Chapter 70

CORDES-SUR-CIEL, FRANCE

Michael looks at his daughter and Ryan Richardson, who sit at the small kitchen table. The wooden top is marred with scratches and imperfections, charming in the way only a French table can be. Ryan keeps calling his daughter Alison, but Michael can only see her as Sophia now. A survival mechanism: Never look back. Sophia is somewhere between shock and anger. She’s refusing to leave their home, their life. But Michael knows there’s no choice.

Sophia delivers another outburst at Michael in French: “He should go. He’s not part of this. This is on us,” she says about the boy—he’s a man now—and Michael understands the despair. In some ways, she’s right. Ryan didn’t know Anthony O’Leary, he didn’t take Shane O’Leary’s money. But there’s no question, he’s part of this.

Michael considers their options. How can he get his daughter her life—her third life in less than a decade—back? He could contact Shane O’Leary, try to buy his way out. Twenty million is a lot of money, even for O’Leary. But Shane’s brother was right: this is about much more than money. And even if there had been a chance to buy their way out before, that ended when Michael blew O’Leary’s brother into a million pieces.

Michael dials Ken’s burner phone again, but there’s still no answer. It confirms what Brian O’Leary told him. Ken’s gone.

He continues to kick around his options. If O’Leary won’t make a deal, there’s a more direct and violent option. He’d sworn after Iraq that he’d never take another life, but that bridge has been crossed and burned. He could travel to Philadelphia and blow O’Leary’s Tavern and his home to pieces. Vaporize the man and his entire crew. The authorities would blame rival gangs. And maybe the blood debt would end there. But there is no guarantee that it would keep his daughter safe. Not to mention, it’s an extreme course, one that would likely make national news in the U.S. and prompt widescale investigations.

Michael paces. “I need to get back to the gallery.”

“Why?” his daughter says.

“To clean it up.” He doesn’t need to specify that he must dispose of the man’s body.

His daughter stares at the wooden table again. The red ligature marks around her neck wreck Michael every time he looks at her.

“Afterward, we have to leave Cordes-sur-Ciel,” he tells her. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says.

Michael looks at Ryan, hoping his daughter’s long-ago boyfriend can convince her that there’s no staying in Cordes. At least for now. Once O’Leary’s men don’t check in, more will be on the way.

Ryan’s studying Alison as if trying to decide what to say. “What if there’s another way?” he says at last.

She looks at him, waiting.

“Look, I don’t know why those men were after you, but I know you’ve been running from something for a long time. If it’s mobsters or whatever, then let’s get you into witness protection. Broker a deal that you’ll testify, get every one of them locked up, and maybe there’ll be a way to go back to your life here.”

Michael frowns. “We tried that before.” He tells Ryan about the ambush when they showed up at the meeting to begin the process of joining WITSEC all those years ago in Philly. How someone in one or both federal agencies set them up.

“Then don’t go through usual channels,” Ryan says. “I have a lawyer I trust in Kansas. And there’s a cop there who I think can be trusted too.”

“What cop?” Michael says.

“This deputy sheriff, she’s young, but she’s smart. She figured out that you’re alive.” He looks at Sophia. “You might remember her from high school. She’s Dash McGee’s little sister. You know, Dash from my team.”

Michael almost chuckles. Mac’s daughter.

He thinks about their options. None is palatable. But Poppy McGee can be trusted. He knows that much.

Michael looks at his daughter again. “I think we should try,” he says.

She raises her eyes to his, resignation in her face. She offers a barely discernable nod.

“Make the call,” he says to Ryan.