Chapter 30
Nuala
Logan is taking ages. Half of me wants to go down there and demand to know what’s going on. The other half of me doesn’t really want to know.
I pace the bedroom, and then freeze when I hear a soft vibration coming from somewhere.
Frowning, I move cautiously toward where I think the sound is coming from. It stops, and I freeze, not even daring to breathe.
It starts again a few seconds later and I creep forward, focusing on my canvas tote.
I swallow loudly as I pick up the bag and hold it up to my ear. A phone that definitely isn’t mine, because it’s sitting at the bottom of the canal, buzzes softly at the bottom of my bag.
“What the hell?” I mutter and upend it on the bed.
Everything tumbles out. The pharmacy bag, my battered purse, a few scrunched-up receipts, my keys, a napkin, lip balm, and… a small, cheap, black smartphone.
It buzzes again. Unknown number.
I stare at it. My pulse skitters.
It vibrates in my hand a third time.
I glance at the door and then answer. “Hello?”
“Nuala.”
I frown, recognizing the voice instantly. “Stacey?” I croak. “I thought you were…”
“Dead? That was the idea.” Her voice sounds strained.
I sit down on the edge of the bed hard enough to bounce. “You faked it.”
“For a minute.” Her voice is strained. Fast. “Didn’t stick. Plans changed.”
“You put the notebook in my bag with this phone?”
“Yes.”
“It was deliberate,” I state flatly. This wasn’t a game of hide the notebook to come back to later. How did I not notice the phone before now? I pull it away from my ear. It’s very light, and I haven’t exactly gone rooting through my bag since all this shit went down.
“Why?” I ask, carefully.
“I saw how he looked at you. I knew he’d be back, and you could take this to him.”
“Who?”
“O’Neill.”
“Stacey, what in the hell is going on?”
“Has the notebook found its way into the right hands?”
I pause, wondering how much to tell her. I weigh the silence for a beat and take the plunge. “Define right hands.”
“Not Brennan’s. Not anyone she has on a leash.” Stacey’s breath scrapes the speaker fast. “You took it to O’Neill, didn’t you?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Good girl,” she says, like she’s ticking a box. “Listen to me. If he’s smart, he’ll copy it and flood the table with it. That’s the only way to make it worthless.”
My chest tightens. “Say that again.”
“Copy it. Spread it. You do that, Lisa loses her choke chain. If O’Neill hasn’t done it yet, tell him to move.”
“He’ll move,” I say, hedging. “Who killed the woman in the bathroom?”
“Her name was Aisling. She kept the ledger. I found her that way, with the notebook stuffed behind the cistern.”
“Was it Lisa?”
“I can’t answer that, but if it were, she’d have taken the book.”
“Then who?”
“Listen, Nuala, I don’t have much time.”
“Then say it,” I snap, rising and pacing a tight line at the end of the bed.
“Lisa isn’t top dog. She’s a tool. The leash is higher. Her uncle is Cathal Brennan. Chief Superintendent. He cleans. He moves files. He moves bodies. Ties to the IRA that were kept under very tight wraps. Don’t go near the Garda.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “Where are you?”
The line goes dead.
I stare at the cheap screen until it dims. The quiet in the room presses on my ears.
Chief Superintendent Brennan. My brain races, slamming into walls.
I want to run downstairs and scream it all, but something stops me.
This just went higher up the food chain to the very top.
One wrong move could see me thrown in prison forever, or worse.
“Dammit, Stacey,” I mutter. Why did she have to drag me into this mess that was absolutely fuck all to do with me?
Damn Logan, for coming into the bar. Damn Connor, for sending him. They are all responsible for putting me in this position where I breathe wrong, and a bullet goes in my head.
But now I have this information, I can’t just ignore it. Can I? Can I walk away from all of this pretending I didn’t just speak to Stacey?
I shove the phone under the duvet like it might bite and start pacing again. My skin crawls. Chief Superintendent. IRA ties. Don’t go near the Garda. My mouth is dry, my heart is pounding, and I can’t keep this to myself.
Fuck it.
I snatch the phone and jam it into my pocket. I unlock the door. The corridor is empty. I move fast. Down the stairs through the hall, looking for a sign of life.
I pass an open door and see Logan, sitting next to some guy, staring at a laptop screen. I don’t knock. I push the door and step in. Connor looks up first from behind his desk, then Logan.
His attention snaps to me, reading the state of me in one pass. “What happened?”
Looking at the laptop guy pointedly, I turn back to Logan. “We need to talk. In private.”
“Dave looks at videos. Dave doesn’t hear,” Connor says. “What is it, girl?”
I take the leap of faith and hope this doesn’t come back to bite me. I pull the burner and set it on the desk. “Stacey called me.”
“She’s dead,” Connor says.
“She said the plan didn’t stick.” I don’t sit. “She put the notebook in my bag on purpose, to give to you. She put this in there too. She said to do what you’ve already done, copy it, and flood it. If we do that, Lisa loses leverage.”
Connor glances at the laptop, then back at me. “We already did.”
“Good.” I take a breath. “There’s more. Lisa isn’t the top. Stacey says her leash is higher. Her uncle, Cathal Brennan, Chief Superintendent. He moves files. He moves bodies. Ties to the IRA from old. She said don’t go near the Garda.”
Silence punches the room. I can feel Logan go rigid at my side before he moves.
He crosses the space, grabs the burner, pops the back, and yanks the battery out in one smooth motion. “No more signals,” he says.
Connor steeples his fingers, then points at Dave without looking. “Out.”
Dave bolts. The door shuts. The house hums. My pulse is too loud in my ears.
“Stacey alive changes the board,” Connor says. “She’s off the grid. She’s got friends we don’t see.”
“She’s a Landry,” Logan points out. “Whether or not she was up to her neck in debt with… Brennan… she still has her uncle’s resources.
She also just handed us the head of the snake.
” He steps between me and the door like he’s made of brick.
“Brennan means every uniform could be a trap, even those of ours.”
“And every camera,” Connor adds. He taps the USB on the desk with one finger. “We dig this first. If there’s a path to him, it’s here.”
“If their leverage is gone, they’ll panic, won’t they?” I ask, trying to be useful.
Connor smiles, small and cruel. “Cathal Brennan didn’t make it this far by panicking at the first sign of trouble. We’re missing something. What else did Stacey say? Why you? Who are you, Ms. Quinn, that she dragged you into this almighty mess?”
“Nobody,” I squeak. “She said she saw how Logan looked at me when he came in that day. It was a spontaneous decision, or so she says. I mean, I kind of believe her. I am a nobody. I don’t know jack shit. I didn’t even know Logan before he walked into the bar. That’s it.”
Connor watches me like he’s trying to peel my skin back and see what’s underneath. Logan stands close enough that I feel the heat off him.
“Nothing is ever it,” Connor mutters.
Logan’s already moving, controlled and quiet. He sets the gutted burner on the desk, then angles his body so I’m behind him. I don’t need a translation. He’s screwing the lid down on risk.
“It sounds like she wasn’t working with Lisa. She just knew who Lisa was. Makes sense if Stacey was in debt with Brennan,” Logan says in that calm way that is almost detached.
“Sounds like the hydra just grew a few more heads,” I mutter and sink into a black leather chair that feels like a hug and a death sentence at the same time.