Chapter 19. The Lavender Heir

Chapter 19 – Lydia

The rain had finally eased by the time the ferry docked in Dublin, but the roads were still slick as Lydia’s husband guided the car through the winding country lanes. Moschops gave a low, pitiful yowl from the crate in the back seat, scratching occasionally at the bars as if the journey was a personal insult.

“Nearly there,” Steve said, glancing at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. He’d been a police sergeant for nearly two decades, and it showed in his careful, steady driving. But his knuckles were white on the steering wheel all the same.

Lydia twisted around in her seat to peer at the crate. “We’re almost there, Moschops. I promise,” she said softly, though the words were as much for herself as for the cat. She thought about her kids back in Essex and hoped her mother was not too put upon taking care of them.

She sat forward again, clutching the dashboard as though that might make the car go faster. “I should’ve called sooner,” she murmured. “I just… I kept hoping I was wrong.”

Steve reached over and squeezed her knee. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Heather’s brother’s farmhouse came into view at the top of a gravel drive, its windows glowing warm against the night. Remote and surrounded by fields, it was exactly the kind of place Heather would retreat to if she needed to vanish. Lydia barely waited for the car to stop before she was out, her boots crunching on the stones. Moschops gave an indignant yowl as the crate shifted, but she didn’t have the heart to let him out just yet; she needed answers first.

The door opened before she could knock.

Heather stood there, her hair a tangled mess, her face pale and streaked with tears. “Oh, thank God,” she whispered, pulling Lydia into a fierce hug before she could even step inside. “I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know who else to call.”

Lydia stepped back, gripping Heather’s shoulders. “What’s happened? Where’s Sasha?”

“They’re gone,” Heather said hoarsely. “Eamon, Megan, the boy… and Sasha. All of them. They just—vanished. I’ve called every number I have for them. Nothing. No one’s seen them.”

Lydia’s stomach dropped.

Heather shook her head, her eyes darting to the shadowy windows as though she feared being overheard. “I heard Cian’s men were watching our house,” she whispered. “That’s why I came here. I think they’ve been waiting for us to slip up. If I go to the Garda, it’ll only drive them deeper into hiding—or worse.”

Heather’s brother appeared in the doorway behind her, looking grim. “I told her we should call the Garda,” he said quietly. “But she’s terrified it’ll make things worse.”

Steve stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “I’ve already reached out to the police in the next county over from Blackwater. They’re liaising with me tomorrow. One of the people I contacted is highly respected and trusted by the top brass back in Essex. We’re going to devise a plan to get inside the castle and figure out what’s going on.”

Heather blinked at him. “The castle?”

Steve nodded. “If Cian is behind this, that’s where the trail will lead. We’ll move after dark tomorrow—quietly, and with enough backup that he won’t see us coming. But we can’t risk tipping our hand too early.”

Heather hugged herself, visibly shaken. “And what are we supposed to do until then?”

“You and Lydia will wait here with your brother,” Steve said firmly. “I’ll signal when it’s safe. Until then, no calls, no unnecessary movement. We can’t give Cian’s men a reason to sniff around here.”

Heather nodded slowly, though the thought of waiting clearly unsettled her.

Lydia put an arm around Heather, offering what comfort she could. But as she met Steve’s gaze across the room, she could see the same thing in his eyes that was twisting in her own gut.

Tomorrow night felt a lifetime away.