Page 158 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“Just in case?” I raise an eyebrow. He knows what I’m asking. Just in case the host disappears without a trace.

He nods.

“What happens if it records other damning evidence?”

“Those parts will become unexplainably scrambled.”

I stare at him. His expression is sincere. I trust him, at least on this.

“If we could also access the leader’s phone in the same manner you did the other, I’m sure that would also hold some very worthwhile evidence.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I sound defeated. We both know what he’s asking is for someone to effectively become a dead person walking. Whoever chooses to enter the Sicilian lion’s den is coming out in a body bag.

I stand to leave, and Nate escorts me to the door.

“Meanwhile, I’ll speak to my opposite number on the west coast. It’s best we’re prepared for any eventuality.”

I’m about to speak, but he answers my question before it’s even aired.

“Don’t worry, Jaine. I agreed to work with you on this. Aside from the parties we’re targeting, there will be no names mentioned. I give you my word.”

“I appreciate that, Nate.”

“Good luck.”

I step into the corridor and listen to the click as the door closes behind me. I shove the recording device in my pocket beside the spare download one.

I guess it’s time I started praying, as I’m going to need all the help I can get.

* * *

I take out my phone.There are no more missed calls. Dylan knew where I was headed, and Eoin must have given up trying. I stare at the messages from Irish.

Padraig:I thought rather than call you so you could just ignore me that I’d send a message instead.

Padraig:Do you want me to tell you a joke?

No, I want you to tell me that you love me.

Padraig:I’ll tell you it anyway.

Padraig:What do you call an Irishman with a bad case of chickenpox?

I brush the tears from my eyes as I recall memories from a lifetime ago—our first message exchange asfriends.I look at the time. It was sent an hour ago. With a laugh-sob, I message back.

Jaine:A lepper-chaun.

He messages straight back.

Padraig:You remembered. I reckon it’s because the old ones are always the best.

As if I could ever forget.

Jaine:You also reminded me at the time that your ma said if you haven’t got anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all, hence why I’m going to ignore that last message about old being best.

Padraig:Ouch.

Jaine:Sorry, not sorry.

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