Page 8 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

Six men exited the lorry’s cab, all moving swiftly toward the house. Ellie and Kathleen skidded to a halt next to their group, and Sophie started filling them in. Jamie didn’t bother scanning the pages, sensing something crooked. He flipped to the end, looking for a signature. There was a rat, and he would have his name.

“This has to be a giant misunderstanding,” Ellie moaned. “Daddy always handles things.”

He found the signature three pages from the back: Malcolm Coveney.

Shit.He recognized the notoriously powerful man’s name, sure enough. He hadn’t realized Linc had attracted the notice of the man who considered himself as good as one of the old kings of Ireland, his modern throne being in Watertown, where his tentacles wriggled in everything from shaping people’s lives to developing big-money projects he could siphon from.

“What does it say?” Sophie asked.

He slapped the papers against his knees, fighting frustration. He could try and argue with them, but he wasn’t going to win. He could also try and block the road, but he feared their response. There were women and children here, and these men were the kind who might escalate to violence if challenged. There was only one person who might have enough power to prevent this, and that was the owner.

“It’s a play aimed at Linc. Call your father, Ellie, and bring him over here stat.”

A drill sounded, and Jamie looked over. Three men were getting to work removing the front stairs, decks, and porch roofs while the others disconnected the utilities.

Jamie had rarely seen servicemen move so swiftly. “Ellie, if there’s anything inside you want—”

Kathleen took the phone from her friend. “Go! I’ll call Papa Linc.”

She darted in through the door, a determined look on her face.

“Greta,” Sophie said, dropping to her knee in front of her daughter, whose entire frame was tight with tension. “Will you do Mommy a favor and sit in the car with your headphones on?”

She gave her a decisive nod, and Sophie saw her safely to the car and then jogged back. Jamie listened as Kathleen talked to Linc, who was still on his way home from Westport after a delay. He thought about calling his brother, but what could be done? These men had been sitting on the road, waiting for them to arrive. They intended to do exactly what they’d been sent to do. Because they’d pay mightily if they failed.

“Linc said he’d be here as soon as possible.” Kathleen gripped Sophie’s arm. “We’re going to figure it out.”

“They don’t seem to be interested in negotiating,” Sophie said, her gaze following their every move. “How come they got here at exactly the same time we did? I’m so confused.”

“Like I said, it’s a jab directed at Linc. Not you.” Jamie turned away in disgust as they removed the mobile home’s skirt and released the underground ties, separating it into two parts for transportation. They would be on the road before Linc arrived.

“They certainly seem to know what they’re doing, don’t they?” Kathleen elbowed Jamie. “Smart of them to arrive late Friday afternoon, right as things close for the weekend. I’m going to tell Ellie she needs to wrap it up. They might haul it away with her in it.”

That he could not let slide. Jamie called out, “Hey! There’s a woman inside. Didn’t you see her?”

“Then she needs to exit the premises, doesn’t she?” one of the eejits shouted back.

He locked his jaw. “These are the moments that challenge my character as a peaceable man,” he told Sophie, “but I don’t think challenging them will do anything but escalate the situation. I wouldn’t want any of you to be caught in that, least of all Greta.”

“I appreciate that, especially as the daughter of a volatile artist,” Sophie said tightly. “Violence isn’t the answer. Jamie, I saw your face when you got to the back of those legal papers. Who did this? You know him, right?”

“Only by reputation.” He was relieved to see Ellie leave the house with a few large shopping bags, Kathleen rushing to help her.

Sophie stepped closer to him, her skin flushed red. “I know people have tried to sabotage the arts center before. If it’s directed at Linc, that’s probably what this is about, right?”

He thought over the nature of his response before saying, “I suspect as much, yes.”

She planted her feet, the first whisper of fierceness radiating from her. “Tell me about the man who did this. This is my fight now.”

“He’s a bigwig operator from Watertown, a town about an hour away, who’s used to getting his way. We don’t have kings in Ireland anymore, but if we did, he’d put a crown on his head. He makes people’s careers if they please him. He builds things. Gives permits when no one else can get them—”

“So he’s a corrupt wheeler and dealer with a God complex,” Sophie finished, “and he wants something from Linc. Well, it’s not the first time. Linc has been a billionaire for two decades. He knows how to handle crap like this.”

“But he shouldn’t have to,” Jamie bit off. “And neither should you.”

Kathleen and Ellie were arranging the bags in the car and talking to Greta now. Jamie watched as the six men worked the crane and lifted the first part of the house onto the trailer.

“Where are we going to live now?” Sophie asked with a harsh sigh. “Linc said the housing market was near impossible here.”

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