Irish Bear's Bride (Boston Bear Brothers 3)
So, those people would be missed by outside society and it was better no investigation be made into the clan community. They would be moved to a human area where they maintained their primary residence and show up as an animal attack or horrific accident, depending on the condition of their bodies. Some were too horrible to explain and died in fires that decimated them to ash.
There was nothing that spoke to any of this happening in the current news there now, so she could only assume things were still in play. Underneath her need to know when things happened was a twofold desire. She wanted to know that Niall was okay and she was hopeful that putting an end to Trill and the Maguire Clan that backed him would mean she could go home, though she’d be hard-pressed to tell you if home now meant Ireland or wherever she could be with Niall.
Putting the phone aside, she got things ready for work tomorrow and glanced at her watch. It was only five, and she was out of things to do. She felt anxious as she looked around at the spotless house. She could watch the telly but wasn’t in the mood for it.
Instead, she ordered pizza and opened one of the bottles of wine she’d found in the cabinet, sitting down on the sofa to sip merlot and read a book titled Women in Business, A Guide to Startups. It wasn’t exactly exciting reading, but she didn’t want to waste time finding a way to do better than waiting tables at someone else’s cafe.
She’d already finished her second glass when the doorbell rang, sending her heart into a crazed punk style spasm of dance. She reminded herself that she’d ordered pizza, laughing at how on edge she was, even being safe from Trill.
Opening the door, she quickly found that she’d not been so wrong to be concerned. Instead of a pizza guy, there stood two men in dark suits. Her heart began to race again as she tried to keep her calm.
“Deanna Caine?” one of them asked.
“Yes?”
“We have a delivery for you,” one replied, handing her a stuffed manila envelope.
“From whom?” she asked, looking at the dense package in her hands.
“We’re just the messenger. Have a good day,” the same man replied.
She watched as the two of them turned to leave, encountering a pizza delivery boy on a bicycle. Neither of them bothered to move out of his way, sending him off the walkway and onto the grass, where he lost control as his bike hit a small divot in the ground.
“I’m okay, mates. Thanks for asking, ya utter ball bags,” he shouted back at them, holding the pizza above his head as if to demonstrate he’d salvaged it despite his spill.
Neither of the men turned or paused, instead disappearing down the sidewalk. Deidre stepped outside the front door and watched them as the pizza guy recovered himself and approached her with the pizza. They stepped into the back of a black cab down the street and drove in the opposite direction.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude to your guests,” the pizza boy told her.
“I don’t think they are my friends,” she replied, her voice unsure as to what had just happened.
“I can see why,” he told her. “Anyway, I brought your pizza.”
“Thank you,” she told him, fishing a couple of quid from her pocket for a tip since she’d not seen a place to add one on the app when she paid using “Deanna’s” debit card that had been included in her envelope with her passport and such.
“Cheers for that,” he replied as she stepped back inside with her pizza and envelope and sat them down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
She picked up her wine and took another sip, looking at the envelope suspiciously before opening it. She realized it might just be more paperwork from the man in Bootle, as he’d be the only one who knew where to find her. Tearing open the top, she poured out a stack of papers and a small bag containing a man’s jewelry. She puzzled at it for a moment and then opened an envelope with her name on it, her eyes growing wide as she read it once and then again.
“Fuck me,” she muttered, not her usual sort of language, but appropriate for what was lying in front of her right now.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Niall
There he was, right on time. Niall watched from the edge of the woods, already in bear form, waiting for him. He could hear the raised voices as he argued with staff.
“Where the fuck is my mother?” he roared.
“I’m sorry, Mr. O’Leary. We don’t know. It’s highly unusual for her to wheel herself out of her room, but it seems that is what she’s done.”