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The brunette with the tattoo on her inner thigh. The woman he joked about in the office only hours before Ma died.
My attention snaps to Fionn. “That woman took his gun. That’s why she kept flirting with him.”
Fionn steps closer to Dane. “When were you with her?”
“The night before that Harrington fucker murdered my ma.”
“Did the girl know who you were?”
“Of course she did.” Dane laughs. “She’d been circling me for weeks.”
“And you left your gun beside the bed?”
“I didn’t plan on fucking her with it.” Dane raises the bottle to his mouth. “So yeah, I left it on the bedside table.”
Fionn waits until he takes a drink. “The Gardaí have it now.”
The bottle lowers to Dane’s side. “She handed it in?”
“They recovered it from the murder scene,” Fionn continues. “Your prints are on it, the serial number leads back to you, and the ballistics confirm it fired the round that killed your mother.”
Dane stares at Fionn, the bottle hanging forgotten at his side. “That’s not possible.”
“I saw Lorcan shoot her.” My pulse pounds inside my skull. “We all know it was him.”
Fionn looks past Dane’s shoulder to the blue lights speeding along the country road toward Black Heath Stud.
“I don’t know for sure, but I’d say that girl you were with was working for my father.”
The bottle drops from Dane’s hand and hits the ground beside his boots, the last dregs of whiskey leaking over the dirt.
“Lorcan killed her,” he says. “I’d never––”
“They’re here for you.” Fionn points at the cars. “Don’t say anything without a solicitor present.”
Saint marches over to Dane and grabs his arm. “You’re not going anywhere. This is bullshit. Go inside the house.”
“No.” Fionn’s voice stops both of them.
Saint turns on him. “They’re not taking my brother.”
“If Dane runs, they’ll use it against him.”
“I’m not asking for your opinion.”
“And I’m not giving it.” Fionn holds Saint’s stare. “I’m telling you facts. They’ll arrest you as well, and Sera has to watch two more Tallons leave.”
Saint’s jaw muscles tick.
“He’s right,” I say.
Both my brothers glare at me, but I keep my attention on Dane. “You go quietly, say nothing, and let us tear their fucking case apart.”
The first Garda car pulls into the yard, followed by another, and my heart rate goes berserk. Gravel spits beneath their tires as they skid to a halt.
Fionn’s coat blows open, revealing the starched white shirt beneath and a visible trace of blood from his wound dressing.
He positions himself between Dane and the officers climbing from the cars.
