Half an hour later, Allison sat on a bench in the back of the cemetery, near two yellow backhoes behind her brother’s grave. Despite the drama in the church, she was focused on something else: someone had carved a broken daisy in the back of Danny’s headstone and planted rosemary, thistle, and lilies of the valley around the base.
Then she remembered Stuart’s receipt from the garden center.
While she rubbed her forehead, hoping to ward off a headache, Nicholas Trott lay at her feet, a vision of contrition.
Maddie and Susan stood by the entrance of the graveyard. Heyward was waving his hands around, yelling at Maddie. Across the street, Detective Waring talked to a tour guide—and twenty tourists—in front of Pirate House. The other congregants had gone home. Probably to share Isabel’s letter all over social media.
Thunder clapped so loudly the ravens in a nearby tree took flight. Allison raised her face to the incoming storm. From the flashes of lightning in the distance, this one would be intense.
A bolt of lightning hit nearby, followed immediately by an enormous thunder clap, when Vivienne appeared to pet the dog. “How is Nicholas Trott?”
“Very unfulfilled, I expect.”
On cue, Nicholas Trott wheezed.
Vivienne sat next to Allison. “How are you?”
That was a hell of a question. She had so many words to choose from: embarrassed, humiliated, horrified, broken-hearted, angry. But instead of going with a descriptor, she chose an action. “Ready to end this.”
“I can only imagine you want to find that treasure and shove it up Isabel’s bony ass.”
Allison burst out laughing. “I’d like that, actually. Once we save Emilie, of course.”
Vivienne took Allison’s hand. “Tonight should give you hope. This was a desperate move on Isabel’s part. She humiliated you, but she also showed a side of herself to the very society from whom she craves approval.”
“Isabel doesn’t need anyone’s approval.”
“Nonsense. We all seek approval, Isabel more than most. She’s trying to throw you off-kilter. She knows that if you work with Zack, stay close to Zack, you may actually succeed in finding the treasure and saving Emilie.”
Zack came out of the church and strode through the cemetery in their direction. Even from here, she could almost hear his deep, forceful breaths.
Vivienne squeezed Allison’s hand. “I do have one favor to ask you, dear.”
Allison squeezed back. “What is it?”
“Don’t break my godson’s heart.”
* * *
Isabel stood in the cemetery on the other side of the church and waited for Clayborne.
While reading Stuart’s letter might have made her a pariah for the rest of the social season, it wouldn’t last long. In fact, she expected the ruckus over her affair with Stuart to end by Halloween. Thanksgiving at the latest.
“I have to say, Isabel Rutledge”—Clayborne appeared behind her—“you don’t disappoint.”
She turned and felt a single raindrop on her cheek. There wasn’t much time before this storm hit, and from the dark cloud cover, it promised violence. “I think the dog’s reaction, and my tripping, worked in my favor.”
Clayborne took out a cigarette and lit it. “It did add to the drama.”
“What happened with Pastor Tom?”
“He’s in a coma. I interrogated him harder than I realized. Unfortunately, he had no new information regarding the appendix.”
“If he wakes, will he be able to name you?”
“No.” Clayborne studied her with narrowed eyes. “Do you hate Allison so much that you’re willing to risk Remiel’s wrath? You may be his favorite, but that doesn’t mean he won’t punish you. He doesn’t like this kind of spectacle.”
And what did Clayborne know of Remiel that she didn’t? “I can handle Remiel.”
“You haven’t answered my question. Why do you hate Allison? Is it because she’s everything you’re not?”
Isabel waved a hand as another raindrop fell on it. “Allison is weak, and I despise all weak things. She broke Stuart’s heart.”
“So did you. When Stuart realized you were only using him to find the treasure for Remiel, he was devastated. You betrayed him. He died knowing he’d betrayed his wife for a woman who doesn’t understand the meaning of love.”
Isabel took the cigarette out of his mouth, tossed it down, and ground it out with her shoe. Who was Clayborne to lecture her about anything? “Any word on the appendix?”
“No. Although I saw Horatio hovering around the other side of the church. I have a man following him now.”
She closed her eyes and chewed her bottom lip.
“And,” Clayborne said, “scuttlebutt on John’s Island says that Vivienne Beaumont has filed a flight plan for her newly acquired private jet parked at the airfield. Manifest lists Zack Tremaine and Allison Pinckney. They leave for New Orleans in thirty minutes.”
Isabel opened her eyes and texted her New Orleans crew.
Clayborne came closer. “Do you think they tracked the appendix there?”
“No idea.” Isabel slipped her phone into her purse. “Can you follow them? See if they both get on that plane and text me when you know.”
“Do you think your little stunt here tonight will tear the lovers apart?”
“My stunt was designed to remind Allison that risking her heart will only lead to humiliation. Even if they go to New Orleans together, Allison will pull away from Zack emotionally. It’s what she does.”
