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“For the same reason you’re trying to figure out Alison’s note: to find Alison and her father.”
“How would they know where they are? The missing-pinky guy was only there to do the handoff, you said.”
The agent shrugs. “Maybe they just wanted to silence them.”
“But why go to the trouble to torture them?” Poppy replies. “The UK detective said it was a horror show.”
“Like I said, maybe he knew something that would help track down Alison and her father.”
Poppy thinks of Dash saying how the sheriff and Poppy’s father arrived at Suncatcher Lake that night. Chased after the man with the missing pinkies. What if the man, like Dash, had watched what unfolded that night? What if he identified the sheriff at the lake that night and told O’Leary’s man? Poppy has a sinking feeling.
“I think the sheriff was helping Alison’s father. They have a history.” Poppy tells her about their military service, leaving out that her father was also on the bomb squad with the sheriff and Alison’s father. Then she lets Fincher know that Sheriff Walton is AWOL.
“If they knew about the sheriff and told O’Leary’s man…”
“They’ll try to get the sheriff to tell them where to find Michael and Alison Lane,” Poppy finishes the thought.
“You say the sheriff hasn’t checked in?”
“That’s right. I was planning to go do a wellness check right now.”
Agent Fincher blows out a breath.
“What?”
“Go to his house, but…”
“But what?”
“But don’t expect to ever see the sheriff again.”
70
CORDES-SUR-CIEL, FRANCE
Michael looks at his daughter and Ryan Richardson, who sit at the small kitchen table. The wooden top is marred with scratches and imperfections, charming in the way only a French table can be. Ryan keeps calling his daughter Alison, but Michael can only see her as Sophia now. A survival mechanism: Never look back. Sophia is somewhere between shock and anger. She’s refusing to leave their home, their life. But Michael knows there’s no choice.
Sophia delivers another outburst at Michael in French: “He should go. He’s not part of this. This is on us,” she says about the boy—he’s a man now—and Michael understands the despair. In some ways, she’s right. Ryan didn’t know Anthony O’Leary, he didn’t take Shane O’Leary’s money. But there’s no question, he’s part of this.
Michael considers their options. How can he get his daughter her life—her third life in less than a decade—back? He could contact Shane O’Leary, try to buy his way out. Twenty million is a lot of money, even for O’Leary. But Shane’s brother was right: this is about much more than money. And even if there had been a chance to buy their way out before, that ended when Michael blew O’Leary’s brother into a million pieces.
Michael dials Ken’s burner phone again, but there’s still no answer. It confirms what Brian O’Leary told him. Ken’s gone.
He continues to kick around his options. If O’Leary won’t make a deal, there’s a more direct and violent option. He’d sworn after Iraq that he’d never take another life, but that bridge has been crossed and burned. He could travel to Philadelphia and blow O’Leary’s Tavern and his home to pieces. Vaporize the man and his entire crew. The authorities would blame rival gangs. And maybe the blood debt would end there. But there is no guarantee that it would keep his daughter safe. Not to mention, it’s an extreme course, one that would likely make national news in the U.S. and prompt widescale investigations.
Michael paces. “I need to get back to the gallery.”
“Why?” his daughter says.
“To clean it up.” He doesn’t need to specify that he must dispose of the man’s body.
His daughter stares at the wooden table again. The red ligature marks around her neck wreck Michael every time he looks at her.
“Afterward, we have to leave Cordes-sur-Ciel,” he tells her. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she says.
Michael looks at Ryan, hoping his daughter’s long-ago boyfriend can convince her that there’s no staying in Cordes. At least for now. Once O’Leary’s men don’t check in, more will be on the way.