SINS of the Rex Book 2

by Emma Slate

  “That’s it?”

  I shook my head. “No. You know those sweaters I bought in town? I want to sell those. In New York.”

  “Open up a little store?”

  I smiled. “Yeah.”

  “And what about Glenna? Think she’d be on board with that?”

  “I’m going to talk to her tomorrow.”

  “Ach, weel, it’s a very nice offer, dearie,” Glenna said. “But, no, I don’t think so.”

  “But why?” I asked in confusion.

  We were sitting in the back of the storeroom having a cup of coffee and scones that I’d brought. Apparently they did nothing to butter her up.

  “Weel, the sweaters and scarves are fine Highland craftsmanship. What happens when there’s too big an order and we can’t fill it? We’re doing fine, why tempt fate and reach for a new market?”

  “Do you like running the store?” I asked her. “Or would you prefer to do something else? Spend more time with your grandchildren, perhaps?”

  She smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. “You’re a clever, lass, I’ll give you that. But no. I’ve been running this store for twenty years. I knit some of the beautiful things in the store, but I work because I like to be useful. What would I do with retirement?”

  How had I forgotten that the Scots were known for the stubbornness? Prideful, too. Somehow, I thought this would’ve been a slam dunk.

  “Oh, cheer up, love,” Glenna said with a knowing chuckle. “Some of the best things should be kept secret. Don’t you think?”

  “Thank you for your time.” I stood up to go, finishing the last sip of my coffee. Glenna stayed behind, pulling out a clipboard to do inventory. Yep, the woman was old school.

  I headed out to the front of the store and came face to face with Glenna’s granddaughter Katherine. The young woman’s gaze darted from my face, completely skittish.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked her as I passed the counter where she was standing.

  “No,” she answered. “Er, do you like your purchases?”

  I thought it a strange inquiry. “Yes. Of course.”

  She nodded. “And the sweater for the wee one… did you look in that box?”

  “What? What are you talking about? I didn’t buy a sweater for—”

  “It was a gift,” she stressed. “Make sure you read the card.”

  In a total state of confusion, I left the Highland wool store, trying to piece together what the hell Katherine was talking about. I couldn’t go home yet and figure it out because I still had a few more errands to run. I couldn’t even do them in Dornoch, I had to go to Inverness.

  I left another message for Flynn, just wanting to check in, but of course he didn’t answer. I tried to believe that was a good sign, but I knew next to nothing. I also hoped Sasha kept Flynn from reacting with his emotions. Flynn was as close to breaking as I was. We were both like rubber bands and when we snapped we were going to inflict pain. I hoped it wasn’t on each other.

  I didn’t for a second wonder what would happen when Flynn discovered who had taken Hawk. The person would pay, and not quickly. I wanted to look into the face of the person who had stolen Hawk from our home, right out of his crib, and deliver my own form of punishment. I never used to think I was bloodthirsty. I didn’t believe in hurting the innocent, but this person wasn’t innocent and had dared take my child from me.

  Aye, there would be a river of blood before all this was over.

  I loved Inverness. Considered the “gateway to the Highlands” it was close to Loch Ness and the battlefield of Culloden. The streets were brick and the large town was clean. There was also a university, and though it was newer and younger than Oxford or St. Andrews, it was close to Dornoch. I had a meeting with the head of the history department.

  Though he was very kind, he couldn’t offer me any sort of position within his department at that time. I knew it had been a long shot, despite my own credentials. I never considered using the clout of the Campbell name to get my way. There were certain things that should be won on merit and character because it would mean more.

  Before we left Inverness, I treated Callum to a quick bite in a pub before driving back to Dornoch.

  “It’s going to snow again,” Callum said.

  “Yeah?” I asked, looking out the window at the white sky. “It’s not cold enough for it to snow.”

  “Temperature is going to drop. We’ll get some snow that will stick.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  Callum looked at me in the rearview mirror and I could see that he was smiling due to the wrinkles at his eyes. “Because I’ve lived in Dornoch most of my life and I just know.”

  “Did you ever leave? For college or to travel?”

  “Aye, I lived in Sydney for a bit when I was younger, but I came back because I missed the rain.”

  I chuckled. “And the Scotch, right?”

  “My family owns a distillery. Did you know that?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “It’s not as well known as Glenmorangie and what have you. We’re a small but proud, family operated distillery.”

  “Do you work there?”

  “Not lately,” he answered. “Driving for Flynn Campbell is a full-time duty.”

  “Do you miss working in the distillery?”

  “Aye. I’m from a big family, you ken. It’s hard not being there every day.”

  “Then why don’t you quit? And go back to it?”

  Callum turned down the road that would take us back to Malcolm’s estate. I still thought of it as Malcolm’s home and it was hard to reconcile the change that it now belonged to Duncan.

  “Because there are some things that you have to fight for, that you believe in strongly.”

  “The SINS?” I asked.

  He nodded. “My parents… they don’t understand. Then again, they’re set in their ways.”

  “I think that’s the argument all children have been making against their parents since the beginning of time.”

