Chapter Twenty-One
O n my daily walk through the neighborhood, I walked past the pub needing a new owner. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t make out much as I peeked through them. I shook my head with a laugh. This was ridiculous.
Finn would arrive in New York tonight, and Lorcan had his meeting with the Russian today.
There had been a last-minute change of plans—Lorcan had to leave yesterday afternoon to meet Sergej somewhere else, supposedly for business reasons.
Of course, he wouldn’t just use the meeting to talk about Imogen.
She wasn’t important to him. I had other things to worry about than a restaurant.
I headed into Central Park again. My pulse picked up when I got the feeling that someone followed me.
I could feel it on my neck, like a ghost touch that made you want to take flight.
I threw another glance over my shoulder.
Suddenly a shadow fell over me, making me cry out in shock and fear.
I stumbled back, ready to run but bumped into another tall body.
“NYPD, Mrs. Devaney. No reason to panic.”
It took my terrified brain a moment to process what the man in front of me had said. “NYPD?” I echoed, confused. It wasn’t Desmond.
“Police,” a familiar voice said behind me. This was Desmond.
“I know. ”
I glanced back and forth between the two.
They were both in jean jackets and sneakers.
The man before me, who looked as if he might hail from Mexico or Puerto Rico, reached inside his back pocket and pulled out a police badge which he presented to me.
“You can buy them for fifty bucks in Sodom and in better quality,” I said haughtily because I didn’t like how they cornered me.
I’d never had a problem with the police.
My only encounters with them had been when a customer at Merchant’s Arch had too much to drink and became aggressive.
But Desmond and his colleague made me feel backed into a corner.
They treated me as if I, too, were a criminal—maybe because I was married to one.
Desmond gave me a condescending smile. “This is the original, Mrs. Devaney. If you don’t believe us, we can take you to the police department to have this conversation.”
“What kind of conversation?”
Desmond raised his hands. “Listen, maybe this meeting started off on the wrong foot. We’re here to help you in exchange for information.”
“You already told me that you think Lorcan is responsible for my sister’s disappearance.”
“And you chose not to believe us,” Desmond said.
He nodded at his colleague who pulled out two photos.
They had been taken at night and were slightly blurry but it was very obvious who was on them.
Imogen and Lorcan. The photo was taken through a window.
Imogen was only in white underwear or a bikini and Lorcan had backed her against a round table with a sleek white leather bench behind it.
Where had this photo been taken? Not in Lorcan’s apartment, that was certain.
The next photo showed Lorcan tossing a wad of cash on the table beside Imogen’s naked leg.
I swallowed hard, remembering how he’d paid me after our night in Sodom.
“When did you take these?” I asked, my voice toneless. My belly flipped and I was sure I’d throw up.
Desmond and his colleague exchanged a look. “About three and half weeks ago. Shortly before you showed up.”
“Where?”
“Where do you think?” Desmond asked, making me feel like a stupid child.
“In Sodom.” It all made sense, the money, Imogen’s half-naked state. This was probably the part of Sodom I hadn’t seen, the one where girls looked for sponsors instead of auctioning themselves off.
I knew what Imogen had done for the money, and I felt as if I was about to pass out. My stomach revolted as my vision became blurry.
“Are you okay?” Desmond reached for me but I stepped back.
I cleared my throat. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“What happened after this photo was taken?”
“Our contact couldn’t take more photos for his own protection. But your sister and Lorcan moved to one of the private rooms to intensify their first encounter. We don’t know if they kept seeing each other after this initial meeting, but we think it’s likely.”
The question was how it ended. Why didn’t he ask Imogen for her hand if they started off in a similar fashion like we did?
Or maybe he had and she just wanted his money for the photographer and not a husband.
Imogen had never cared for marriage, and she’d always said the only reason why she would marry would be if she met a ninety-year-old billionaire without heirs who didn’t insist on a prenup.
Lorcan had money but he wasn’t close to dying, at least not by natural causes.
“Do you know where my sister is now?”
“We believe she had to run from New York because she took a lot of money from Lorcan but didn’t give him what he wanted in turn.”
So maybe she pretended she’d marry him to get more money and then she ran off. “So you don’t know if Lorcan caught her?”
“Lorcan is a resourceful man. Even if your sister managed to talk him out of several thousand dollars, that wouldn’t get her far. Fake papers, a new look …that’s expensive, and I assume she’s not used to running from the mob.”
I nodded.
Maybe I should grab Finn tonight and board the next airplane back to Dublin.
“That doesn’t mean your sister’s dead. We believe Lorcan might have sold her to the Russians. They deal with sex slaves. The clan, due to their connections to the Catholic church, refrain from partaking in sex workers, but that doesn’t stop them from blurring the lines on occasion.”
I felt sick. It all made too much sense not to be true, but I didn’t want to believe it. “What do you want from me? ”
“Information about Lorcan, about the clan, about his meeting with the Russian mob. They seem to seek a new partnership. We’d like to know what that’s about.”
“Lorcan doesn’t share much about his business with me.”
“Gain his trust, be a bit more approachable. Give him whatever he wants so you can give us what we need to arrest the clan and save your sister.”
It wouldn’t be that easy. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed Finn to come to New York.
But was he really safe in Dublin? As long as Lorcan and his clan were free, none of my family would be safe.
“I’ll help you as best as I can.”
I knew this was a huge risk. If Lorcan found out, I’d be doomed.
“Ideally we’d put a wire on you, but considering your intimate state with Lorcan that’s probably too risky.”
“No wire.” I felt icky when I considered carrying microphones on my body.
Desmond opened a small box with three very small devices. “These are bugs. You can put them under the bed, inside Lorcan’s car and his office.”
“What if he uses detectors?”
“If you don’t act suspicious, he won’t have reason to search his own home and car. So be careful. If you can hide one of the bugs in his office at the docks, that would help us the most. That’s where he talks business with his crew.”
I stuffed the box into my handbag.
“Your sister isn’t the only one in danger,” Desmond said. “Our contacts told us that your mother is on the hitlist of the Devaney clan.”
“That can’t be,” I said. “They never bothered her while she lived in Dublin.” At least, that was what I thought, but I wasn’t really sure. Mum hadn’t really been an open book about these things. Was this the reason she wanted Finn to come to New York? Did she know that she was in danger?
“That’s because they forgot all about her. Your mother was lying low, but then your sister showed up in New York, and she insulted another Devaney. Now you are here. Some voices have become loud that the shame of the past needs to be rectified.”
Was this true? I couldn’t really ask anyone.
I didn’t trust Gulliver. His loyalties obviously belonged with the mob and not his family.
Even God came in second place behind his criminal allies.
And Mum would never tell me the truth. She’d try to deal with things herself.
I had to trust my instincts, but even those were giving me mixed signals right now.
Lorcan hadn’t treated me badly. And what was the purpose of marrying me to get revenge?
He could have tortured or killed my mother and me.
My head hurt from trying to figure it out.
“We can protect your mother and you. We can put you in the witness protection program once we have your testimony.”
If I ever made it that far. I nodded because right at this moment there was nothing else I could do. The photos were proof that Lorcan had at least lied about one thing. Even if he wasn’t involved in Imogen’s disappearance, he hadn’t been honest about having met her.
“I have to go,” I said, glancing at my watch. I needed to pick up Finn at nine o’clock. That was in two hours.
“We’ll try to meet you again next week. Same place. We’ll know when you’re around.”