Page 14 of Ghost Hunted

I can’t think anymore. Everything is foggy. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes, trying to calm myself. But the panic only grows, until I’m on my hands and knees, retching into the tiny bathtub.

I get it together just as my phone rings.

Damien. I don’t need that shit right now. I’m going to kill whoever installed wifi on this plane.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me you’re on your way to Ireland, fucker.”

“I am.”

“And you couldn’t have spoken about it to me first? Why the fuck does Everest know everything before me?”

“Because Everest has no intention of killing Piper and…”

“And I do? Stop that, Logan. You know me better than that.”

“I know you’ve been bringing up the idea of killing her for the past ten years at least once a week, yeah.”

“Again: it was a joke, Logan. Goddammit, can’t you fucking take a joke? What happened to you? Thought you were the fucking Devil clown.”

“Damien.” I wish I could reach through the phone and strangle him. “Piper’s my daughter. And Lia is… was… is… my girl…” Piper’s grammatical doubt hits hard. “It’s not a joke to me.”

“Right. I talk a lot, but actions are what matter, aren’t they? I’ve only ever helped you. You’re my brother.”

“My brother who would kill me without a second of hesitation over your girl.”

“And right back at you,” he snaps.

“Fine.” I sink to my knees beside the bathtub. “So what’s this phone call about? We’re about to land, and yeah, as you can probably guess, I have no fucking plan.”

“Well, I do.”

“Oh?” I wait, my heart beating faster.

“Okay, I lied. I don’t.”

Fuck! I pound my fist against the side of the bathtub, hard enough to form a bruise. “Who’s the clown now? I don’t have time for this, Damien.”

“Nevertheless,” he continues, “I do have information that might be of interest to you.”

“Okay…”

“You know Emilio Cabello?”

“Yeah,” I growl. “I do. And last time I heard, he was living out the rest of his pathetic life in Italy, in the middle of bumfucking nowhere...”

“Jesus, Logan. Watch it with the language. I’ve got Campbell on the line.”

“Why the fuck is that idiot on the line?”

“Alright, I’m disconnecting you, Campbell. It seems like my friend is kind of in a bad mood. Hold on.” There’s a pause as Campbell leaves the conversation, and then Damien tells me, “You’re not being very polite.”

“Yeah, well, this just isn’t a good time, Damien, okay? Since when do you even talk to Campbell, anyway? He’s some lowdown fuck who heads our science department. I don’t even know what we do down there, and…”

“Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a clue either. But Campbell’s been telling me some interesting shit about Emilio Cabello...”

“Damien, I don’t give a fuck about some has-been mobster rotting away in Italy. Even if he is Lia’s father. Who the fuck cares?”