Page 71 of Forbidden Bond
Imogen was pacing in Steeple’s office. Back and forth, worrying her hands.
“What’s going on?” Tulip asked. “Need any help?”
“You have a story to write.” Maybe that was a little blunt, but she didn’t have time for tact. Going into Steeple’s office, from which he was absent, she retrieved her phone from her purse. “Imogen?”
“Oh my God, where is he?”
“Your dad was at Hustle last night.”
Gasping, both Imogen’s hands leaped to her mouth. “I knew it! I knew it. I said it to Jagg and—which hospital is he at?”
Probably not a good idea to tell Imogen about the whole kidnap and torture thing.
“Not one you’ll find on any map,” she said and dialed. “I’ll tell you everything, just give me a second.”
“What for—”
“Macushla?”
“Baby, do we know where Ford is? Strat’s boy?”
“Aye.”
Okay, good, she waited for a location. Waited… and waited… “Mo Grá?”
“He’s safe, unharmed. Working with us.”
“Oh…” And Imogen’s eagerness came ever closer, so she backed away a few steps. “Somewhere I can tell his sister who’s standing right in front of me?”
“No.”
Hmm, this would be an interesting dance. “What about Jagg?”
“He’s downstairs in the car,” Imogen said.
Sersha hadn’t been asking the woman, and her guy got that.
“Was left behind to guard the daughter,” Conn said. “If she needs more protection, Daly can divert some of the guys from the club.”
“Imogen’s just worried. Can I take her to…?”
“No.” Clarifying, and awkward, given the woman was right there. “Tell anyone you care about to stay off the streets tonight.”
Chilled, the awkwardness gave way to concern. “Mo Grá?”
“It’s under control. And I’m proud of you.”
Uh… “For what?”
“Your work with that reporter, playing by McDade rules. You’re getting it, Cushla Machree. Exercise those muscles.”
“The CI was—”
“I know who the CI was.”
Her jaw loosened. “Why didn’t you—”
“I know things.” Something she should make a habit of remembering. “Told you it was handled.”
