Savage Redemption (The Caraksay Brotherhood #10)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

R osie

“Go where?” I gape at my dad as though he just sprouted an extra head. “No way!”

“It’s a nice place. Quiet, secluded. Lots of wildlife.”

“Wildlife? Are you mad? Why would I be interested in wildlife?”

“Walking. Fresh air. Birdwatching. You could relax, unwind. Apparently, there’s a huge puffin colony there. And some rare seals.”

“Puffins? Seals?” I stare across the breakfast table at him, incredulous. “I don’t give a shit about puffins and seals. And I don’t need a holiday.”

“I think you do, just for a while. A month or two. Maybe three… It’ll be good for Erin, too.”

This just gets better and better. Three months stuck on a lump of rock in the North Atlantic with a load of gangsters. I’d rather poke needles in my eyes. “No,” I repeat. “Absolutely not. Don’t you think I’ve had enough of Mafia bosses to last at least one lifetime?”

“Ethan Savage isn’t like that. He’s one of the good guys.”

“How did you arrive at that conclusion? He’s the same as the rest.” I vaguely remember Ethan Savage from my brief stay on Kristian Kaminski’s yacht, just after I was rescued from the cottage on Tenerife. He arrived on his own yacht with all his entourage, to visit Janey, I think. I was somewhat preoccupied at the time and didn’t really spend any time with them before my dad whisked me away and brought me home. True, he seemed respectable enough, but they all do until you scratch the surface. At heart, he’ll be as greedy, self-serving, and violent as the rest, and I need to keep my precious baby away from all of that.

“He’s offered you protection,” my dad argues. “You’ll be safe there, both of you.”

“Protection? What are you talking about? We’re safe here. Aren’t we?” I leave my buttered toast to go cold on my plate and get up to leave. “This conversation is over. I need to see to Erin, she’s probably awake by now.”

I’m only halfway to the door when is next words bring me to an abrupt halt.

“San Antonio is alive. And he’s free. He knows about Erin.”

My knees turn to jelly. I turn, grasping at a chair for support. “What?” I croak. “What did you say?”

“San Antonio is free. And he knows about Erin.”

“But how…? Kaminski told me he was going to kill him. Why would he…?”

My dad gets to his feet and reaches me in three strides. “I’m sorry I had to break it to you like that. I didn’t want to tell you at all, but… Come on, you need to sit down before you fall down.”

I stagger to a chair and sink onto it. “But how is he alive? They shot him, I heard the sound.” It’s etched on my brain. “And how did he find out about Erin? Does he… does he know where we live?” I don’t recall ever talking to Adan about my past life, my family, where I came from.

“Bartosz told him.”

“But why? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t entirely understand. Who knows why any of them do anything? But Bartosz phoned me and told me Kaminski decided to release San Antonio?—”

“After all this time? It’s been how long? A year? He was alive all along, a prisoner?” I’m struggling to take this in.

“Yes, I suppose so. Bartosz thought San Antonio might try to snatch Erin. He wanted to protect you, so he arranged with Ethan Savage for you to spend some time there, on Caraksay.”

“Where’s Adan now?”

“I have no idea, but we need to assume he’s going to find his way here eventually.”

“But I don’t get it. Why would he hurt Erin? Or me? Adan was… not like that. He was never violent or cruel, not with me.”

My dad wraps his arm around my shoulders. “We talked about this, princess. Just because he treated you better than the others, doesn’t make him some sort of romantic hero. He’s ruthless, dangerous, just like the rest, and we need to make sure Erin stays well out of his reach. You know I’m right.”

I shake my head. “He wouldn’t. I know him, he?—”

“Listen to me, Rosie. Trust me.” He tips my chin up, so I have to meet his gaze. “I only want what’s best for you. Both of you.”

I blink back tears. “I know, but?—”

“If it helps, Eva’s agreed to come with you.”

“Eva? But what about her work?” Eva has lectures to deliver. Student essays to mark.

“She’s been commissioned to write a paper on natural linguistic programming and data sciences, some research she’s been heading up for the last couple of years. She can write it anywhere, apparently, and there’s no shortage of IT and communications capacity on Caraksay for her to keep in touch with the other boffins. I think she’s quite looking forward to the peace and quiet.”

I don’t even ask what the fuck natural linguistic programming might be, I doubt if my dad knows either.

