The Scarlet Deep
Page 69
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“A small garden, but no alley and no cameras. Matthew, slow it down a bit.” Brigid leaned over but didn’t touch the screen. “There. Point it out for them. The older woman.”
“Oh, I see her. She looks like a housekeeper or something,” Novia said.
“It’s the only human we see coming or going,” Brigid said. “That in itself is notable. This house, for instance, has security and servants exiting and entering throughout the day. But in the Anker house, we see no one but this old woman. A few minutes after she leaves…” Brigid waited for the recording to catch up. “The smoke is visible from the upstairs windows first, but it’s soon everywhere. An accelerant was used throughout the house. There were secured rooms in the basement, but they were gutted. There was no chance for the firefighters to save it. They focused on keeping the houses on either side from burning.”
Terry walked to Cormac. “I know your first instinct is to take your daughter and leave. Christ knows, I’d want to. And if you do that, I’ll understand, but I hope you don’t. Someone wanted you gone. That’s why they went after your girl. I want you both to be safe. Will you let my people coordinate with yours? Add some local lads?”
Cormac said nothing until Novia nudged him. “Fine,” he growled. “We’ll stay. For now. Consider this my happy mood—I had a big breakfast.”
“The question is,” Anne said, “what did both you and Rens know that made you targets for whoever is doing this?”
“Beats me,” Cormac said. “I’d never even met the man before I came here. His clan’s not welcome in my city.”
“Why not?”
Cormac looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Because I don’t want spies stirring up trouble and selling my information to the highest bidder? Who are you, anyway? You’re not Mary Hamilton, so why are you here?”
Murphy snarled. “Watch your tone, O’Brien. She’s Mary’s sister and my mate. Show some respect.”
Anne spun, her mouth open. “You presumptuous man. I can speak for myself.”
Murphy shrugged, and Brigid stifled a laugh.
“It’s true,” Murphy said. Then he smiled at Cormac. “She doesn’t always like me, but she’s still my mate. So watch your bloody mouth, O’Brien.”
“Fine.”
Anne decided to ignore Murphy. “Did you determine anything about your attacker before you killed him?”
“He tasted Spanish.”
“Dad,” Novia protested, “don’t be prejudiced.”
“What?” Cormac said. “He did. Or maybe he smelled like Spanish food. I don’t know.”
Anne thought Novia resembled a frustrated teenager dealing with a clueless parent. “He’s only saying that because when we went to visit Lamar, he said the guy was speaking Spanish during their fight. Like Spain-Spanish.”
“Was he sure?” Anne asked. “Accents can be difficult to determine.”
“Pretty sure,” Novia said. “Lamar’s my bodyguard, but he’s also my translator. He speaks like four or five languages. Used to work at the UN. If he said the guy was speaking Spanish, then he was speaking Spanish.”
“Interesting,” Murphy muttered.
Terry’s face was grim. “Where’s Leonor?”
ANNE was in the second car that drove to Leonor’s house later that night. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting from the Spanish regent, but the ultra-modern penthouse on the Isle of Dogs was certainly not it.
“This is where she lives?” Anne asked Murphy as they pulled up to the glittering high-rise.
“I think she owns the building,” Murphy said. “Very good investment. I own property here too.”
The neighborhood was mainly industrial, but Anne could see signs of gentrification.
“Interesting.”
“What’s interesting is the fact that none of Leonor’s humans are answering their phones,” Murphy said. “I don’t like this.”
“But she checked in earlier?”
“She did.”
Anne settled back and tried not to worry. She liked Leonor, who had always been a reliable ally for her sister, Mary. But first the Spanish vampire had been cagey about sharing information with others in the meeting, and then Cormac and Novia had been attacked by a Spanish-speaking assassin. It didn’t look good.
“Terry’s angry,” Murphy said, “but this is too easy. She’s too obvious a suspect.”
“He and Gemma were attacked in her territory a year and a half ago. She’s a competitor in the blood-wine business—”
“She’s also one of their grape suppliers.”
“True. But she does know more than she’s letting on about Elixir. Maybe she’s just being cautious, but maybe not. We don’t know, Patrick.”
He shook his head. “Nothing this complicated is this neat. I think she’s being set up.”
“By whom?”
“Whoever is actually behind this.”
“Someone who knows she’s been acting suspicious?”
“Yes.”
“Then,” Anne admitted, “whoever attacked Novia and Cormac—whoever murdered Rens—is someone at the summit.”
Chapter Eighteen
MURPHY STOOD BEHIND TERRY when he knocked on the door. Four humans flanked them, and Roger stood on his left. Gemma and Anne were waiting in the lobby with four other guards, watching for anyone who might try to exit.
