Chapter 45
T he days blur together as I hit dead end after dead end.
After Helen confided suspicions that our rat problem might be internal, I compiled a list of who it could be, of people who raise my hackles and those who are a tad too innocent.
Perhaps now is the time to follow Logan’s lead and give the whole organisation a shakeup.
Just because we’re family doesn’t mean anyone’s spot in the Points is guaranteed—if you fuck around and find out, that one’s on you.
I can already picture my brothers’ reactions.
Seamus will no doubt be pulling out his hair as he comes up with a plan of action.
Meanwhile, Declan will do little more than grind his teeth as he stews in the corner.
Jack will likely start drafting his own list of names with Brennan’s help—who will do little more than push his glasses up his nose and sigh at the inconvenience, leaving Ciaran to be the one to blow his fuse and turn as red as his hair. It’s a shit storm waiting to happen.
“Fucking hell,” I grunt to myself as I stare at the list of names glaring back at me.
The second I hit send and ask the twins to start looking into these fuckers, there’s no taking it back.
Once the seed of suspicion is planted, it can’t be undone.
Even if we’re wrong, the damage—the broken trust—will be irreversible.
Picking up my phone with a sigh, I bite the bullet.
“Yeah?” Brennan answers, sounding less than impressed at being interrupted. God knows what the fucker is up to at this time of night—probably hacking his way through the government’s security systems for the fun of it.
“I’m about to send you a list of names to look into for me.
This little rat problem might be a bit closer to home, so we need to keep this on the down low for now, yeah?
” The silence on the other end of the line does little to reassure me that this is the right move, but I forge ahead.
“There’s every chance I’m wrong, but we can never be too careful.
If anyone gives you pause, work with Ciaran to bring them in, yeah? ”
“Christ, Johnny. This shit is nuclear.”
“You can say that again. Have any luck across the water?”
“No, Logan and Owen turned this place over pretty thoroughly. It looks like whoever killed the fucker knew what they we’re doing. No signs of a struggle, but the place has been raided, either by the kids or the murderer,” he muses, frustration bleeding into his tone at the wasted trip.
“Or both. Get the runners to dig up the back yard. All signs point to that fucker being the last to see Freya alive…”
“You think she might be buried here…” he fills in the blanks.
“Maybe. Either way, we should check.” Helen’s sister—Cora’s aunt and Logan’s mother—deserves more than being forgotten about in some garden in Belfast. If she’s still there, she needs to be brought home where she can rest in peace. It’s the least she deserves.
“Roger that.” As he hangs up, I send across the list with a pit in my stomach.
Shaking it off, I switch gears to deal with the next thing on tonight’s agenda.
Ever since Logan and Abigail’s wedding and the subsequent merger, we’ve been trying to get the Clan cleaned up while also working out who exactly is behind the sick and twisted sex trafficking ring.
But much like me, Logan has had his fair few setbacks and dead ends.
Pouring myself a whiskey, I log onto Zoom and wait for him to join.
“Jonathan, good to see you. How’re things?” he greets me, and even through the computer screen, I can see the way his eyes dart to the sides.
“She’s not here,” I mutter with a roll of my eyes. “If you want to get to know your aunt that bad, there are these things called phones. Ever heard of them?”
“And just how do you propose I get her number? Not all of us have IT geniuses on the take, and I don’t see you handing it out.”
“Bloody right, you don’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t ask around—I’m sure someone would be willing to play messenger for you.
Now, back to business: any news?” As fun as it is to wind him up, I steer us back on track.
The sooner we get this shit worked out, the sooner I can focus on the important things. My woman. My family. Our future.