“There is someone,” he murmured, mind lost in the cyclone of his own realization. “But I…”
“What?” Vi demanded. “Who?”
“Erik Yolvoski.” His gaze fixed with Frank’s. “He was just a boy the last time I saw him, but he died eight years ago. There was a flood and his car was washed over a bridge. I went to his funeral. It’s not him.”
“What do you think she meant by golden arches?” Vi looked to Killian. “Did you have a fight with Ronald McDonald?”
“Whatever the significance, it ties with something you have or haven’t done, sir.” Frank raised his eyebrows in question. “Is there any place in particular you recall that may or may not have arches?”
Killian shook his head. “None that want me dead.”
Vi exhaled. “These guys clearly suck at hostage negotiation.”
“That’s because they’re toying with me,” Killian muttered, returning his attention to the window. “They have no intention of letting her go.”
“So … so, what then?” Vi whispered. “What do they want?”
Killian shook his head. “I have no idea, but we’re going to find out.”
With that, he turned and marched back to his desk. Frank moved out of the way as Killian made a straight line to his chair. He dropped into it and wheeled himself beneath the desk. He reached for a pad and pen and tossed both to Vi.
“Sit down. You’re going to help me.”
She didn’t ask how. Her butt hit the chair before he’d stopped speaking. The pen and pad were in her hand, one poised over the other as she waited for his next instructions.
“I’m going to give you a list of names,” he told her as he pulled open his bottom drawer. “You’re going to write them down and then cross them off after I’ve called them.”
Again, she asked no questions, but nodded obediently.
Killian removed the thick, leather bound book nestled at the very bottom and set it down on the desk. Over his shoulder, he heard Frank suck in a breath, but he too said nothing.
The book was as old as his name was. It had belonged to the very first McClary back before his family had moved from Ireland, back before cars and reality TV shows, back when homes were built out of sticks and mud. It was generations old and had been passed down ever since. Each McClary had taken turns marking the pages with names and dates next to a neat description of what they were owed. The thing was the size of a large phonebook and weighed a little more than a bowling ball, but it would be the thing that saved Juliette. It had to be.
Mind set, Killian opened to the first page and began to read the names out loud. The scratch of Vi’s pen filled the room. Frank stood silent as Killian worked. When it was finished, Killian closed the book and tucked it away once more. But rather than ask Vi to give him the first name, he turned to his computer. He called an emergency meeting amongst the other five organization members. None were happy about being summoned, but they listened as Killian explained the situation. It was in their right to say no and power off, but he knew they wouldn’t, not when it meant the opportunity to have Killian McClary in their debt. All five agreed to get their men in on the search. They would fan across their territories for even the hint of Juliette’s name.
“We will do this,” Theresa said once the matter had been finalized. “But I hope the north realizes what a risk we’re taking sending our men away from their posts.”
Killian had to suppress the urge to remind the woman that they’d taken an oath to protect each other against outside threats. But that was how the game was played.
“You will all be compensated for your time and assistance,” Killian replied, fighting to keep his voice even. “Please bring the people responsible to me, unharmed.”
Heads bobbed once before the square boxes blinked out, leaving his screen dark once more.
That finished, he dragged his phone over to him.
“Give me the first name on the list,” he instructed.
Vi did quickly and he dialed the number.
He hadn’t given her all the names in the book. That would have been insane, plus a lot of them were already dead. But the ones he’d selected were the eyes and ears of the underground. They knew all the right people and had all the right information. He knew mostly likely that they would not refuse. Like the organization, they stood to gain substantially from doing business with him. But that wasn’t what had made him hesitate to use the book.
“I don’t believe this is a good idea, sir,” Frank ventured. “You are well aware of the request they will make—”
“I don’t care,” Killian interrupted. “I will give them whatever they want if they can find Juliette.”
“Yes sir, but—”
“The city means nothing to me without her,” Killian said softly. “They can have it.”
Frank shut his mouth, but Killian knew exactly what the other man was thinking. Any other time, he would agree. Being the line of defense between the innocents of the city and the underbelly was a job his family had taken on for centuries. Even his father hadn’t used them to find his mother. But that was an example Killian wasn’t going to follow.
“What?” Vi glanced from one to the other. “What’s happening? Who are these people?”
Killian avoided her eye. “Give me the next number.”
These people, were the men and women Killian’s family had forcibly shoved away from the city and kept securely locked behind the shadows of the outer walls. He knew by eliciting their help, they would want their run of the city he’d fought to keep clean and protected and he was prepared to give the whole thing back to them if they brought Juliette back. To top it all off, he offered five million to the person who found her alive. That would ensure a lot of eyes to search and ears to listen.
When it was all said and done and he’d sold the last bit of his soul, Killian got to his feet just as a figure stalked into the room.
Aaron still wore his coat. There were clumps of snow clinging to his boots and his face was flushed from the cold, but he looked determined as he charged forward.
“Sir, you need to see this.”
It was Frank who stepped forward to accept the CD the man held. It wasn’t in a yellow envelope, but from the look on Aaron’s face, Killian knew he wouldn’t like whatever was on it.
“What is it?” Killian demanded as Frank popped the case open and reached to exchange one CD for another.
Aaron met his gaze, his expression tight. “It’s the surveillance video from the convenience store down on Helm Street, sir. One of my men uncovered it during our search. It shows Miss Romero getting into a black SUV.”
Killian’s muscles tightened even as his eyes shot down to the screen Frank was adjusting. “Do we know who the car belongs to?”
Aaron nodded. “Yes sir.” He paused for a full heartbeat. “It’s one of ours.”
Chapter 26
“I think we can take them.” Juliette adjusted her legs, pulling one up to her chest while the other unfurled for circulation. “We’ll just save all these bricks and throw them at their heads when they come to get us. We’ll add it to the plan.”
On the other side of the bars, Maraveet snorted. The Styrofoam plate balanced on the palm of her hand trembled slightly as she scooped slimy peas up with her plastic spoon. Unlike Juliette, who still wasn’t used to the disgusting meals, Maraveet didn’t seem to have any trouble shoveling soggy salad, runny peas, and burnt hamburger patties into her mouth. It didn’t seem to matter that she was starving. Her gag reflexes refused to let her force anything that revolting down.
“You won’t be able to throw anything if you don’t eat,” Maraveet advised.
Juliette nudged the patty with her finger. “I don’t know how you’re able to keep this stuff down.”
“The trick is not to look at it.” Maraveet took her patty up with her fingers and bit into it, filling the silence with a crunch. “Close your eyes if you have to.”