“Oh, I see her. She looks like a housekeeper or something,” Novia said.
“It’s the only human we see coming or going,” Brigid said. “That in itself is notable. This house, for instance, has security and servants exiting and entering throughout the day. But in the Anker house, we see no one but this old woman. A few minutes after she leaves…” Brigid waited for the recording to catch up. “The smoke is visible from the upstairs windows first, but it’s soon everywhere. An accelerant was used throughout the house. There were secured rooms in the basement, but they were gutted. There was no chance for the firefighters to save it. They focused on keeping the houses on either side from burning.”
Terry walked to Cormac. “I know your first instinct is to take your daughter and leave. Christ knows, I’d want to. And if you do that, I’ll understand, but I hope you don’t. Someone wanted you gone. That’s why they went after your girl. I want you both to be safe. Will you let my people coordinate with yours? Add some local lads?”
Cormac said nothing until Novia nudged him. “Fine,” he growled. “We’ll stay. For now. Consider this my happy mood—I had a big breakfast.”
“The question is,” Anne said, “what did both you and Rens know that made you targets for whoever is doing this?”
“Beats me,” Cormac said. “I’d never even met the man before I came here. His clan’s not welcome in my city.”
“Why not?”
Cormac looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Because I don’t want spies stirring up trouble and selling my information to the highest bidder? Who are you, anyway? You’re not Mary Hamilton, so why are you here?”
Murphy snarled. “Watch your tone, O’Brien. She’s Mary’s sister and my mate. Show some respect.”
Anne spun, her mouth open. “You presumptuous man. I can speak for myself.”
Murphy shrugged, and Brigid stifled a laugh.
“It’s true,” Murphy said. Then he smiled at Cormac. “She doesn’t always like me, but she’s still my mate. So watch your bloody mouth, O’Brien.”
“Fine.”
Anne decided to ignore Murphy. “Did you determine anything about your attacker before you killed him?”
“He tasted Spanish.”
“Dad,” Novia protested, “don’t be prejudiced.”
“What?” Cormac said. “He did. Or maybe he smelled like Spanish food. I don’t know.”
Anne thought Novia resembled a frustrated teenager dealing with a clueless parent. “He’s only saying that because when we went to visit Lamar, he said the guy was speaking Spanish during their fight. Like Spain-Spanish.”
“Was he sure?” Anne asked. “Accents can be difficult to determine.”
“Pretty sure,” Novia said. “Lamar’s my bodyguard, but he’s also my translator. He speaks like four or five languages. Used to work at the UN. If he said the guy was speaking Spanish, then he was speaking Spanish.”
“Interesting,” Murphy muttered.
Terry’s face was grim. “Where’s Leonor?”
ANNE was in the second car that drove to Leonor’s house later that night. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting from the Spanish regent, but the ultra-modern penthouse on the Isle of Dogs was certainly not it.
“This is where she lives?” Anne asked Murphy as they pulled up to the glittering high-rise.
“I think she owns the building,” Murphy said. “Very good investment. I own property here too.”
The neighborhood was mainly industrial, but Anne could see signs of gentrification.
“Interesting.”
“What’s interesting is the fact that none of Leonor’s humans are answering their phones,” Murphy said. “I don’t like this.”
“But she checked in earlier?”
“She did.”
Anne settled back and tried not to worry. She liked Leonor, who had always been a reliable ally for her sister, Mary. But first the Spanish vampire had been cagey about sharing information with others in the meeting, and then Cormac and Novia had been attacked by a Spanish-speaking assassin. It didn’t look good.
“Terry’s angry,” Murphy said, “but this is too easy. She’s too obvious a suspect.”
“He and Gemma were attacked in her territory a year and a half ago. She’s a competitor in the blood-wine business—”
“She’s also one of their grape suppliers.”
“True. But she does know more than she’s letting on about Elixir. Maybe she’s just being cautious, but maybe not. We don’t know, Patrick.”
He shook his head. “Nothing this complicated is this neat. I think she’s being set up.”
“By whom?”
“Whoever is actually behind this.”
“Someone who knows she’s been acting suspicious?”
“Yes.”
“Then,” Anne admitted, “whoever attacked Novia and Cormac—whoever murdered Rens—is someone at the summit.”
Chapter Eighteen
MURPHY STOOD BEHIND TERRY when he knocked on the door. Four humans flanked them, and Roger stood on his left. Gemma and Anne were waiting in the lobby with four other guards, watching for anyone who might try to exit.
