Everett was talking so fast, Nick raised a hand to slow him down. “It’s okay that you listened to her sing.”
“But that’s just it. There wasn’t any singing. This doesn’t belong to her,” he said as he handed the flash drive to Nick. “But it’s all about her, or it’s all about Grace Isabel MacKenna. There are three full pages of instructions and information,” he continued. “And there’s a timetable. It has a lot of personal information on her and her schedule, beginning with the day and time of her graduation, her stay in Boston, and her flight information to Glasgow, including a list of hotels where she’ll be staying in Scotland. You’ll notice a number in the left-hand corner of the first page. One hundred thousand. I think that’s what they’ll pay.”
Nick inserted the flash drive into the laptop.
Everett scrolled down to the last page and pointed to the screen. “The last line is underlined.
They want it done as soon as possible. There’s a bonus if it’s done before her birthday, June twenty-second.”
“What the hell . . .”
“Sir, I think it’s a kill order.”
TWENTY-ONE
MICHAEL WAS IN A PANIC AND TRYING NOT TO LET IT SHOW. HE HAD TO MAKE SURE ISABEL
was safe.
He had a plan. He was going to call Isabel, tell her to stay in her suite with the door locked, and not let anyone in until he got there. Once he had her, he wasn’t going to let her go until the bastards out there who wanted to hurt her were apprehended or killed. At the moment, he was voting for the second solution.
It took only one phone call to find out she had checked out of the hotel in the middle of the night.
Three o’clock in the morning, to be exact. One of the Hamilton limos had driven her to the airport.
Where in God’s name had she gone? Isabel wasn’t scheduled to leave for Glasgow until Monday.
She had obviously changed her plans. She hadn’t taken an early-morning flight to Glasgow. He’d checked. Had she gone home to Silver Springs and put the trip to Scotland on hold?
Dylan had the answer. He knew that Isabel wouldn’t go anywhere without letting her sister know.
He called Kate and asked her if she had checked her messages today.
“Not yet,” she told him. “Why? We were in church, and now we’re in a restaurant with your parents and some of their friends. I’ll check them when I get back.”
“I need you to check now and tell me if Isabel sent you a text.”
Kate excused herself from the table and walked out into the restaurant’s foyer. “Is something wrong?”
Dylan planned to tell her everything when she got back to Nathan’s Bay, but not now. “Michael wants to know.” He didn’t mention why.
While he waited, Kate scrolled down through her messages. There was a text from Isabel that she had sent at five twenty that morning. Kate couldn’t believe what she was reading, and she didn’t take her sister’s news at all well.
“Oh my God, she doesn’t even have a hotel room booked. What could she be thinking?” she asked her husband. “Why couldn’t she wait until Monday and fly into Glasgow? I had her schedule all set and her hotel rooms reserved.”
A hotel room was the least of her worries, Dylan thought, but didn’t say. “Send me the text. We’ll talk about Isabel later.”
He disconnected the call before she could ask any more questions. Kate sent him the text, and he read it out loud.
“Okay, that’s good,” Michael said. “Whoever wants her out of the way thinks she’s still here on Nathan’s Bay. Right? According to the instructions in that order, they think she’s leaving for Glasgow Monday.”
“Who the hell puts a plan like that on a flash drive?” Dylan wondered, shaking his head.
“Maybe someone who thinks others are less likely to see it,” Nick speculated.
“I hope to God she hasn’t called the attorney or anyone else. If that son of a bitch Reid calls her and she tells him where she is . . .” Michael stopped, took a deep breath, trying to get his anger under control, then said, “I’m going to go get her.”
“I thought you might,” Noah said. He pulled the laptop over in front of him and quickly looked up flights to Edinburgh. “There’s one leaving this evening, but it’s booked.”
“Can you get him on?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, I can. I’ll call Kemper.” He picked up his cell phone and asked Michael, “Do you have your passport with you?”