RealizingI was fighting another losing battle with him, I grabbed my purse and stompedmy way out the door, not forgetting to hang the Do Not Disturb tag. I figured,if nothing else, his attitude would only get in the way of the business Ineeded to take care of, and he was probably better off staying back, anyway.So, I headed outside to face Fort Crow, Scotland for the first time alone, muchlike my little sister had just weeks ago.
Itwas raining when I left the hotel. My lips spread in a small, sad smile,remembering the complaints Gracie had after she had been in the country for afew days.
“It’sso depressing how often it rains here,” she had said, groaning about her suddendisinterest in heading to Inverness and seeing the Culloden Battlefield.
“Oh,just go,” I had urged her. “When are you going to get another chance to see theFraser Clan stone?”
Shehad gone, despite her further complaints about not having the appropriate shoesto go trekking through a muddy field. I remembered the pictures she had sent meof the grave markers, the selfies she had taken in her soaked sweatshirt, andthen, the phone call that night of her telling me about the eerie serenity shehad experienced on the battlefield.
“Ithought I’d be excited to see the stone, but really, I just felt sad, youknow?” she had said. “It was peaceful, though, and … I don’t know. I’m just soglad I went, but God, Rosie, I wish you had been there. I wish you were herenow.”
Comingback from the past my memories offered, I allowed a moment of sadness to piercethrough my heart. The thought of not having her there ever again, to read andwatch theOutlanderseries with, hit harder than maybe it should have. Itwas such a trivial thing, in the grander scheme of things. But it had been suchan integral part of our sisterly relationship, and I doubted I’d ever be ableto swoon over Jamie Fraser again without mourning her memory.
Icalled a taxi to take me to the Fort Crow Police Station. After the cararrived, I spent the fifteen-minute trip watching the scenery goby, andwondered how many of these sights had also been seenby my sister. During those minutes, I was engulfed with the feeling of beingcloser to her than I was, and in a morbid sort of way, I couldn’t wait tocollect her remains. Just to be with her again.
***
TheFort Crow Police Station was a rundown structure in a remote area of the town.I knew that it was a small town and something of a hidden gem but given thegorgeous architecture throughout the rest of what I had seen, it was unexpectedto pull up to an old, dingy building.
Ipaid the driver, told him not to wait, and headed inside. Immediately, I wasmet by a short, round man wearing a badge.
“CanI help ye, miss?”
Itook a quick glance around the small, open room. There were a handful of desks,a few doors leading to rooms unknown, and a lone water cooler and coffee makerin a corner. I wondered just how many cops there were and how much crime adepartment this tiny really saw. I also wondered if they would even recognize amurder if it was knocking at their door.
“Miss?”
Lookingback to him, I found my voice and said, “Um, I’m here about my sister—”
“Ah,right. The poor American lass.” He noted my immediate look of startledsuspicion and smiled apologetically. “Yeraccent. Itook a guess.”
“Oh,”I replied, feeling unreasonably stupid.
“I’lljust take ye to Chief Inspector Frasier, if ye’d just follow me this way.”
So,I did. Following him through the room, I noted the various nameplates on thedesks. Abernathy, McDougal, Sharp, Rankin,Colven…There weren’t many, maybe twelve in all, until I read the name Brodie. Itstruck a chord, awakening the memory of a phone call from a couple days before.I stopped at the desk and pointed at the nameplate.
“Um,I spoke with Inspector Brodie earlier in the week, and he said to—”
“InspectorBrodie won’t be in the office until later,” the cop said with a sigh, alreadybored with me. “Ye could come back, or—”
“No,”I replied with a shake of my head. “It’s okay. I really just want to get mysister and go home.”
Asympathetic look in his eyes dared me to hug the man, as he told me heunderstood and continued to lead me to a door that read Chief InspectorFrasier.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ALEC
Rollingout of bed an hour after the alarm had gone off, I threw on a wrinkled shirt, crumpledtie, and a pair of trousers in desperate need of laundering. I raced from myroom and down the hall to the kitchen, hoping to Christ and every one of hisapostles that there was coffee in the pot, when I spotted the thermos on thecounter.
“Madeye a cup,” Rick muttered from the table, without looking up from his phone.
“Ah,lad, I'd kiss ye if Iwasnaerunnin'so fuckin' late,” I said hurriedly, grabbing the steaming steel canteen andquickly walking to the door.
“Havea good day, darlin',” he called.
“Yebetter have supperwaitin' fer me by the time I getback!” I shouted into the house, then chuckled to myself as I hurried down thesteps and to my car.
