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Authors: Kerrie DuBrock

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BOOK: Merchants with Evil Intent
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He wiped the sweat from his brow and
hands when it was time to board. As soon as the plane hit the skies he’d be
home free.

      
It was Camryn’s fault his life had taken
a shit and sooner or later she’d pay.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Declan’s carriage was a Range Rover he
left in the car park. He climbed in and jumped when he noticed he wasn’t alone.

      
“Missed me, aye?”

      
Eoghan stuttered, “Well you have been
away for a fortnight.”

      
“It must’ve been rough on ya not having
anyone to call a horse’s arse.”

      
“Nay, I did call people that. It’s more
enjoyable when they can hear me though. ‘Tis passing odd that only those near
death can see and hear me,” Eoghan sighed.

      
Declan
laughed as he backed the Rover out. He noticed the gel with the red sunglasses
standing outside near her driver. She held a map

and
the red haired chap shook his head. She
tore off her sunglasses and pointed at the map.

 

      
“Methinks the long thing at your feet
makes the carriage move,” Eoghan offered as cars behind Declan began to honk.

      
The lass looked straight at Declan and
stared. She looked like Maggie, but younger.

      
“Damnation man! What ails you?” Eoghan
bellowed. “Have ye gone daft?”

      
Declan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Aye, now I’m
bloody seein’ ‘er in Ireland!”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camryn couldn’t think with the horns
blaring. She saw an SUV blocking traffic. The lights surrounding the parking
lot in the airport were blinding, causing her to squint.

      
She looked askance at the moron holding
up traffic. It looked like Declan, but then again there were many men who wore
their hair to their shoulders.

      
“Lass?”

      
“Sorry, look Mickey, right now I’m looking
for a place where I can shower and sleep horizontally. Know any place like
that?”

      
“I ‘ave just the place
in mind.
The McCann’s have a lovely place down the road,” he offered.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“You’ve met a wench?” Eoghan questioned.

      
Declan rolled his eyes. “She’s not a
wench. She’s just spirited.”

      
Eoghan picked imaginary lint from his
hose and sighed.
“Wench tisn’t an offensive name.
It
simply means ‘woman’.”

      
“So you’ve told me before,” Declan
reminded.

      
Eoghan twisted in his seat. “Well?”

      
“Aye, I met a beautiful and bothersome
woman. End of story.”

      
“Rubbish! Methinks there’s more to this
story.”

      
Declan rubbed his eyes with his left
hand. ‘
twould
be a long drive back to County Wexford
with this nosey knight sitting next to him.

      
“Fine, I’ll bloody tell you aboot her!”

*
     
*
     
*

      
The ride to the bed-and-breakfast was
nondescript. Well, not totally. Camryn thought the steering wheel should be in
front of her considering she sat on the left side of the car. It’s a good thing
John hired a driver. She didn’t think she and European roads would be a good
match.

      
Camryn gazed out the window in
disappointment. She didn’t see any stone fences or rolling green hills, not to
mention the sheep that supposedly blocked the roads.

      
Maybe sheep had a curfew.

      
Mickey pulled up to a modern looking red
brick home.
“’ere we are then.”

      
“It doesn’t look like a B&B,” Camryn
commented.

      
“Sure it does! See?” Mickey pointed
towards a sign that read ‘McCann Bed & Breakfast’.

      
“Well, I stand corrected,” she replied
sarcastically.

      
He hopped out and pulled her suitcase
from the back seat and strolled up the walkway.

      
“Isn’t it too late to stop here? What
time is it anyway?” Camryn asked.

      
Mickey checked his watch. “It’s half past
two in the morning. Dontcha worry. The McCann’s are used to late visitors.”

      
Mickey knocked on the door as Camryn
looked around nervously. She didn’t like to knock on doors so early in the
morning. In Chicago, an act that mundane could get you shot.

      
An older blond woman wearing a robe
opened the door slowly and grinned.

      
“Mickey O’Donovan! How are you
love
?”

      
“Grand and
yourself
?”
he asked, giving her a quick hug.

      
“Couldna be better! How’s your mum?”

      
“She’s doing grand as well.”

      
Camryn cleared her throat.

      
Mrs. McCann peered around Mickey. “Where
are
me manners? Sorry, dearie.
Are you
needin’
a place to stay then?”

      
“Yes, thank you. I just flew in from the
states,” Camryn replied.

      
“An American!
How wonderful! But surely you can’t be sleepin’ on an empty stomach. Come on
then, I’ll reheat lamb stew for ya.”

      
Lamb
stew? Gross
. Camryn
pursed her lips. “Thanks, but no. I don’t want to inconvenience you. Besides,
I’m not really hungry.”

      
“I’ll no’ have a guest o’ mine goin’ to
sleep on an empty stomach. I insist!” Mrs. McCann argued.

      
“She does make the best lamb stew in the
county,” Mickey offered.

