The reality of how fast time moves seizes me for a brief second, then lets go. “Careful. That side of the group is all about the old ways. Chances are he’s looking to get her hitched and eighteen is their preferred age to contract engagements.”
“Good luck to him. Even if I was in the market for a wife, I prefer grownups.” He sweeps a hand through his dark curls and blows out a breath of frustration. “But the snitch will be there. Just another layer of fun.”
‘The snitch’ is Micah’s term for his half-brother Gabriel. The boy fed a lot of information to the wrong people. Information that ended with Micah held on remand for four months, waiting for a trial on charges that took multiple large cash injections to fall apart.
“You know Stefan is very good at staging accidents.”
“Half the family already hate me; I don’t need to give the rest a genuine grievance.”
I slap my thighs. “This has been a great catchup and all…”
“Here.” Micah passes across surveillance photographs shot from a long-distance lens. “That’s your man, right?”
In a lot of the shots, it’s hard to tell. The angles are weird, the visuals obscured by the tilt of eaves, the overhang of ivy, and in one memorable picture, sheets hanging from a clothesline.
Then I see one with a clear view of his face and nod. “Yeah, that’s him.” I shuffle through the remaining shots, trying to get a handle on where I’ve seen the featured dwelling before.
“The place belongs to your newest houseguest,” Micah supplies when I near the end. “At least, her name’s on the month-to-month lease.”
The cramped bedsit. Of course. I page through the photos again, seeing them through fresh eyes.
“If you want someone unknown to pick him up, I can get a team down here in the time it takes my pilot to fly up to Auckland and back.”
“Thanks, but I’ll take it from here.” I close the folder and tap my fingers on the cover. Sergio is using Isabelle’s flat. What does it mean? I’d swear on my life that she’s telling the truth so why is he helping himself to her residence?
You’re swearing on your daughter’s life. Not yours.
The thought snaps my head back and I bare my teeth, almost growling.
“You should take a few hours and get some sleep.” Micah openly surveys me, shaking his head. “You look like shit.”
I rub a hand over my face, trying to smooth the rougher edges away like magic. Just like magic, it doesn’t work. “Thanks. Remind me to come to you for my next regular ego boost.”
“Let us pick up the slack. You’ll be better placed to understand our leads if you keep yourself in functioning order. We pay our men enough to do the grunt work.”
“Capturing one of the men who abducted my daughter isn’t grunt work,” I say in a low voice. “And I already slept today.”
Did I? Or was it yesterday that I closed my eyes while a young woman performed an ice routine that made me want her so much my teeth hurt? Who’s keeping track? Who cares?
“If you say so.” Micah knocks on the divider and the driver rolls it down. “Can you drop me at the Central Suites?”
“Fuck that for a joke. You can stay with me.”
“You certainly make that sound so inviting.”
I grin at him, shaking my head and after a second, he smiles back at me. “Nah, I’m good with my hotel. Saves me a half-hour’s drive out to the wop-wops and I don’t run the risk of being treated like family.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
He tips his head back, openly laughing. “It is when your family gets kidnapped.”
Strangely, I don’t share his sense of humour.
* * *
Meri interceptsme the moment I return home. “Can I talk with you?”
Her expression is one I know well. Her give-me-justice-or-give-me-death face.
