Same
11:01 a.m. Tadhg
Same
11:39 a.m. Tadhg
She’s leaving the property to shop in town. We’re following close behind.
3:11 p.m. Tadhg
She’s heading back to the cottage
A quick check of my watch shows it’s 5:38 p.m. Mouth tasting like the inside of a gin bottle, I drive back to the cottage, stopping first to check on Bren and Tadhg and clean up. Bren, who took an emergency medicine course, stitches up the wound on my shoulder.
The call from Cian, summoning us to family dinner at eight-thirty, comes as we’re finishing up.
I leave them with instructions to contact Eamon and find out all they can about Devin Franklin and his known associates, and to make sure he’s already left Ireland. Because if he hasn’t, when I find him, there’s a bullet with his name on it.
CHAPTER 27
CATRIONA
Iglance up from the chess table where I’ve been staring for the past quarter hour, going slightly insane. The game I’ve been half-ass playing with myself hasn’t been able to catch my attention.
It’s been hours since I’ve seen or heard from Aiden. I’m not worried. I shouldn’t give a damn what he does with his time. He certainly doesn’t need to check in with me even though he said he would. The only reason I keep looking out of the front window is because I’m waiting on my jailers to pull out behind me so I can kill time in town.
When my phone rings next to me, I nearly jump out of my seat. “Aiden?” I croak without looking at the screen.
“No, Catriona, this is Broussard. Leonardo Broussard.”
I nearly choke. “Mr. Broussard. I didn’t expect to hear from you. Sorry about that. How are you? Still recovering okay?”
After the shooting, I went back to the hospital several times to check in with him. He spent most of his recovery resting,as he should, and no amount of my apologies or impassioned arguments would deter him from the case. If anything, it only seemed to serve as further motivation.
“Yes, I am. Practically as good as new, thank you for asking. I was wondering if you’d have time to meet today. I’m afraid the news I have is rather urgent.”
“Today? No, I’m so sorry. I’m in Ireland on… business. Would it be possible to discuss over the phone?” There’s a long pause, where I wonder if we’ve been disconnected. “Mr. Broussard?”
“It’s not ideal, but I’ve come across something interesting in your mother’s records I thought may be relevant.”
I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Then I’d rather know sooner than later. What did you find?”
“Do you recall when we went over your mother’s calendar and finances that she’d been to see a lawyer?”
“Vaguely, yes. What would that have to do with her death? It wasn’t a routine meeting? She dealt with lawyers all the time.”
“No, I’m afraid. When I looked deeper into her emails, I found reference to a change in her will. Did she ever mention it?”
“Really?” My mind comes up blank. “No, she never said anything to me. Why would she do that?”
“I wish I knew. I’m going to reach out to the law office, but I wanted your approval first.”
“Of course. Whatever you have to do.”
Afterward, I don’t remember if I asked Broussard any clarifying questions. Which means I certainly don’t remember the answers.
The words echo in my head as Bren knocks on the door, with Tadhg in the car waiting out front. I load up with them, make conversation, but it’s as though someone else is in control of my brain, my body. It takes what feels like an eternity to drive from the cottage on the cliffs to the center of town. Bren and Tadhgspeak, but I barely hear any of it. My mind keeps replaying the conversation with Broussard.
