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“I’m sure, Peter. Call back the chopper. You keep digging in London, and I’ll find our shooters.”
The men said their goodbyes, and Morgan walked back to the Range Rover’s open
door. “We’re staying in Wales,” he told the two women, before focusing on Lewis. “I need to talk to the Princess.”
Chapter 24
JACK MORGAN ENTERED the stables of Llwynywermod, the acidic tang of dung and straw thick in his nostrils. Three beautiful horses stood proudly in their stalls. Tallest amongst them was a magnificent chestnut mare—Princess Caroline was lifting a polished saddle onto its back.
“Tennessee Walker.” Morgan smiled, recognizing the breed. “She looks fantastic.”
“You know horses?” Princess Caroline moved the saddle into position. “Come out with me, if you like. You can take Felix here. He’s a great ride.”
Morgan held his tongue, and she took that as him thinking over the offer.
He wasn’t. “I’d rather we just get to the truth, Your Highness. Sophie Edwards is a prostitute, and a blackmailing one at that.”
If Morgan had harbored doubts about this dark side of Sophie—and he had—those doubts were dispelled by the look on the royal’s face. It was not a look of shock, but one of being caught—a child with a hand in the cookie jar.
“She was,” Caroline admitted. She let go of the saddle’s strap she was tightening and stood upright. “She was,” she said again, putting emphasis on the past tense.
Morgan shook his head. “A man killed himself last week, Your Highness. Private have been investigating his death, and we found evidence of blackmail. We believe Sophie is behind it.”
“Sir Tony Lightwood,” Princess Caroline said quietly.
“You knew him?”
“No. I… I read about it in the papers.”
“He killed himself in shame over videos that we believe were, and still are, in Sophie’s possession. And now she’s missing. Did she do that to hide and protect herself, or has someone else made her disappear?”
“That’s why I hired you, Mr. Morgan, to find these things out. The reasons aren’t important. She just needs to be found.”
In their stalls the horses began to twitch with nerves. Empathetic animals, they could sense the building charge of tension between the two people.
“The reasons are everything, Your Highness, and I need to know yours. Was Sophie blackmailing you?” Morgan asked bluntly.
“No!” she replied, offended.
“Then just what is your relationship with her?” he pressed, his gut telling him there was more. Much more.
“Friendship, Jack.”
“There’s enough horseshit in here already, Caroline. Please don’t waste my time.”
For a moment the Princess was silent. “Is it that you’re not used to conversing with royalty,” she finally managed, “or that you just don’t care about protocol?”
Morgan put a calming hand on the horse’s nose. “I’m here to find Sophie, and I can’t do that if I’m kept in the dark.”
“I swear, Jack, Sophie was not blackmailing me.”
“But if she was, it would suit you to have Sophie found, and silenced.”
To Morgan’s surprise, she let out a bark of laughter. “Half of my bodyguard are SAS, Jack, and they are devoted to me. If we lived in this fantasy where I want people silenced, don’t you think I’d go to them?”
Morgan said nothing, and Caroline shook her head, the laughter gone. “Hurting Sophie is the last thing on my mind. I just want her found, Jack. Please, find her.”
“I’ll find her,” Morgan promised. Then, as he walked from the stables and out beneath a gray sky, he made another promise to himself.
