Merchants with Evil Intent (15 page)

      
“I’m just sayin’,” Claire frowned.

      
Patrick shook his head at his younger
daughter then turned his attention to Camryn. “John stopped by and said you
accepted his offer. I can’t say I’m entirely happy with you going so far away,
alone, but I don’t think you’re safe here. I feel useless because I can’t keep
you safe.”

      
Camryn reached across the table for his
hand. “Aw, dad, don’t feel that way. I have a gut feeling things are going to
turn around here after I leave.”

      
“What do you mean?” her mom sniffled.

      
“I’m beginning to think my situation and
the disappearances of the women are linked,” Camryn shrugged.

      
“Well, if the case gets solved before the
two month tour of Ireland is up, we’ll want you home sooner,” her dad stated.

      
“Trust me, if it’s as rainy in Ireland as
they say it is, I’ll be anxious to get home!” Camryn laughed.

      
Her dad pulled a white envelope from his
pocket. “Your mom and I want you to have this,” he said handing it to Camryn.

      
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need
money.”

      
Her dads’ stony expression said volumes
so she took the envelope dolefully. Camryn had seen that look enough when she
was a teenager and knew not to press her luck.

      
“Camryn, your cell is ringing,” Travers
announced, handing the phone to her.

      
She was disappointed when she heard
Tamara’s voice on the other end.

      
“I’m calling to see how you are. We
haven’t talked in a few days!” Tamara admonished.

      
Camryn started to tell her she’d call her
back, but Patrick and Grace stood to leave.

      
“We’ll get out of your hair. Call us the
minute you land!” her dad requested.

      
“I will. Promise,” she vowed as she
hugged them.
 

      
She resumed her conversation with Tamara,
leaving nothing out.

      
“Wow! Didn’t you tell me a few months ago
your life was boring?” Tamara teased.

      
“Yeah and what I wouldn’t give for a
little boredom right now.”

      
“Now you’ll have time to work on that
novel you’ve been itching to write,” Tamara offered.

      
“That’s a thought. I can park myself for
a few weeks and start on it.”

      
After a pause in conversation Tamara
spoke. “Ya know, Cam, if you ever need to vent about things, I’m always here
for you.”

      
Camryn sighed, “I know.”

      
“It’s not good to keep stuff bottled up.”

      
“You’re right. I have to sift through a
problem and figure things out before I can talk about it. When I’m ready to
talk I’ll bring the wine.”

      
“Be safe and e-mail me,” Tamara laughed.

      
After they hung up Camryn went into the
living room and found Ryan sprawled on the couch sleeping with his mouth wide
open and Travers asleep on her birdhouse chair. Empty beer bottles and an empty
pizza box littered the coffee table.

      
Some bodyguards they turned out to be.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Declan paced the deck, his mobile in
hand. He wanted to call someone, well, someone in particular, but didna want to
deal with her attitude. Was she always bitchy? Or could it be because an
arsehole stalked her? Aye, that was probably it. She seemed so normal at the
ceilidh. No doubt the situation made her barmy.

      
He’d call her once more before he left
the States. If she acted snarky again, he’d forget aboot her.

      
Or at least he’d try to.

*
     
*
     
*

      
After Camryn changed into her pajamas she
picked up the mess from the coffee table.
 

      
She plonked down on a blue armchair and
perused the itinerary again, yawning.

      
Her eyelids lowered as she thought about
everything that transpired in less than a week’s time.

      
A knock at the front door startled her.
She glanced at Travers and Ryan, both fast asleep. She rolled her eyes and
padded to the door and slowly pulled it open.

      
Viktor filled the doorway. His expression
frightened her. When he pulled his fist back, she screamed.

*
     
*
     
*

      
John worried about her. After Maggie died
he was so distraught he could hardly take care of himself, let alone a baby. It
made sense to let Grace and Patrick take care of baby Cam when they offered.

      
He was a constant fixture in her life. He
attended class plays, poetry readings and track events. He was there when she
needed a shoulder to lean on. She looked so much like Maggie it sometimes hurt
his heart to look at her, especially now, when she detested him so.

      
He hoped after the trip to Ireland she’d
come back and at least like him. With any luck, she’d love him again.

      
He rolled over in bed and sighed.
Tomorrow’s car ride would be tense. He needed rest to prepare for it.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Travers awoke to Camryn’s scream,
reaching for his gun in response. She sat in an armchair across from him, her
eyes wide with fear. Ryan’s face was distorted in a silent scream.

      
He quickly scanned the room and stood,
tensed for action. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Camryn waving her hand
at him.

      
“What? What the hell is going on?” he
barked.

