Siobhan cried out, the sound echoing Lyse’s shock. She knew Aileen, had sat in the pub and drank with her. The young woman was Lyse’s age, had a daughter who wasn’t in school yet.
“Was Kyla hurt?” Lyse asked.
“We haven’t found her yet,” Mack admitted. “I questioned Aileen at the hospital; she said Ferrina’s men took Kyla yesterday morning, warning her to do what they said or they’d harm the girl. We’re looking now, but…”
“She failed to give them accurate information,” Fionn said.
“She did. Through no fault of her own.” Mack swiped a rough hand down his face. “They showed up during the night. When she argued with them, demanded her daughter back— Well, they weren’t up for taking it kindly.”
Lyse set her fork down on the edge of her plate. She couldn’t stomach another bite, not with the graphic images filling her head. She knew the fear of being blackmailed, knew the sick worry that had driven Aileen to share information.
“I’ve talked to a couple of sources,” Mack was saying, “but no one will be daring to come forward now. Ferrina’s made his intentions clear.”
“And where does that leave us?” Deacon asked. “We need a plan if we’re going to beat this guy.”
Lyse swallowed hard. “I—” She cleared her throat, tried again. “I think I can help with that.”
Five pairs of eyes zeroed in on her, one of them unreadable, the rest… Well, she couldn’t read the rest either. She was too busy avoiding a hot green gaze that seemed to be trying to sear her skin off her body.
“What did you have in mind?” Mack asked.
Her hand shook as she raised her glass to her lips, but without a drink she wouldn’t get any words out, so she did what she had to. When the glass was safely back on the table, she made herself face Fionn’s anger.
“Ferrina’s after the money; we know that,” she said.
Fionn’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your point?”
Jesus, why did this feel so hard? “There are only two ways to stop him: either we kill him, which would be up to the four of you”—she swept a hand toward the men—“or we give the money to the authorities so it’s out of his reach.”
“We don’t have the money,” Siobhan said, shaking her head. “The garda never found it. And in all these years, I’ve not seen a single clue in Robert’s things. I’ve looked; believe me.”
Lyse squared her shoulders. “I could find it.”
Fionn tensed, a shock wave of suspicion slamming across the room to batter her. “The garda found nothing. Not a single thing. That money is gone.”
“That was ten years ago, Fionn,” Lyse pointed out, fighting to stay calm. Forcing herself to meet his look head-on despite the frantic flush of anxiety creeping up her face. “And they didn’t have me.”
Silence filled the room. She could sense the others looking at her, at Fionn, but she kept her focus on him, knowing he was the one she had to convince if she was going to be able to get Siobhan out of this. “I’m not working with Ferrina,” she told him, praying he’d listen. “If I was, he could have lost his best source of insider information yesterday.” She had the stabbing pain in her side to prove it.
“Or did his best to throw us off the scent,” Fionn said.
This time the pain stabbing at her wasn’t physical, and there was no way to hold back the shock of tears in her eyes. “Fionn—”
“Jesus, you’ve become a bastard,” Deacon muttered.
Siobhan stepped toward him. “Son…”
Fionn’s hand came up, cutting them all off. “I’m sorry.” He held there a moment, staring deep into Lyse’s eyes, then dropped his hand. “Deac’s right, I have become a bastard. Habit, maybe, saying whatever pops into my head. I didn’t mean it.” He turned to Deacon. “What do you think?”
Deacon growled at his friend. “Now you ask? Dickhead.” He sighed. “I think we have a resource. We need to use it.”
“We need her, Fionn,” Mack added.
After a long moment of silence, Fionn gave Lyse a nod. “Let’s see what’s on your mind then.”
Chapter Sixteen
He was a great fecking liar.
He hadn’t lashed out automatically, because he’d been after being a bastard. He’d lashed out because, God help him, he couldn’t stand the way Lyse looked at Deacon a minute longer. Like he was a hero. Like he wore gold and earned every ounce of it.
She didn’t look at Fionn that way. No, she looked at him like he’d stomped her kitten to death. And feck it, but when he looked himself in the mirror, he felt exactly the same about the man staring back at him.
Right now she seemed to be deciding if she was going to kick him in the balls or not. Hopefully not. He liked his balls the way they were, thank you very much.
“I need to get my computer set up,” she said, deliberately turning away from him. “You have a desktop, Mack?”
“I do.” Mack took a plate from the stack near the stove and began to pile it high while they discussed specs Fionn only listened to with half an ear. He was too busy watching Lyse’s lips and remembering last night.
“I could use your setup to expand my laptop’s capability,” Lyse was saying.
“And we can jack in with what we brought and get your security system up to speed,” Deacon said.
“I have a security system,” Mack protested.
“Not like this one.” King grinned. “We have a few little toys you might like to play with, Mack.”
Lyse’s toys. Deacon had always been a willing guinea pig when it
