I wondered if we could even touch him. He had the best lawyers wiping his ass, as proved by the powerful retainer he sent to represent O’Connell, and he’d been at this game long enough to know exactly how to cover his tracks in seven layers of deceit and legal-ese bullshit.
“I wouldn’t say no cards,” Fletcher piped up beside me. She lounged in her chair, but I could see the tension coiled beneath the calm facade. “You did just admit to kidnapping, after all.”
Holden slid his gaze to Fletcher and regarded her over the rim of his glass. “Did I?”
“You did,” Fletcher said in the same tone of voice you used to tell a child they’d spilt their milk. “You said, and I quote, ‘then I have no real reason to hand the boy over.’”
Holden’s expression turned sharp, like icicles dripping off a roof. “Alas, it’s your word against mine.”
“It’s not, actually.” Fletcher reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. The screen lit up on the open voice recording app. Smiling mirthlessly, she picked up her scotch glass and poured it onto the dirt of the potted plant by Holden’s desk.
Holden stared at her while I choked back a laugh, covering it up with a cough.
“So you give us Haruto and Finn, and maybe this recording finds its way into the trash.”
I cocked my head as I regarded Holden, searching his face for tics as he chewed over Fletcher’s proposition.
“And before you think of trying to take the phone by force, I set the file to save directly to the cloud,” Fletcher continued. “There’s just enough service out here to do so.”
She’d clearly seen that thought flit past his eyes just as I had, and I sat a little straighter in my seat, legs braced and ready to move at any second. But Holden laughed, and the violence in his eyes disappeared behind his pupils, hidden but still there.
“Clever,” he said. “I didn’t even see you take your phone out.”
Fletcher didn’t deign to tell him when she’d started recording.
“It would be pretty hard to wiggle out of that, even for your high-powered lawyers,” I said. “It’s time for you to give us what we want.”
But Holden just kept dodging the order, and each time he did, I felt my rage rise another notch, ever closer to spilling over. “How did you find me here? I’m merely borrowing this estate while I’m in the country.”
“Followed the stench,” I answered coldly.
“O’Connell told you,” Holden said. He shook his head. “Or was it that spineless eel, Rickerson?” When I didn’t answer, he shrugged as if it were of no consequence. “I suppose it’s about time to make good on my promise to him.”
I saw myself leap across the desk to wring Holden’s neck. I wanted to pound his casual indifference towards other people’s lives right out of him, but I dug my fingernails into the armrests of the chair instead, carving crescents into the black leather. I knew that I said saving Finn was our first priority, but after meeting Holden, I desperately wanted to bring him down.
The three of us stared at each other. The silence seemed to stretch on into infinity as if someone had taken a photograph of us and frozen us at that moment.
“Alright,” Holden said finally, and at first, I thought I’d misheard him.
I covered my surprise, not wanting him to know that he’d caught me off guard. There was something about this that I didn’t like. He’d given in too easily, and there was a glint in his eyes that I couldn’t quite read. I could smell a trap, but I couldn’t smell the how or the where.
Holden finished his scotch and pressed the button on his desk radio. “Bring the boy,” he said shortly and leaned back in his tall chair, steepling his fingers under his chin as he looked to us. “It will just be a minute.”
I pulled the half-eaten Curly-Wurly from my pocket and chewed on it while we waited, dropping the wrapper carelessly onto Holden’s desk, pleased when his eye twitched. A second later, the gesture felt petty and low, but I didn’t take it back. I wished Fletcher and I could have a word, talk about how we were getting out of there with Finn, but we couldn’t speak without Holden overhearing. I found it hard to believe that Holden would actually let us leave the island, but I hoped that was just paranoia born from watching too many movies with over the top villains.
I heard footsteps coming down the hall behind the unbarricaded door. They knocked, and Holden called for them to enter. Fletcher and I turned expectantly as the knob twisted, and the door creaked open. Three people stepped into the room. The first was Finn. He looked clean and well cared for but absolutely terrified, dark bags under his wide eyes, his hair in utter disarray. The hand on his shoulder belonged to a woman with blonde hair, wearing a blouse with tiny, stencilled birds on it. My heart jumped in my chest.
“Hi, Callum,” Lena Taggert said with a sheepish smile on her lips.
Twenty-Six
I stared at Lena while Fletcher cursed violently beside me. Rage came off Fletcher like waves on the shore, but I ignored her, caught on Lena’s face. She looked out of place on the island with her blue blouse and white trousers, her blonde curls unaffected by the rain. The man in a long coat and tweed cap stood just behind her. His smile had a cruel edge to it, and he edged closer to her back as if to claim her as his own. Lena’s hand was gentle on Finn’s shoulder, but she still held him in place across the floor from us.
Finn had no idea who Fletcher and I were. He probably thought we
