“Yes, yes, I haven’t seen him much lately, though. I guess that has something to do with you.” She smiled. “He’s a great guy. Look after him, they don’t come around very often.”
“Looking after him is exactly what I’ve been doing since he got shot.”
“Fuck, of course.” She leaned forward. “How’s he doing? That was awful, but all for a good cause.”
I studied her. How did she know so much about my man? About what had happened when he’d got shot?
A tingle at the base of my neck. Hackles. I wasn’t impressed.
“How do you know Mitch again?” I asked.
“He’s a good friend of Andrew’s, my fiancé. I think they’ve known each other for years, so I see him about. At Rose Cottage when they’re having their secret meetings.” She made air quotes around the last two words.
“Secret meetings?” I frowned.
“Ah, I just leave them to it, for now at least. I have far too much on with this wedding business and getting my theses written.” She flipped her notebook shut and stood. “I’ve got to get to the florist, but it’s been really nice to meet you, Amy. I’ll see you at the wedding if not before.”
“The wedding. Yes, thank you for the invite. I hope the planning goes well.”
She waved to Becca who was paying for her drink and cake. “See you, honey.”
Becca waved.
Chelsea was about to step away but then turned back to me. “Oh, and it’s an autumn-themed wedding, so be inspired by autumn colors for your outfit. I’m asking everyone to do the same. The photos will be divine that way.”
“Yes. Of course.” I nodded and smiled.
Chelsea disappeared, and Becca sat down.
I leaned back and folded my arms. “Okay, start talking. What the hell is Galahad?”
“Ah, yes, Galahad.” She stirred her drink.
“Andrew wants every member of Galahad at the wedding, that’s what Chelsea just said. What and who are Galahad?”
“They’re a group, the twins, Mitch, Andrew, they’re all in it.”
A wave of nausea gripped my stomach. “Like a cult?”
“No. No, not like a cult.” She quickly set her hand over mine. “I promise, not like that.”
“So what like?”
She glanced left and right as though checking for eavesdroppers. “A vigilante group.”
My eyes widened. “A what?” I leaned forward. “I don’t understand. I mean…I knew there was something going on when he got shot and the women they helped. But an organized group?”
“Always good to be organized. And they are. Andrew is a professor of criminology, Dalton a doctor, the twins are marital art experts. Grant is a bank manager, a whiz with finances, Phil built like a brick shithouse, and Jamie…well, Jamie’s just really bloody rich.”
She must have seen the confusion on my face as she rattled off names. “Who are all of these people?”
“They are the ideal group of moralistic, skilled men to dole out justice when the justice system doesn’t. Mitch is another string to their bow.”
“Becca! But…?” My mind was whirring. I knew Mitch had things hehadto do but I’d had no idea it was so organized—a vigilante group that consisted of men with equally dark secrets. “How do you justify it in your head, Becca? Them going after criminals without due process? You’re a lawyer.”
“Which means I see assholes getting off when there’s not enough evidence to convict them, even though it’s clear they assaulted, or raped, or even murdered.”
Galahad. The word pinged around my brain. Galahad.
