“Fucking hell,” the Head Enforcer said when he ran in and pulled up short at the sight of Maisie’s body.
“Rupert’s dead,” Aisling numbly said.
“Fuck! Where’s Tamsin?”
Aisling pointed toward the back door. “Scarpered. I called for her, but no answer. We need trackers and an exfil team. Call Trevor and get a helo inbound. Now.”
“On it.”
Aisling couldn’t move, frozen, while also fighting the urge to shove the goddamned medic out of the way because she knew Maisie was gone. There was too much blood.
Too, too much.
And the poor girl had already suffered enough. It was time to let her lie in peace.
Aisling closed her eyes, threw back her head, and let out an enraged, mournful howl.
Ten hours later, Aisling, with her clothes still soaked with Maisie and Rupert’s blood, sat at a table with four of Trevor’s Enforcers and the Head Enforcer. Trevor appeared on a tablet on video chat.
The man looked like Aisling felt—gut-punched, heartsick…
And full of murderous rage.
Aisling had helped put Maisie’s and Rupert’s bodies into body bags and onto gurneys that were then loaded into a plain black lorry driven by two grim-faced men. She’d directed the equally grim-faced cleaning crew on erasing all traces of the events. Then she’d personally supervised dismembering and burning the three attackers’ bodies in a fire pit in the backyard. They were still burning when she left. Two of Trevor’s men were stationed there to complete the task, break up any remaining bones, scoop what was left of the ashes, and then dispose of them in a river.
“Tamsin’s safe and uninjured,” Trevor said. He sounded ragged, hoarse. “She’s with me. I’ll personally move her to an undisclosed location outside of the country. How the fuck did they locate them?”
“We don’t know, sir,” Garrison said. “We found a piece of paper with the address on it in the car they drove. They didn’t have mobiles on them. I have people searching their residences now. They have orders to detain everyone and interrogate them until we get Primes on-site to question them.”
“Someone must have told Faegan,” Aisling said. “He didn’t meet with his sons, so someone must have passed word to him. Norton is the one who died at the safe house. What about Tamsin’s other brother, Alastair? Do we have him in custody yet?”
“Not yet,” one of the other Enforcers said. Aisling thought his name was Kenneth, but she wasn’t sure. “We tracked his car—good job placing the tracking device, by the way—but he parked it at a train station four hours ago. Still working out where he went from there, if he even got on a train, or if he met someone and left with them. Combing through CCTV footage now.”
“Why weren’t there more Enforcers at the safe house?” she asked Garrison. “Why the fucking hell was there only one Enforcer?”
The man looked haunted. Aisling didn’t feel a bit of sympathy for him over it because he deserved to carry the weight of this failure with him for the rest of his life.
“We received a tip that one of Faegan Lewis’ men was on the move nearby, and I ordered men at the safe house to intercept him. We were en route when you called.”
Aisling groaned. “Fer fuck’s sake, man, it was a diversion.” She slumped in her chair. “Fer starters, I shoulda been yer first call about that. Because I woulda told ye as much. I told ye I was followin’ his son an’ they were too close to the safe house fer my liking. Who knew about the safe house?”
“I vouch for all my people,” Garrison said.
“As do I,” Trevor added. “I had Primes vet all of them. They aren’t the source of the leak. At least, not deliberately or directly.”
Aisling scrubbed her face with her hands. “We need a Prime to interrogate every mate or spouse, children, friends—all of that. Make sure it’s not one of them who’s compromised. It could be something as simple as a phone hack, directly or indirectly, with a family finder kind of app loaded.”
“Bloody hell,” Kenneth muttered. “In that case, it could be any of our people who’ve been at the safe house since Tamsin and Maisie were moved there. Deliveries from shops, the post, maintenance—anything.”
“Is there any way it might have accidentally been Tamsin?” Aisling asked. “Through her mobile?”
“No,” Garrison said. “She doesn’t have one. She destroyed the one she had years ago when she married Maisie because she knew her father would try to track her. She uses one of Maisie’s burners and she doesn’t have any contact with family.”
“Social media?” Aisling asked. “Friends?”
“No friends from back then because she cut them all off, too,” Garrison said. “Not that she had many to start with. Too afraid of her father finding her. Nearly all of them were pack members. No social media for either of them, or Rupert.”
“Could it have been through Rupert?” Aisling said.
