Savage Redemption (The Caraksay Brotherhood #10)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

A dan

At some stage in the proceedings, I must have removed my shirt, because Rosie has commandeered it and is moving quietly around the room. The dark-grey fabric reaches her mid-thighs, and when she bends to pick up our discarded toys it offers a tantalising glimpse of that seriously sexy bottom. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of watching her.

“You’re staring,” she accuses me.

“So sue me,” I reply, plumping the pillows behind my shoulders. “Tell me, Rosie, did you ever think of making a career out of playing the violin?”

She turns to regard me. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m interested. You’re good. I wouldn’t be the only one to think so.”

She shrugs. “I was good. Now, I’m out of practice.”

“Who says?”

“Me. I just know. It’s too late for…”

“For what?”

“For all of that.”

“I’m no expert, but what do your parents think?”

“They say I’m good, but they would, wouldn’t they?”

“Who do you need to hear it from, cara, for you to believe it?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Someone who… who doesn’t know me.”

“So why not try? Audition somewhere.”

She shakes her head. “It’s too late,” she repeats. “Just drop it. Please.”

There’s more, I know it, but she’s already clamming up. I opt to change the subject. “Where would you like to go? Once we leave here.”

“I don’t know. Where do you usually live?”

“All over. I go where the business is. Most recently that was Hong Kong, then Glasgow. I wasn’t especially fond of Glasgow. Too fucking cold for my liking.”

“Of course, you grew up in Spain. Don’t you have a home?”

“Not really. Not yet. New York might be good. We could get a nice apartment, with a garden for Erin.”

“I don’t want to go back to New York. Or anywhere in the US.”

Shit! I should have remembered. Of course she doesn’t.

“Maybe Canada, then,” I suggest. “Toronto.”

She shrugs. “That’s also a bit chilly, I think. Wherever. Just, not America. I want a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yes. A big one. I had a dog when I was a kid. Barney. He was huge. I loved him.”

“What happened to him?” I ask.

Her eyes glisten. “He died. Old age. Not that long ago, not long before I was abducted.”

“What sort of dog was he?”

“I’m not sure. A mongrel. My uncle is a vet, and he said he thought he had a bit of Newfoundland in him and maybe St Bernard. He was a rescue. It was the best day of my life when my dad took me to the kennels and we adopted him.” She pauses, chews on her lip, then, “No. It was the second-best day. The best was when my mum and dad got married and he adopted me. I was only very little, but I had a lovely new dress.”

She’s caught me on the back foot. “You’re adopted?”

“Yes. My mum died a few days after their wedding, so it was just him and me from then on. Oh, and my nana. Mrs Richardson, our housekeeper.”

I’m fast losing the plot. “You had a complicated family,” I observe.

“Maybe. But I was very, very happy as a kid. Happier still when Eva came. That was the third-best day in my life. She was my violin tutor.”

I’ve learned more about the Darke family dynamics in the last couple of minutes than I ever found out while she lived with me. “Eva is a violinist, too?” I’d thought she was some sort of hot-shot academic.

“Oh, yes, but she’s concert standard.”

“And you’re not?” It didn’t sound like that to me when I arrived. “And if she’s that good, then surely she’d know if you were concert standard, too.”

“Maybe I was once. Not anymore,” she mutters. She glances at the clock beside the bed. “Hey, have you seen the time? Eva will be back with Erin any minute. We should get dressed.”

By my reckoning we have a good half hour left, and I somehow can’t imagine Eva barging in on us anyway. Even so, I roll to my feet and reach for my jeans. “I guess I’ll be needing my shirt. Pity, it looks better on you.”

She grabs a fresh top from one of her drawers and pulls my shirt over her head. I take a moment to savour the sight of her nudity before the new top ruins my view.

I need to give some serious thought to our future, Rosie’s, mine, and Erin’s. I suggested New York, and mercifully Rosie shot me down. Good thing, too, though not for the reason she thinks.

Kaminski isn’t going to give up. The moment either of us leaves any sort of digital footprint, anywhere in the world, he can track us and finish what he started. I’m not certain how sharp his IT capability is — I suspect Bartosz was always the real brains behind his security and intelligence operation — but I can’t take the risk, especially as I’m not the only target. He has his sights on Rosie, and probably our baby, too. Short of burying ourselves in deepest Peru, I don’t see how we can ever be safe while Kaminski is out there and hell-bent on revenge.

“Come in.” Ethan answers my knock on his office door.

I enter.

He glances up at me then gestures for me to take a seat while he finishes whatever he’s doing on his laptop. He closes the device and regards me with interest. “I see Megan turfed you out, then.”

“Yes. Today. I’m guessing you’ll be wanting me to be on my way pretty soon.”

He shrugs. “No rush. You have plans, then?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

He leans back in his seat. “Okay.”

