Page 137 of The Thief
"And then?"
"Then we wait. See which version of events Trace responds to."
Henry moves to the window and stares out at his gardens, where armed guards patrol between the roses. "What if none of them are the mole? What if we're looking in the wrong direction entirely?"
"Then we expand the search. But someone with access to our operations has been talking. Someone close."
"Too close," Denis mutters.
A phone rings, cutting through the tension. Henry's mobile, the secure line only family uses. He checks the display, frowning.
"Unknown number," he says.
"Could be anyone?—"
"No." Henry's voice is flat, certain. "It's him."
He answers on speaker, placing the phone in the center of his desk so we can all hear.
"Henry Gallagher."
"Hello, Henry." The voice is smooth as silk. Trace Harrington, calling like this is a social visit instead of a declaration of war. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important." My back straightens at his voice. The memories of what he did to me hit me like a freight train. I can't help but tremble as he speaks.
"Just planning your funeral. What do you want?"
Trace's laugh is cold, empty. "Straight to business. I appreciate that in a man."
"I appreciate bullets in my enemies. Saves time on conversation."
"Funny. But you won't be laughing much longer. Neither will your precious granddaughter."
My blood turns to ice. He's talking about me like I'm already dead, like it's just a matter of time before he gets his hands on me.
Freddie's beside me before I realize he's moved, hauling me against his chest.
"Big words from a man hiding in the shadows," Henry says.
"Hiding? No, Henry. Planning. There's a difference."
"What's your point, Trace?"
"My point is that one more person is going to die very soon. Someone close to you, someone you care about. And it'll be your fault, just like everything else."
"I didn't start this war."
"Didn't you? You took my wife from me, turned her against everything she believed in, everything we built together."
Henry's face hardens. "Ava made her own choices."
"Did she? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like your people seduced her, corrupted her, and then convinced her to betray her own husband."
"Your wife was playing both sides. She was a liar and a manipulator who got exactly what she deserved." My grandfather's words are cruel, but they do exactly as intended; they hit their mark.
Silence stretches for a long moment. When Trace speaks again, his voice is different. Rougher, less controlled.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? Ava was never coming back to Freddie. She planned to leave you permanently. She was coming back to Ireland because that's where she belonged, with her real family."
