Broch raised his hands. “Ah need tae talk tae Alain.”
“No way. We sent the boy home—”
“It’s aboot Mo. She’s been taken.”
Ripples rose on Philip’s forehead. “Taken?”
“Taken. By bad men.”
Philip lowered his weapon and sighed through his nose, his jaw clenching.
“Fine. Follow me, but no funny stuff.”
Broch followed him to Alain’s door, where Philip knocked and Dez answered. She seemed surprised and not overjoyed to see him.
“What do you want?” She tilted to look past him at Broch. “Have you lost your mind letting him in again?”
Philip grimaced. “He said something happened to Mo.”
Dez scowled as she returned her attention to the Highlander, but Broch thought he saw a flash of surprise in her expression.
“Where’s your bitch?” she asked.
Now it was Broch’s turn to frown. “Ah’m goan tae let that gae. Where’s Alain?”
“Alain isn’t feeling well—”
A whisper hissed from somewhere behind Dez. “Ees that the Scot?”
Broch pushed the door. Dez made an attempt to keep it closed, wrestling against his weight, but he continued to apply pressure until it snapped from her grip. The door swung open to reveal Alain standing in the living room surrounded by suitcases. He looked pale and shaken.
“They hae Catriona and Mo,” said Broch. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but something about the man’s blanching pallor led him to believe the Frenchman already knew his wife’s abduction was at least a possibility. Judging by the luggage, maybe he already knew and didn’t want to be next.
Alain shot an angry look at Philip and waved him away. “Go outside. Don't let anyone else up here, you filthy animal.”
Philip grumbled and shut the door.
Dez stepped back and wrapped her arms across her chest, her lips squeezed into a tight knot.
“Volkov took Catriona, too?” she asked.
“Aye.”
She grunted and glared at Alain. The Frenchmen refused to look at her.
Broch turned his attention to Alain, who had collapsed into his chair like a throw draped across it.
“I suppose you’re going to say this is all my fault.”
Broch nodded. “Aye. Thit’s why ah’m here.”
“Weren’t you with zem?”
“Howfur dae ye ken that?”
Alain shifted in his seat. “Why wouldn’t you be with Catriona?”
Broch resisted the urge to choke the life out of Alain. It seemed Volkov had been in touch with the wee toad, and the coward’s response had been to pack up and run.
“Aye, ah was there. Ah got away, but ah need tae find where they took them. Dae ye ken?”
Alain covered his mouth and pulled at his chin. “I sink I do, but zere’s no way...” Alain put his hands on the back of his head and dipped his nose towards his knees, as if he thought making himself small enough would hide him from his troubles.
Broch moved forward and took a seat in the chair opposite Alain. He needed to keep the man focused. If Alain fell apart now they’d all be dead in twenty-four hours.
“Look at me.”
Alain peered up, white ringing the bottom of his eyes.
“Tell me whaur they are. Tell me whit they want.”
Alain took a deep breath and leaned back into the sofa.
“He’s a Russian. I made a deal with him. I steal Mo’s designer clothes and he sells zem far away. I built a network of bribery, thieves, fences—eet ran like clockwork. But Volkov wants to cut me out. He wants me to give him my sources and zen he will free my Mo.”
“And Catriona?”
Alain glanced away. He was nodding, but he didn’t look convinced.
Broch neither knew nor cared that the wee man had no intention of securing Catriona’s safety. Alain had already sent Volkov after them once. Only the Russian’s greed had stopped him from killing them at the Chinese restaurant.
He leaned on his elbows and brought his face closer to Alain’s.
“Sae give him whit he wants.”
Alain scoffed. “I wish eet were zat easy. He threatened me but I didn’t listen. I know him better now. Once he has ze sources, he’ll kill ze girls and me as well. He can’t risk letting me live. I would know all his secrets. I could sever his connections to my people.”
“Bit if he murdured Mo, he wouldn’t hae her claes.”
Alain sniffed and thrust out his boney chest. “Mo’s clothes are a very small part of ze full operation now.”
Alain’s brag didn’t impress Broch. Everything about the man felt smalltime. He’d never be in a position to take on the Russian. Not later and, unfortunately, not now.
He flopped back in his chair. “Yer a wee greedy shite, Alain.”
Alain nodded. “It’s true.”
“Ye sent Volkov after us. Ah should wring yer scrawny neck.”
Alain’s eyes flicked in the direction of Dez.
“You're going to let him talk to me like ziss?”
Dez nodded. “I think I am this time. You knew about Mo and you were going to run?”
Alain shook his head and muttered. “I wouldn’t be any good to her dead. I needed time to sink.”
Broch raised a hand. “Och, dinna worry yerself. Ah willnae kill ye fer noo. Ah need tae find Catriona and Mo. Ye kin hang fer all ah care.”
“Find zem? You’re going to go after zem?”
“O’ coorse ah’m gaun after thaim. Bit ahm needin’ ye tae tell me whaur thay took thaim.”
Alain stood and began to pace the room, pulling at his lips as if in thought.
“Oui. Oui...He has a place. Eet’s a few miles off ze strip. A safe house.”
“I know it,” said Dez.
Alain looked at her. “You do?”
She nodded, looking grim.
“I need to give him my network.”
Broch stood and pointed at Alain. “Yer nae goan tae dae a thing.”
“I must. He’s going to call back. I have to tell him.”
Broch stepped forward, his jaw