      
“And just for sayin’ so, you’ll stay for
a bowl, won’t you?” she asked Mickey. He nodded eagerly and she continued, “Why
dontcha put the gel’s bags in room one first.”

      
Mickey dutifully took Camryn’s suitcase
and tote bag while she paid for her room.

      
Mrs. McCann flipped on lights leading
Camryn and Mickey to the kitchen. The kitchen was fairly large and modern. A
small wood round red table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by four
chairs. Mickey kindly pulled out a chair for her as Shannon McCann prattled on
about places that Camryn should visit while in Ireland.

      
The kitchen still held the aroma of
freshly baked bread and to Camryn’s surprise, her mouth watered. But her lip
curled at the thought of eating a poor little lamb as Shannon placed bowls in
front of her and Mickey.

      
“Will ya be stayin’ with us for a few
days?” Shannon asked as Camryn brought a spoonful of stew to her lips.

      
She shook her head. “Just for the night,
I’m afraid.”
Devil loves a coward
,
she thought, putting the spoon into her mouth. To her surprise and dismay, it
was quite tasty.

      
By time she finished eating, she’d
scarfed two bowls of stew and three slices of bread. Now fully sated, she
didn’t feel like showering. A bed sounded more preferable.

      
She thanked Shannon for the late meal and
told Mickey she’d see him at ten.

      
Camryn walked through the home scrunching
her nose. Her idea of a B&B was an older home furnished with antiques. The
McCann’s decorated with modern furnishings. The main room held a black leather
couch along with glass and silver chrome tables. The couch reminded her of
Viktor’s.

      
She batted the creepy feelings away and
found her room. Chrome furnishings and a black lacquered dresser with matching
bed adorned the room.

      
A door stood ajar and upon investigation
Camryn found a private bathroom. Well, maybe modern wasn’t so bad after all.

      
She quickly showered, combed out her long
hair and brushed her teeth before settling into bed. Her head hit the pillow
and it dawned on her she didn’t call her parents like she promised she would.

      
She tore the covers off and grabbed her
phone from her purse. She had two messages.

      
Her mouth hung open when she heard
Declan’s voice and her heart beat a little faster.

      
She listened to the message three times.
The sound of his voice comforted her somehow.

      
The second message came from John. “Cam
girl, it’s your…John. Call me the second you get this message. It’s important.”

      
She rolled her eyes. Didn’t he understand
she wasn’t ready to talk to him? She’d call him later. No need to spoil the
warm fuzzies that lingered from Declan’s message.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter
8

 
 

      
Joe Butler’s shift ended, but he stayed
with Camille. He assured her he wanted to wait for her parents and Samantha’s
mom to arrive.

      
“The guy with the bushy eyebrows and bad
breath doesn’t believe us,” Camille whispered to him.

      
“Brower?
It’s
not that he doesn’t believe you. He’s having a hard time accepting one of his
own is a monster. He probably blames himself for not seeing the signs,” Joe
offered.

      
She scoffed, “Signs? Like what?”

      
Joe shrugged, “Sometimes you can tell a
cop is dirty if he’s dropping money on expensive shit, sorry, I mean stuff.”

      
Camille smiled and patted his hand. “You
can say ‘shit’ in front of me.” She reflexively pulled her robe tighter around
her. “This guy, Orlov, was he a friend of yours?”

      
“When you’re a cop everyone you work with
becomes family. You form a bond with these people because your life could
depend on it.”

      
She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer
my question.”

      
He sighed, “Friend? No. He wasn’t one
that I’d hang out with in my off time.”

      
“Why?” Camille pushed.

      
“Because he’s an arrogant asshole and
gave me the creeps,” Joe confessed.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“By the saints!
You’re smitten!” Eoghan teased.

      
“Not that it does me any bloody
good
,” Declan sighed.

      
“Use the little talkie thing you have and
make speech with her.”

      
“I did and she’s no’ called me back. I’ll
not be grovelin’.”

      
“Twouldn’t
be
groveling. She does have a lackwit pursuing her. I’m sure that’s kept her busy,
aye?”

      
The thought of someone stalking her
raised Declan’s ire. Eoghan cleared his throat, startling Declan from his
thoughts. “What?”

      
Eoghan stroked his short black goatee. “Aye,
the dream you had is passing odd. Mayhap you’re feeling guilty about leaving
the wench and thusly not protecting her.”

      
Declan rolled his eyes. “It’s not only
the bloody dream, you gobshite! I talked to a woman, on the plane that looked
like an older version of Camryn and poof, she disappeared. It makes no fecking
sense!”

      
“Do you know what makes this wench
different from Teghan?” Eoghan questioned.

      
“No,” Declan sighed.

      
Eoghan grinned. “She’s your intended.”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Callie Stewart and Amanda Yates both
confirmed Viktor Orlov was the man who took them. They also stated Valik was
involved too. They remembered seeing him at their bedside periodically.

BOOK: Merchants with Evil Intent
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