  Callum laughed. “Aye, I suppose so. And I bet my own son will one day fight me on our differing ideas.”

  “I didn’t realize you had a son,” I said.

  “Oh, I don’t. I was speaking about in the future.”

  Did I really know so little about the men who were involved in this cause? Though I had met some of the wives and mothers of the SINS members, I didn’t know them. Not really. As Flynn’s wife, it was my job to stand by his side and unite our people in a different way. Because I did consider them my people even though I hadn’t been born to them.

  Chapter 25

  “Have you seen my shopping bag?” I asked Ash.

  “Ah, no,” Ash said.

  “Do you even know which shopping bag I’m asking about?”

  Ash dog-eared a page of her magazine and then looked up. “The one from the wool shop?”

  I nodded.

  “Jeanie took it—did something with it,” Ash said, mentioning the housekeeper that cooked and did light chores.

  “Maybe it’s in the laundry room?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” she said absently.

  I took the stairs that led down into the laundry room. It was in the opposite part of the castle as the dungeon and I was glad. I tried not to think about the prisoner we kept below. When I thought of Elliot, I became instantly enraged. Better to compartmentalize how I felt about him.

  I flipped on the light of the laundry room that clearly had once been an old cellar. It was chilly and I shivered. The washing machine and dryer were off and there was a stack of folded sheets on the wood table.

  My phone rang, a feeling of relief running through me. “Hi,” I said.

  “Hen,” came Flynn’s deep and gravelly voice. It never failed to turn me on.

  “You’ve resurfaced.”

  “For the moment.”

  “Any news?”

  “No.”

  “Damn.”

  “That’s not why I called. I wanted t
o check in with you. How was the doctor’s appointment?”

  “Great. Better than great. We can get down and dirty.”

  “Best news I’ve heard in days,” Flynn said, his voice becoming a husky growl. “All right, love, there isn’t anything to report and I better get off the phone before I start asking you what you’re wearing.”

  “Hiking boots and nothing else.”

  “Sexy. Love you.”

  “Love you, be safe.”

  “Always,” Flynn said before hanging up.

  I went back to searching for the sweaters, but they were nowhere to be found. I saw the boxes sticking out of the garbage can. I pulled them out, setting them aside. I dug through the garbage, but I didn’t find any note that Katherine mentioned. Completely frustrated, I thought for a moment. Picking up the smallest box, I took off the lid. There was a small envelope taped to the underside of the box. It had easily been overlooked because both were white. I pulled it off and ripped it open. My heart stopped beating for a moment.

  I have your son.

  There was a phone number.

  I wasted no time debating; I called the number and held my breath. The person answered on the second ring.

  “Barrett,” the voice said. “Thank you so much for calling.”

  A gasp of surprise involuntarily escaped me. I recognized the voice.

  “Still there?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I asked, but it came out in a breathy whisper. “I’m here.”

  “I’m guessing you want your son back. Obvious question I think.”

  “If you’ve harmed him—”

  “You’ll do what, exactly?”

  I fell silent.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now pay attention, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” Fred Winters said.

  I used to believe I could be rational under any and all circumstances. I thought of my time with Dolinsky. I’d somehow been able to compartmentalize all that I was feeling, shoved away my emotions for the greater cause of getting back to Flynn. I’d done whatever I’d had to, and I would’ve done more.

  But nothing—nothing—resembling rationality existed when my child was involved. I’d gladly go through torture, literally walk through fire, to get Hawk back. My life was nothing if he wasn’t safe.

  During the phone call, I’d sunk down to the laundry room floor. Now, I pulled myself up and forced myself to stand.

  Fred Winters.

  The persona non grata ex-FBI agent had a personal vendetta against me. I hadn’t just ruined his career—I’d made him look incompetent. I’d pretended to feed him classified SINS information, but it had all be a set up. He arrested me, but hadn’t had a warrant. Flynn and I had gone to the press as anonymous sources and ruined him.

  And now he was back to ruin me. He’d taken my son. He wanted me crippled, malleable.

  Sticking the card in the back pocket of my jeans, I headed for the stairs. Before I opened the door to the main floor, I pulled myself together because Ash could read me when something was wrong. No one could know about this. Not even Duncan. It had been one of Winters’s stipulations.

  I had to meet him alone—and he knew I would because even if there was a chance that he was lying about Hawk, the threat to my child was enough to get me to do Winters’s bidding.

  “You’re leaving again?” Ash asked, coming out of the sitting room into the foyer as I reached for my coat.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been redoing Hawk’s nursery. I started the project the other day. I’d like to finish it today.”

  “Want me to come along and hang out with you?”

  I forced a smile. “Thanks, but I think I want to be alone. In fact, I think I’m going to drive over there myself.”

  She frowned. “Really? But you’re supposed to take a bodyguard with you whenever you leave—”

  “You ever just need to get out by yourself?” I asked her.

  “Of course.”

  “I’m taking a car and I’m driving myself the fifteen minutes to our house. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” she said. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am.” I embraced her. “I’ll be back soon.”

