Page 27 of Connor's Claim
“And you’ve had a long day already. Time to leave.”
“I can’t just go. There’s so much to do.”
A cable she was trying to wind up snagged and knotted, and Everly tugged at it, frustration showing in her aggression at the piece of wire. I stilled her hands with mine and took over, untangling the mess and finishing the job of packing up what must’ve been the conference’s audio system.
When I raised my gaze to Everly, hers was down. She appeared broken. Not just tired but upset. Mick had said something was wrong, and now I could see it for myself.
“Did something happen?”
I was only asking in case she’d been scared by something Mick had missed. I didn’t care.
To my surprise, Everly took a shuddering breath and turned away, stomping across the hall to stack some more chairs. I took over. She wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Something was definitely wrong.
A man in overalls passed us, wheeling two of the big tables, and I grabbed his attention. “Are ye in charge of shutting this place down?”
He stopped and darted his glance between me and Everly. “Can be.”
I gestured at Everly. “Ms Makepeace needs to leave. Can she trust ye to finish up?”
At his ready agreement, Everly flew her gaze to mine. I gestured at the man.
“Give our friend here a list of all that needs to be done. I know ye have one in your head.”
She sighed but rattled off a checklist, ending with, “The audio equipment needs to be checked back in with IT.”
“Got it.” He closed and locked the box Everly had been packing and carried it from the room.
She watched him go. No, correction, she watched the box go. Then her attention returned to me. “I still have so much to do. The minutes to type up and send out. Emails to chase people for actions they agreed.”
“All of which can be done from home. We’re going.”
I gestured to Mick who’d kept his position in the hall, good man, then led Everly out by the elbow. She came with me, letting me guide her, and only paused to grab her bag. Outside, she blinked at where I’d parked but climbed in without a word.
I pulled into Deadwater’s city centre traffic with Mick in his car close behind.
Silence pressed in around us. I was the first to break it.
“What happened today?”
Everly didn’t answer, lost to her thoughts. She stayed like that all the way back to the warehouse, distant and resigned. In my apartment, she set herself up with her laptop at my kitchen counter, politely thanked me for the ride, then put in headphones and got back to work.
My attempts at talking to her fell on deaf ears, and frustration built in me, so much that I left the apartment to find Mick downstairs.
On the way, I stopped at Arran’s office. He raised his head at my knock, and I answered his silent enquiry.
“I’ve been dreaming up ideas to make Convict as appealing to the Four Milers as possible. It involves ye, and tonight’s the night.”
He listened to my plan. Approved it. Then gave up his thoughts.
“What if this goes wrong?”
I’d considered the same. Convict had readily taken grunt work for the gang, but we were asking him to walk straight into the lion’s den and seek out knowledge.
“Ye mean what if they unmask him?” I said. “We’ve kept him locked up for weeks. Are ye suddenly saying ye care?”
Arran pressed his lips together, whatever emotion he felt for our former crew member actively being suppressed. I knew because I was doing the same.