Page 222 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“Good, we’ll see you then.”
* * *
At four-thirty, Ailbe and Declan greeted the Sterlings at O’Connell’s, martinis waiting for the Texans.
“Drinks for us?” Wyl asked as they sat.
“You ordered for us the other night, so we returned the favor,” Declan said. “I hope the martinis here are up to your standards. We requested Boru.”
“We like Boru, Declan. Thanks.” Rod took a sip. “How was work today?”
“My day was busy,” Ailbe said. “The students are a handful when the pressure is on. So many questions. The line outside my office never seemed to end.”
“Mine wasn’t too bad,” Declan said. “Students are preparing for an art show next week, so they spent time finalizing their work for printing and display. I have a good group this semester.”
“Sounds like you both can use this drink.” Wyl raised his glass for a toast. “Here’s to relaxing with friends.”
“Here-here!” All three responded, clinking glasses. Ailbe and Declan exchanged glances, smiling at the wordfriends.They had their patsies.
“Wyl, any questions on the project guidelines?” Ailbe asked.
“Only one so far,” Wyl said. “Do you want me to focus on specific projects or everything?”
“Why don’t we meet in my office on Monday? You’ll have digested the project plan more thoroughly, and we can figure out what would work best,” Ailbe said.
“Sounds good,” Wyl said. “How is nine-thirty?”
“That works.” Ailbe paused, “You don’t know how much I appreciate your help offer. Rod can help you figure out the grading.”
“I had the same thought, Ailbe. Rod will enjoy seeing the complexity of the project. I briefly showed him today.”
“Good.” Ailbe tensed at others knowing about the project, but needed Wyl’s experience. Declan could handle the situation if it got out of hand. Rod was expendable, but not until Wyl’s usefulness ended.
“You ready to go, Ailbe?” Declan asked. “I’m a bit tired.” An edge of irritation flowed from Declan’s voice.
“Sure.” Ailbe finished his Bulmers. “I’ll see you gents on Monday.” They stood and left.
Now alone at the table, “Did you notice the change in Declan’s attitude?” Rod asked.
“I think there is trouble in paradise,” Wyl said. “That could work in our favor. There is nothing like internal strife to hamper success.”
“I still feel uneasy around those two.” Rod stood and shrugged on his jacket.
“Don’t ever lose that feeling, Rod.” Wyl tugged on his own jacket. “Those two are not to be trusted.”
* * *
That evening, Fergus Rafferty climbed into the tub for a hot bath before bed. In his tiny efficiency flat near the GMIT campus, everything was in one room except for the bathroom, which occupied one corner of the rectangle that made up the flat. As his butt sank into the hot bathwater and found the bottom of the tub, he heard an unfamiliar noise.
“Who’s there?” he called out, listening for a response. A loud meowing outside signaled a stray cat. “Feck,” he muttered, drying his hands on a towel hanging near the tub and reaching for his earbuds. His iPod was on a window ledge above the tub. He got it and found his favorite playlist before settling back into the warm water to relax, eyes closed.
A shadow passed over his eyes a minute later, and he opened them. The water sloshed as he jolted with surprise. The sudden jerk caused his iPod to fall from the window ledge into the tub. Fergus sat up, jerking the earbuds from his ears.
“Who the feck are you?” Fear shook his voice at the ominous figure standing next to the tub. Dressed in black with a black ski mask covering his face, the figure said nothing.
Fergus put his hands on the tub's rim to stand, but the figure placed a hand on his head, keeping him seated in the water as it glanced around the bathroom.
“What do you want?” Fergus shouted, nothing but a high-pitched squeak coming out of his mouth. “Get out of my flat!”
