“If you loved your da, we would still be a clan!”
“I know!”
“You killed—”
“Kieran,” Ava’s form takes root near the corridor leading into the kitchen. There’s a sheen of perspiration on her lip. How long was she gone?
With a faint tremor in her tone, Ava says, “I’ve checked all over . . .”
“What is it, Lassie?” I ask, too ornery to believe the unimaginable. My heart sinks as Ava mutters the same words Mam rages in my ear.“Something’s wrong.”
34
Ava
Atornado named Kieran uprooted and turned over every single inch of the house. He blew past the newly constructed five-thousand-piece puzzle the three of us had started and kicked the frames in for the other puzzles we completed over the last week. He grabbed another gun as if the one tucked in his jean waistband was obsolete. Next, Kieran shoved yet another Glock in my direction.
Now, a light shower mists softly against our faces. I look toward the forest. A cloud of dense fog sweeps through the trees. I burrow in my quilted coat and loop my arms around my stomach. The gun Kieran dumped into my hands burns a hole at my waistline.
“Where could she have . . .” My voice trails off as a line of men flank the edge of the driveway.
“You uselessfecks have seen nothing!” Kieran snarls, pointing his handgun at each of them. At first, I’m afraid he might fly off the handle and shoot them all execution-style. I don’t blink when he bowls one of his henchmen over on the ground. The end of Kieran’s barrel taps the back of poor sap’s ear. It’s moments like this when I know Kieran can be an absolute beast.
“Please don’t kill me,” the man on the ground stutters, mouth chock-full of grass.
“Where’s my wee sister? She’s little, but she ain’tthatlittle to have evaporated into thin air, no.” Kieran snarls. “What do you all take me for? Thenumptiestmotherfeckin nuggetin the stratosphere! You caught Ava leaving in the middle of the night and brought it to my attention.” Exaggeratedly, Kieran glances around. “It’s day. Aye?”
“No.” The man alone speaks for himself, the others quietly watching.
Urged not to be a worthless bystander, I ask, “Who’s the last person you all saw leaving?”
A few gruesome beats pass, and I increase a few octaves. “Who? Before he kills you all!”
“The maid.” One speaks up.
“What time?” My voice croaks, a mixture of insistence and attempting to match the increasing tempo of the rain.
“Thirty minutes ago.”
“You.” Kieran grips the arm of one guy. “Take her in the house. Lock up.”
I take a few steps, spine rigid. “No, I’m helping you—”
“Ava!” Kieran’s twisted mouth hurls my name. The look of pure menace on his face rattles my bones.Chica, are you loco?I ask myself while walking in his direction.
“Thirty minutes ago,” I quietly tell him. “That had to be Kiera.”
He groans, “It was Bertha.”
“Cállate la boca,Kieran!” I fork a hand through my once silk strands, which are now a mop of tight spirals, like my father’s. I ask the guards, “What was she wearing?”
Kieran opens his mouth, and I push at his chest. “Please, you have all this control. Let me help. Just this time.”
His mouth bites into a tight line.
“Bertha was dressed in a hat, a trench coat, too.” One guy reluctantly offers.
“No,” another one speaks up, eyes flickering toward Kieran as if regretting he saw something. “Bertha wore her usual.”