The bed shifted, but it wasn’t that faint movement that woke me.

It was the sudden absence of Briar’s warmth that penetrated the fog of sleep and had me stirring in the bed. I rolled onto my side and peered through the darkness to see her naked back just before she disappeared through the bathroom and shut the door.

A thin strip of light appeared, brilliant in the shroud of darkness.

Squinting against it, I rolled onto my back until my eyes adjusted.

I heard the shower come on, and I rubbed at my lids until the sleep cleared. I was so damn tired. It was the kind of exhaustion that stemmed from something deeper than a need for sleep. All this shit I was dealing with, and now, knowing I was running out of time with Marcos…and the woman of my dreams.

Groaning, I pinched the bridge of my nose as the weight of everything bore down on me.

Stop brooding and think.

With the sound of her in the room next door, so close, it didn’t make it any easier for me to think, but I centered my thoughts and began to plan.

By the time the door opened, I had the first part of my day planned out and was thinking about seeing if I can do a repeat of the previous night as she started toward the bed.

Briar rested her hip on the mattress next to me, bending over to peer into my eyes.

“I’m awake,” I said. My eyes were more adjusted to the darkness than hers after she’d spent so much time in the brightly lit bathroom.

She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust.

From the corner of my hand, I saw her reaching up. Catching her hand, I guided it to my cheek.

“Hey,” she murmured.

“Hey, back.” Rubbing the ends of her hair between my fingers, I asked, “What do you think about the two of us grabbing dinner tonight?”

“I think it’s a grand idea.” In the darkness, I could see a smile on her face. It faded fast, though, and she heaved out a sigh. “But I’m stuck working doubles the next two days so I can have Friday and Saturday off. Don’t forget I have to work on Christmas.”

“Still on for Christmas Eve?”

“Yes.” She gave me an arch look. “And for Christmas evening, I thought we could bunker down in the house…you, me…a bunch of movies, some booze. What do you think?”

“I think I like that plan.”

She bent low, and either her eyes had adjusted to the dark, or she had excellent aim because she managed to find my mouth unerringly, pressing her lips to mine.

“Guess you’ll have a busy few days,” I said as she pulled away.

“Beyond.” She sighed and kissed me once more. “There’s a spare key hanging on a hook by the phone near my fridge. Why don’t you grab it and use it to lock up?”

She was off the bed in the next second. I smiled at her, but she was already striding out the door.

Left in the quiet dark of the room, I closed my eyes.

Blowing out a breath, I lay there, my mood getting more and more grim by the minute.

It was fully light outside by the time I dragged myself out of bed. I killed another ten minutes taking a shower, then another ten brewing a cup of coffee. I only drank a few sips of it before dumping it out and cleaning up after myself.

I could waste another few hours here, but it wouldn’t change anything.

I knew what I needed to do, and it was time I got it done.

I didn’t go to my hotel.

First, I went to the store and bought a pay-as-you-go phone, loaded it up with minutes, then spent a good hour driving around the city as I used the car charger to power up the battery.

Once that was done, I headed down to the waterfront. I didn’t go to one of the popular walking or shopping areas, though. I’d been here long enough to locate some of the more off-the-beaten-track areas, and I headed to one I’d searched out just for this.

After parking, I climbed out of the car and walked around for a few minutes, pacing and rubbing my hands in a weak attempt to warm them. I wanted a cigarette. I’d quit smoking years ago. Too many of the men who hired me were in their fifties and sixties, and after listening to the heavy, deep coughing fits from two of them who’d been diagnosed with cancer, and after taking in the yellowed teeth of several more, I decided I was done. My decision to quit was strengthened even more by the nicotine withdrawal.

I didn’t like it when anything had that kind of hold on me, not even cigarettes.

But now I craved one.

Not the nicotine, really. Just the way a smoke had a way of soothing the nerves, even though it only lasted for a few minutes.

I could use that.

But instead of getting into the car and driving to the convenience store I’d passed a mile back, I pulled out the cheap phone and punched in Marcos’s number.

I didn’t question whether he’d answer.

In his line of business, he had business contacts springing up out of the woodwork—and people offering to sell his enemies up the river. He’d answer, give whoever was calling a minute to catch his interest before deciding if he’d stay on the line.

He’d take my call.

He answered with a terse, “Hello.”

“It’s MacTavish.”

“Cormac!” Immediately, his voice changed, full of that fake, boyish charm he used, right up until he decided it no longer served his purposes. “What’s the matter, my friend? Did you lose your phone?”

“No.” I faked a disgusted sigh. “I’m just being cautious. I think a guy who hired me a while back is pissed I couldn’t commit to a job he wanted me to do. His son works in tech, and I started getting some random calls. I turned it off and took out the battery for now.”

That was all bullshit. I didn’t want to risk Marcos—or some tech-genius associate of Jerrel’s—using the phone to track me over the next few days as I tried to settle the headache of this job.

“I’ll have to dump this one in a few days, probably. The guy already knows I’m in Philadelphia, so if he comes looking for me, don’t be surprised if I end up calling you from another phone in a few days.”