He continues. “Ethan is considering an extension to his castle. Tasteful, obviously, carefully designed to blend in with the existing structure. He’s asked me to draft some ideas and maybe supervise the construction phase, so I might even follow you out there.”

“You really think this is necessary? That place is at the back of beyond. I won’t know anyone there.”

“The fact that it’s remote is why you’re going there. You’ll be safe, and you’ll have Eva. And Ethan’s wife is very… pleasant.”

A Mafia queen? Pleasant doesn’t seem quite the right word. I’ve met her type before, and they can be more vicious than the men.

“A business associate of mine is married to Savage’s sister. You met him once or twice, I think. Jed O’Neill?”

I shake my head. “I don’t remember…”

“He’s a good guy. He tried to find you when you first went missing, even sent a man to the US when he spotted you there in that biker camp, but you’d disappeared and the man you’d been with was dead.”

“Adam Ricci? Yes, he was murdered. I was sold again and shipped back to Europe. I never realised anyone was looking for me…”

“Hell yes. I was frantic, tried everything I could think of, including asking Jed to help. I knew he had… connections. The Savages were involved in the search, too, you were last seen in one of their clubs. But the trail went dead in London. Jed’s involved with the Irish Mafia, but he does a lot of business in New York. He happened to be there when he spotted you by chance when he was doing business with this Ricci individual. He did follow it up, but as I said, he was too late.”

I shudder. Things might have worked out very differently if Adam Ricci had survived or this Jed had moved more quickly. “How long will I be there? On that island?”

“Just until we’re sure that San Antonio means you no harm.”

“How will we know that?”

He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I have no idea. For now, though, let’s just make sure you’re safe. And Erin. I’ll be keeping in touch with Bartosz, and as soon as there’s any news, I’ll be in touch.”

“But Eva got me a place, at Manchester.” I’m grasping at straws, but suddenly the prospect of university is much more appealing.

“It’ll still be there when all this is over. So, we’re decided, then?”

Are we? I nod dumbly as my life is upended all over again. “I suppose so, if it keeps Erin safe…”

I can just hear the drone of the rotors despite the headphones covering my ears. Beside me, Eva gazes out of the window at the churning waves below us. She’s always been a fan of the craggy Yorkshire landscape, so she’ll probably appreciate the bleak Hebridean vista. I wish I could say the same.

A small holdall is at my feet, just a few essentials until my main luggage can be shipped over.

Erin is fast asleep, not even remotely disturbed by the din of the helicopter. I’m fortunate that she’s so placid; she’s slept during most of the journey, first in the back of my dad’s Audi and for the last hour or so while we’ve been in the air.

“We’ll be arriving in about twenty minutes,” the pilot, a woman of about thirty, calls back over her shoulder. “It’s a clear day, so you should soon be able to see Caraksay on the left.”

Oh, joy. My first sight of what’s to be my prison.

“Thank you,” Eva replies. “I hear the wildlife is spectacular.”

“Yes, if you like that sort of thing,” the pilot replies. “Seabirds, marine life. We often see hump-backed whales from the island, as well as seals and dolphins.”

“I’m glad I brought my camera.”

Apparently, Eva doesn’t intend to spend all her time closeted with her academic tomes. I wish I could work up even a fraction of her enthusiasm.

As though sensing my apprehension, she reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “It’ll be all right,” she mouths. “You’ll see.”

Yeah. Right.

I still can’t truly believe that Adan means me or Erin harm. It’s just not his way, but everyone else seems absolutely convinced that he’s violent, dangerous, and bent on revenge. Why I or my daughter would be the target of such venom is beyond me, but I’ve given up arguing. It gets me nowhere. Of one thing I am certain, though. If he sets his mind to it, Adan will find us, even here.

“Oh. Is that it?” Eva blurts, pointing to somewhere in front.

“Yes. You should be able to pick out the battlements at the top of the cliffs,” the pilot informs us. “We’ll be landing in about ten minutes.”

“Battlements?” Even my curiosity is piqued. “Why are there battlements?”

The pilot obliges us with an explanation. “Caraksay was an ancient fortress, several centuries ago. A castle was built there in, I think, the fourteenth century. Ethan is the real expert on the history, you would need to ask him. It was a farming and fishing community back then as well, and a village sprung up. It was deserted after a couple of hundred years. I expect it was a harsh existence, and they just abandoned it eventually. It all fell into dereliction for the next five centuries or so. Until Ethan came along, bought the island, and restored the original buildings. There’s been a lot of additional construction, too. Converting the barns to provide leisure facilities, building the clinic, more cottages to accommodate all our men and their families.”

