Chapter 32

Rafe poured Juliet another cup of coffee, his jaw cranking. Her comment about their not being in a relationship had hurt, and he regretted how he’d handled it. He knew her closed-off attitude hid fear—fear he was responsible for. But what more could he have done last night to show her how much he loved her?

Nate finished off Juliet’s plate of French toast and poured his own coffee. His long hair was tied behind his neck. Despite the jacket he wore over his jeans and blue T-shirt, Rafe was sure Nate carried one if not two guns. He didn’t even try to hide the knife sheath on his belt.

Nate placed his dish in the sink. “You okay, bro?”

“Great.” Rafe turned too fast, and hot coffee burned his wrist. “Shit.”

Juliet and Samantha came in, and he inhaled sharply. In his oversized sweatshirt and her hair in a complicated braid, Juliet was so lovely his chest ached.

Calum tossed a bag onto the couch. “Morning, beautiful.”

Juliet went into his arms. “How’s your sister?”

Calum wrapped her up, and Rafe hated him. Then he noticed Calum’s puffy eyes and wrinkled tux. Calum had never gone home. As much as the twins fought, they were bound by a force field of love and loyalty. The kind of link Rafe had always wanted with Juliet.

Calum let go and pulled chairs out for both women. “Carina is awake and giving orders.”

“I hate to ask.” Juliet’s forehead wrinkled. “What about my bill?”

Calum sat and cradled his coffee. “No idea.”

“We have until three p.m.” Juliet took the cup Rafe offered. “That’s when the payroll company needs the deposit in order to cut the checks by six.”

“One problem at a time,” Calum said.

“Which is why I asked you all here this morning.” Rafe stood against the counter, arms crossed. “We’re tied together, fighting an enemy we can’t see, for a reason we don’t know.”

Pete grabbed a donut and sat on Samantha’s other side. “We need to catch Balthasar before he hurts anyone else.”

“Amen, Brother.” Nate leaned against the fridge as the front door opened.

Garza swooped by without a smile, dropped his jacket on a club chair, and went for the coffee. He wore his holster over a dress shirt, his weapon secured against the side of his chest.

Rafe locked the door and noticed Garza carried a knife in his back waistband and a leg holster beneath his jeans. The cop had loaded up too. Interesting.

Holding his mug, Garza sat on a stool, the heels of his boots hooked on the lowest rung. “I’ve had a hell of a night. So start talking.” He stared at Nate. “Or I start arresting for impersonating a PO and stealing evidence.”

The skin over Nate’s cheekbones seemed tighter and more translucent than yesterday.

“What evidence is he talking about?” Calum asked Nate.

Nate tapped his foot. “I took Deke’s cell phone because he was my only source of anti-seizure meds.”

“You wanted his phone to contact his source?” Garza’s voice reeked of incredulity.

“Pretty much. But the phone was encrypted.” Nate drank his coffee and added, “I overnighted it to Luke. I’m hoping he can open it and give me a contact name.”

Garza threw up a hand. “Who’s Luke?”

“Our unit’s comm expert,” Pete said. “Think computer guru/wizard/god wrapped up in the body of a twenty-five-year-old Green Beret.”

“That phone was evidence from my murder scene,” Garza said. “I’m responsible.”

“You’ll get it back,” Nate said.

“Then what?” Garza put down his mug and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You’ll buy illegal drugs again?”

“It’s not heroin or meth. They’re anti-seizure meds.” Nate paused. “They’re legal in Canada.”

Garza moved, and Rafe put a hand out to stop him. “It doesn’t matter.” Then he looked at Nate. “How’re you doing without the drugs?”

“I have one left. I’m managing.”

“Good.” Rafe faced Garza. “Luke isn’t going to tell anyone anything.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Nate’s unit has their own shit to deal with.” Rafe studied the room, his attention always drawn back to Juliet, who refused to look at him. “This is what we know. Someone’s been terrorizing Juliet—vandalizing her store, destroying every image of her lily.”

“He even stole her lily door knocker.” Samantha held a black mug with Got Ghosts? stamped in white letters. “Sooooo creepy.”

“Agreed,” Rafe said. “The same lily was given to four women associated with Nate’s unit the night they were attacked and imprisoned in Afghanistan.”

“Where are your men now?” Samantha asked Pete.

“They’re in Leedsville, a secret military prison.”

“Never heard of it,” Garza said.

Pete shrugged. “It’s in Minnesota. The rest of us who were at the command center that night have been suspended and go on trial on Friday. Nate and I are here collecting evidence to save our unit.”

“If you go on trial”—Samantha reached for Pete’s hand—“will you go to Leedsville?”

