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Now she had another plan: She would have to paint another mural while Liam was in jail.
She was tempted to do it in Malcolm’s hometown, but it would be painted over quickly, reducing its local impact. Also, Watertown’s Garda might be patrolling more heavily, anticipating the move.
She needed time and space to think, but she didn’t feel like she could slip away from this depressing soiree. Wouldn’t everyone think it was weird if she didn’t want to stay to discuss what to do to get Liam out or increase public outrage, both as his girlfriend and the media director for the center?
“The lawyers still haven’t been told where this special Garda unit is keeping Liam,” Linc announced loudly, clicking off his phone.
Her stomach dropped to the floor. Every conversation stopped.
“But how it that legal?” Bets cried out.
Taylor looked over as Linc rubbed the back of his neck. The poor man had been on the phone nonstop with Bets stalking around him, her face going from an angry red to crestfallen white as her mood vacillated.
Taylor could only feel rage. She’d thought back to Liam asking her to promise not to tell them she was Veritas. She’d gone back and forth on it before the “breaking news” report about her social media post hit, only thirty minutes after she’d posted as Veritas. Now she suspected that even if she came forward and said she was Veritas, this special unit wouldn’t believe her.
TheywantedVeritas to be someone directly associated with the founding members of the arts center. Malcolm’s blackmail call to Bets had made that crystal clear, and Taylor’s respect for the woman had gone through the roof when they’d all listened to the taped conversation. Of course, the lawyers had sent it to the Garda along with copies of Liam’s passport pages, but clearly the beady-eyed head of the Veritas unit was Malcolm’s pawn. They didn’t think it would go anywhere. Malcolm had every base covered.
“Nothing about this is particularly legal,” Linc nearly spat after a moment, looking about as unhinged as she expected was possible. “What hard evidence do they think they have? The charge is asinine with a capitalA! And all we’re doing is sitting on our butts as that boy is in jail.”
His voice broke then, and Bets pressed her hand to her mouth, tears filling her eyes. Taylor bit her lip as emotion flooded the room, the observers’ faces overcome with a crestfallen pain she was afraid showed on her own.
“I’ll never forgive myself for this,” Linc said at last. “Bets, I’m sorry. I promised you Liam would be safe and I’ve failed you both.”
“Never.”
She had to look away as they hugged each other fiercely, their anguish touching a chord inside her. She couldn’t give in to the emotion—she needed to focus. Doing a new mural had to work. It had to.
“None of my friends know anything.” Donal broke the silence, pocketing his phone and putting an arm around Ghislaine’s waist. “I’ve called every person I know who might know something or someone to call. Malcolm has this locked down to a circle we don’t have access to.”
“We’ll just have to keep upping our media reach,” Ghislaine said, patting his massive chest. “Bets, I think we put you on every major morning show we can.”
“And have me say what?” Bets faced her, looking as small and helpless as Taylor felt. “I’m supposed to cry on TV while I tell people my son isn’t Veritas. That this big bad guy named Malcolm Coveney is behind it?”
Taylor thought that was a great way to lead off.
“He’ll have you in jail next for defamation,” Linc ground out.
“I don’t care!” she practically shouted, shocking the group. “Put me in jail. I couldn’t close the arts center down to save Liam, but I can speak for him. I’ll yell from the rafters to anyone who’ll listen to get him out.”
Donal crossed to Linc, and the way he laid his hand on the man’s shoulder conveyed a deep friendship. “We all want to protect Bets, Linc, but there’s merit to what Ghislaine is thinking. Of course, it makes sense to talk to the lawyers first. We need to be clear about what we can say.”
“It won’t matter,” Taylor said softly, drawing everyone’s gaze. “Malcolm has been ready for everything so far. We need to take him down a different way. I’m going to call Arthur again.”
She’d called him with an update after the sheep were found, knowing he’d like an update, but now she wanted to dive forward with his article to take Malcolm down.
“What did he say after you called him with news of the sheep?” Bets asked, crossing to her in a charged line of tension.
“He said it was reprehensible.” But his gruff tone had conveyed a deeper grief, one felt by a man who’d seen too much cruelty. “Then he told me he was working as fast as possible but uncovering this kind of wrongdoing didn’t happen overnight.”
She’d finally stared down the fact that a story like this could take months to research and write. It wasn’t like Malcolm was stupid. He’d have covered his tracks well. They needed to speed things up now that Liam was in custody, though—that was a must—and it would require resources. More manpower.
Then it hit her! “I should go down to Kinsale and help Arthur on-site. I’m a good reporter, and under his guidance, I can follow threads quickly. We can’t just leave Liam in jail!”
Bets touched her arm, her blue eyes swimming with tears.
Taylor took a breath as everyone stared at her. She could all but feel their pity and concern. Her soulmate was in jail. She was a complete mess, and they obviously knew. “I’m okay,” she told everyone.
“No, you’re not,” Bets said, her voice breaking. “You love my son, and he loves you.”
