Sean spotted several horses tied to stakes on the outskirts of the ramshackle market.
I can ride there in time.
Sean approached the beasts and stood petting a black one on the neck as he scanned the crowd. No one looked in his direction.
Could his old bones hop on an unsaddled horse the way they used to? Could he even stay on top of the creature?
He pulled the horse’s reins from the stake and gathered them in his hand, along with a clump of mane near the horse’s withers.
Here goes nothing.
With a sharp intake of breath he regretted immediately, Sean jumped and used the horse’s mane to drag his body across its back. His chest throbbed, his breath coming in short, painful gasps. He threw a leg over the horse and sat up.
So far, so good.
Taking a moment to recall the feeling of a horse beneath his weight, he spurred on the beast. The animal broke into a trot, bouncing Sean and sending shooting pains through his chest and groin. Doubling over, he struck his mount a second time with his heels and it began to canter. That gait proved easier on his body.
Okay. Settle in. You can do this. It’s like riding a bike, only infinitely more painful.
He pointed the horse to the north and held on for dear life.
I’m coming, Isobel.
Chapter Fourteen
Catriona gave the address Mo’s mouse had sent them to a new taxi driver and the man turned to look at them through the sliding window.
“This address is way out of town.”
Catriona shrugged. “It’s where we have to go.”
The driver sighed and started the fare.
Catriona tried to reach Alain to ask what he’d unleashed upon them. He didn’t answer. Next she called Sean. When she was unable to hunt him down, she tried Luther instead.
“Hey Luther, have you seen Sean?”
“No.”
“I wanted to let him know Tyler is on his way back. Commercial. Alain decided to let him go with a warning. But the weird thing—”
Luther cut her short. “Okay, I’ll let him know.”
Catriona heard the line click dead and scowled at her phone.
“Well that was borderline rude. He just hung up on me.”
Broch shrugged. “Ye dae tend tae prattle oan.”
“I do not.”
She slipped the phone back into her pocket as the taxi pulled beside a large warehouse surrounded by desert.
Catriona leaned towards the opening between themselves and the driver. “I need you to wait for us.”
The driver shook his head. “Nope. I have places to be.”
“You could have told us that before you drove us out here.”
“I’m not a mind reader. I didn’t know you’d want me to wait.”
Catriona huffed and pushed cash through the hole in the plastic separating the front and the back of the car.
They’d barely closed the doors before the taxi headed away. Catriona stood with her hands on her hips, watching him go. Getting a ride back downtown would be tough. Maybe they could catch a ride with a worker. She turned to Broch, who stood stuffing the vest into the waistband of his jeans. The scarf he’d already thrown around his neck.
Back to business.
“We need to get a feel for how this network is set up, so let me do the talking. I’m going to interview the foremen and the workers.”
He rolled his eyes. “Aye. Ah ken my role.”
“It’s not that, it’s just the accent—”
“Aye. Aye. Ah’m juist here to crack skulls.”
Broch released a deep sigh and Catriona could tell he was playing with her.
She tapped him on the chest. “I thought you were really hurt.”
He smirked and put a hand on her cheek. “Ye kin dae a’ the talking, my sweet little lassie. Ah’m juist ‘ere tae support ye.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl and slapped his chest again. “Shut up. You’ve been watching too many women’s talk shows.”
There were three enormous, closed bay doors on the side of the building and one regular-sized entry. She turned the knob on the small portal and found it locked. There was a button next to the door and a camera mounted above, pointing at them.
Catriona pushed the button. “Hi, I was sent here by Mo?”
After a short delay, a voice crackled back at them “Name?”
“Catriona Phoenix.”
She heard a buzzer and tried the knob again. The door opened. She looked up at Broch and found him staring off down the road they’d just traveled. She turned to follow his gaze.
Three cars sat parked on the main road at the end of the long drive leading to the warehouse. There were two sedans and one longer black car, resembling a small limousine.
“I wonder who that is,” she said.
“Aye. Me tae.”
“It’s probably a group leaving Vegas who needed to pull over to get their bearings.”
She opened the door wider and ushered him in. With one last lingering stare at the parked vehicles, he followed her inside.
Catriona and Broch picked their way past unorganized piles of boxes until they reached the center of the warehouse. A man sat at a table eating lunch from a brown paper bag. He looked up at them as another man appeared from the opposite direction.
“You said Mo sent you?” said the approaching man as he raised his hand to shake.
“Yes. We need to ask you a few questions about the clothes being sent to burn—”
What sounded like a gunshot exploded behind them. The warehouse foreman jerked his hand from Catriona’s grip to cover his head. Catriona felt Broch throw an arm over her as they both ducked.
A flash caught Catriona’s eye. A beam of light streaming across the floor from the now opened door. She remembered being buzzed in and knew the
