Chapter 21- The Lavender Heir

The plan

Late afternoon sunlight slanted across the fields when the unmarked cars rolled up the gravel drive to Heather’s brother’s farmhouse. Lydia stood at the window with Moschops perched anxiously at her feet, watching as men and women in plain clothes stepped out, their faces set with quiet determination.

Steve opened the door before they could knock. “You made good time,” he said, shaking hands with the lead officer, a tall man with silvering hair and a reputation that carried weight even across county lines.

“We came as soon as we could,” the officer said. “What you told us on the phone… it’s serious.” He lowered his voice. “We’ll need to be smart about this.”

Heather hovered just behind Steve, pale but steady. “We just want them back,” she said softly. “All of them. Please.”

The officer gave her a small nod before gesturing to his team. “We’ll go over the plan now.”


—

They gathered around the kitchen table, a spread of maps and satellite images laid out in front of them. Steve ran through the layout of Blackwater Castle as best as he could remember, the officers filling in the gaps with intelligence they’d been able to gather.

“We’ll approach under cover of dark,” the lead officer said. “Two teams. One through the main gates as a distraction, the other through the old service tunnels on the north side. If we’re right about how he’s operating, Cian won’t expect a split entry.”

Heather clasped her hands together tightly. “And if something goes wrong?”

“If you don’t hear anything from us by eleven p.m.,” the officer said firmly, “you call for reinforcements. Don’t wait a minute longer. Understood?”

Heather nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Lydia reached across the table and touched Steve’s hand. He gave her a small squeeze before rising with the officers, checking his gear.

“Please find my Eamon,” Heather whispered, her voice cracking. “Please.”

Steve’s expression softened. “We’ll bring him home,” he promised, though the weight in his voice betrayed the fear they all shared.

Heather turned to Lydia then, and Lydia stepped forward, embracing her tightly. “We’ll find them,” she murmured, more to convince herself than anyone else.

As Steve and the officers filed out into the gathering dusk, Lydia held onto Heather’s hand, the farmhouse suddenly feeling much too big and much too quiet.

Eleven p.m. felt like a lifetime away.