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Lucian
My phone buzzes, and I glance down, frowning to see Friedrich’s phone number flashing across the screen. It’s rare that he calls my phone for anything, so I’m guessing this is important. I answer it on the third ring.
“Lucian, I just got off the phone with our contact, who has been in touch with Mr. Boyd. It seems you were wrong about his offspring. There is one illegitimate child who might prove to be of some interest to our study.”
Doesn’t surprise me. Boyd had a number of affairs during the course of his marriage. Probably got a prostitute knocked up. “And what does this mean now?” I ask.
“It means he might be worth considering, given his background. She appears to be young but has a bit of a history herself. Her mother was a student of his, who apparently passed away just recently.”
A student of Boyd’s. Local girl, then. “Who is it, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Her name is Isadora Qui
Motherfuck, fuck. Muscles burning with tension, I curl my hand to a tight fist at the thought at the thought of Friedrich getting his on Isa. They’ll lock her up and study her like a guinea pig, like they did me, or worse, like Melody Lachlan, rocking in the corner with a pile of dead birds on the floor. “Do you have her now?”
“No. Not at the moment. He mentioned that he’ll get back to us after he’s had the opportunity to talk to the girl. In the meantime, I’ve dispatched someone to Tempest Cove to retrieve her once we hear back.”
“And you’ve not heard back from him yet?”
“No. Not yet. I suspect he’s meeting with her, as we speak.”
Meeting with her. In contact with her. I’ll kill the prick myself. “And you don’t happen to know where?”
“No. Unfortunately, I don’t.”
Rubbing a hand down my face, I inwardly groan. “Thank you for the update, Friedrich. I look forward to hearing from you.”
“Of course.”
I hang up the phone and dial Rand’s phone number, not even giving him the opportunity to greet me when he answers. “I need Mr. Goodman’s contact number. Now.”
“Yes, of course. Would you like me to get in touch with him?”
“No! I need the number now!”
As he rattles it off, I jot it down onto a sheet of paper from my desk, and as soon as I have it, I click out of the call.
I dial the number.
It rings and rings.
No answer.
I dial it again.
It rings and rings.
“Fuck!” Adrenaline courses through me, and I shoot out of my chair, scrolling through the apps on my phone. I click on the tracker app linked to Isa’s bracelet that I handed off to the investigator at the end of our meeting. The blinking dot skates along State Rd. like the asshole is in transit.
At the ding of the elevator, I lift my attention to Rand, who shuffles across the room, into my office. “You sounded distressed, Master. Is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not fucking okay.” From my desk drawer, I lift the gun stored there and pop the magazine to find it packed with bullets. Stuffing the weapon into my pants, I swipe up my phone from the desk, watching his eyes widen. “Friedrich called. They’ve taken an interest in Isa.”
“Whatever for?”
“She’s apparently my sister-in-law. Go fucking figure.” I round the desk and stride toward the elevator. “How did our contact miss that little detail?”
“Her birth certificate didn’t list a father,” he says after me, when I pass. “Master, I’ll have Makaio fetch the car.”
“He’s welcome to follow me, but I need something faster.”