“Yes.” Pete kissed her palm. “And Nate returns to a military psych hospital in Maine. Our only clue is that lily, which Luke traced to Anne Capel in Savannah.”

Rafe handed Juliet’s phone to Nate. “At Juliet’s manor, we found stained-glass windows that told a story about the lily.”

“I see pirates,” Nate said, flipping through the photos on the phone. “The archivist at the SPO told me the Capel family worked with the Prioleau pirates—”

“Prideaux pirates,” Calum corrected.

“—in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.” Nate handed the phone to Pete, and Samantha and Calum leaned over to see.

“I’ve never seen these at Capel Manor,” Calum said.

Juliet sipped her coffee. “My daddy boarded them up.”

“They’re dark,” Pete said.

Samantha snorted. “I’m not sure which is scarier—the window with the dead men on the pirate ship or the woman being hanged.”

“That’s Anne Capel,” Juliet said. “Even though she was pregnant, they were executing her for killing forty-four kids with a poison she supposedly made from the lily. Except the rope broke and they let her go. A few days later, her lover was murdered by his own brother.”

“Sarah, the archivist at the SPO, believes Anne was trying to help those kids,” Nate said. “They’d gotten sick, and Anne was healing them.”

Rafe pointed to another photo. “In another window, there’s a woman, probably Anne, handing two vials to men offering a scroll in return.”

Pete whistled and gave the phone to Garza.

“The man is bowing,” Garza said.

“He’s a Fianna warrior,” Rafe said. “I believe Anne Capel made a deal with the Fianna to protect these vials. Which is why the current-day Prince knows about them.”

Juliet fiddled with a ring on her thumb. “One of the vials may contain poison from my lily.”

“And the Fianna wants the poison for its own purposes?” Garza said.

Samantha grimaced. “Even if a vial contains poison, it’s three hundred years old.”

“That might be the most important question of all.” Garza started making another pot of coffee. He paused to glance at Rafe. “May I?”

“Go ahead.” Rafe studied his squad while the water hissed. Samantha and Juliet both had dark circles under their eyes. Pete had traded his badass gunmetal lip piercings for a sleeveless black tank over black combat pants. Nate’s pale face and darting eyes made him look strung out. Calum looked…unkempt.

Calum cleared his throat. “When did this happen between Anne and the Fianna?”

Juliet wrapped her hands around her mug. “Anne escaped hanging in 1677. In the window where she’s giving away the vials, she has an infant. So it must be 1678?”

Calum crossed his arms. “King Charles signed the Carolina King’s Grants in 1663. The Savannah grants were later, so the timing’s right.”

“What’s a King’s Grant?” Pete asked.

After Calum gave them a rundown, Garza’s sigh screamed boredom. “So?”

Calum raised an eyebrow. “Maybe this Fianna warrior is offering Anne a King’s Grant in exchange for the vials.”

“Which would mean King Charles was in on the gig?” Garza said.

“It’s possible,” Rafe said. “A lot of monarchs worked with the Fianna until the American Revolution.”

“Enough history.” Garza poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. “Two explosions were set off last night: one at the restaurant and the second less than a minute later at the transformer in a tunnel outside the hotel. That’s what took out the power grid. I had no idea there were tunnels in Savannah.”

“Most are closed,” Samantha said. “I give ghost tours of the safer tunnels and cisterns.”

“How many dead?” Nate asked.

“Only Miss Habersham. Over thirty wounded. The restaurant blast was an expertly controlled explosion designed to blow out, not in.”

Rafe wasn’t surprised by the news. Just surprised the explosion wasn’t larger. “We’re lucky. Balthasar could’ve hurt more people. Last night made a statement without going for maximum damage.”

“A statement to who?” Garza asked.

“Balthasar was telling me he could get to those I care about and telling you he could control this city by cutting the power.”

“Why?”

“Is Escalus where you last left him?”

Garza dialed his cell. After talking to someone in the morgue, Garza threw his phone down. “Escalus’s body is gone.”

* * *

The fresh brew should’ve cleared Nate’s head. Except everything was foggier than ever. And now Escalus’s body was gone? “How’d you know, Rafe?”

Rafe shrugged and stared at Juliet, arms crossed. His silent stance was at odds with his jaw’s crank-fest.

Garza rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Did Balthasar take Escalus?”

Juliet sighed. She seemed smaller tucked into a huge sweatshirt. The shadows under her eyes had darkened, and she stared at the photos while Rafe watched her.

“I think so.” Rafe caught Nate studying him. Even though Rafe was visually stalking his wife, there was no apology or shame. “The Fianna brings soldiers back for burial.”

