“Ryan, I’ll say it loud and clear. Yours is the biggest. I’ve never seen it. Dinnae want to. But it’s the biggest.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” he says happily. “Sending ye the aerial scans of the castle now. I’ll run some video for the next few hours and start looking for the guard’s patterns and schedule.”
“Can ye dig back into the contractor’s records and see if you can find a blueprint? If he’s doing this much work, ye know he’s got that huge bastard all mapped out.” I’m already sending out textson my other phone to the Chieftain and the men who are covering Dubois’ multiple homes.
“On it. I know ye can get her back, ye might be the only one who can.” He hesitates. “I just hope this time, ye dinnae let her go, aye?”
“I’m never letting her go,” I promise myself. I promise him and the universe at large. “I’m not walking away.”
“Good lad!” Ryan says happily. “I’m hanging up and getting back to work. Say it for me one more time, aye?”
“For feck’s sake…” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yours is the biggest, ye gerbil-headed spunktrumpet.”
“Both of those things are true.” He hangs up laughing and I vow to beat the shite out of him.
Later. There’s work to be done.
That evening…
“We’re narrowing the search, Chieftain.”
I’m back in his office at MacTavish International and the man looks done in, like he hasn’t slept in a week. “Thank the Lord,” he sighs, “because I’ve got exactly shite on my side. No messages, no attempts at contact.”
“So no ransom demand, then?” I ask, watching fury, then grief pass through his eyes.
“No. Ye know that means he plans to keep her. Or kill her.”
“She’s too valuable to kill,” I say, leaning forward, forearms resting on my thighs. “Not much comfort, perhaps, but true.”
We’re sitting in the corner of his office, where there’s a large grouping of sleek chairs and couches around a massive coffee table made of ironwood and granite. The Chieftain has a drink, untouched, set in front of him on the table and I politely rejected his assistant’s offer to bring me one.
“We know how eager he was to meet her after approaching ye so many times for an introduction.” The memory of his expression in that image from the gala, avid, greedy, and borderline obsessed is seared in my brain.
The office door slams open and Mala, the Chieftain’s wife, hurries in. “Did you find her, Lucas?” She looks as exhausted as he does. “Do you really think you have a lead?”
The Chieftain rises, taking her hand and seating her next to him with a kiss and a whisper of comfort. The sight makes my heart twinge.
Cat was always so proud of her parent’s long and happy marriage. Mala is an American who met the Chieftain at the Ares Academy and they’ve been together ever since. Cat vowed she wouldn’tget married until she loved someone in the same way Cormac and Mala do.
“Mrs. MacTavish,” I nod politely, “I have a strong belief that Dubois is creating a lab in the Atlas Mountains castle for Catriona. We canna be sure she’s there yet. He was in Paris yesterday and his private jet filed flight plans for a trip to Brazil tomorrow. But that could be a distraction. I have three teams watching the most likely places he’d be.”
She nods, her eyes bright with tears.
“He wouldn’t hurt her, ma’am. It’s clear Dubois wants something from your daughter and given their mutual interest in poisons, it’s likely a project he’s needing her help with.”
“I’m going with ye,” the Chieftain says. “I know ye have an extraction team already set.”
It’s Mala who shakes her head. “You can’t, sweetheart. You know that French bastard is obsessively following our search for Catriona. If you leave, his spies will report back to him that it’s clear that we think we have found her. He could just move her again.”
“I have to be there,” he insists, “I canna sit by and just hope for the best. For feck’s sake, she’s my daughter!”
“And she’s mine, too.” She puts her hands on his cheeks. “You brought back Lucas here for areason. Let him do his work.”
I sigh deeply. “I swear to ye on my life that I will bring your daughter home or die trying. My team is ready. We’ll leave in an hour.”
The Chieftain runs his hands over his weary face. “The Dassault Falcon is our fastest jet, and small enough to fly in and out unnoticed. It’ll be fueled up and ready.”
“Grand,” I nod. “Send me the pilot’s contact information, please.”
