This can’t be good news. “Go ahead, Hughes.”
“Two of our trucks were en route, taking shipments to Leeds. They were both hijacked. We found the drivers, dead in their truck cabs. Both trucks were cleaned out and dumped about eight hundred meters off the road.” He’s a smart man, not specifying what the shipments are without being sure the line is secure. “Whoever it was, wanted us to find them.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, I ask, “How were they killed?”
“Throats slit, sir.”
“I’ll be there in an hour,” I say. Hanging up, I turn to Callum, who’s reading through the text reports from Manchester, grim and furious. “I’m guessing you already have the helicopter fueled up and on the roof?” I ask him. As we’re heading to the lift, I can already hear the faint ‘Thump! Thump!’ of the blades beginning to turn.
“Of course,” he grins at me before sobering a bit. “Should I leave word with Eileen to keep your wife apprised of your whereabouts?”
Frowning at him, I snap, “Why? We are married. Nothing else has changed. She will be waiting for me at home until I have time to see her.”
Callum is courageous and honorable, anticipates my requests before I make them, and he’s an efficient, brutal fighter. That is why he’s my Second. That does not stop me from wanting to break his nose on occasion. This is one of those times, because I can see it’s taking every shred of his self-control to keep from laughing at me.
“Double the guard at the penthouse,” I say, “she is not to leave for any reason.”
“As you wish.”
“And contact my housekeeper at the Manchester house and make sure she has a fresh suit laid out for me.” His slightly smug grin is beginning to grate on me.
“Callum?”
“Yes, Boss?”
“Three words. Sheep farm inspections.”
Groaning, my second pushes the button in the lift for the roof, where my helicopter is waiting. “Got it, Boss.”
Chapter Nineteen
In which Alastair shows off his new wife. Also: dolphins.
Sorcha…
“Well, there’s the weddin’ of any girl’s dreams.”
I stare in the mirror as I pull on some leggings and a sweatshirt. It’s been two days since Alastair dragged me out of bed and into holy matrimony and then disappeared. Eileen told me he had, “Business elsewhere,” as if that meant anything.
I’m from a crime family, for feck’s sake. I know the signs of things turning sideways. The guards have doubled around the penthouse and there are low, concerned conversations between Eileen and the guards when my back is turned. I hate feeling like I’m drifting on the periphery, invisible and useless.
Dancing until everything else disappears seems like a good idea. I’m barely through my warmups when a familiar voice speaks behind me.
“We have an event tonight.”
Spinning around, I put a hand to my chest. “Why must ya’ always creep up on me? Normal human beings make noise, ya’ know.”
Alastair doesn’t smile. He’s wrapped in another expensive suit but it doesn’t hide his exhaustion.
“You dinna seem like you’re in the mood for a party,” I say. “You look right knackered.”
“I’ll be fine,” he cuts me off. “There’s a dress on your bed-”
“Ah, just like my wedding night,” I smile at him. Well, it’s more like a baring of teeth. “Such a happy memory.”
“I’ve been busy,” he rubs his eyes, not even stirred up in the slightest by my cheek. He must be very tired or extremely distracted right now. Or both.
“Have there been more attacks, then?” I don’t know why I’m asking. Why would I care?
