“So look at her fuckin’ call log,” Sal snapped.
“I promised her I wouldn’t do that.”
All three men looked at me with different expressions. Sal’s mouth hung open, as if he were shocked I’d made his sister such a promise. Mac shook his head at me. He thought I was being a pussy in regard to my relationship, or lack thereof, with Caity. And Duncan had a shit-eating grin on his face.
He knew I was a pussy when it came to Caity. The same as he was with Freyja.
“Fine, put the fuckin’ cameras in the house.” His eyes narrowed, and he pointed at me. “Not in her bedroom or bathroom,” he ordered.
“I’m not a fuckin’ voyeur.”
Sal snorted as if he didn’t believe me, and if I was being honest, without a direct order, I likely would have put one in both. At least one over her bed so I could watch her sleep. One over her shower couldn’t hurt either.
“I need her out of the house for a few hours. She never fuckin’ leaves.”
Sal looked over at Duncan. “Have Freyja invite her out somewhere.”
“If Freyja finds out I manipulated her to get Caity out of the house so he can spy on her, do you know what the fuck she’ll do to me?”
“Cast a spell?” Mac asked with a smirk.
Duncan flipped him off and said, “That would be the least of my worries.”
“Then don’t let her find out,” Sal said. “Just get it done and done fast. I want to know what my sister is caught up in.”
Another week passed before Freyja finally convinced Caity to leave the house. As soon as she left, I got in and went through the rooms looking for the best places to hide the cameras.
Caity was cunning like Sal, but she didn’t trust easily. She got that from her father. I wasn’t certain Eamon ever trusted anyone. If Caity found out about the cameras I’d installed, it would ruin any hope I had of getting her to open up to me.
I walked down the hall and paused by Eamon’s office. As far as I knew, it hadn’t been opened since his death. We’d tried to get Sal to go through it, but Tyran was always in his ear about the dead staying dead.
Now I couldn’t help but wonder what Tyran didn’t want us to know. I looked at my watch; I had a little more time, so I picked the lock and swung the door open.
What I saw was a surprise.
I had been in this office a few times when Eamon was alive, and it was never in order. The desk was always littered with empty whiskey bottles. A cigar always sat on the corner of the desk, lit, threatening to take the whole place down if the smallest breeze rolled it from the ashtray onto the paper-covered surface.
But today, every surface was clean. There were no papers strewn across the desk. No dirty ashtrays scattered around. In fact, there wasn’t a single speck of dust. I ran a finger along the edge of the desk, expecting twenty-years of dust, but it was clean when I lifted it to my face.
Walking over to the file cabinet, I pulled open one of the drawers. There were no papers sticking out of the folders, and a cursory look through the files showed they were all in order.
Closing the drawer, I looked around the room.
Caity had been in here.
She must have found a key when she was cleaning out the house. How long had she been looking around in here? Suddenly, I remembered her dinner with Brian Buchannon a few weeks back.
I’d gotten a frantic call from Maddie and left. When I questioned Caity the following day, she had begun acting differently. Almost guilty. I’d paid a hefty sum to get a look at the restaurant cameras, but she’d positioned herself to where I could barely see them.
But I’d noticed when Brian left, he’d had a folder with him. I couldn’t remember if he’d had it when he went in, but now I was guessing he didn’t. Caity had found something and gone to him.
What else had she found?
And who was she giving that information to?
I quickly added four more cameras, one in every corner, then locked the door and pulled it shut. I pulled out my phone and quickly clicked through each camera. The screen was small, but I could see enough in a pinch.
My computers at the office and at home would be better for watching and listening.
