Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“The police have assured me they’re just a small organization and this operation will take them out for good, but I didn’t want to keep this from you.”
“Murray.” I squeezed his arm in comfort. “I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying this on top of everything else.”
His expression twisted. “There’s more. I … I would do anything to protect my family, but I also need to protect the people who work for me.”
My heart thudded harder and I suddenly knew. “Oh God, you’re going to do it. Aren’t you? You’re going on that boat.”
Murray shrugged helplessly, and I hated seeing him in turmoil. “I can’t ask one of my employees to take on this risk. I can’t. Fraser and I are trained fishermen. The Walshes will understand why we want to be on the boat, and they’ll believe the police officers are real crew.”
Fear chilled my blood. “And if something happens to you?”
He suddenly cupped my face in his big palm, his skin rough from years of physical labor. As he swiped his thumb across my cheekbone, my knees trembled.
Holy fuck.
There was nothing but him, his eyes, his touch as he bent his head to mine and vowed, “I will do everything in my power to stay safe. For Kelly. For you.”
What … what did that mean? The last part. What did that mean?
“Murray—”
“Dad!” Kelly’s yell broke us apart. She burst into the kitchen, waving her phone, voice vibrating with excitement. “Can I come?”
Discombobulated by the sudden interruption to what felt like a moment, I had no idea what she was referring to and clearly neither did Murray.
“Come to what?”
“Open mic night tomorrow.” She scowled. “You didn’t tell me you were playing.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you listed on the Lantern’s website?”
“Let me see.” I leaned in to look at her phone. Sure enough, Murray’s name was on a list of only three people performing at open mic tomorrow night. “You didn’t tell me you signed up.”
“I didn’t.” Murray took the phone to peer at it. Then realization dawned on his face. “Taran.”
Despite the seriousness of our previous conversation and the confusing mixed signals this man was sending my way, a giggle escaped my lips before I could stop it.
Kelly seemed confused. “What does Ms. Macbeth have to do with it?”
“I have a feeling she went behind your dad’s back and signed him up.”
“Oh. Well, you still have to do it, Dad.”
“M’eudail, you can’t come. It starts after 8 p.m.”
“Ugh, I wish Mr. Macduff would change that stupid rule.” Kelly crossed her arms over her chest, chin lifted defiantly. “Well, you still have to do it. And London, you need to record it so I feel like I’m there.”
I looked to Murray.
He let out a huff and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Kelly raised her hand palm up to me and I laughed as we high-fived.
30. Murray
There were so many things I would rather have been doing that morning. Foremost in my mind was London and the electric air of anticipation that buzzed between us. Last night after Kelly interrupted us to inform me about my impending performance at open mic night, my daughter had insisted on helping me practice. London sat with us for a while until exhaustion had her excusing herself. Her early mornings at the B and B meant early nights in bed, which equaled not very much time for us in the evenings. No time at all to tell her that I wanted to make a go at a real relationship with her.
I didn’t want a rushed conversation with her in the morning, so I decided on a different route to tell her how I felt. This method had worked for us before, so I was willing to give it another chance.
First, I had to face Joshua Hughes for the second time.
The psychopath came over on an early-morning ferry to meet with me and Fraser at Fraser’s holiday let. It was a small cottage on the eastern peninsula where no one would notice us coming and going.
The vengeful, wrathful side of me I’d vowed to crush the day I’d beaten up my father attempted to rear his violent head as soon as Hughes walked into the cottage. Because I was pretty sure I could kill this motherfucker right here and now and Fraser would help me get rid of the body.
It was an awful, desperate thought, but that’s what happened when evil threatened everything you held dear.
We handed over our devices like last time, but Hughes gestured toward the door. “Let’s talk outside.”
Had their paranoia finally set in? The recording device DC McCubbins had provided was taped under the kitchen breakfast table. There was nothing else for it but to head outside or draw suspicion.
“You made the right decision,” Hughes stated as soon as Fraser and I had joined him in the front garden. It was less of a garden than a small field that abutted Farmer Kippin’s land.