at the moment, with my cousin and her family, taking advantage of their guest house. I had just finished one freelance job and was in limbo until the next arrived. I had enjoyed my time here with Twiggy. Brilliant beyond her years, she was a fun person to be around, with a quirky sense of humor and a keenly honed wit.
She had called me a couple of months ago to help with a task outside of my typical range, a protection detail for one of her friends who was being stalked. Because it was Twiggy, I didn’t mind the low-level task. It gave me a little time to get to better know my cousin, who was a good decade younger than I was.
She was also a techno geek. King had used her talents on a number of jobs already, even though she was only nineteen years old. It bothered me that she was already being pulled into our world. I guessed it was naïve of me to hope she could be kept clear of it, with her skills and ties to the family. I wanted to keep her as free of the darkness that plagued me as I could, which meant keeping her close.
I could start with my assignment. I needed her skills to help me figure out why this woman was being targeted, and by whom.
Shower finished, I dressed and walked down the artistically paved pathway that led to the main house. It was a stunning piece of property, an old estate purchased in the seventies and refurbished into a lavish country manor. Twiggy’s father was King’s younger brother and another of my uncles. While he wasn’t close in proximity to King and his operations, he was an integral part of them. King had used his various companies for years to launder money.
Entering through the mudroom at the back of the house, I closed the door behind me and made my way to the kitchen. Twiggy always ate in here in on weekday mornings, choosing to hang out with the staff who was more like family.
Sure enough, as I drew closer, I heard her laughter and the cook’s lower, teasing tones. The smell of coffee assailed me as I entered the kitchen. “Hey, squirt.” I tipped my chin to the cook, a rotund older lady with wiry red hair just going to gray. “Madge.”
“G’mornin’, Master Brodie. Would you like coffee or tea this morning?” She hurried to set a mug in front of me as I took a seat beside Twiggy at a long, scarred wooden table.
“Tea, please.” I ruffled Twiggy’s black hair beneath that godawful beanie she wore endlessly, grinning when she jerked away and straightened the cap. “And how are you today, my love?” I poured on the brogue, although I was as American as anyone. I’d grown up around various levels of Irish-ness and spoke with the faintest of accents, but it was fun to tease Twiggy with it.
She rolled her eyes in my direction. “Pouring it on thick, aren’t you? You must want something.”
I covered my heart with my hand. “You wound me.”
She chewed, narrowing her eyes as she studied me. “No, I know you. What is it?”
I gave up. You couldn’t get anything past this girl. “I need your computer this morning. Or you can just search for me.” The likelihood of getting my hands on her computer was close to nil, but I figured I’d try.
“You’re hilarious. You know you’re not touching my equipment.”
“What equipment?” I leered at her nonexistent chest, shrinking back with a laugh when she punched at me.
“You’re such a guy. You don’t deserve my help.”
“But you’ll help me anyway, because you love and adore me. I need some background information on Emery Bishop.”
“Emery Bishop? Why does that name sound familiar…” Already zoning out as she did when she had a puzzle to solve, Twiggy climbed from her seat and left the kitchen.
Madge placed a plate in front of me and topped off the tea she’d poured earlier. I dug into the breakfast before me, knowing Twiggy would be back soon with her laptop. Madge always prepared a full Irish breakfast, complete with bacon and sausage, eggs, homemade soda bread, and potatoes. My uncle didn’t know it, but I was making plans to steal her away from him when I settled into my own place one day.
I was still eating when Twiggy returned minutes later. “Why the hell are you asking for information on Cotton?” she demanded, eyebrows drawn furiously together in the center of her forehead.
“Cotton?”
“Yeah, Cotton. Known by those who are not her friends as Emery Bishop. I haven’t heard anyone call her that in years.”
“Oh, shite.” I sat back in my chair, the wood creaking, and pushed the plate away. She wasn’t only a woman; apparently, she was an acquaintance of my cousin.
Twiggy eased back into her chair, placing her laptop before her. “What’s going on?” I hesitated and she poked me in the chest. “I won’t be doingshitefor you, Brodie Gallagher, until I know why you want information on her. Remember that girl who you helped protect a couple of months ago? Shiloh? Cotton is her best friend. She’s been away, on base in Texas.”
“Base?”
“She’s Army.”
Goddammit.If I told Twiggy the truth, there was every chance she’d go to Shiloh or Gunner with the information. It could feasibly get back to King, as well, and then Twiggy would be in trouble. I didn’t think he’d kill her, but he was notoriously unforgiving.
Thinking quickly, I lied. “I saw her in the donut shop last night. Asked her name.” Taking a sip of my coffee, I gave a credible shrug. “Thought she was kind of hot.”
