Page 55 of Ireland

How will you run? Can’t wait for the fun.

Twinkle, twinkle—I’m not far.

Know exactly where you are.

Up above the world so high,

You’ll be in a gutter when you die.

Blood is red,

Your eyes are blue.

Will she cry real tears

when I eviscerate you?

The last had been found under the Bentayga's windshield wiper. The others had been left with the reception staff at various Cross Industries-owned businesses around the city and even with the lobby staff at the penthouse. All were delivered by couriers who had no knowledge of what they were delivering, and no fingerprints or genetic material was left behind to trace who the author was.

“The last arrived—what…two years ago?” he asked tensely, his fury a deep chill inside him.

“Just about,” Raúl confirmed, his dark eyes raking over the items on the coffee table.

“Could be he’s incarcerated,” Victor offered. “Or he self-destructed.”

“You’re sure it’s a man?” Gideon asked, studying the faces around him.

“More than likely, lad,” Angus said, the music of Scots threaded through his voice. “Removing the eyes. Disemboweling. The Glasgow smiles carved into the photos. All knife injuries. Not typically a woman’s choice of weapon, especially against a man of your size and strength.”

Nodding, Gideon straightened. “Since it’s been some time since the last contact, could we dial back security?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Chase interjected. “Why take the risk?”

He was the most recent addition to the team, having joined them several years before. He’d worked his way up to swing shift supervisor, and his relative youth brought a different energy to the team.

Gideon explained. “You’re all doing exactly what you should, but the heightened security is making Eva feel anxious, not secure.”

“Since when?” Victor asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. But it’s become an issue.”

“It’s a risk to lower our guard,” Chase repeated. “This guy’s smart. His language is educated. He may be waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to give him an opening.”

“I can talk to my daughter,” Victor offered. “Help her see the necessity of it.”

Gideon raked a hand through his hair. “We’ll be discussing it this evening. If I need reinforcement afterward, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, let’s find a way to keep her secure without making her feel like she’s constantly under threat.”

“But you are,” Raúl said frankly. “You have round-the-clock security because there are threats, even beyond this wacko.”

And that was the problem Gideon didn’t know how to fix. He’d made enemies. His father had made enemies. Plus, there were those who fixated on him and his wife for reasons ranging from infatuation to ransom. Being so prominently in the public eye made them targets. “I don’t know the solution,” he admitted grimly. “But we need one. Eva isn’t feeling safe, and that’s unacceptable. Can we make security a little less visible to her without compromising it?”

His phone line beeped on his desk, then his assistant Scott’s voice came through the speaker. “Ms. Vidal is here.”

Gideon turned his head to look at the reception area outside his office and saw his sister standing by Scott’s station. Pulling his pocket watch from his vest, he realized Ireland was right on time for their six o’clock meeting. He paused to admire the photo of his wife inside the case, then snapped it shut.

When Ireland had called to see if he could fit her in, he’d suggested they meet at the penthouse. But it was business, she said, and she didn’t want to bring that home with them. Since she also expected to work late, they’d agreed to meet after hours. He hadn’t anticipated spending so much time reviewing the damned notes. He’d somehow managed to put from his mind how deeply unsettling they were.

“We’ll work on it,” Angus said, standing. There was significantly more silver than red in his hair these days and more lines on his craggy face, but his biceps strained against his sleeves, and he still radiated vitality and strength.

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