16. Jet
JET
Iremain in the armchair in a dark corner of the lobby and look at my phone, my brother patiently waiting.
Severin’s message comes in, the image taking a minute to download.
It’s a snapshot of the order to appear before the Tribunal of Scotland.
Because IVI doesn’t send invites. They issue summons.
And woe to the man who ignores the order.
“We’re no longer part of the organization,” I say to Sev. “They have no power over us.”
“They will always have power over us. You’re na?ve if you truly believe otherwise.
Tell me what the fuck happened because I’m guessing it wasn’t you who pawned that damned thing.
Hell, I’d have thought you’d have smashed it on that cliff you insist on living in. Hurled it to the bottom of the ocean.”
“It’s not as though I didn’t try,” I hear myself say.
Sev is quiet for a beat. “Was it stolen?” he finally asks, self-control firmly back in place.
Sev knows what happened with grandfather. He knows the whole story. He’s the only one who knows all the sordid details, and I know there’s a part of him that feels the weight of guilt to this day, even though there was no way he could have stopped it. No fucking way.
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“Complicated as in it was my wife who stole it.”
“Wait. What?”
It’s rare to surprise Severin Blackstone. Rarer still to get any sort of emotional reaction out of him. But a gold star to me. I’ve done it twice in one phone call.
I look up to find Amal walking out of the restaurant and into the lobby, one of my men following behind her. When she spots me, I rise to my feet. “Like I said, complicated. I’ll introduce you when you get here because I assume you’re on your way,” I say to Severin.
“Jesus Christ, Jet. What the fuck is going on? Is it fucking Trevino? Did he force you—”
“When do you get in? I don’t imagine you’re flying commercial.”
I cross the lobby to meet Amal halfway.
“I’ll be there by morning. Where do I find you and your wife?”
“Balmoral.” I wrap a hand around the back of Amal’s neck feeling how delicate it is. How vulnerable. “See you at breakfast.”
“Who are we going to see at breakfast?” Amal asks as I lead her toward the elevator.
“Joe, have the valet bring my car around, will you?” I tell the ever-present bellman before turning to Amal. “My brother.” The elevator doors slide open and I walk her inside.
“You haven’t eaten. Don’t you want to finish your dinner?” she asks, confused as the doors slide closed and I turn to face her, pushing my hands into my pockets before I do anything stupid like smash the mirror on the back wall of the elevator. I look at my wife. My troublesome little wife.
“Of all the watches you could have stolen, you had to take that one?”
“I told you I can get it back. I have time. What’s going on? Who was on that call?”
“Yeah, sadly, I don’t think you’ll be getting it back. That’s what that call was about.”
“What do you mean? The man at the shop said he’d hold it for me. I have another two weeks.”
“And you trust a pawn shop operator.”
“It’s not a pawn shop. He’s an antique dealer. I thought I told you that.”
The doors slide open on the seventh floor.
“My na?ve little wife,” I say, walking her to our suite. “The watch is gone. In fact, it’s found its way back to the one place it should never have found.”
“What?”
Malcom sees us coming and opens the door. He looks like he was expecting us.
“Get your coat,” I tell Amal and she heads inside as I fill in Malcom in while grabbing my shoulder holster and gun, which I’d put into the safe after Amal’s little stunt.
I step back out into the hallway. She watches over her shoulder, trying to hear.
“Keep the men here. I’m sure they have eyes on us already.
” Stupid to have thought otherwise where IVI is concerned.
I replay every face I’ve seen since I’ve been in Edinburgh and wonder which of them was an eye for the secret society.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Malcom asks.
I shake my head. “Scope out the area. Check the room for bugs.”
“Bugs?” Amal asks as she emerges from the bedroom.
“I’ll take care of it, boss.”
I nod, grateful for Malcom. He’s been with me long enough to know how to handle things. I pull on my coat.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Amal asks.
“We’re taking a field trip to your little antique shop. You remember where it is?”
“Of course. But why? If the watch is gone…”
“Humor me.” We walk out of the suite and down the hall to the elevator.
“I just thought it was the one you wouldn’t care about,” she says as we head to the lobby. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“I’m learning trouble is part of the package with you. I’ll handle it. Don’t worry. But if there’s anything else I should know, now’s the time.”
She studies me like something clicked into place. “Does it have to do with the insignia on the back? It’s on your arm, isn’t it? Broken though.” When I don’t answer, she continues. “What does it mean?”
“Nothing to you. It will never mean anything to you,” I tell her and take her hand, vowing to protect her from The Society and all its bullshit, as I walk her out into the infernal rain of Edinburgh.