“How well do you know Kaminski?” I ask, without preamble. I’ve found it doesn’t do to bullshit Ethan Savage.

“Not intimately. I can’t stand the bastard.”

“Is that why you came to Tenerife? I’m grateful, by the way.”

“You’re big enough and ugly enough to take your chances. Rosie isn’t. I had Nathan Darke on my back, not to mention Cristina who has a soft spot for the kid.”

I consider this for a few moments, then, “He won’t give up. Will he?”

“Probably not, but without his trusted underboss he’s a lot less powerful. Arrogant idiot should have realised that and not let him walk out.”

I nod, in total agreement, but it doesn’t solve my dilemma. “I need to be out of his reach. More to the point, I need my family to be out of his reach.”

“They’re safe here,” he points out.

“We can’t stay on Caraksay forever.”

I note he doesn’t argue with me on that.

“The construction works are more or less complete, at least the phase requiring an architect on site. And I get the impression Nathan has other pressing projects demanding his attention.”

“So, he’s leaving?”

“Probably. Soon. He’ll expect to take his family with him, back to that place of his in Yorkshire.”

“Black Combe.” Rosie has told me something of her childhood home. I know she loved it there, but I can’t somehow see me and Nathan Darke rubbing along happily in the wilds of the Yorkshire moors. And in any case, the spectre of Kaminski looms large. He knows all about Black Combe, I don’t doubt it for a minute. I see no point making things too easy for him.

I need to get to the point. Ethan is already checking his watch.

“I need to neutralise the threat,” I announce.

“I see. By which you mean?”

“Kaminski.”

“You tried that already.”

“I tried playing nicely,” I remind him. “I went to Tenerife to reason with him, to offer him a deal. A good deal. He wasn’t listening.”

“And you have the scars to prove it,” he observes with a wry hint of a smile.

“Exactly. As I said, he needs to be out of the picture if Rosie and me are to be safe.”

He considers my statement for long moments, then, “You mean to kill him?”

I draw in a breath. What’s to stop Ethan calling Kaminski and telling him all about my plans? It’s a risk I need to take. “I have no choice. It’s him or me. Us.”

His gaze is level and not in the least perturbed as far as I can tell. “I see. What do you have in mind?”

“I was hoping you might have some ideas.”

His eyes narrow. “I understand your problem. I’d arrived at the same conclusion, in fact. But he’s an ally. Okay, not one I trust an inch. A treacherous bastard, actually, but I have Janey to think of. She loves him.”

“You won’t help me, then?”

“No, I won’t. But neither will I stand in your way. One stipulation, though, and you’d better listen to me on this. Choose your method with care and do not harm Janey, or you will have me to answer to. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.” I get to my feet. “I’ll let you get on.”

I’ve got as far as the door when his voice halts me. “Family meal in my apartment this evening. Nothing too formal, just us and the kids. About seven. Bring Rosie, and Erin.”

It’s an olive branch. I’ll take it. “Until seven, then.”

Bartosz answers my call on the third ring. “San Antonio. I was expecting to hear from you before long.”

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint. How are you, Bartosz?”

“Not bad. You?”

“Recovering well, thanks to you.” I’m trying to work out where he is. The ringtone definitely sounded to be overseas.

“You still on Caraksay?”

“For now. That’s why I’m phoning you.”

“Thought it might be. So, how do I feature in your future plans?”

“I’m going to take out Kaminski. Before he hits me first.”

There’s a lengthy silence on the other end of the line, then, “And this concerns me how?”

No point beating about the bush. “Will you help me?” I don’t bother to spell out why he has as much to gain as I do from Kaminski’s untimely demise. He knows Kaminski better than I do. He must appreciate what his old boss is capable of.

“I took an oath,” he reminds me. “We all did, somewhere along the line, and that means something. I don’t work for him anymore, but I owe him some loyalty.”

“Do you?” I’d hoped he might be past all that. “He fired you. Just before you quit, as I heard it.”

“An oath is binding, you know that. Sorry, I wish you well, and I understand why you feel as you do. But count me out.”

I end the call, wishing Baz well and sending my regards to his wife and lovely daughter. Looks like I’m on my own.

A bomb on his yacht would be the simplest solution but too indiscriminate. Janey would possibly be caught up in it, crew members, certainly. Even without Ethan’s warning, I dismiss that. I do my killing with precision, and only when truly warranted. Innocent bystanders are not my thing.

A sniper’s bullet. Certainly, a possibility, but I’ll need to hire a marksman. I’m a decent shot, but this is out of my league. I do know one or two potential candidates, though, and the cost is hardly a consideration. This can be Plan B. I start leafing through my contacts, just in case.

A well-placed knife in the gut. That’s one I could deliver myself, and that notion does offer a degree of comfort. No chance of hitting the wrong target, and he’d know who it was that ended him. And why. I’d have to get onto Tenerife undetected — not especially difficult — and pick my time and place. There’s the matter of his guards, obviously, but from what I saw they tend more towards brawn than brains. And once Kaminski has been despatched it’s amazing how fast their loyalties will shift. Makes my head spin to think of it.

