The saliva in her mouth dried up. She clutched the back of the chair and angled to the side in case he gave her an opening to run for the door.
The doorbell rang.
Her head snapped up.
Eddie’s shoulders went down, and he sighed. Then he glanced at his watch. “One minute to go.”
Was he disappointed or just messing with her? She gulped in air, her legs trembling and barely holding her up.
A ruckus sounded and then the doors opened. Two men brought in Raider, who was bleeding from the mouth and had an ugly purple bruise on his temple. He’d changed into a dark green T-shirt and another pair of faded jeans, along with what looked like motorcycle boots.
Relief filled her so quickly she became dizzy.
He ignored Eddie and focused on her, his black eyes intense. “You okay?”
Gulping in air, she forced herself to speak. “Still all in one piece. Barely.” She released her death grip on the chair and tried to focus in case he made a move.
He shrugged off the two men she now recognized as Jonny P and Josh.
Eddie slipped his knife back into his pocket. “You search him?”
Jonny P nodded. “He’s clean. No weapons or wires.”
“Good.” Eddie motioned toward the chair next to the one Brigid had leaped out of. “Sit.”
Raider moved gracefully across the room, took her hand, and sat her down before taking the other seat. His touch seemed to calm her while somehow also ratcheting up her anxiety.
Eddie followed suit, removing a gun from the back of his waist and setting it on his thigh, while his enforcers shut the door and remained in place behind Eddie. “Where’s the journal?”
Raider sat back as if they were having a nice discussion about fall football and cheered for the same team. “You knew I couldn’t get to it in two hours. My men are fetching it now, and I’ll have what you need by tomorrow morning.”
Eddie’s dark eyebrows rose over his damaged nose. “I told you to bring it or I’ll cut her.”
Raider’s chin lowered. “Again, the box of evidence, much more than a journal, has been secured for decades. Do you really think I could just go open a safe-deposit box in downtown Boston?”
“Where is it?” Eddie asked softly.
Raider laughed out loud this time, the tone from the streets. “Give me a break, Coonan.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side to study Raider and then slowly, very slowly, lifted the gun to point it at Brigid. “Let’s try this again. Tell me where the information is being kept, and I won’t shoot your girlfriend in the head.”
“Fiancée,” Brigid said, her lungs compressing.
Eddie blinked.
Good. Maybe if he thought she was crazy, or that Raider was nuts, he’d give them a break.
Raider didn’t move. “You shoot her, and my men will send the information, all of it, to the HDD, the FBI, the CIA, and the news.”
“The news?” Eddie snapped.
Raider nodded. “Yeah. I like that Darla Perintino. She’s analytical and looks beneath the surface. And she likes dogs.”
What the heck was he talking about? Brigid’s back started to ache from the tenseness of her muscles. “I think that’s a good plan. How about we go find a nice place to stay in Marblehead and call Eddie in the morning once you have the journal?”
“I like that.” Raider kept her chilled hand in his as if knowing she needed some serious reassuring.
Eddie shook his head. “Not the way I do things. The fiancée has to get shot.”
