Grim Offerings (Aisling Grimlock Book 2) (20 page)

“Yay!” Jerry clapped excitedly. “Now, let’s talk about having guys’ nights. I know you were joking, but I think they’re a great idea. Instead of shooting pool, though, we should go to a spa. I don’t like getting that blue chalk on my fingers. It stains.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen, Jerry,” Griffin said.

“Besides, spa days are what we do together,” I reminded him. “I don’t want Griffin to displace me in your life.”

Jerry beamed.

“So, everyone is okay here, right?” Griffin pressed.

Aidan nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Now someone feed Aisling. She’s been whining about breakfast for an hour.”

Aidan lifted his eyes up to me. “Are you happy now?”

“We’ll see,” I said. “I’m happier, if that helps.”

“Good. Now, tell me what possessed you to go on a date with Morgan Reid. If I don’t like your answer, I’m still going to beat the snot out of you.”

And things were back to normal.

“Is there a reason we couldn’t have done this over the phone?” Griffin parked in front of Grimlock Manor later that afternoon, his morning smile replaced with a grim frown. “I thought we were going to spend quality time together.”

“We did that last night,” I said. “We did it this morning, too. We also did it after you and Aidan made up.”

“That’s not quality time together,” Griffin said. “Not everything is a euphemism for sex.”

Huh. You learn something new every day. “Dad wants everyone together for a meeting. He’s technically our boss. I had to come. You didn’t.”

“Yes, but I wanted to make sure he didn’t hijack you again and try to make you stay here,” Griffin said.

“He only did that because of the wraiths.”

“He did it because he’s a control freak.” Griffin pocketed his keys once he got out of the car. “You’re all control freaks.”

“I am not a control freak. I’m easygoing.”

“Has anyone … other than yourself, I mean … ever accused you of being easygoing?”

I searched my brain. Someone must have. I snapped my fingers. “My fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Lucifer, did.”

“Mrs. Lucifer? That can’t have been her real name.”

“No, but she looked like a female devil. Her real name was Mrs. Lumen.”

“And she said you were easygoing?”

“When my parents went in for parent-teacher conferences, she told them that compared to my brothers I was the easiest one,” I said. “That’s the same as being easygoing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Get in the house,” Griffin ordered.

“You’re awfully bossy,” I grumbled. “No one ever accused you of being easygoing, did they?”

“I’ll have you know most people think I’m very easygoing,” he said. “It’s just when I get around you and your family that my demeanor shifts.”

“Are you saying you have multiple personalities?”

“Have you been watching soap operas again?”

“Hey, soap operas are wondrous things,” I argued. “They take the everyday and make it surreal.”

“You really are a lot of work,” Griffin said.

“Again, I did all the work last night … and this morning.”

“Stop saying things like that in your father’s house,” Griffin warned. “He already thinks I’m a sexual deviant.”

“Just wait until he really gets to know you,” I said. “Then he’ll know you’re a sexual deviant.”

“Work. Work. Work.”

“OKAY,
we have some new information,” Dad said, leaning forward in his desk chair and steepling his fingers in front of him. He always did that. He thinks it makes him look scholarly. “Why is he here again?”

I glanced at Griffin. “Because he’s part of this, and he was at my place when you called.”

“Why was he at your place?”

“Because he spent the night.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Are you trying to give me an ulcer?”

“Are you … ?”

“Let it go,” Redmond said. “That townhouse is a den of sex and debauchery.”

I shot him a look.

“I wasn’t talking about only you,” Redmond soothed. “I was talking about Aidan and Jerry, too.”

“Thanks, man,” Aidan said.

Redmond clapped him on the back. “Don’t mention it.”

“Oh, I’m going to mention it,” Aidan said. “I’m just going to wait until Dad isn’t watching.”

“I’m going to help him mention it,” I threatened.

“I think you have your hands full already,” Redmond said.

“No, she had her hands full this morning,” Aidan said, waggling his eyebrows.

“You shut your filthy mouth,” Dad exploded.

