“Did the detective find anything from that email?”
“The email was no longer available. The website forEvent Photographywas erased as though it had never been. No searches provided any leads.”
Patrick’s insides froze. Had that maniac been at Wolves? “What do you think?”
“I think Samuel Delton was there that night. I think he was in disguise. I think we stood next to him and never knew it. This man is a psychopath, but he’s also brilliant.”
“If hewasthere... my God, I left River alone to screw around.”
“That aside, Patrick, Delton has not given up. He isn’t hiding in a dark corner. He is still actively coming for your family, and I assume the O’Connors as well. I spoke with Mr. O’Connor before we boarded. We will keep the same team in Dublin, but he wants protection added to James and Jane.”
“Is the FBI still hunting him because of his dark web shit?”
“Yes. All the information from the editor and the blogger have been sent. The security cameras from Wolves are being analyzed now. They hope to peg Sam in the crowd, disguise or no. They have facial recognition software that should flag him no matter the costume,” he sighed, “but this guy is a professional. His school records before moving online show he had extremely high marks in business classes, but he also excelled in art.”
Ahh, Patrick understood. His disguises might be good enough to fool software. “Why exactly is the FBI interested in him?”
Thomas stared at him for a moment before answering. “I found out,” he stated grimly. “Rape. He videos himself drugging and raping women. Sick fucks rent his videos on the dark web.”
“Jesus. Have you told Dad and Bran?” They would be frantic.
“I just got the intel before takeoff. I plan on meeting with you three, Mr. O’Connor and James, by video, and my men as soon as it can be arranged tomorrow afternoon. I want to make sure the O’Connors can attend, and they’ll be six hours earlier than us.”
“I understand.” Patrick rubbed his head. It ached worse with each revelation. “You realize, at least for now, River will not let me help keep her safe?” A crushing sense of despair threatened to drown him.
“They will be properly guarded. At all times.” Patrick nodded his gratitude. “At our meeting, I plan on discussing with Hugh and Mr. O’Connor the necessity of telling the women of Delton’s crimes. They need to know. They’ll understand the heightened safety protocols if they understand the gravity of the situation.”
“I agree.” Patrick looked at MacGregor then. “I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for how well you guard our families. I truly appreciate you and your people.”
Thomas nodded. Accepting the thanks. “For what it’s worth, in my time around your family, I wouldn’t describe O’Faolains as quitters. Is that a correct assumption?”
“Yes.”
“Then I hope you stop beating yourself up sooner than later. I learned that lesson the hard way. In the military, I lost friends, good friends, and I almost lost myself to anger and regret.”
“How did you get over it?”
“My Granny. I had some leave and went home to visit. During dinner one night, she hit me upside the head with a wooden spoon. Hard. The spoon was covered in stew, by the way. I was pissed and asked her why she did it. Mind me now, Pat, I had been all but impossible to be around.
“She’d had enough of my attitude apparently— asked me if being an arsehole would bring my friends back. I admitted it wouldn’t. While wiping bits of tatties and gravy from my scalp, Granny told me that the way to honor my friends was to remember them. Blaming myself put the focus on me. Not them.
“She was right. I wallowed in guilt that I shouldn’t have even been carrying. I was getting in my way. Focus on your goal and then do everything you can to achieve it. It’s the only thing men like us, who care deeply, can do to carry on.”
Patrick had the goal and the beginning of a game plan, but Macgregor was right. Wallowing in pity only put the focus on himself. “Thank you, MacGregor. I’m working on a plan, and I have no intention of losing.”
12
Four score and seven years ago...
Try four days and seven hours ago. That’s when River’s heart burned up, her hopes and dreams nothing but ash.
She’d gone to the blogger’s website to see the photos for herself. They’d been removed. River was angry at first and then relieved. Everybody knows self-flagellation is only a good idea if you want to look as miserable on the outside as you feel on the inside. She truly never wanted to see the photos again, but she wouldn’t have minded them staying up a bit longer if only to haunt Patrick.
First thing this morning, Raven let her know that Jo and Honey were coming in late tomorrow. Patrick was flying with them.
“What? Why?” River’s shoddily constructed emotion box was weakening.
Holding up her ‘hold your roll’ hand, Raven admitted, “Yeah, I was pissed until Jo explained that James had said he could. She wasnothappy. He’ll be lucky to survive hours in a confined area with Jo.”
