Destroy Me - Ella Sheridan Page 0,4
be interested in, to see if I could lure her in, at least get her poking around.”
“But wouldn’t that mean other hackers might be able to get to the information as well?”
“No worries. None of it’s real. Plus I used a unique access similar to what we have here, knowing she’d designed it. Without her personal knowledge, no one is getting past my firewalls, trust me.”
Sounded like Greek to Fionn, but whatever. He was better with his body than he was with a computer. “Al’right.”
“Okay, so…” The click of keys came through the line—Tucker typing. “I set the traps last week, and early this morning…I got a nibble.”
“A nibble?”
“Right. Someone tried to access the data. I tell ya, she’s good. I mean, I knew she was, but still I almost missed it.”
A crunch sounded in Fionn’s ear, followed by chewing. Fionn didn’t even flinch. “You’re saying Sheppard might’ve slipped up? I’m not buying it.”
“Hey, I can’t vouch for motive. All I can do is pass on info.”
“Tell me you’re after getting a location.”
“Still running it, actually. The woman knows how to bounce, that’s for sure.”
That much Fionn could decipher—Sheppard was bouncing her signal so they couldn’t be tracing it.
“But it looks promising,” Tucker was saying around crunches. “You might wanna come down here. Shouldn’t be too much longer before I know something definite.”
Sheppard was too smart for this. His gut didn’t trust it. Not leaving a trail was intelligence training 101. But this was also the only trace of hope he’d had in the past two months. Was it worth the risk, knowing it might be a trap?
He glanced around the office that had grown into more of a cage than the home it used to be. Trap or not, it was worth risking. “I’ll be right—”
“Hold it.”
Fionn waited, pacing restlessly through a pause, more typing and crunching. A beep sounded in the background.
“We have a winner!”
He reached for his desk drawer to retrieve his keys. “Where?”
Tucker hummed over the line. “Someplace called North Quigley Village. Hey, that’s Ireland, looks like.”
“Where?” No. No no no no. Fionn forced himself to be thinking, to breathe, to not open his mouth and let the man on the other end of the line know exactly how panicked he suddenly felt.
“Is that anywhere near your former neck of the woods, Irish?” Tucker asked. “It’s not a big country, is it?”
No, not really. But it was big enough that Sheppard had hundreds of places she could be without picking the one town no one connected with him should be knowing about.
“No, not my neck of the woods.” He had to be heading out of here. “Listen, e-mail me the intel, all right? All of it. I’ve got to head.”
“Sure, but—”
Fionn hung up before Tucker finished his response; it was either that or drop the receiver, the way his hands were shaking. Sheppard was in North Quigley Village. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
It wasn’t. He knew it, deep down in his gut. Lyse Sheppard was hiding in the one place he’d vowed to never go, near the most important person in his life. The person he’d promised to protect no matter the cost, nearly two decades ago. Could he honor that vow and still bring in the woman who’d betrayed them all? Betrayed him?
He clenched the keys in his fist till they threatened to break through his skin. Think, Fionn. Think!
But there was nothing to be thinking about. If Sheppard was in the same town as his mam, it was for a reason. Just one more strike against her.
He’d tear her apart before he’d let her harm his family.
He was rushing down the hall with his next breath. He had a plane to catch—and then he’d catch a traitor.
Chapter Three
A gentle breeze blew across Lyse’s cheeks, and she closed her eyes, resting her head back against the brick wall. The chatter around her, the evening gathering at the local pub, The Hairy Lemon, fell away as she focused on the touch caressing her hot face. There was something different about the air in Ireland, something soft, clean. If green had a feeling, this was it—there was no other way to describe how it touched her skin, filled her lungs. Good. Pure.
Would this be the last time she felt a breeze like this? Would this be the last evening she spent on the Lemon’s patio, drinking with her friends?
“What’s the story, Lyse?” Sean settled in the chair next to her and passed over the Orchard Thieves she’d