Page 205 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“I can’t imagine he would leave a message with the flat office if it were something other than a social call.”
“You’re right, babe.” Wyl picked up the landline phone and dialed the number.
After two rings, “Declan Knowlan.”
“Declan, Wyl Sterling.”
“Wyl, good to hear from you,” Declan said excitedly. “Neither Ailbe nor I had a way of contacting you. I hope you’ll forgive the unorthodox use of your flat superintendent.”
“We didn’t think of exchanging numbers, Declan. If you have caller ID on your office phone, this number is our flat phone. You are welcome to use it any time.” Wyl looked at Rod and shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what Declan wanted.
“I do, and I’ll write it down,” Declan paused to note the number. “How about meeting Ailbe and me at Wilde’s Pub for dinner and drinks this evening? We’d love to get to know you Texans better.”
“Tonight at Wilde’s? Sure,” Wyl glanced at Rod for a thumbs-up or thumbs-down. Rod nodded in approval. “What time?”
“How about seven? We can have dinner and catch James Pearson’s gig.”
“Sounds good. We’ll see you at seven.”
“Oh, and before I forget, Ailbe has talked constantly about how much he enjoyed your presentation yesterday,” Declan said. “There was such a crowd he didn’t have time to tell you himself, but he was very impressed. I’m sure he’ll mention it, but I wanted you to know.”
“Thanks. I’ll blush at the appropriate time when Ailbe says something about the presentation,” Wyl laughed and hoped Declan knew he was joking.
“Good, Wyl. Say hi to Rod for me, and we’ll see you tonight.”
“Fantastic, Declan. Bye.” Wyl hung up the phone.
“Well, Mr. Mysterious was being overly friendly on that call,” Wyl said.
“Sounds like he’s setting the stage. I’m sure Ailbe will want to lure you into his scheme, but they probably want to befriend us first, so it becomes more of afriendly favorthan anything.”
“As long as we know what we’re walking into, we’ll be fine. Keep your guard up, Rod, but let them in. We must make them believe we are simply Texans on our honeymoon.”
* * *
Sergeant Healy’s phone rang. “Healy.”
“Sergeant Healy, Officer O’Malley here. I have an envelope for Chief Superintendent O’Brien. A young man named Rafferty left it at the desk.”
“On my way,” Healy said. He hung up the phone and stepped into O’Brien’s office. “Fergus Rafferty left an envelope for you. Shall I fetch it?”
“Absolutely!” O’Brien said. “It’s a copy of his course project. I want to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Be back in a tic, sir.” Two minutes later, Healy handed the envelope to O’Brien.
“Hold firm, Healy. Let’s look at this.” He pulled the papers from the envelope and scanned the first page.
“I don’t know what to make of this, Healy. It doesn’t look like anything worth murdering someone over.” O’Brien handed the page to Healy.
Healy scratched his unruly red hair. “Nor to me, sir.”
O’Brien slid the pages back into the folder. “Make a copy of these pages and take the copy to Pearson or Cross. Have them deliver it to Wyl Sterling. He can make sense of it if anyone can.”
“Right away, sir.” Healy took the envelope and returned to his desk. He placed a call to Glenn Cross. They arranged to meet that evening at an abandoned warehouse to transfer the envelope.
* * *
“We need to put on a show tonight,” Rod said as they climbed out of the car at Wilde’s. “We must cement the friendship so we can infiltrate their organization.”
