"Trust me, I do. Some days, I even do it twice." Vas booped the tip of River's nose, chuckling when his mate chased that fingertip with his teeth.
Liam rushed back toward us, making a beeline for a fat hedge separating us from the house. We watched curiously as he crawled beneath it, going so deep that soon the only thing visible were the soles of his shoes. Before I could ask what he was doing, he was squirming right back out with a camera in hand. He passed it to Vasily, puffing his cheeks out as if he’d just taken the first full breath after running a marathon. We waited while he leaned his head back and took a few more deep breaths before he looked back and began to explain.
"You guys can search the place, but Patrick saw the bitches leave right after his last check-in. He took a chance and crawled to the hedges to get a picture of their license plates when he couldn't get the right angle from the tree he was perched in. They had those illegal plates that you have to be looking straight at in order to read. Someone must have heard him moving because he felt a hand clamp around his ankle and jerk him backward. He dropped the camera, figuring if something happened to him at least someone would be able to track his scent and find it."
Vasily's nostrils flared, a growl rumbling in his throat. "What happened then? Did he see who did it?"
"No, whoever it was punched him in the side of the head before he had a chance to look. He swears he got some good pictures though, including the women you've been searching for, he says. There are four of them, all young-looking redheads with long hair. There's a fifth woman who left with them, but he couldn't see her hair color. She was wearing one of those sun hats with a big floppy brim."
Vasily pinched his lips together, frowning as he considered this new information. I took the opportunity to join the conversation. "Was it just the women, or did they have any bodyguards?"
Liam gave a quick nod. "Patrick described them, well… kinda like our little entourage today. He saw all of them as soon as the garage doors went up. There were three black SUVs—Cadillacs, he thinks—and two guards for every woman. As they walked out of the house, each woman had a man on either side of her. There were a few more who followed, that’s why he thinks the house is empty."
"Okay, then. Let's go check out this house." Vasily motioned for the guys to go ahead, then handed the camera back to Liam. "Call your father and have someone come get you two so you and Patrick aren't stuck waiting for us. Your brother probably should get looked at, anyway. You have my email. I'm trusting you with this camera since it's your family's property anyway. Shoot whatever photos your brother got to the email address I gave you, if you'd be so kind."
Artem cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt, but is that really the best plan? I promise I'm not being a dick or anything, but I probably don't have to tell you that my father is going to lose his shit if I don't at least try and take custody of that flash drive."
Vasily lifted a brow. "Nope. Not happening. Your father can sit and spin, for all I care. The O'Malley family are the ones who broke this case wide open. And from what Liam says, they have better technological skills than either of our families."
Artem surprised us all by winking. "Fair enough. Now I can honestly tell my father that I tried. As for them having more technological skills? We all might take note of the fact that the Irish are the ones whose kids go on to college. I don't know about you Ruskies, but my family doesn't put a lot of stock into higher education."
Liam started laughing as he lifted his phone. "I'll be sure and pass that on to my father. He loves it when we are able to break the stereotypes people have against us." He turned and walked a few yards away to make his call while two ridiculously attractive—and completely identical—men walked out of the trees, naked as the day they were born.
A small redhead that could only be Patrick walked between them. Although he barely reached their shoulders, the tiny Irishman strutted like an alpha. He walked over to Liam while the other two veered in our direction.
River glanced over his shoulder as they approached, a wide grin spreading over his face. "Hey, vatos. Get those fine asses over here so I can introduce you to my mate. Try not to feel inferior by his size. And before you ask… yes, every part of his body is definitely proportional."
I watched with interest as they laughed, completely unfazed by River's teasing. As soon as they stepped into the light, I noticed that one had a mole on the side of his neck. Good, at least now we could tell them apart if necessary.
Mole dude held a hand out to Vasily. "Mucho gusto, Vasily. It's nice to finally put a face to the larger-than-life reputation your mate has shared. I'm Dante Hernandez and this is my brother Ignacio, better known as Nacho."
We chatted for a few minutes then headed toward the house, leaving Boris and Misha to watch out for the O'Malley brothers in case there was trouble. The house itself was a waste of time.
Any scents were pretty much obliterated by the bunchberries. Google Earth hadn't done it justice. Whoever had planted that shit wanted the fragrance known. Either that, or they liked the berries. I couldn't think of any other reason to plant so much of one type of plant.
A quick tour of the house didn't reveal much more. The three ground-floor bedrooms were set up like dormitories with bunk beds. We found five bedrooms upstairs, all decorated in Pepto-Bismol pink. River wrinkled his nose after looking in the fifth bedroom. "I thought this was Deerfield, not Stepford. There is zero sense of personality here—or too much of an overwhelming one—did you guys notice that?"
I nodded. "Right? I was just trying to figure out if it was some creepy cult or if one person thinks too much of their decorating skills and had to put their stamp on everything."
"No shit." Vasily shook his head, leading us back toward the stairs. "I hate to see what kind of Dolores Umbridge bitch designed all these pink bedrooms. Let's take another walk through the downstairs, maybe we'll get lucky. Doubtful, but we can hope. If nothing else, at least we'll have the pictures Patrick got for us. So this wasn't a complete bust, I guess."
Joey poked his head through the kitchen doorway. "I can tell you one thing, they eat their weight in pancakes or waffles. Either that, or someone spilled a jar of syrup. The kitchen reeks of it. Pantry too."
The rest of the downstairs was a complete bust—except for the kitchen, the only scent in the place was the pervasive fragrance of bunchberries—helped along by small vases filled with the blooms that were scattered around every room. I smacked Vasily's arm to get his attention. "I wonder… do you think they use these flowers to cover every other fragrance, or is it more personal? Either way, there has to be a strong reason behind their obsession with bunchberries."
Vasily looked around the room with a thoughtful frown, then slowly nodded. "There's a lot to be said for scent memory. It's possible they planted it because it reminds them of home. If it was just about killing everyone's nose, there are much stronger scents they could've chosen. Nice catch, Ivan. I don't know how it helps, but as Pops would say—it takes a lot of pieces to form a complete puzzle."
River came in from the kitchen and motioned for us. "The house might be a wash, but we think we have something in the garage."