Page 30 of The Valiant Knight
“What?” Tony asked.
It was time to tell them about the outside rules that they were being forced to adhere to.
He’d spoken to Callen, and the man had told him not to rock the boat. It wasn’t worth it. If the local law wanted to stare at Tony moving remains, hand them a shovel and let them help out.
Period.
So, that was what he was going to do. He hoped his old friend wore work boots.
He was about to get dirty in the morning.
“The Detective Inspector of the Polis will be here while you’re handling the remains. The Scottish council in town insists that they oversee the bones since the FBI doesn’t have jurisdiction here.”
Tony lifted a brow.
What was this?
Was he kidding?
It wasn’t like he was going to damage the bones. He didn’t desecrate graves.
“I’m a Forensic Anthropologist, not a grave robber,” he said, adamantly. “I will treat them with the utmost respect. My ancestors were from Scotland. Even if I wasn’t Scottish, I wouldn’t ever do that to human remains!”
Gabby patted him on the back, trying to get him to calm down.
Tony took his jobVERYseriously.
Graham didn’t want to insult him.
“Don’t take offense, Doctor. Your ancestors being from here will go a long way during this process. The name alone tells us that. Please know that I’m not thrilled about this either. Only, they are wary of the new owners of the castle, and are trying to figure out who bought it.”
Uh-oh.
They knew Callen and Chris didn’t want that to happen.
“That’s sneaky,” Gabby admitted.
Yes, yes, it was.
“So if anyone asks, please say nothing. Callen has stated that he doesn’t want this getting out. This is their safe place.”
He didn’t tell them that Finn had already guessed who bought the castle. Why get everyone riled up?
Both Gabby and Tony got it.
“We won’t let it slip. We know how to keep things quiet,” Gabby said, as Bark Twain ran up to Graham, and started tugging on his pantleg with his teeth.
As she was getting ready to apologize profusely, Graham scooped him up and cuddled him.
“Well, aren’t you a ferocious fellow?” he asked. “All those tiny teeth and big dog energy in ten pounds of dog.”
Gabby laughed.
That was pretty much how Bark viewed himself, but in actuality, he was a chicken.
And she ratted him out.
“He’s afraid of fireworks, gunfire, recycling bins, the wind, rain, and sometimes, his dog dish. He once saw his reflection in a mirror, and lost his shit trying to defend my home against the infiltrator.”
