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“What’s wrong with her?”

“Don’t know. Stomach bug or something? She was sick at the gallery too.”

“You don’t suppose somebody tainted her food or drink, do you?”

I pondered the idea, even though it made me see red. “I can’t rule it out completely. Paul Langley needs a checking into. He does have her old mobile number and he was there at the gala, but he uses her new number now. You know, on second thought, he handed her a glass of water.” I wanted to get that prick in a room alone. I could find out all kinds of things, I’m sure. I tried to focus on my conversation with Neil. “The thing is, whoever sent the text message was there. Maybe not inside at the event, but he was watching me have a smoke. And that alarm was set off just a moment or two after the music video was sent.”

“Langley checked out when you looked into him before.”

“Don’t remind me, please.” If that motherfucker was involved, I swear he was a dead man. Brynne and I needed to talk about her history with Langley, a prospect that felt even more unpleasant than last night’s fiasco. “Just see what you can find out. Any luck on the

caller location to Brynne’s mobile?” I’d left it for Neil to investigate, determined to have a weekend without focus on her situation or my job.

“Some. The call was made from inside the UK. Whoever called her mobile was most likely watching you in real time and not on web cam from the States. I’m guessing you were thinking that was a possibility?”

“Fuck.” A smoke was sounding very appealing right about now. “A long shot, but I hoped. Well, it’s not Oakley then, he’s active duty in Iraq. Lurking around London would be a stretch when he’s dodging missiles in the desert. It’s not Montrose either, because he’s taking a well-deserved dirt nap. So that leaves the third in the video. That cocksucker is next on my list. We’ve got nothing on him yet. The file is accessible on the Q drive. His vitals are all there. Can you do a bit of digging on him? Find out what he’s been up to lately? Make sure he’s not been using his passport. Um . . . name is Fielding. Justin Fielding, twenty-seven, living in Los Angeles, if memory serves. I want to know if he went to the funeral for Montrose too. I’m betting he made scarce—”

“I got this, E,” Neil interrupted. “Have your weekend and try to let all this shit lie for a bit. I’ll get into it for you. Right now you have her safe and out of the loop. Nothing’s going to happen from Somerset.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it. Oh, yeah, can you toss some feed in for Simba?”

“He doesn’t like me,” Neil said dryly.

“He doesn’t like me either, but he does like being fed. And if you don’t he’ll start eating his tankmates.”

“All right. I’ll feed your surly and poisonous fish.”

“You don’t have to cuddle him, just throw in some krill.”

“Easier said than done. That creature is part piranha, I am sure.”

I laughed at that image. “Thank you, brave soldier, for going into battle for me by feeding my fish.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Hold down the fort for us, and you know how to reach me. We’ll be back in town Monday evening.”

I ended the call and headed out of the bedroom, eager to find Brynne. Time to face my girl and see what trouble I was in this morning from all of my bad behavior last night. I wasn’t really worried, though. My baby loves me, and I know how to give her what she needs . . .

I smirked to myself at my smug thoughts, opened the bedroom door and nearly stepped on my niece.

Zara was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, waiting for me apparently. I caught my balance and crouched down to meet her at face level.

“Finally, you’ve come out,” she said disgustedly.

“Sorry. I had to make a telephone call, but I’m done now.”

She looked up at me hopefully. “Can we go get ice creams now? You said you would.”

“It’s morning still. Ice cream is for the afternoons, I’m sure.”

She wrinkled her cute little nose at me in response. I guess she didn’t share that pragmatic view.

I pointed to my cheek. “I did not get a nice welcome yet from my favorite princess.”

She reached up, put her little arms around my neck and kissed my cheek.

“That’s better,” I said. “Would you like a ride?” I gestured to my back.

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