Page 12 of The Valiant Knight
He still didn’t get it.
This was crazy.
They needed a cop to police the Feds who were doing this for the Blackhawks—who were also all Feds?
Really?
Did they have that much time on their hands?
What were they going to do?
Steal them?
“What do the people in the village think they will be doing with the remains? Making a bonfire and worshipping Satan?” he asked. “Because they have been pretty accommodating with everyone—even when people were being bitchy about Americans buying this place.”
He shrugged.
“Laddie, you’re preaching to the choir on this one. You know it’s bollocks, and I know it’s bollocks, but my boss doesn’t want them coming to the gate with pitchforks to get some old moldy bones back.”
That would be interesting to see.
To.
Be.
Honest.
“So, to avoid that, I’m on castle duty. The council is curious, and they want information—since this project has been kept hush-hush for so long. So they leaned on my boss, whopicked me to babysit. I think they know that I’m your friend, and that’s why I lost the coin toss. We can call it guilt by association.”
That was ridiculous.
So, a nosey bunch of hens were pissed because the Blackhawks were redoing a castle that was going to crumble from lack of love?
Really?
“Babysit? What exactly, or who exactly, are you going to babysit?” he asked. “They aren’t grave robbers. They bought the castle, and that means whatever is in it, no?” Graham asked.
Finn laughed.
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing or not,” he admitted as Graham slid a plate of scones toward him.
Immediately, Finn took one of the freshly baked scones and bit into it.
He’d missed breakfast this morning since he’d been summoned by his boss.
“You’ve got me,” Finn admitted. “All I know is I’m to oversee the removal of the remains from the grounds, and the interment inside the castle. Other than that, I’m in the dark like you are.”
He didn’t buy that.
The village council was a bunch of nosey people. He knew exactly what they wanted.
Information.
Well, they picked the wrong cop. Finn was his friend, and they didn’t rat each other out. They’d been friends since their school days, and they had a mutual respect for each other.
Graham ate some of his own scone, and thought this through.
“Now that we got through that bullshit, how about you tell me what this is really about?” he asked.