      
“I fell asleep and dreamt Viktor came
here. He pulled back his fist to hit me and that’s when I screamed. Sorry,” she
murmured sheepishly.

      
Travers held his gun at his side and
rubbed his left hand over his eyes. A small smile formed on his lips when he
looked at Ryan.

      
“What’s with you? You look like you’ve
seen a ghost,” Travers teased.

      
Ryan acted nonplussed. “How the hell
am
I supposed to look after waking up to a scream?”

      
“At first I thought you were the one who
screamed,” Travers chided.

      
Ryan narrowed his eyes, “Asshole.”

      
“Okay, you two, play nice,” Camryn
warned. “I’m going to bed.”

      
She kissed Ryan on the cheek and then
stood on tippy toes and kissed Travers on the cheek as well. “Thanks for being
here.” She turned around, “The flowers and wine? Did you really bring those for
me?”

      
“I’m offended you’d think otherwise,”
Travers pouted.

      
Camryn kissed him again on the cheek.
“Thanks, Greg. That was a sweet gesture.”

      
Travers watched as she sleepily walked to
her bedroom and closed the door. He absently placed his hand on the cheek she
kissed.

      
He caught Ryan eyeballing him. “What?” he
gruffly spat.

      
“Don’t be getting any ideas about my
sister, that’s what.”

      
Travers barked out a laugh. “Not a
chance, buddy, not a chance. Hell, I think she’s got bigger balls than you!”

      
Ryan threw a pillow at his head and lay
back on the couch, facing away from Travers.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Viktor pulled up to Camryn’s house with
dimmed headlights. It was well past two in the morning and inside lights
glowed.

      
He quietly closed the car door and padded
up the sidewalk. His nose wrinkled when he glanced at the plastic flowers
lining the walkway. He used to think her plastic flowers were charming. Now he
thought they were trashy, just like her.

      
A male voice drifted outside. His eyes
narrowed when he realized the truth.

      
Travers and Camryn
were
dating.

      
She’d pay for hurting him, but not
tonight.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Declan awoke at five in the morning and
couldn’t fall back to sleep. It was too early to call the gel, but did anyway.

      
He frowned when she didn’t pick up, but
left a message.

      
“Camryn, tis Declan.
I wanted to tell you again I’m sorry I offended you.
T’was
not my intention.
Um, I’m leavin’ today for home. I’d welcome a call
from you, if you’re so inclined.”

      
He left his mobile number and ended the
call.

      
The choice was hers.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“Cam!
Wake up!” Ryan
said, jostling her.

      
Camryn rolled over and jumped at the
sight of Ryan’s face inches from hers. “What?”

      
He turned on the overhead light. “John’s
here already!”

      
“Shit!” she growled as she jumped out of
bed. She ran out of her room and grabbed a towel from the linen closet.

      
Ryan grabbed her arm. “Whaddya think
you’re doing?”

      
“Um, going to take a
shower.”

      
“Wrong answer.
You have two hours until your plane leaves. You can shower in Ireland.”

      
“Double shit!” she whined.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“Coll!
Gel
are
you ready yet?” Declan barked up the stairs.

      
“Hold your shorts, Declan! Are you in a
hurry to leave?” she snapped.

      
“Aye.
I’m ready
to start living my life,” he teased.

      
Colleen came down the stairs, a small
smile formed on her lips. “Well, at least that’s something.” She ruffled his
hair from the second step. “Do you have everything?”

      
“I believe so. I’ve already put it in the
van.”

      
“Let’s be off then. Come on boys!”
Colleen called.

      
While the boyos ran out the front door
Declan looked at his mobile. No missed calls. He sighed and tucked the mobile
into his jeans pocket.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camille jumped awake to the heavy slam of
a metal door. She made no movement for several long minutes, fear gripped at
her throat.

      
She twisted her head to the left, a bit
at a time, in case she was being watched.

      
Her breathing became harsher when she
worked up the nerve to lift an eyelid.

      
Was it
day
?
Night?
There was no way to discern. The windows near the
ceiling were covered with grime.

      
Seeing no visible threat she lifted her
head and surveyed the room.

      
Her throat was dry, her stomach rumbled.
When was the last time she drank? Ate?

      
Anger and fear twisted at her gut; a
volatile mixture for Camille.

 
     
She
struggled against the tethers at her wrist. She’d be goddamned if she was going
to die this way.

      
A deep throaty laugh escaped near her.

      
Her breath hitched and she slowly turned
her head.

      
The fat, balding man’s eyes oozed evil as
he glared at her. He spoke in Russian before injecting a needle into the IV.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camryn sat grumpily in the passenger seat
of John’s car. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and hidden by a cap, bearing
her favorite Chicago hockey teams’ logo.