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I grip the edge of the kitchen counter, grinding my back molars together.
“You still there?”
Fuck.
“I’ll check my diary.”
I hang up before he can reply, sending my cell skidding across the oak countertop.
I told Lorcan war was coming.
* * *
Poppy answers the door to the Quinn estate in overalls, Valentina balancing on her hip.
“Do you ever wear anything that isn’t black?”
I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, ruffle Valentina’s hair and push past them into the lobby. “No, black hides the bloodstains. Where’s your husband?”
“In the doghouse.”
Surprised, I cock my head in her direction. “Not possible. You two have morphed into the perfectPinterestcouple.”
She laughs, stroking her daughter’s hair. “He’s in the Museum. He broke my favorite Ming Dynasty vase by trying to teach Valentina to catch.In the house,” she flusters, rolling her eyes. “So I’ve sent him to my workshop to fix it.”
“The joys of married life.”
As I stalk down the hallway towards the back of the house, Poppy calls after me, “Tell him he’s not getting any dinner until it’s fixed!”
I raise my hand in recognition and stride through the grounds to the Museum. A three-story, cobbled building with ivy snaking up the side. To my surprise, the main door isn’t locked. I take the stairs two at a time up to Poppy’s workshop.
I find Lorcan looming over the workbench, shirtless, staring at a pile of porcelain in disbelief. He looks up at me, wearily. “Fuck, kid. This is more complicated than any puzzle I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how she does it, restore shit like this.”
I shrug. “Just buy her a new one.”
“Hmm.” He holds up the palms of his hands like he’s weighing up his options. “Poppy pretending she’s pissed at me for an hour,” he holds his other hand lower, “Flying to China and convincing the Billionaire with the only other identical Ming Dynasty vase in the entire world to hand his over.”
My lips twitch. “I don’t know. You can be pretty persuasive.”
Lorcan laughs. “I’ll save the hassle and ride out the storm here. Anyway, what brings you here, kid?”
I suddenly remember I haven’t come over to check on the rose garden.
“Luca Abruzzo contacted me this morning. Wants to meet to discuss a job.”
His face hardens. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck.”
“Did he say what for?”
“No, but I can probably guess.”
“He wants me dead.” His lips curl into a snarl, and he thumps the work surface, sending precious porcelain flying. He rests his palms on the table and says, “Two more of our business owners in Philly have gone missing. One never made it home from the office; the other disappeared from his bed at night. I reckon since his stunt with Humphrey made the news, he’s trying to be more subtle. It’s a warning sign to us.”
“Picking them off one by one.”
He pins me with a blistering amber glare. “Exactly. Luca really is a dumbass. A bright-eyed, bushy-tailed dumbass.” He pops his knuckles. “Needs to learn his place. Needs to learn that taking Philly and South Jersey from him will be easier than taking candy from a baby.”