“Would you like me to handle the matter? I’d only need his name,” Marcos said.

“No. He’ll get the point I’m not interested. And it’s better off if you don’t get involved, I think. He’s got government contacts.”

I waited for some bravado bullshit about how Marcos wasn’t worried about the government, but they never came. He was still being watched very closely by the city of Philadelphia, and I doubted he was going to risk fucking up and going to jail until after his trial.

“As long as you are certain,” he said in a diffident tone after a few seconds.

“Yeah, I am. Most that will happen is that he sends his kid to try and intimidate me, and trust me…that didn’t work well for him last time. All he can do is throw money at me, and you throw a lot more than he does.”

Marcos laughed warmly. He could be a charming son-of-a-bitch.

“Anyway,” I said, once his laughter had faded. “I wanted to give you an update. I’m going to be spending a fair amount of time at the Downing estate over the next week.”

“Is that a fact?” Marcos didn’t quite manage to hide his eagerness, despite the bored tone he projected.

“It is.” The cold wind sliced right through me. Hunkering against my car, I turned my back to it and stared off at the steely, cold gray water of the Delaware River as it rolled by. It echoed the color of the sky overhead while the wind whistled through the stand of trees that surrounded my small area. “I’m having brunch with them this Friday. Then I’ll be going over again on Christmas Eve.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

His dry tone put my back up.

“I’ll have plenty of time to spend wandering around the place. Apparently, Seamus Downing lets all his people off for the week between Christmas Eve and the day after New Year’s. Both at the house and at his businesses. Must lose an awful lot of money for that.”

Marcos finally seemed interested. “There won’t be any employees around?”

“I don’t think so.” I kept my voice casual. “Might have some light security on his businesses. I mean, he’d be a bloody fool not to have something, wouldn’t he?”

“Yes.” In a thoughtful tone, Marcos murmured, “Yes, he would.”

A thought occurred to me, and I swore silently before taking a deep breath and striving for nonchalance. “Briar did say that he usually keeps extra guards at the house, though. That’s one thing he apparently doesn’t scrimp on. Maybe he’s had trouble there before. I can look into it.”

Marcos made a low murmur under his breath that could have been anything—agreement, skepticism, who the fuck knew?

Finally, he spoke. “Okay, Cormac. This is good information. Let me know if you learn anything worthwhile at the house, okay?”

He was gone in the next moment.

I shoved the phone in my pocket and stared out over the water. The wind blasted me yet again, but I didn’t seek the shelter of the car. Not yet.

For what I was doing, I deserved some kind of punishment. Freezing my ass off wasn’t much of one, but it was a start.

My belly was full.

Too full considering the way my head was pounding. It probably didn’t help that I’d let Briar talk me into a mimosa. Champagne didn’t seem to be my thing, but I didn’t have time to sit down and let it wear off.

Daria and Isabel were out in the back garden. They’d invited me, offering to show me around, but I’d excused myself.

The rest of the Downings were in one of the family rooms.

The three of us who weren’t part of the family had politely stepped out to give them some time alone after Seamus had put in a family video of the last time they had a family Christmas before Briar’s mum died.

I didn’t even know if they’d noticed me leaving.

I hoped not.

If they had, at least I had a plausible reason for my absence, because both Isabel and Daria were gone too.

And I’d damn well rather be biding my time in the halls of a nice warm house than outside in a garden. It wasn’t like there were flowers or anything to see right now anyway, were there?

Thanks to the tour Briar had given me the first time I was there, I was able to make a beeline for the room I wanted to check out, and I went straight there, walking as fast as I could without outright running.

I doubted I’d have too much time, even though they’d all been good and distracted.

The good news was that Seamus’s office contained the kind of fancy shit that would fit into plenty of fancy museums, including a collection of old weapons. I once worked a job for a man who’d been a professor of medieval history—as well as a small-time drug dealer—and he liked to talk. As in talk my fucking ass off. Still, I’d learned some interesting things from him, and I could identify a few of the pieces I’d seen, so if anybody came in, I’d claim I’d come in here to look at the weapons again. The floors were hard polished wood, so unless somebody was trying to sneak up on me, I’d hear them before they got too close.

The big problem was that Seamus might not mind putting priceless antiques on display, but he wasn’t quite so free with any useful information. I checked the drawers of the elaborate mahogany desk, but it looked to be a custom piece, and although I tried to jimmy the locks, I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t half bad at picking the typical lock, but these were more than that. I might have been able to do it if I wasn’t worried about leaving any signs, but that was the last thing I wanted to do.

Frustrated, I moved away from the desk.

A sour feeling settled in my stomach as I roamed the room, but there was nothing I could find anywhere in there that might work to satisfy Marcos.

Fucking Marcos.

I was coming to hate the prick more and more with every passing day.

And myself too.

The Downings were no saints. That was just the truth. But they’d been decent enough to me, and they clearly loved Briar.

And she loved them.

Whatever I did, I was going to cause her pain, and that knowledge was eating a hole through me.