Page 94 of Savage Obsession

“How do you know her, sweetheart?” Kris asks softly.

“Rosie rented a room in the house I ran, in Scotland. She was studying music at the university. She went missing one night. Ran away. We saw her on CCTV, catching a train to London. Her father was out of his mind with worry. He got one of Ethan’s associates, Jed O’Neill, to search for her. At first, he thought Ethan had kidnapped her, but?—”

“Why would he think that?” Kris demands.

“She disappeared from one of Ethan’s clubs. Obviously, he had nothing to do with it. He helped with the search, girls disappearing from his clubs is bad for business, but the trail went dead. There was one sighting, as far as I know. In America, New York, a biker group, but never proven. By the time Jed sent an investigator to look into it, she’d gone.”

“And Jed O’Neill is…?” This from Baz.

“Head of the Irish Mob. He’s married to Casey Savage.”

Kris is on his phone, scrolling. He nods. “Checks out. Based in Dublin but with extensive interests in New York.”

“I… I never knew anyone was looking for me,” Rosie whimpers. “I thought they’d forgotten.”

Janey shakes her head. “Your dad was out of his mind, desperate to find you. I expect he still is.”

Baz’s lip quirks. “Shall we find out?” He dials the number on the note. It rings three or four times before a male voice answers.

“Yes?”

“Mr Darke? Nathan Darke?”

“That’s right. Who is this?” The tone is sharp, impatient.

“My name is Baz Bartosz. I have someone with me who would very much like to speak to you.” He hands the phone to Rosie.

She takes it, her hands shaking. At first, she just stares at the device.

The disembodied, tinny voice can be heard at the other end. “Who is this? Hello? Hello?”

She lifts the phone to her ear and utters just one word.

“Daddy?”

CHAPTER 23

Baz

“Is she asleep?” Julia swings around to face me when I enter the cabin we’re sharing on board Firebird.

“Yes,” I reply, “like a baby. She’s in Janey’s old cabin, which is why we’re roughing it in the guest suite.”

She grins at me. “I’d hardly call it roughing it.” She strolls over to the king-sized bed and settles on the edge. “En suite jacuzzi, built-in sound system. Enough shag pile to drown in.”

I’ve become accustomed to the lifestyle over the years I’ve spent as Kris’s right-hand, but I glance around, seeing the luxury anew through her eyes. I help myself to a glass of iced water from the dispenser. “Want one?”

“No, thank you.”

“Lily’s up on deck, sunning herself. She was wondering where you are.”

“I’ll go up soon.” Julia tends to leave the sun-worshipping to others, the legacy of growing up in a cold climate, probably. “I hear we’re to have visitors.”

“Sounds like it. Nathan Darke will be on the first plane out of the UK. Kris is sending a car to the airport.”

“I’m glad we were able to help. That poor kid…”

I grunt my agreement. The flesh trade is an abomination, an atrocity. We may operate according to a distinctly fluid moral compass, but trafficking women for sex has never been one of the strings in our bow, which was part of the reason we were so willing to murder the Domingos. Freeing the dozen or so women imprisoned in their basement was part of the pay-off. Another unlooked-for benefit was the opportunity to rescue Gabriel Sawyer, who was able to return the favour and help me to locate Lily. One good turn, and all that.

---