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“You’re at Windsong,” the Master stated—not a question but a statement of fact.
“I had dinner with Colby Reynolds and the target.”
“Are you sure he’s still your target?”
“I’m a little tired of your insinuations. Of course, he’s still my target. What the hell else would he be?”
“There seems to be a question of your loyalty as well as where you spent the night and with whom,” the Master said, sounding a little like an old-fashioned headmaster.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Instead of prioritizing this jerk and letting me deal with him when he was in the Middle East, you make three botched attempts and put him on high alert—not a great idea for a guy who isn’t a civilian. I had to get close to him to find the best way to accomplish this. Do you know anything at all about Mystic River?”
“I know it’s a community of shifters in a remote area of Alaska.”
“It’s on an island, Master—a fucking island. And remote doesn’t even begin to cover it. It makes Northumberland look like a destination hot spot.”
“I want him dead.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Now, Nora. I want him dead by sundown tomorrow. Do you understand me?”
“That may not be possible without being detected.”
“I don’t care about that. In fact, that might be advantageous.”
“How so?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“It’s time Reynolds learned they are not safe on their snug little island. Killing him on Reynolds’ doorstep will rattle them.”
“And I’ll be in jail until I'm a very old woman. I thought I was more valuable to you than that.”
“Have you no faith in me, Nora? I have big plans for you. I’ll have one of our assets let you out. You’re to come straight to Lundy Island, understood?”
“Only if you’re going to send me on holiday somewhere sunny after that.”
The Master chuckled. “You cats do like your time lounging in the sun.”
“I don’t know about anyone else, but I do. So, tomorrow?”
“That will suffice, and Nora,” the Master said solemnly, “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“I know what I owe you. Without you, who knows if I would even have lived to adulthood, but don’t question my loyalty again.”
“With Hutch’s blood on your hands and Reynolds putting a target on your back, you would have no place to go but to come home. Perhaps it’s time for you to leave Boston.”
“You may have a point; someplace warm where I can come and go as I please.”
“That sounds good.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Master. One last thing…”
“Yes?”
“Don’t ever put me in a position where I have to sleep with a target again. I told you the day we met I would never be your whore.”
“I remember, and I won’t.”
Nora ended the call. “Tomorrow’s the day, and I confirmed you have a mole—someone who will get me out of jail. You don’t think it’s the sheriff, do you?”