“Back where?” Pete asked.

“Iona,” Rafe said. “An island in the Scottish Hebrides.”

“Oh.” Pete clasped his hands behind his neck. “Okay.”

“What will Balthasar do with Escalus?” Samantha asked. “Keep him iced?”

“Balthasar would’ve had a plan in place.” Rafe paused to grind his chompers. “We should check out dry ice sales or temperature-controlled shipping.”

“The chief has a detective on it.” Garza started texting. “Looking for a safe house in the historic district might be a better bet.”

“Good idea,” Rafe said. “Balthasar must have a command center somewhere close to the explosion. He’s too arrogant to leave. He’d never believe he’d get caught.”

“I can help,” Calum said. “I have listings of available properties in the city.”

“There’s something else,” Nate said. “Yesterday Sarah discovered that there are no satellite photographs of the Isle of Grace.”

Rafe tilted his head. “None?”

“There’s been a blackout over the Isle since aerial reconnaissance began.”

“Sheeeet,” Pete said. “That’s too weird.”

“That takes power,” Garza said. “And money.”

“Fianna money?” Juliet asked.

Rafe lifted a shoulder. “Don’t know. What about the map?”

“Nothing.” Nate studied his boots. “Compass rose was off thirty degrees. It’s useless.”

“Then why did my daddy hide it in my trunk?” Juliet asked softly.

Nate focused on the gold ring she wore on her thumb. “No idea.”

Garza drummed his fingers on the table. “A law firm in New Orleans—Beaumont, Barclay, and Bray—paid for Escalus’s rental car. Does that mean anything?”

Calum nodded. “It’s one of the oldest firms in the country.”

“They’re corrupt as hell,” Samantha added. “After my mom died, they sold her estate and accused me of stealing.” Juliet took her hand, and Samantha half smiled. “I’m over it.”

“I didn’t know that,” Calum said in a flat, hard tone.

“What does a corrupt law firm have to do with a Fianna warrior?” Pete asked.

Rafe held out both hands. “No idea.”

At this rate, Nate’s men were going to spend a combined four hundred years in prison.

Garza’s phone buzzed. He read the text, and his shoulders slumped. “Escalus’s journal is gone also. Taken from my locked desk. During the outage.”

Nate washed out his mug and laid it on the counter to dry. “I have three questions.” He faced Garza directly. “Why are we sharing with you? Why are you helping us? And how do we know you’re not gathering intel to use against us?”

Garza crossed his arms. “Last night, after the debriefing, I walked home. On the way, I met a Fianna warrior named Arragon. He knows I’m translating Escalus’s journal and investigating Rafe’s release and Nate’s background with the 7th Special Forces group. Arragon disapproved of all three activities and, after threatening my family in New Jersey, he bowed.”

* * *

“Who’s seen a man bow?” Rafe asked in a dark voice.

“Last night,” Calum said, “before the explosion, I was outside with Mr. Delacroix smoking a cigar. A man across the street bowed to us.”

“How low?” Rafe asked.

“Halfway. I guess.”

“Could you tell what race he was?”

“It was too dark, and he was too far away.”

Rafe turned to Garza who said, “Halfway. Dark-skinned. Bald, tattooed head. Not as tall as you but built like a gladiator.”

All heads turned toward Nate. “In tribal dress and fatigues, all the way to the ground.”

“Does it matter?” Pete asked him.

“Yes.” Rafe collected mugs and spoons and stacked them in the sink. “Garza met Arragon. I have no idea who was in Afghanistan with Nate, and I’m not sure if Calum saw Balthasar or Arragon.”

Juliet ran her top teeth over her bottom lip. Although Rafe was in mission mode, he felt a sudden need to clear the room and kiss her senseless. “Juliet?”

“I saw someone bow in Forsyth Square last night. It was dark, and I thought I’d imagined it.”

“What kind of bow?”

“He hit his chest with his fist and bowed his head.”

Rafe exhaled. Thank God. “Samantha?”

“Yesterday, a man bought all of Abigail Casey’s hand-painted prints. He was tall and muscular, dark-skinned, with a French accent. He had tattoos on his bald head. It was a huge sale—three thousand dollars. After I wrapped everything up…” She glanced at Juliet. “He hit his chest with his fist and bowed his head.”

Pete frowned. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“No!” She touched Pete’s arm. “He was courteous and kind.”

Calum looked at Juliet. “Were the prints Arragon bought the ones on the wall that looked like your lily in medieval prints?”