Clayborne started to leave only to pause at the gate. “Did you make that phone call?”
“I did. Kells Torridan should be busy proving to his overlords that he can control his men, while at the same time realizing he can’t.”
“Remember, Tremaine is part of a team. Teams stick together and help one another. Especially Green Berets. It’s their jam.”
Their jam? “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that while you try to destroy Allison emotionally and turn Kells’s unit into chaos, you may want a backup plan.”
One thing about Clayborne? He was a forward thinker. She glanced at the church and saw Alex inside, alone, on his phone. “Got it.”
* * *
Alex sat in a back pew of the church and answered his phone on the third ring.
“Alex? It’s Luke.”
“Just so you know,” Alex said, “we’re not coming back until this thing is done.”
Now that the church was empty and someone had dimmed the lights, he craved the quiet peace offered by the cold space and lighted candles that still illuminated the perimeter.
“You and Zack have to get back here. Kells got a call from one of his contacts. He knows—kind of—what you’re doing and is on the warpath. If you and Zack don’t get back here soon, Kells may burn this place down. He’s that angry.”
“Then make sure you don’t tell him that Zack and Allison are on their way to New Orleans to find that appendix or Mercy Chastain. Maybe both.”
“Jeez.” Luke sighed heavily. “What am I going to say to the rest of the men?”
“Tell them Zack is getting his happy on and will be home as soon as possible. They won’t begrudge him that.”
“You don’t think that Zack and Allison are…happy. Do you?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does to Kells. He wants you and Zack to come home without Allison.”
“And Emilie? I’m guessing he knows about that too?”
“Kells doesn’t believe the Fianna will give her to Remiel.”
“Kells is wrong.” Alex saw Vivienne Beaumont enter the church and added, “Buy us twelve more hours. Make shit up. I gotta go.”
Vivienne Beaumont sat next to Alex and used a prayer card to fan herself. “Alex, did you encourage Isabel to do what she did tonight?”
Will I ever find any peace? “Fuck no. That bitch stole five years of my life. Why would I have anything to do with her?”
“Because once upon a time, while your brother was fighting for his position as Prince of the Fianna, you begged me to introduce you to Isabel. Determined to get to Remiel, you became her lover. You were quite besotted.”
“If you believe I had any feelings other than contempt for Isabel, you’re not nearly as good at your job as you believe.” Disgusted, Alex headed for the side door. She followed and he added, “Have you told Zack that you introduced me and Isabel? Helped me get close to Remiel?”
No, Alex hadn’t mentioned it because Zack was a good guy who believed in those he loved.
“Of course not. Zachariah knows very little about the people with whom I do business.”
Alex slipped into the cemetery and chose a spot where he could watch Susan and Nicholas Trott deal with Maddie’s ass of an ex-husband. Then he got a text from Zack.
On our way to the airport. Left the dog with Maddie. Will check in once we land.
Alex responded: OK.
Vivienne stood next to Alex. Detective Waring was talking to a group of people who stood near the cemetery gates twenty yards away. The thunder was getting louder.
They had ten minutes, maybe less, before the rain started.
Then there was Maddie in a black wraparound dress that tied at the waist. The kind that fell off with one tug of the bow. “What do you know about Maddie’s husband?”
“He’s an adulterer and a liar.” Vivienne grabbed Alex’s arm with a surprising amount of strength. “Stay away from them. Maddie is a friend of mine, and I adore Susan. They don’t need the kind of trouble that comes with you and this struggle between the Prince and Remiel.”
Unfortunately, Vivienne was right. “I have to agree with you.”
She backed up a few steps. “If there’s anything you need…”
“Like what?”
“According to my sources, you were in solitary off and on for five years. You must be lonely. I know women who’d be willing to help.”
She has to be kidding. “I can find my own dates, Vivienne. Besides, the last thing I need is to be on the other side of a favor from you.”
Because he understood, even if Zack didn’t yet, how the favor game played out. When it came to people like Aidan, Remiel, Isabel, and Vivienne, leverage was everything. Alex had tried to warn Kells, all those years ago, but Kells believed in right and wrong with no space in between for compromise. Unfortunately, that space in between the trenches—that no man’s land—was where one found most of the casualties.
“Alex, may I make a suggestion?”
“Why not?” She was going to anyway.
“Go back to Savannah. Leave Remiel alone.”
“You know what he is, Vivienne. You know what he does.”
“I do. I also know that, so far, you’ve paid the steepest price in this war.”
He’d once believed that, but after seeing the suffering Remiel caused Kells’s men, Alex had changed his mind. “I may have lost five years, I might also be the most antisocial and most violent of all of Kells’s men, but I haven’t lost hope. If I’m going to kill Remiel—for real—I need all the hope I can muster.”
“If that’s your goal, then I’m not asking you to leave Maddie alone. I’m telling you. If you go near her, encourage her in any way, I will find a way to stop you.”
