Page 19 of Breaking the Code

“Iffn you want the easy way, ye’ll tell me what I wanna know.”

For almost twenty years, I’ve thought I was alone in the world. Maeve and my parents were in the Highlands coming to get me from school after picking up Maeve. It was just before Christmas break. We were traveling to my father’s parents in Sweden for the holiday.

Only Maeve and my parents never arrived. My parents and sister died in a car crash between her school and mine. Or so I thought. The car exploded on impact, and all three people inside perished. The investigation, iffn you could call it that, was closed with nae real investigating done.

There were three people in the car. It belonged to my parents. They and the car were seen at my sister’s school when they picked her up for the holiday. Case closed.

Authorities called my grandparents in Sweden, but there was nae answer. Coincidentally, they both died in a gas explosion at their home, and with no remaining family, they sent me to an orphanage.

Only I wasnae alone in the world—at least nae for long. I’d met Simon and fallen in love. But I never forgot my sister. She looked like our mum’s twin since birth. And if her looks wasnae enough to convince me, then the heart-shaped birthmark on the side o’ her neck certainly was.

I know Maeve is still out there and it’s not just because o’ the photo I saw in Graeme Buchanan’s bedchamber. Every so often, a photo would show up with new. She looked, iffn nae happy, then nae sad.

“I’m waiting,” I growl at him through clenched teeth.

“Massachusetts. Given her age, it’s the only place they would’ve taken there,” he says, still sucking in air as fast as he can.

“What for?” I ask, hoping I’m wrong.

“What do you think for?”

“Tell me,” I demand.

“They sold her to the highest bidder,” Rupert says.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. That’s above my pay grade,” he responds.

“Who does?”

“Owen Black, he’s the big boss, and some kid named Tavish. He knows everything.”

“Tavish what?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“What do you know about this Tavish?”

“He’s just a kid. Barely old enough to drink. That’s all I know,” he said.

I nod.

“Ye did verra good, Rupert. Ye earned yer reward,” I said.

“No, please…”

“Get in the car, Rupert. In the back,” I tell him.

“Please, don’t. Please,” he pleads.

I push him to the car. “Open the door, Rupert, and get in.”

“No! Please!” he begs.

“Easy is slowly giving way,” I tell him. I get nae wanting to die, but the whining is only making me wanna kill him slowly.

Rupert sobs, opening the door and getting into the car. My torso follows him inside. Grabbing his head, I twist his neck. The words cut off, falling silent as I snap Rupert’s thick neck. The pop sounds like a gun inside the confines o’ the vehicle.

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