  The driver on duty, a younger man than Callum, didn’t want to give me the keys to a car. But I was able to bully him into submission because I was Flynn Campbell’s wife, and I used the power of my name and position to get my way.

  I drove to the castle I shared with Flynn and parked. I didn’t go to the nursery, which was a complete and utter mess. I hoped it would be put back together and more than anything I hoped there was a baby to sleep in it.

  Entering the master bedroom, I paused at the doorway. Memories of nights spent in this room came to me, clouding me. I closed my eyes and thought about Flynn, his arms tight around me as he moved inside me. A cry escaped my mouth and because I was alone, I allowed myself to break down. I cried for it all, wondering if I was ever going to see my son again, wondering if I’d be alive myself to watch him grow.

  After I gave in to tears for a few minutes, I pulled it together. I went to the bedside drawer and got out my six month wedding anniversary present from Flynn. I stuck the hairpin into my messy bun and with a final look around, I went to meet Winters.

  I drove an hour north west of Dornoch. I passed through Lairg, a town with the population of 900 people and who knew how many sheep. It was in the middle of the Highlands, and a unique town because it wasn’t on a coast. It wasn’t much to see.

  I turned off the main road onto a dirt one and bounced my way along the path. The road snaked through green and rolling hills and if I was in a better frame of mind, I might have been able to appreciate the beauty of it. But I was heading into the unknown. Stupidly, foolishly, without back up, taking the word of a man who had no honor. It was for Hawk. I’d do anything for Hawk.

  Fred Winters was resting against the hood of a black SUV. I parked and climbed out of the car. He looked different since the last time I’d seen him. His clipped brown hair had grown out a bit and it fell across his forehead. The Scottish breeze teased the hair at his ears and he pulled up the collar of his coat. Glancing at the sky, annoyance flitted across his face before he turned his gaze to me.

  His annoyance disappeared and he smiled like he was seeing an old friend. “You came.”

  “Yes.”

  “Wasn’t sure you would,” he said.

  I leaned against the closed door of my car, refusing to take a step towards him. “You have the most important thing in the world to me, but before we go any further, you show me proof.”

  Winters pondered my statement for a moment and then nodded. He pulled out his cell phone, tapped a button, and waited. He turned up the volume and then I heard someone answering. Winters waved me over, and I came to his side and looked at the screen. Hawk was in a crib, sound asleep. In the two and a half weeks since he’d been gone, I could already tell he was bigger, his cheeks plumper.

  Something inside of me unfurled. Hawk was alive and I would do anything to ensure he stayed that way.

  Winters hung up and the screen went black. He stuck the cell back in his pocket and gestured with his chin to the black SUV. “Get in.”

  “No. I came here, we speak here.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “I’m not having a discussion out here. It’s cold, it’s about to rain, and I don’t want to get soaked. This cashmere coat cost a lot.”

  “I didn’t know ex-FBI agents could afford cashmere.”

  His jaw tensed. “Get in.”

  A small part of me was glad I could still get under his skin. The bigger part of me realized I needed to shut the hell up. The man had my son.

  He didn’t reply as he got into his car. With a reluctant sigh, I got into the passenger side and closed the doors.

  “Just so we’re clear,” he said, facing me. “If you kill me, you don’t get your son back. Because if I die, your son is bound on a plane for America to be adopted by a nice barren couple. He’ll grow up ne
ver knowing anything about you. You want that?”

  I looked out the window and didn’t answer.

  “We have no reason to trust each other, you and me,” he went on.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why did you take Hawk? Was this a vendetta against me for destroying your career?”

  “That would make me a psychopath,” he pointed out. “Did you ever think I was a psychopath?”

  “I’m starting to rethink everything I thought I knew about you.”

  “Don’t waste your energy. In fact, you should rest.”

  I frowned in confusion. “Rest?”

  Winters nodded. “I insist on it.”

  I felt the pinprick in the side of my neck. Not again.

  Chapter 26

  I heard the sound of rain and cracked my lids open. They were gritty, heavy with sleep.

  “She’s awake,” came Winters’s voice.

  “About time,” another man said. An Englishman with a posh accent. I knew that voice.

  I lifted my head and looked towards the hushed tones. “I should’ve known,” I said, my voice raspy.

  Lord Henry Arlington stood next to Fred Winters, the angle of their heads making them appear as if they were conspiring.

  Arlington looked at me. “Yes, you should’ve known.”

  I tried to move, to sit up, but I was weak. “Where am I?”

  “Not important,” Winters said.

  “Then why did you drug me?” I demanded.

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t come willingly.”

  I glared at him. “You never asked.”

  “Let’s not do this,” Winters stated.

  “You started it,” I growled, finally managing to prop myself up in the chair. I felt like an old marionette, my arms and legs refusing to work unless someone controlled the strings.

  I glanced around; I was in some sort of cabin. It was cozy and a fire was lit. I would’ve enjoyed it a hell of a lot more if there wasn’t a dull ache at the base of my skull and my mouth wasn’t dry and chalky.

  Without having to ask, Lord Arlington came to me and offered me a bottle of water. I didn’t thank him for it, but I chugged it down and let out a sigh when I’d finished all of it.