He frowned at Vivienne. “Encourage her? What kind of man do you think I am?”
She smiled up at him. “Antisocial. Violent. According to Isabel, the best lover she’s ever had. Oh, and determined to commit murder.”
He scoffed. “Murder as a public service. There’s a difference.”
“Remiel won’t think so.”
Alex heard loud voices. Heyward had taken Maddie’s arm and she shook him off.
“Are we done, Vivienne?”
“For now.” Vivienne left him and he watched as her driver pulled up across the street, near Detective Waring with that mob of tourists.
Vivienne’s car drove away. Maddie and her husband were still arguing.
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you, but you’re quite popular tonight.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me. Alex turned to see Isabel behind him and said, “Go. Away.”
Isabel ignored him, of course. “Are you interested in the Ashton women?”
“No. I’m watching the crazy across the street.”
“Apparently, those tourists and their tour guide saw a ghost. Detective Waring is trying to calm everyone down.”
“What do you want, Isabel?”
“Maybe I just need a friend.”
He snorted. “Call Remiel.”
“Heyward may be wealthy and connected, but he’s a selfish, arrogant ass.” Isabel came closer and whispered, “Heyward has a violent streak. He reminds me of Remiel.”
Alex moved away from Isabel’s sickening sandalwood scent just as Maddie’s husband grabbed Susan’s wrist.
Alex stomped over. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do or say. He wasn’t even sure why he was getting involved when he knew it would only cause problems. He just couldn’t watch another man act like his father.
Maddie reached for her husband’s arm. “Let go of Susan.”
“Mom.” Susan pulled her mother’s skirt. “I want to go home with you. Nicholas Trott has to sleep in my bed with me and Mrs. Pickles or else he cries.”
“That’s absurd,” her father said. “Stop being a baby. You’re coming home with me.”
“No!”
Maddie held Susan against her body. “We need to reschedule, Heyward. Susan is upset and I won’t force her to go with you.”
Heyward pointed at Maddie. “This is why I’m going for full custody.”
“You’ll never get full custody,” Maddie said in a barely there voice. “I won’t allow it.”
He took Susan’s wrist again and yanked. “Get in the car.”
Alex stepped out of the shadows. “When a woman says no, she means no. Even if she’s only almost-eight.”
“Who the hell are you?” Heyward released Susan. His face twisted into a mask of contempt, exposing his insecurity and arrogance—two dangerous traits that turned a man into a bully.
Alex never could abide bullies.
“That’s Mr. Mitchell,” Susan said with her face against Maddie’s dress. “He’s my friend.”
Heyward’s laugh sounded menacing. “Why would a grown man want to be friends with a little girl?”
Alex’s fist slammed into Heyward’s jaw with the force of a rocket launcher. Heyward fell to his knees. The pain in Alex’s knuckles and arm made him blink a few times. Other than that and a few shakes of his hand, he was the pin-up boy for calm and collected.
“Alex!” Maddie took his wrist. “Why did you do that?”
“Because your ex is an ass.”
“That ass”—Maddie waved at Heyward on the ground—“is going to file for full custody.”
Heyward struggled to stand, with a red mark forming on his jaw. “I’m going to win, too.”
“What’s going on?” Detective Waring crossed the street and did the gaze-dance between Alex and Heyward.
Heyward pointed at Alex. “He hit me.”
The last time Alex had been ratted on had been in the prison yard, after a knife fight with a rapist. But because no one in prison liked tattletales, the ratter never made it back to his cell. Unfortunately, in the real world where everything was upside-down, tattlers were the good guys.
Detective Waring looked at Alex. “Did you assault Heyward?”
“No.” Alex rocked back on his heels. He didn’t need SAT words to redefine his actions. “I hit him.”
Waring looked at Heyward. “Do you want to press charges?”
“Hell yes.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Maddie said. “Heyward was hurting Susan and accused Alex of awful things.”
“I would never hurt my daughter,” Heyward said.
“I didn’t see what happened.” Waring took out his handcuffs, and Alex turned around. “But we can talk about it down at the station. Mr. Ashton, meet me there.”
Alex held his hands behind his back and winked at Susan.
Susan cried and looked up at her mother. “I don’t want Mr. Mitchell to go to jail.”
“It’ll be okay, Susan.” Maddie lifted her gaze and met his. “Do you need a lawyer, Mr. Mitchell?”
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”
Waring dragged Alex to the patrol car. Once they drove away, he noticed two things. On the right side of the road, near the iron gate that led to Pirates Courtyard, he saw Horatio hit his chest with his fist and bow his head.
High praise from a Fianna warrior? Perfect.
On Alex’s left, he noticed Isabel holding up her phone. She was filming him and had probably recorded his fight with Heyward. As they drove by, she dropped the phone into her purse. He didn’t need to ask what she’d done. He knew. She’d sent his defense of Susan and Maddie to Remiel.
Now Remiel would know Alex was interested.