I stayed in the garden, pulling up the number for the council offices in Ripon. I'd deal with them while Presley was upstairs. Money talked, and I had plenty of it.
The phone rang twice before a bored voice answered. "Ripon Council Animal Services."
"This is Fritz Bauer. I'm calling about a cat scheduled for euthanasia today. Orange tabby. Belonged to a Mr. Jacob."
"I'm sorry, sir, but that animal is scheduledfor—"
"I'm aware. I'm calling to claim him."
"The animal has been deemed aggressive and unsuitable for—"
"I don't care." I kept my voice pleasant, but firm. "I'm claiming him. I'll pay whatever fees are required, plus a donation to your shelter. Let's say ten thousand pounds?"
Silence on the other end.
"Ten thousand pounds," the voice repeated.
"For the cat and the donation. The cat comes home with me today. Are we clear?"
"I'll... I'll need to speak with my supervisor."
"You do that. But if that cat is harmed in any way before I arrive, the donation disappears and you'll be hearing from my lawyers. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
I hung up.
Twenty minutes later, the back door opened, and Hastings appeared, his suit jacket already off, his tie loosened. Etienne was right behind him, wearing gray sweatpants and a white tee-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower.
"We're using the helicopter to get a cat," Hastings said flatly.
"A cat," I confirmed.
"This is ridiculous."
"This is important to her."
Hastings' jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Fine. We'll get the cat."
"There's more." I looked at both of them. "Maeve. Presley's friend. She's bonded to someone who hurt her. Irish mafia. A man called Callaghan. She's been hiding in caravan parks and cheap hotels, trying to scrape together enough money to have the bond severed. And Presley was going to pay for it. Every penny from the surrogate arrangement. She was going to give it all to Maeve."
Etienne went very still. "All of it?"
"One hundred thousand pounds."
Hastings didn't even blink. "We'll pay for it."
"Henry—"
"We'll pay for it," he repeated, his voice firm. "For Presley. If this woman matters to her, she matters to us."
Etienne nodded. "Agreed."
"There's a problem," I said. "We don't know where she is. Not exactly. My sources tell me she's been seen in Bridlington, but she must be using a false name wherever she's staying. I assume she’s terrified of being tracked."
"Because Callaghan is looking for her," Etienne said quietly.
"Yes."
