Now she knew that he’d been giving Declan and Diana time alone without her father knowing. Of course, Declan had wanted Diana. Heck, the woman was beautiful and elegant. But Declan was a policeman and her father was a criminal. How did he ever think that’d work out?
Shaking her head, she reminded herself that sometimes love was blind. Which was why she hoped it’d never happen to her.
“You said you tried to record them?”
It took her a moment to realize Justin had circled around to the beginning of her earlier activities. She cleared her mind of the stupidity of love and returned to the present conversation. Given everything else—like the threat of murder, a blank recording didn’t seem important. She reached into her pocket for her phone, then stretched her arm out to him. “Here. There’s nothing there.”
Justin’s face tightened with what she thought was worry. He moved forward and accepted the phone, his eyes never leaving hers. “Christ, Moira, were you trying to get yourself killed? If it’s the three people you say—”
Ignoring the irony of his words versus the threat hanging over them from his boss, she nodded firmly and interrupted him. “It is.” They’d breezed over Fitzgerald and Donnelly being in attendance. Her curiosity about why the meeting occurred had been flushed down the toilet at the murder threat.
“Passcode?” he asked.
Instead of telling him her stupidity in never changing the code from the factory setting, she jumped from the couch, snatched the phone from his hand, entered her pin, then opened the recording.
Pulling the phone close to his ear, Justin closed his eyes as he listened to what was low tones.
Even now, she didn’t hear anything but unrecognizable mumbling. “See, nothing.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm. Her hackles were still on alert at Justin’s being there while they discussed everything. It seemed so… wrong. Yet, observing how he was handling everything made her feel like he was on their side. No matter his boss. But the scales hadn’t fully tilted completely in his favor. As long as he didn’t pull a gun, that she knew he hid under his jacket, all would be fine. At least she told herself that.
At her snide remark, Justin narrowed his eyes at her in what she expected to be a “shut up” directive, but she ignored the threat. Abruptly, he tapped keys on her phone, presumably, deleting the recording to protect his boss, then he removed the sim card. When he slid the phone into his pocket, she opened her mouth to object.
As if expecting her retort, he held up a hand to stall her and withdrew his mobile from the front pocket of his jeans that had just dinged. Holding her tongue, she waited while he did something on his phone. Heck, he could’ve been ordering dinner for all she knew. Nay, she knew better.
When she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer, he held up his phone and restarted the conversation. Although some words were more garbled than the others, the conversation could be heard. Whatever app Justin had used, he’d amplified their voices somehow.
“What’s in this for me? Sounds like you’ve turned, hanging me out to dry.” Although she’d not heard Boyle’s voice until today, his threat stuck with her, so she recognized those as his words.
“Boyle, I’m not doing anything of the sort. We’ll remain partners,” Minister Donnelly said in a soft, easy politician voice that seemed insincere to her ears. Being the only female, she’d been easy to identify.
“Partners?” she mouthed to Justin, who only raised an eyebrow. This made no sense to her.
“You’ll allow Fitzgerald to make a few busts, and you’ll operate more secretly,” Minister Donnelly explained.
Boyle’s angry voice rose. “What? Let you take people, product, and money from me?” he demanded.
Fitzgerald—she thought by process of elimination—cleared his throat. “We already do that. What we’re talking about is targeted, so we’re on the same page. We’ll discuss when and how. As far as personnel, if you have any people you’re done with, have them work the location of the planned bust with a quantity we can afford to lose.”
We? She couldn’t be hearing this right. The three of them together? Having Boyle visit during daylight seemed awfully bold to her if they wanted their “partnership” kept confidential.
“Other than that,” Minister Donnelly stated, “we’ll have the gardai go light on daily drug arrests.”
“Yeah.” Boyle sounded frustrated. “Ten percent to each of you is too much. I take all the risks and only have these verbal promises that won’t do me shit if something seems to put a smudge on your career.”
Eyes wide, Moira was glad she’d not understood this when she’d been standing there. Those were huge accusations.
Thank God she hadn’t actually heard this conversation. Maybe they didn’t know about her. But then there was the noise she’d made. And her name was on the list of employees. Much as she tried to convince herself she might not be in trouble, she mentally fell flat on her face accepting the truth.
A bit more mumbling happened before the explosive words she’d heard while standing in the hallway outside Donnelly’s office. Boyle wanted to kill her brother and Diana.
“Why can’t we just leave earlier than planned?” Diana asked.
Stunned, Moira’s attention turned and sharpened on her brother. “What does she mean?” A feeling of betrayal bit into her gut.
Clearing his throat nervously, Declan stilled his hand on his pregnant girlfriend. “Since we know Diana and I can’t be together here, we were planning to leave Ireland. To disappear.” He said the last part staring lovingly into Diana’s eyes.
Selfishly, Moira asked, “What about me?” Her mind couldn’t grapple on how her brother would leave her—forever—for someone he’d only known a year or so.
“You’re leaving the country as well.” Declan’s matter-of-fact statement took her aback.
“What do you mean I’m leaving Ireland?” Moira shouted.