“Leisure facilities? A clinic?” Not quite so primitive as I’d assumed.

The pilot continues. “Oh, yes. We have a swimming pool, very popular with the children. A gym, a small cinema. We have our own resident doctor, so you’ll have no need to worry about the little one. And the mainland is only an hour or so away by helicopter. The castle is converted and modernised to provide apartments, conference facilities, a sort of business hub. It’s all very civilised, really.”

“We’re keen to start exploring. Aren’t we, Rosie?” Eva nudges me with her elbow.

“Oh, yes. Can’t wait,” I agree, managing to drum up a polite level of apparent enthusiasm. I think I do a good job, considering.

The helicopter circles the island twice which gives us a good opportunity to observe from the air. The entire place is dominated by the dour-looking castle perched on the highest crag, constructed in the dark-grey granite so typical of the Highlands. The crenelated battlements soar against the only slightly paler grey of the sky. A cobbled forecourt stretches away in front of the ancient portcullis, marked with an ultra-modern giant letter H to indicate where the chopper is to touch down. A second helicopter is already on the ground.

Several larger buildings surround the castle itself, barns originally, I would imagine, but I assume these now house the pool, gym, clinic, and so on.

The pilot-cum-tour guide continues her potted history. “The larger barns are original, and most of the cottages. Just updated to suit the twenty-first century. The clinic is that building directly below us, modern, built about two years ago. So are those cottages at the foot of the incline. The harbour was already there but has been developed and upgraded to suit modern boats. The Savages’ yacht is moored about a mile offshore.”

About half a dozen small boats bob on either side of a sturdy stone-and-timber jetty. Clearly the Caraksay community don’t rely solely on their helicopters. I remember the beautiful Savage yacht, the Lydia , from when I was on Tenerife. They arrived en masse on board and moored alongside Kristian Kaminski’s own sleek vessel. I dread to think of the wealth enshrined in those gleaming white hulls, and more particularly of the activities required to accumulate it.

The Savages may not partake in sex-trafficking, but I daresay they have their fingers in plenty more nefarious activity.

Eva delivers another sharp nudge. She may be my stepmother rather than a blood relation, but she was always finely attuned to my moods and she’s warning me not to be too judgmental. These people are offering me sanctuary of a sort, after all.

I meet her gaze and smile. Message received; I’ll do my best. After all, I should be used to all this after the last couple of years.

The helicopter descends to touch down gently on the spare H. The rotors slow, then stop. The pilot removes her headphones and unlocks the doors. “Welcome to Caraksay.”

The doors slide apart, and a set of stairs lowers automatically. I unstrap Erin from her makeshift cot on the floor and clutch her, still sleeping soundly, to my chest. Eva heads out first, and we make our way gingerly down to the cobbles.

The wind hits me as soon as I emerge from the cocoon of the chopper, taking my breath away. Erin finally stirs and complains loudly as we are buffeted by a chilly north-westerly breeze.

“I hope you brought warm coats,” the pilot observes as she hops down beside us and zips up her own fur-lined jacket. “Ah, here’s the welcoming committee.”

A man and a woman stroll down the stone steps from the castle main entrance. They are a striking couple, both tall, good-looking, supremely confident. And dressed for the weather in leather trench coats that probably cost a few grand apiece. The man is vaguely familiar, though I struggle to place him.

“Ah, Miss Darke. So good to see you again.” He offers me his hand, and I shake it. He continues in his soft Irish brogue. “And this must be Erin. And Professor Byrne.” More hand-shaking and muttered pleasantries.

I’m not entirely sure what to say; what’s the protocol when meeting gangsters, however affable?

I don’t need to worry. Eva has it covered.

“We’re so grateful for your hospitality, Mr Savage.”

“Ah, no. I’m Jed O’Neill, and this is my wife, Casey. Ethan is inside. He’s involved in a conference call right now. Business, you understand. But he’s looking forward to meeting you later.”

Jed O’Neill. This is the man my dad does business with, the one who came searching for me. I summon up some manners. “I should think you, sir. For trying to help me… before.”

“Ah, well, I just wish I could have done more. Still, you’re safe now. Let’s make sure you stay that way, eh?”

