He kissed her again and then turned to leave, Deidre right on his heels to follow him to the front door. He opened it and stepped out, turning to smile at her just as the taxi to the train station pulled up in front of the house.
“Remember, be safe.”
“I will,” she told him.
The man that had visited the restaurant had never returned, so there was no way of knowing what he had wanted, but the fact that he’d not come back was a good sign. Hopefully, this was nothing to be concerned about, but Niall had every intention of making sure of that. If he found that the Scouser had put her in further danger, things were going to get really ugly, really fast.
He stepped into the cab and sat down, waving at her as she stood in her robe at the door waving back. It was all he could do not to tell the cabby to stop so he could go back to her, but he couldn’t afford that. He had responsibilities, and they had to come first.
“Where are you headed?” the driver asked.
“Euston,” he told him.
He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, picturing her face in his mind as the car bumped along the streets toward the train station. He could still smell her scent and taste her lips on his. He was enjoying the memory until he was jarred from it by the sound of his phone ringing.
“What’s up?” he said, hitting accept on the call from Ronan.
“We’ve got problems.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Trill’s money is missing and Duncan is having a fit about it.”
“How is that our problem?”
“He’s causing a stink about how we used the local clans to cash in on Trill’s funds. He says it is clan money and we stole it. It’s not setting well with the other clans, who think we should either give it back or share it with them to help get back on their feet.”
“Well, that would be fine if we had it, but we don’t. How do they think we would have even laid our hands on their money?”
“Come on. You know we have an accountant back home that can wipe out Jeff Bezos if he puts his mind to it.”
“True enough, I guess, but we didn’t take Trill’s money, so they’re going to have to look elsewhere.”
“They have. The money was withdrawn by a man saying he was Trill.”
“How much money are we talking about?” Niall asked.
“Millions, but I don’t have a specific figure.”
“Just tell him we don’t have his money and he can fuck off,” Niall replied.
“I did. Like I said, it just isn’t setting very well with the locals.”
“They’ll get over it.”
“I sure hope so, or we’re going to have another war on our hands.”
“They’re just desperate. Trill has kept them down for a long time. They’re broke and grasping at straws. They’ll calm down once they get back to their own business, as usual. How are we coming along with re-establishing a community?”
“We were doing great before Duncan interfered. Now, there’s a lot of grumbling.”
“Aye. I’ll be back soon. I have to stop in Liverpool to check on something. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour. Then, I’ll be on the ferry back to Belfast and on the train to Dublin. Should be there well before dark.”
“Good enough. See you then.”
“Yes, you will. Oh, and Ronan?”
“Aye?”
“If Duncan gets too out of hand, you’ll need to teach the locals a Boston-style lesson. Got me?”
“You don’t think that will make matters worse?”
“Nope. Put him down if you have to.”
“Aye,” Ronan replied, ending the call.
“We’re here,” the driver said a few seconds later.
Niall paid his fare, adding a hefty tip, and headed out into the train station, pretty much walking in and showing his ticket, then stepping right on the train. He sat back and closed his eyes, getting in a decent nap before he hit Lime Street Station in Liverpool.
A couple of hours later, he was standing in front of a rundown old house, waiting for someone to answer the door. After a while, an old woman who looked like she’d just taken shelter from off a sidewalk opened the door slightly.
“I have an appointment,” he told her.
“Name?” she asked.
“Niall McNally,” he replied.
The woman opened the door and invited him in, taking a quick look around before closing the door again. She led him to a basement door and unlocked it, waving him toward the dimly lit staircase on the other side.
“You want me to go down there?” he scoffed.
“It’s up to you. I’ve no fucks to give,” she snapped back at him.
Niall grunted at her disapprovingly and descended the stairwell, noting the loud clicking as she locked him in from the top. He wasn’t concerned. He’d rip the door off the hinges if he had to in order to get back out again.