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Thomas made a series of lefts and rights, and then suddenly the shooting stopped.
“The van turned off,” Zion announced.
“Police station straight ahead.” Thomas slowed the vehicle.
“Okay, maybe don’t actually go into the police station.” Fred pushed me off him with a roll of his eyes. “The alley there, back in.”
Once we were parked we did a check-in. Glass was everywhere, from the seats and floor to our hair and clothes.
Aiden was nicked on the arm, but Thomas was able to wrap it with gauze we had in the first-aid kit.
“Everyone else okay?” I tried to see each person the best I could from my spot.
“Fine. Pissed off, though.” Fred shook the shards from his hair. “Could it have been Finn or the others?”
I shook my head. “It was the same van from the other day. Unless it’s been them all along.”
My phone buzzed at the same time Zion’s did. “Aurora.”
“Everything okay, Praeses?”
“Just a day in the life of the Irish mafia. We’re fine, did you have anything for me?”
Fred glared at me, and I wanted to bite his lower lip every time it jutted out.
“I do. We were able to get IDs on the five men: Rafferty, Liam, Cian, Murphy, and Keir Byrne. I did a deep dive as soon as they were identified. They flew into Westford International Airport five days before the shooting but haven’t flown out. They’re still there.”
“Interesting. They’re known to take hits from anyone, no questions asked. They just want money. They’re slimy but will do exactly what they’re told as long as you give them what they want.”
I was familiar with the Byrne family. I’d call them assassins, but they were more like guns for hire. They had no code or honor. They were disgusting and ruthless. They wouldn’t stop until the job was done. When it all went tits up after Fred didn’t die, I’d guess they were who was in the van, and in the two vehicles the other day.
“Yes, Praeses.”
“Keep digging, Aurora. See if you can find any paper trail on the money. It might be impossible but if anyone can do this, it’s you.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll contact you if I find anything. Stay safe.”
“I’m trying.”
I disconnected the call and looked at Zion. “Was that Beau? How’s everyone in their SUV?”
“Everyone’s fine. They were behind the van, and they’re still following it.”
Fred smiled, an honest-to-God smile. “We need someone alive.”
“Understood.” Zion was texting.
“Aurora was able to identify the men in the photos Albert found.”
“Who were they?” Fred was so eager—we were getting answers, and with Beau tailing the van, hope was on the horizon.
“The Byrne family.”
He shook his head. “Who?”
“They’re from Meath, Ireland. More like mercenaries, not assassins. They have no morals—they kill for the highest bidder. They were sloppy at the restaurant because they wanted to be. Aurora is trying to follow the money.”
Fred sighed, and it was loud and full of relief. “Oh my God, we’re getting somewhere, finally.”
