Obsidian by Teagan Oliver

Author:Teagan Oliver [Teagan Oliver]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781410408877
Google: V2OhNwAACAAJ
Amazon: 1594145512
Barnesnoble: 1594145512
Goodreads: 2202158
Published: 2012-12-15T13:00:00+00:00

Jamie had done what he was asked of him. As promised, he’d made sure that Shelby was as okay as she could be under the circumstances.

It was easy for him to understand the emotions running through her. He understood the helplessness and the desperation. But more than his experiences with his job, he knew what the pain was like on a personal level.

He’d spent the weeks after David’s death trying to figure out how to deal with his own feelings of helplessness and loss. McAlvey had been right about one thing. He’d been out of control; unable or unwilling to deal with David's death, but losing David had been the last in a very long line of losses. And he hadn’t handled any of them very well.

Jamie vaulted off the bed and went to the closet, rummaging through his bag. The house was quiet enough now and he’d put it off long enough. He needed to know just what was in the package he'd found at the point.

Pulling his jackknife from his belt, he cut through the gauged plastic and covered wire to the heavy paper. He used the edge of the knife to slit the tape holding it in place and peeled back the paper and plastic.

Damn. Now he knew at least part of why he was in Chandler.

Pulling a bandana out of his pack, he reached into the package and pried the foam packing material away. He picked up one of the small, black objects. Draping the bandanna over his hand, he held it up. The sleek design glinted in the light from the single light bulb left dangling overhead.

Guns. He should have guessed. It was a logical choice. After all, they were small, neat, easy to conceal, and profitable to smuggle. They were also fairly easy to obtain. He looked into the compact package. There were four more of the guns tucked inside. It was a small amount, enough not to garner too much attention if anyone bothered to look. He tested the weight and held it up to the light again. Whoever had packed the guns had taken the precaution of making sure there was nothing incriminating on them. He turned it over, searching for the serial numbers. There weren’t any, not that he was surprised. Gun traffickers weren't about to leave anything behind that might lead investigators straight to them. And if the market for the guns was overseas then they weren’t going to risk bringing international attention to what they were doing.

He set the gun back in the box and picked up a folded sheet of white paper at the bottom of the package. There were six words were scribbled on the paper.

Filleann an feall ar an bhfeallaire.

He didn’t know what it meant, but with his limited knowledge of languages it looked like it might be Irish.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pack. He needed to know what the note said and if anyone could translate it would be Kearsage.

He punched in the number and waited for the connection.

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