Page 14 of Stripped

"Thank you, Mr. Rankin. I couldn't have done this without you." The lawyer looked over at Wraith. "Uhm, this is my friend Robert."

The man didn't offer him his hand. Instead, he gave him the once over.

"Why don't I get us some tea?" Wraith said, giving her hand a squeeze and leaving. He walked slowly, listening to their conversation.

"Who's the lad?" Rankin asked Pim.

"He's from the Scottish Ballet Orchestra, uhm, we've been seeing each other."

"Did your grandfather meet him?"

"No. I was going to introduce them but, well…" her voice trailed off.

"Why don't we get you a seat?" He led her over to a chair in the hallway. Wraith watched out of the corner of his eye as Rankin motioned with his head to one of his cronies to watch him.

He went into the refreshment room, pouring tea into a paper cup, and scanned the gathering crowd. The group reeked of the upper echelons of organized crime. Huddled in small groups and talking in hushed whispers, were the managers and CEOs of the various businesses Angus used to launder his dirty drug money. There were even a few government officials. Wraith added some milk and sugar to the cup, smiling guilelessly at the thug Rankin had watching him. He brought the cup over to Pim. "Here you go, darling."

She took it with a shaky hand, taking a small sip. "Thank you."

He gave her shoulder a small squeeze, hoping to calm her nerves. People came up to her, offering their condolences. She smiled sadly as she listened to them tell their stories of how they knew Angus and of what a great man he had been.

"He was the best," she agreed stoically.

Wraith's stomach clenched. She really had no idea how corrupt he was and that he was responsible for the exploitation of not only the mentally ill and disabled, but also children and youth. McNeil had used both groups to set up "drug nests" by commandeering the homes of the most vulnerable individuals and then grooming them to sell drugs and travel across counties, bringing his illegal trade to rural areas. So many lives had been ruined because of him.

The crowd had thinned. Wraith had seen no signs or similarities within the group that reminded him of the mysterious killer owl. He watched as a young woman no older than Pim came out of the chapel room, along with a small boy. Rankin stopped them. The girl was clearly upset and clutching the child by the hand protectively. He pulled them aside and seemed to be speaking harshly to the girl as he ushered them outside. By the time Rankin returned, he was red in the face. Wraith noticed, as he approached, he changed his expression to one of concern, adjusting his tie and straightening his jacket. "Things are beginning to wrap up, sweetheart. Would you like to go visit him in the chapel?"

Pim rubbed her neck reluctantly but nodded. Wraith took the undrunk cup of tea from her, throwing it into a trash bin. She stood up and walked over to the chapel door.

"I'll be here if you need me," he said behind her. No matter what he thought of Angus McNeil, she was innocent in all of this, and apparently, the old man had been her only family. No other family had shown up. She stood back from the coffin as if it might explode, stiff and rigid. Wraith was unsure if she was praying or saying good-bye to him as her head was lowered and her eyes were closed. Rankin came and stood beside him at the door.

"This will be tough on her," the lawyer said quietly. "I didn't think she would go in."

"Aye, but she's strong."

"When her father was murdered, she refused to believe he was gone. It was Angus who forced her to go to the viewing and look at him, so she would finally accept his death."

Murdered. That wasn't in any of the briefs Wraith read. In fact, he had never seen the police report. All he knew was that her father had passed away. He would have to have Gabriel send him the actual files. Pim suddenly turned and pushed past both of them, running out the front door. He found her standing by the car. "Come here," he said. Putting his arms around her, he pulled her to his chest, holding her.

"I'm sorry." She wiped her face on the sleeve of her dress.

"You don't need to be sorry. I know that was hard."

"I'm fine. It was just a moment." She stepped away from him, composing herself. "Would you mind taking me home?"

"Of course not." He opened the passenger door and helped her in, pulling the seatbelt tight across her.

She stopped him, taking the buckle, and gave him a strange look. "I can manage."

His jaw clenched. Never, had he met someone so willful. He shut her door and made his way around the car. The girl from the chapel stood outside a coffee shop across the street with the young boy, watching them. She drew back when she realized he saw her and grabbed the boy's hand, walking down the street.

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