Aidan had the grace to look abashed. While things weren’t perfect between us again the tension had noticeably eased.

“Oh, it’s all fun and games until Dad’s aorta blows,” I teased.

Griffin pinched the back of my neck. “I’m starting to feel uncomfortable.”

“I am, too,” Dad said. “Aisling, you can’t sit there.”

I had settled on the arm of Griffin’s wingback chair when I entered the room. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be constantly wondering where Griffin’s hands are,” Dad said.

“They’re in his lap.”

“Go and sit with your brothers,” he ordered.

I rolled my eyes, but did as I was told. I pushed between Braden and Cillian, forcing them to make room for me on the leather couch. “Move over.”

“Sit over there.”

“I want to sit here.”

“We don’t want you to sit here,” Braden said.

“I want her to sit here,” Cillian said, slinging an arm over my shoulders. “I’m a good brother.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” Dad said.

Cillian shot a smug look in Braden’s direction.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Braden said. “I’m going to be back on top in a few days.”

“All of you shut up,” Dad snapped. “We have serious business to attend to.”

“Yeah, stop being immature,” I said. “You’re going to give Dad a heart attack.”

Braden poked me in the ribs.

“I will never understand why your mother insisted on procreating,” Dad said.

“I think you should’ve just had one child,” Redmond said. “You had perfection with me. You mucked everything up by adding the rest of them.”

“I see we all have the attention span of gnats today,” Dad said. “I’ll make this brief.”

“That’s what Redmond does on all of his dates,” Aidan said, smirking.

Dad extended his finger. “Not one more word.”

We all snapped our mouths shut. We’d pushed him about as far as we could safely manage for one afternoon.

“As I said, we have some new information,” Dad said.

“Where did this new information come from?” I asked.

“I’ve been working on the computer,” Cillian supplied. “Dad won’t let me do anything else.”

“That’s because you’re recovering,” I said. “You need your rest.”

“Listen to your sister,” Dad said.

“Oh, man, can you say that again?”

Dad furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I need you to repeat the ‘listen to your sister’ thing, but I need you to wait until I have my phone out so I can record you,” I said.

“I will gag you if you don’t shut your mouth,” Dad said.

I mimed zipping my lips.

“Anyway, I’ve been going through Reid’s finances,” Cillian said.

Griffin leaned forward. “How did you get his financial information?”

“Let’s just say it wasn’t legal,” Cillian said.

I watched Griffin to see how he would react. Instead of flying off the handle, he merely shrugged. “Continue.”

“His clients are interesting,” Cillian said. “All of them have a rap sheet.”

“Do we have a short list?” Braden asked.

“Well, not exactly,” Cillian said. “There was one name that looked fairly innocuous until I delved a little deeper.”

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Redmond said. “What’s the name?”

“Sylvia Dobbs.”

“Is she that woman who won the lottery last week?” I asked.

“No.”

“You need to learn how to tell a story faster,” I said, snapping my fingers. “I’m feeling the urge to nap coming on.”

Aidan rolled his eyes. “That’s because you were up all night … .” Dad cleared his throat. “Watching
The Golden Girls
,” he finished.

“Sylvia Dobbs appears to be a normal woman,” Cillian said, trying to alleviate the snowballing tension. “That’s why she stood out.”

“No one is normal,” I said.

“Especially not you,” Aidan said.

“Oh, and you’re the poster boy for normal,” I scoffed.

“I will kill you both,” Dad threatened. “Cillian, please finish. If your sister opens her mouth again, shove something in there to shut her up.”

“I think that’s Griffin’s job,” Aidan said.

Dad’s clenched jaw muscles tremored.

Cillian was trying hard not to laugh. “Sylvia Dobbs has financial ties to someone else we know,” he said.

“Who?” Now I was genuinely curious.

“Duke Fontaine.”

The joking attitude that filled the room seconds earlier dissipated quickly.

“Who is Duke Fontaine?” Griffin asked. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember why.”

