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Senior had been a part of this?
“Eamonn? As in Eamonn Keegan? The leader of the ECD?”
As Michael nodded, my brow furrowed in consternation.Keegan?As in Aoife’s maiden name?
“She was off her meds,” he rasped. “A bullet just waiting to be aimed at someone. A ticking time bomb about to go off.
“I directed her at the target and just waited for it to happen.” He started coughing, great hacking coughs that had him tensing against his restraints. “If she didn’t do it, I was prepared to jump in,” he croaked out, “but I was pretty sure she would. Your ma’s violent. It doesn’t come out often, but when it does, she’s just as bad as any of us.”
Hadn’t I seen that with my own eyes?
Hadn’t I seen her stamp her fucking heel into the Archbishop’s eye before Christmas?
There was no denying Lena had it in her to do shit like that. No denying it whatsoever.
“Was Elizabeth Davidson involved?” Conor asked.
The First Lady?
“N-No, of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“Because Ma told me that was what tipped her over the edge.” Conor stared into the camera, and it was like he was looking straight at me. “Elizabeth told Ma that Alan had investigated Da and had found out that Michelle was his mistress.”
Totally confused, I watched as Michael shrieked when another surge of electricity flayed him alive.
“I think you’re lying to me, Michael,” Conor said grimly. “Is Elizabeth Davidson a part of the ECD?”
“NO!” Michael screamed. “I don’t know anything about that—”
“I don’t believe you. Especially not after today’s news. The ECD wanted Michelle dead for a reason. Why?”
Today’s news?
Oh, Christ. That bullshit from the White House about Davidson supporting a unified Ireland.
Fuck.
“There were reports of her and Alan Davidson cozying up to each other again.”
My brows rose.
“Was Aoife a target too?”
Because she was Davidson’s daughter.
“Y-Yes,” Michael stammered.
“If she was a target, why didn’t you take her out?”
“I couldn’t get to her after Michelle was dead. She had guards on her.”
Guards?
“Do you know who the guards were hired by?”
“No. But they kept a discreet distance—” He paused, and his tongue made a clicking noise before he pleaded, “Water. Please, Conor. I need water.”
Kid grabbed a bottle and allowed a thin trickle of water to stream into Michael’s mouth.
