“I’m well,” she waves off my question. “Back to you and Alec. If I walk into the study, will he be sporting a matching bloody lip?”
“More like a black eye, but I assure you, my dear Caroline, there is nothing to worry about.”
“I’ve never seen you two fight,” she frets.
“That’s because we tend to avoid pummeling each other when you’re around,” I squeeze her hand. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she echoes, watching me leave with a worried frown.
***
Braw - Scottish slang for fancy
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In which Alastair multitasks.
Alastair…
“Where is Mrs. Taylor?”
“Upstairs, I believe,” Eileen says, “she had dinner about an hour ago. You have received several messages from the MacTavish family, they are growing increasingly more threatening with each one. Callum tells me that they’re aware you’ve returned to London and they’ve had surveillance on the penthouse all day. They’re not bothering to be subtle.”
“That’s why the guard has been doubled,” I say. “Are there any other concerns?”
“No, sir. Callum has a full security report on your desk.”
“Thank you, Eileen. That will be all,” I say, eyes on the report.
I’m sitting in my darkened office, one lamp on my desk offering a pool of light, and sorting through some documents couriered over from one of my legitimate enterprises. It’s late, I’d spent the rest of the day moving between our key warehouses and business interests, checking on any activity. The supply chain we’d disrupted for Zhang’s drug flow into Europe is keeping them busy. They’ll eventually find their two tankers - and their cargo - at the bottom of the Atlantic.
Their disappearing drug shipments will not occupy them for long. I must come up with a plan to destroy both triads, keep my best friend from shooting me, and deal with Sorcha’s family. Ah, and make certain that the good Senator Beagly is not trying to weasel out from under our agreement on the arms contract.
I’ll start with the arms contract…
Pulling up the list of the congressional members on the Military Appropriations Committee, I scroll through them all. I’ve done this before, of course. I have an extensive background check on each senator. Picking the man who has the most to lose and the lack of backbone to protect what is his is always the best candidate. I’ve lost patience, I’m going around Beagly. I dial the private number of the next candidate.
“Senator McCaffrey, it’s Alastair Taylor.”
He knows who I am. My name is all over the contracts they’ve been reviewing.
I can hear him speak softly to someone and then a door closes. “My wife is displeased that you’re interrupting dinner. However, she made her famous pot roast which quite honestly, is inedible. Thank you for saving me from attempting to chew it.”
He surprises me into a chuckle. McCaffrey always seemed the most staid and boring member of the committee, but I’ve recently discovered something quite useful about his background.
“Well, I’m pleased I could help. I want to discuss the arms contract that is currently languishing in committee.”
“I see,” he says cautiously.
“I know Senator Beagly is holding this contract up,” I say, clenching my hand in a fist so tight that I can hear my tendonscreak. “Given that this offer is more than favorable to the U.S. Military, I’d like to know why.”
“Speaking to you about the internal workings of the contract selection is against commission rules,” he says, “however, I fucking hate Beagly and if what I’ve heard about him is correct, I want to destroy him. Not just his career.Him.”
Smiling, I know I have the right man. “I suspect I know what you’ve heard and if we can work together, I’m more than pleased to give you proof.”
“I don’t want your money,” he says sharply. “I want him to pay for what he’s done.”
My grudging respect for him grows. “What is his game?”
