Page 12 of Destroy Me
Lyse knew that. Why else would she have a camera on it? Rather than argue about good intentions, she fast-forwarded to the part he needed to see.
At least this time the curse words weren’t directed at her. Would Fionn laugh if she told him that every time he saidfeck, she heardfrackand wondered if he’d watchedBattlestar Galacticatoo? Her left hand moved instinctively to the side, near the area of her desk that had held her sci-fi bobbleheads back when she’d been at Global First, but all that greeted her fingers was empty air.
Get on with it, Lyse.
A couple of clicks and she’d isolated the man standing under the trees at the side of Siobhan’s yard. “This guy appeared two nights ago.” The section enlarged, allowing Fionn a close-up, grainy view of the shadowed face. “I was able to do some cleanup on the image and came up with this.”
A slightly sharper image of the man appeared on the screen.
“Who is he?” Fionn growled. The hint of fear in his voice knotted her stomach. He was afraid for his mother.
He should be. Lyse was. Nothing else could’ve induced her to risk revealing her position.
“A foot soldier. Who he is isn’t important,” she said. “It’s really all about who he works for. I did some digging—”
“I bet.”
She ignored the muttered comment. He might thank her later, though she doubted it. “Rumor has it he works for a group called the Irish Cartel.” A few clicks and she’d pulled up the intel she’d gathered on their mystery dead man. “Guess who runs the Irish Cartel.”
She scooted back enough to allow Fionn closer to the monitor, but really all he needed was to see the first file—an image of a small group of men walking a crowded street. The only image she’d been able to find of what most intelligence contacts believed to be the head of the Cartel. She’d cleaned it up, focused it, enlarged it. There was zero doubt that the man in the center was Santo Ferrina Jr.
When Fionn straightened, his jaw was granite-hard. “What is the Irish Cartel?”
She clicked on that file next. “Bad news. They first surfaced just after Ferrina’s father was arrested, often in connection with a job—bank heist, robbery, that kind of thing.”
“Keeping himself bankrolled.”
She nodded. “Over the years they’ve gotten increasingly bolder, coming to the notice of European intelligence.”
Fionn was scanning her file. A little whistle escaped him, his breath warming the sensitive skin where he’d bitten her neck earlier. A shiver shot down her spine. “These are some big jobs.”
“And violent ones. He’s known for taking out rivals with impunity—and their families. Their friends. Sometimes their communities if it serves his purpose. Ferrina has more of a scorched-earth policy than anything else.”
Lyse’s stomach lurched at the thought of Siobhan alone in that cottage. Robert McCullough and Santo Ferrina Sr. had embezzled millions before they’d been caught. Robert had been murdered, and Ferrina went to prison, but no one had found the money. Knowing she was in danger, Fionn had hid his mother in a small Irish village no one would associate with her, under an assumed identity no one but Fionn knew.
Until now, because it seemed as if Ferrina had traced Siobhan McCullough down.
Fionn stood, and she turned in her seat to watch him pace. He’s always thought better when he was moving. The problem was, they didn’t have a lot of time to think. The man watching Siobhan hadn’t made a move yet, but there was little doubt he’d contacted Ferrina by now.
“Your mother is in danger, Fionn.” Whether Ferrina was after the money or simply revenge, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.
Fionn rounded on her. “Who exactly is she in danger from, Lyse? You found my mam. You were watching her house. You brought me here, where Ferrina is most likely waitin’. Did you do that for yourself or for him? How am I to know you’re not working together?”
Chapter Six
“Why would I warn you about Ferrina if I was working for him?”
Those wide, innocent eyes, looking up at him with so much hurt, tried to sucker him every time. He wouldn’t allow it. “To lure me here. To be setting us up so Ferrina can trap two birds at once, have a better chance at finding the money.” He leaned in, grabbing her chair on either side of her shoulders. “I’ve got news for you both—there is no money. If we’d known where it was, we would’ve been after giving it back a long time ago.”
She didn’t flinch away, not like the last time he’d pinned her to a chair. “I’m not working for Ferrina, and I’m not after any money, Fionn.”
“Prove it.”
Her eyes went dark, sad, and her hand rose toward his face. Instinct had him grabbing her wrist, holding it away from him. She did flinch then, from his grip on her arm. Her eyes watered, so close he could see the pupils dilate in response to the pain. “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?” she said. Her voice was low and heavy with an emotion he refused to believe was genuine. “Why can’t you understand? I—”
He threw her wrist away from him, straightening abruptly. “Save it. I think I made my position clear, Lyse.” He leaned in again. “You don’t deserve forgiveness.”
Lyse surged out of the chair. The move forced him back, the shock of her aggression pushing him into warrior mode. His hands came up, ready to defend himself, but instead of attacking, Lyse spun away. “You’re a liar,” she said, voice vibrating with anger.