“Duke Fontaine is Dad’s nemesis,” I said.

Griffin racked his memory. “Is he the freelancer who keeps trying to steal souls for the highest bidder?”

I nodded.

“He’s the one who fought with you and Cillian a few weeks ago, right?”

“He is,” I said. “He’s a horrible asshat. I won that fight, by the way.”

“I won that fight,” Cillian corrected. “You slipped in and stole the scepter while I used my impressive muscles to protect your honor.”

I patted his shoulder. “Your muscles are impressive. Griffin’s are better, though.”

“So, how is Sylvia Dobbs tied to Duke Fontaine?” Griffin asked.

“We’re not completely sure,” Cillian said. “There are financial ties. She has made a series of payments to Fontaine.”

“How much?”

“Three payments,” Cillian said. “Fifty-thousand each.”

“Well, not that I don’t find that suspicious, but how can we be sure she’s a person of interest? It could be just a coincidence,” Griffin pressed. “I’m not sure why this is so important.”

“The first payment was made the day before the first attempt on Morgan Reid’s life,” Cillian said. “The second payment was made the day before the second attempt on Reid’s life.”

If Griffin’s face was any indication, things were starting to fall into place for him. I still needed further explanation. “When was the third payment?”

“Yesterday.”

“Are you insinuating that Reid is supposed to die today?”

Cillian shrugged. “It could be a coincidence.”

“Well, I’m not going to shed any tears if Reid dies,” I said. “Is he on our list today?”

Dad shook his head. “Our list is light. Part of our workload has been shifted to other groups until this Reid situation remedies itself. If he does show up on a list, though, I’ve been promised that it will come to us.”

“Where do you guys get these lists?” Griffin asked. “Do they come from … God?”

Redmond snickered. “They come from the main office.”

“There’s a main reaping office?”

“There is.”

“Huh. That’s … just so weird.”

“You’ll get used to it,” I said. “If Reid isn’t on any lists, that means he’s safe for the day. If I understand what you’re hinting at, though, you’re suggesting that Sylvia Dobbs hired Fontaine to kill Reid. You’re forgetting that someone else was supposed to kill Reid that first day. His name showed up in the files, and he was the one killed by the wraith. Plus, he was killed with a knife. We’ve seen wraiths use weapons before, but usually only as a last resort.”

“Maybe Spencer was on Fontaine’s payroll,” Redmond suggested.

“Do we have any proof of that?” Griffin asked.

Cillian shook his head. “Just a theory.”

“That still doesn’t explain why the wraiths keep showing up,” I said. “We also don’t know who was supposed to kill Reid the second time. It wasn’t in the file.”

“Is that normal?” Griffin asked.

“Reaping is like any bureaucracy,” Dad said. “Sometimes the paperwork isn’t complete.”

“That’s a freaky thought,” Griffin mused. “So, what we need to find out is how Sylvia Dobbs and Duke Fontaine play into all of this.”

“Essentially,” Dad said.

“Well, I can go into the office and look through our files,” Griffin offered. “I won’t be able to do it until tomorrow, but I’m willing to try. I’m not sure I’ll find anything, but it can’t hurt to look.”

“Will that put you in a bad spot?” Dad asked. I was surprised he even cared about Griffin’s professional well-being.

“It shouldn’t be an issue,” Griffin said. “No one will question what I’m doing.”

“Well, that’s a start then,” Dad said. “I’m going to talk to a few contacts as well. To my knowledge, no one has seen Fontaine since I ran him out of town a month ago. He could be back, though. Just because we haven’t seen him doesn’t mean he’s not here.”

“Great,” I said. “What do you want us to do?”

Dad smiled. “You and Aidan are going to work today.”

Bummer. “Why?”

“It’s your turn,” Dad said. “Don’t worry. It’s only one job, and it came up at the last minute.”

“Where is it?”

Dad smiled. “Presbyterian Hospital.”

Crap. I hate hospital jobs. “Fine. I want a raise, though.”