“Yes.” Juliet tucked a hair behind her ear. “Abigail is a renowned botanical artist. I sell them for her on commission.”

Nate and Pete glanced at each other before Nate said, “Did you ask Abigail to paint that lily? Or did she do it on her own?”

“I never asked her,” Juliet said. “Abigail’s specialty is roses. One day she sent me the lily prints, and they were perfect for the shop. I assumed she used my business logo as her inspiration.”

“Who’s Abigail Casey?” Garza asked.

“The wife of a man in Nate’s unit,” Juliet said. “We knew each other when Rafe was in the unit, and we’ve remained friends.”

Nate clasped his hands behind his neck. “Abigail’s husband is in prison with my men.”

“So,” Pete added to the convo, “Abigail, who received a lily herself the night of the operation, is incorporating them into her artwork, and the Fianna is buying it up.”

“Seems like,” was all Rafe could say.

Pete raised an eyebrow. “What’s the difference between Arragon and Balthasar?”

Rafe poured the last of the coffee and drank it hot and black. “Arragon is a French Algerian with dark skin and eyes almost as green as Nate’s. Balthasar has brown eyes and brown hair. It’s possible Arragon is in town moderating this game between me and Balthasar.”

“Is Arragon dangerous?” Pete asked.

“Lethal.” Rafe put the pot in the sink. “But he’s not here for you and Nate.”

“That’s a relief.” Pete leaned back, balancing the chair on its back legs. “Although I’m feeling left out. I’ve seen shit.”

“And the level of bows?” Garza asked.

“A head bow is a greeting or farewell. A half-bow is a watch-and-wait threat. But”—Rafe pointed at Garza—“that can easily turn into a full bow. Especially if you tell your superiors anything you’ve heard today or anything you read in Escalus’s journal.”

“Figured,” was all Garza said.

“And a full bow”—Rafe sighed—“means you’re marked for execution.”

All eyes turned to Nate, who held up both hands. “Yes, I’m freaked out about what I may or may not have seen. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Man,” Pete said on an exhale. “It sucks to be you.”

Nate gave him the finger. “Thanks, bro.” Then he apologized to the laughing women.

Rafe squeezed the bridge of his nose, thinking out their next move. “We need to find the vial and the grants. Juliet and I are meeting Sarah the archivist on the Isle later. She may have some documents belonging to Juliet’s father.”

“I’ll go back to the SPO,” Nate said. “I’ll see if I can learn anything else about Anne Capel and her lily.”

“Good.” Rafe gave another order. “Calum and Garza, find Balthasar’s safe house. He’s got to be in the historic district.”

They both nodded.

“I’ll handle the store,” Samantha said. “Bob is at the work site, and the only thing scheduled is a wedding consultation.”

“I have a job interview at two,” Pete said. “I’ll take Samantha with me.”

“Interview for what?” Nate asked.

“Self-defense teacher at your home away from home. Iron Rack’s Gym.”

“Why? The trials start Friday.”

Pete stood and held Samantha’s chair. “Still need food and ammo, bro. And I want to start before the new owner takes charge.”

“Excuse me?” Calum stood. “New owner?”

“Yeah,” Pete said. “Place is for sale.”

“Interesting.” Calum grabbed the bag he’d dropped earlier. A minute later, they all held new burner phones. “Our numbers are programmed with our aliases.”

Pete laughed. “I can guess who GhostGirl is.”

Samantha smirked. “No laughing, RezBoy.”

“I don’t know whether I’m offended or just annoyed.”

Calum clapped Pete on the back. “I’m sure you’ll learn to love it.”

“I’m Copper?” Garza said.

“It’s pronounced Coppa,” Calum said. “Very New York.”

“I’m from New Jersey.”

“Oh.” Calum scratched his chin. “Right.” He looked at Juliet. “You okay with yours?”

“Petals? Really?”

“Better than KiteMan,” Nate said, scowling. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Calum said. “I’m SmartFox.”

“Good grief.” Juliet and Samantha shared a smile. “I think we know who LetsFight is.”

“I hit things too,” Nate said.

Rafe laughed. “Maybe Calum will let you change your name to FightsBack.”

“No.” Calum started texting. “I’m going to see Carina. Pops will move Philip into my mansion until he recovers.” Calum kissed Juliet on the cheek and opened the door to find Bob on the other side, his fist in the air, in the middle of a knock.

“Miss Juliet?” Bob took off his hat. “The windows.”

Rafe took Juliet’s hand and rushed out. The others followed until they stood in front of her store windows. Red paint covered her logo. But more worrying were the words scrawled below: A PLAGUE O’ BOTH YOUR HOUSES.