I have a definite preference for the knife. I’ll need to slip onto Tenerife under the radar, so not through an airport. Time to check out flights to the neighbouring low-key island of Fuerteventura and local ferry timetables to Gran Canaria and then over to Tenerife. Better still, I’ll hire a motor launch and be in control of my own schedule.

I outline my plans to Ethan. He makes no comment, which I take as tacit approval. Now, I just have to decide exactly when to strike.

“My dad and Eva are going back to Black Combe.”

I take her hand in my free one. The other is fully occupied juggling a squirming Erin on my hip whilst negotiating the steep cliff path to the rocky beach.

“Are you going with them?”

“My dad wants me to.”

“What do you want, cara ?”

“I want to live with you. Where do you think we might go?”

“I’m working on that.” Anywhere in the world, once the threat from Kaminski has been neutralised. “I rather fancy Paris.”

“Oh, yes! I love Paris.”

“Right, that’s settled, then.”

It’s a rare day on Caraksay. Hardly any wind, well, something less than a force-nine gale, and clear skies. A good day for a walk on the beach. Mrs McRae even provided us with a picnic, safely stowed in the backpack slung over my shoulders.

Rosie chatters on happily. “We went to Paris a lot when I was little. Well, all over France, really. We hired a cottage near Montpellier one summer, just me and Dad, and Grace. It was wonderful, swimming in the Mediterranean every day.”

“No Eva?”

“It was B.E. Before Eva.”

“Ah. I see.” It’s one way to divide up your life, I suppose. I tend to think in terms of B.K. Before Kaminski changed to course of my life by murdering my cousins, and after.

We reach the beach, and I set Erin down. She charges off immediately in hot pursuit of an unwary puffin. I dart after her and stop her before she chases it right into the lapping waves. “Hey, let the birdie go home for his dinner, and we’ll have ours right here.”

Persuaded, she wraps her tiny fingers around one of mine and trots back with me, her little legs still unsteady, to where Rosie has already picked a sheltered spot with some conveniently placed flat rocks to sit on. I set down the backpack and leave Rosie to unload our food while Erin babbles about crabs, I think.

Her monologue is interrupted by my phone ringing in my pocket.

I give Erin a chocolate finger to occupy her while I fish around for the device. I recognise the number on the screen.

“Bartosz?” I greet him cordially enough.

“I changed my mind,” he snarls.

“Excuse me?” I move slightly away. I suspect this is not going to be a conversation for a toddler to listen to.

“Kaminski. I’m in. What’s the plan?”

I hesitate. “What’s happened?”

“Loyalty,” he grinds out. “That’s what fucking happened.”

“I don’t follow…” I begin.

“Cuts both ways.” He pauses, then, “Loyalty, and betrayal.”

I’m at a loss. “You’ll need to explain.”

“Kaminski came after me.”

“Ah.”

“But he got my family instead.”

Christ! “What happened?” I repeat. “Are they okay?”

“Drive-by shooting. In S?o Paulo. I took a bullet in the shoulder, and Julia in her right knee. It was a crowded shopping street, there were several other casualties, but we were the targets.”

“You and Julia? Is she going to be okay?”

“Eventually. But…”

My heart sinks. “Lily?” I breathe.

“Shot in the back. Spinal damage. They say she may not walk again.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry. I… is there anything I can do?” Precious little, I’d have thought, from a continent and an ocean away.

“It was Kaminski,” he states, his tone oddly calm now. “Who else? I told you I was loyal to him, because of my oath. I wouldn’t raise a hand against him. He betrayed me, and now he has to pay. That’s how it works.”

True enough, but… “How do you know it was him? After all, S?o Paulo? What the fuck were you doing there anyway?”

“Buying racehorses,” he replies. “So, what’s the plan for Kaminski?”

“I’m working on something, but?—”

“When? When’s the hit?”

“I was thinking, next week, but you’re injured. You can’t…”

“Like fuck I can’t! It’s my left shoulder. I can still handle a gun.”

I’m not convinced. “Shouldn’t you stay with your family? They’ll need you.”

“They need me to sort this, or we’ll never be safe. The man’s deranged, he’ll have another go, and next time…”

“Fair point, but we can’t discuss it here. I’ll call you back. This evening.”

“You do that, or I’ll be going it alone.”

I can’t really blame him, but Bartosz stealing my thunder is the last thing I want. I guess I do have a partner, after all. I end the call and stroll back to our picnic site.

“Everything okay?” Rosie glances cup from tending to Erin’s chocolate-stained fingers with a wet wipe.

“It will be,” I mutter. “I’ll fill you in later. Right now, we have pork pies to eat.”