“Yes. Thank you. I?—”

“I’m so excited to meet you, Professor Byrne.” Mrs O’Neill, Casey, pushes herself forward and offers her hand to Eva. “I read your article in the Journal of Systems and Software , the one on linguistic digital programming. It was fascinating. Ground-breaking, actually.”

Eva’s eyebrows disappear into her auburn fringe. “That’s quite a select readership. Are you an IT professional, Mrs O’Neill?”

She shakes her head and shoves her glasses up her nose. “Not a professional, exactly. More an enthusiastic amateur.”

Jed O’Neill is having none of that. “My wife undersells herself, Professor. Her hacking and software development skills are second to none. I’m sure you’ll find much to talk about, the pair of you, doubtless in a language completely unknown to the rest of us.”

“Eva, please.” Eva grins. “I think I may have heard of you, Casey. Can I call you Casey?”

“Of course.” Casey reaches for Eva’s bag. “Shall we get you all inside?”

Jed takes my bag in one hand and my precious violin case in the other, and gestures me to follow Eva and Casey who are already chatting like old friends.

“You developed that ‘Mugmatch’ program,” Eva is saying. “Ingenious, if somewhat… unorthodox. I was hired by the Met to find a way of neutralising it. Took some doing, I’ll tell you that.”

“I know. I had to keep building in extra tweaks to keep ahead of you. You’re tenacious, Eva, I grant you that.”

“They paid me well. That job funded my holiday to the Bahamas that year, so I should be grateful to you. Am I right in thinking you developed a suite of gaming programs as well?”

“Yes, but not so much these days. There’s good money in gaming, but I specialise more in financial projections now. Cryptocurrency in the main. It’s lucrative, and legal.”

Beside me, Jed chuckles. “It’s not often Casey finds someone she can talk shop with. They’re both in their element.”

“Yes. Eva’s very… clever.” An understatement. Last I heard she had an IQ of 180, one of the brainiest half a percent in the world. Somehow, she manages to also be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I’ve always adored her.

“Casey, too, though she tends to turn her talents towards more practical applications. She got her degree in computer science when she was a teenager, her family insisted, apparently. But she’s always been a doer rather than a thinker. She’s fascinated by Eva’s research, though, so I suspect you’ll be seeing a lot of her.”

“That’ll be nice…”

He slants me a glance. “Will it? I somehow get the impression you’re not as enthusiastic as your stepmum about being here.”

“It’s not that. I just… it’s a lot, that’s all.”

“A big upheaval, I get that. Must be frightening, too, after all you went through.”

“Yes. No, I mean…”

He pauses, turns to face me. “What is it, Rosie?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just being silly.”

“No, I’m not buying that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I glance up at him. He’s handsome, but there’s more to him than just a pretty face. He reminds me of Adan, somehow, a latent kindness beneath the hard-nosed exterior.

“I just don’t understand, that’s all.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“Why would Adan turn on me like this? I did nothing to him, and he was always so kind. So… gentle. I thought he liked me.”

“He probably did, then. Why would he not?”

“I can understand that he might want me back. I… I belonged to him, he owned me.”

“No, he didn’t. You were an innocent victim, not a possession. Never lose sight of that.”

“Yes, but in his head…”

“If that’s what he still thinks, then he’s just plain deluded. But you need to remember, Rosie, San Antonio was a prisoner for a year. That can change a man. He was probably tortured…”

I gasp, choke back a sob. “They shot him. I heard it. I saw them dragging his body out of that cottage.”

“Not his body. Clearly, he was alive, and whatever he may have endured, he survived it. But he’s not the same man you remember. Who knows what he’s thinking, what he might do?”

“My dad thinks he may try to snatch Erin.”

“Yes, I heard that as well. Maybe he thinks he needs to protect her. In our world, sadly, children and loved ones can become targets. We all take precautions to keep our families safe from enemies.”

“I’m not his enemy!”

“No, but we’ve no way of knowing who else is out there with a grudge. I gather the Domingos refused to pay the ransom Kaminski demanded. They didn’t want him back.”

“I… I never knew that. Do you think it could be them?”

“I don’t know, but if you like, I’ll ask around and see what I can find out. If the threat is more explicit it’ll be easier to protect you in any case.”

“Would you do that? I don’t understand, why would you help me?”

“I let you down once before and I’ve regretted it. This is the least I can do. And your father is a friend of mine, well, sort of.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Hey, let’s get you two inside and settled in before you freeze to death, the pair of you. Nathan would never forgive me.”