Page 31 of The Celtic Resolution
“Who?”
“The women! The ones we rescued from that fucking house. All of them have been discharged from the hospital and taken without a trace. The nurse I spoke to has no idea how or when, but they’re all gone. Every single one.”
No witnesses… shit! “Who could do that? Who has that kind of power?”
Saoirse shrugs quickly while massaging her temple with curled fingers. “Fuck knows. Maybe anyone if you’re fast enough. All it would take is a?—”
A sickening snap behind me cuts Saoirse off and as she looks past me, her eyes widen. “No!”
I turn in time to see the Triad rip his now dislocated or maybe broken wrist out of his bindings and throw himself backward to smash up the chair he’s bound to. Throwing myself forward, I sprint the few feet toward him but he’s fast. He grabs a chunk of wood from the back of the chair and whips it hard in my direction so I’m forced to throw my arms up to protect my face. It smacks against my forearms, stinging while Saoirse rushes past me.
“You fucker!” She yells loudly as I lower my arms. She’s faster than me and he’s within her grasp as he sprints toward one of the broken windows. Her arm stretches out and just as she comes into contact with his flailing arm, the man yells loudly and leaps up into the air. He crashes through the broken windowand his scream trails after him all the way down to the ground, where it cuts off with the sickening wet thud of his body hitting the concrete four floors down.
I join her at the window staring down at the guards swarming the exploded mess he’s become.
“Motherfuckingshit,” Saoirse snaps. “Now what the fuck do we do?”
14
SAOIRSE
“And he jumped out the window?” Cormac stands over me with a glass of Scotch in hand, offering it to me as he stares down in disbelief.
I refuse it with a shake of my head. “Yup. I’ve never seen anything like it. Fucker was out of there. I have to assume what he told us was the truth and he knew the Triad would kill him for talking, so he took his own life.”
“Shit.” Cormac’s brows twitch at my refusal but he doesn’t comment and moves behind his desk with both drinks. “How much can we trust what he said is truth and not just garbage to shock you into turning your back?” Cormac sits in his large leather office chair and sighs deeply.
“Well…” My fingers slide along the carved whorls of flowers in the armrest and settle repeatedly over a rather satisfying slope. “I don’t trust it. But I can’t ignore it.” Last week’s disaster with the Triad weighs heavily on me and where Cormac’s office usually brings me a sense of comfort due to the warm, homey nature of the place—including the gorgeous scented candles Evie always makes sure are lit near the fireplace—anxiety sits heavy under my ribs like heartburn.
“Tell me what you have.” Cormac drinks slowly. “All of it.”
“Well, I’m working with Bruno Del Prete.”
Cormac frowns. “Who?”
“Exactly. Don’t worry, I checked him out. Did you know Domenico had a son?”
Cormac shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Me either. He’s been in prison for the past fourteen years.”
“For?”
“Drugs. He was arrested neck deep in the stuff. On the surface it looks like a stupid mistake, but Bruno made an off-hand comment once that makes me think he took the fall for his dad, and he’s sour about it because Domenico acts like he doesn’t exist.”
“You think it’s guilt?”
I shrug. “No clue. He doesn’t talk about his family much outside of being convinced that his father is being framed. He’s hoping to prove it.”
“And get back in good graces with Daddy.”
“Exactly.”
“What do you think?”
My teeth sink into my cheek as I mull over how best to answer. “I think there’s truth in it. Bruno really seems to believe it and it’s that belief that had him listeningreallyclosely to the Triad in prison. He thinks someone is moving around in the underworld using the Del Prete name for clout and power. And his investigation linked up with mine. Discrepancies in the drug shipments, missing people, missing weapons orders. He thinks someone is shipping people under the guise of guns and what we heard from the Triad confirms that. But that’s not all.”
“I know that look.” Cormac drains his glass and sets it down, then leans both elbows on the desk. “Tell me.”
