The Silent Ones [✔️] (#2 in the Chilvati Series)

THIRTY-EIGHT

Skipped chapter thirty-six and thirty-seven? They were marked PRIVATE. You must follow me to read private chapters. Please refer to Fine Facts at the front of this book for further details.

Paul arrived at the estate just after six P.M. Adam was on duty at the gate. With Bruce gone, they were shorthanded, but security was never disregarded.

"Hey, man," Adam said, as they fist bumped through the open window. He nodded his head toward the house. "Be warned, the boss is fit to be tied."

"What's up?"

"Don't know for certain—something to do with yer sister not taking his calls. Steve is up there making sure he doesn't trash the house." Adam gave Paul's shoulder a robust pat before backing up and giving him room. "Be prepared to duck," he yelled when Paul pulled away.

As Paul walked up to the front entrance and knocked, he was chuckling to himself, thinking Adam was being a little overly dramatic—until the door was ripped open so hard, he expected to see the knob dangling from the greeter's hand.

Mark's eyes narrowed. Then he jabbed a finger into Paul's chest as he hissed, "Your sister is going to be the death of me." Before Paul had a chance to reply, Mark wheeled away and pounded down the hallway like a bull on a rampage.

Paul hurried to catch up. "What happened?"

Coming to an abrupt halt, Mark yanked a phone from his pocket and hammered a key.

How long can it take that kind of abuse? Paul wondered.

Five seconds later, the thing was shoved back into the same pocket with a curse while Mark scanned his surroundings in what seemed like a desperate search for anything that moved.

A red cape fluttered in Paul's imagination.

Then he was off again, his sights now set on the living room. Paul followed. Steve was sitting on the sofa, doing something with his computer. Thinking he might get more information from the calmer of the two, Paul walked up to him, hearing a crunch on the hardwood under his shoe. He lifted his foot to find broken pieces of a drinking glass, crystal by the looks of it. He glanced at Steve who gave him a do-not-ask subtle shake of his head.

"Have you found the Kellys' number yet?" Mark bellowed at Steve, the cell phone back in his hand.

Steve shrugged. "I can only do so much with an unlisted number."

Mark rolled his eyes and then shot them in Paul's direction. "Do you know it?"

"No."

"Damn it!"

"Even if I knew it, you can't make her talk to you," Paul snapped.

Mark stared at him long and hard. Paul could sense Steve doing the back-and-forth thing between the two of them as the tense silence stretched. Expecting an angry comeback, it was somewhat of a surprise when Mark threw his phone on the table and slumped down into the chair next to him. "You're right," he muttered, his hand pushing through his hair.

"Will somebody please tell me what's going on?" Paul repeated.

"Gus found out where your sister is," Steve said.

Anxiety heated Paul's face. "And?"

Mark put his hand up. "She's okay . . . apparently." He frowned and spat, "If she would just bloody well—" He moved his hand to his forehead, drawing it down his face and around to the back of his neck. It was a calmer voice that elaborated with, "Gus escaped his handler and headed up there, but somebody intercepted him and called Augustus. He's been picked up and brought back, put under lock and key."