“William?”Rick narrowed his eyes. “But he’s a good man.”
“Aye,”I said, nodding. “I thought so, too. Butsomethin’ ishappenin’ here, and Icannaebe sure who’s involved. Frasier told her,” I gestured toward Rosalynn, “thatshecouldnaesee the body.”
Ricknarrowed his eyes, as he looked from Rosalynn to me. “Why would he do that?”
Ishrugged, sighing. “That's what I'vegottafigureout, but first, I need ye to do this for me.” Then, I nudged my head in thewoman’s direction and added, “And for Rosalynn. She needs to know what happenedto her sister.”
“Callme Rosie,” she said quietly, and I turned my eyes on her, surprised to hear hervoice after such a long period of silence. She offered a weak smile. “Please.Everybody else does.”
“Aye,”I replied with a nod, before looking back to Rick and waiting for his answer.
Growingup, Rick Byrne had always planned on one day becoming a pathologist, while Ihad all intentions of being an investigator. We were going to work together onthe same team, but life has a way of wedging itself between the best laidplans. While Rick was at university, his father unexpectedly passed away andleft the family's funeral home to him. He dropped out to move back into hisfamily’s home, while I moved to Edinburgh and found a job and a wife.
Funnyhow I also made my return to Fort Crow years later, once my marriage failed andmy own father's health began to diminish.
Rickhad been conflictedall ofthose years ago, but it wasthe pressure his mother put on him that ultimately made up his mind. He'd beendisappointed, walking away from his studies and his dream of doing right by hiscountry and society. But now, after years of being in the funeral business, hefound he enjoyed the service he did for others even more than what he could'vedone as a pathologist. And right now, I could see that same, old conflict inhis eyes.
Ihated to pressure him and make him do something I knew could jeopardize thebusiness his family had worked hard to build from the ground up. But he knew Iwouldn't even be asking, had it not been important, and I was relieved when hesighed and nodded.
“Ididn't finish my studies, remember,” he muttered, reminding me of how he leftuniversity before having the chance to graduate. “Itwillnaebe thorough.”
“That'sfine. It'smorethan fine,” I assured him. “It just needs to be enough.”
***
In avacant viewing room, Rosie sat precariously on the edge of an antique sofa withevery limb stiff and frozen, waiting with nervous anxiety for Rick to finishthe examination of the body. But he'd barely started. There was at least twohours or so before he'd be finished. So, I poured two glasses of scotch fromRick's office, carried both into the room, and handed one to her.
Sheeyed the glass questioningly. “It's scotch,” I clarified, but she stillwouldn’t take it.
“I'mjust not so sure I should be accepting a drink from a man I just met,” shereplied, looking up at me with a coalesced blend of confidence and nerves.
“Suityerself,” I said, before drinking hers in two, swiftgulps. She then took the other glass from my hand and knocked it back in one,smooth motion. If we had met under different circumstances, I would have beenimpressed, but knowing the stress and sadness she was coping with, I feltnothing but sympathy.
“Mymother was killed in an accident nine years ago,” I told her, sitting down onthe couch. “The drunken arsehole was charged with culpable homicide and onlygot two years in prison.”
“I’msorry,” she muttered, gripping the glass in both hands. “That’s horrible.”
“Aye,it was. And I understood that,accordin’ to the law,he had gotten what he deserved,” I continued, remembering that old, worn angerand need for vengeance. “But as her son, I felt that no amount of time would’vebeen long enough. Hecouldaebeen sentenced to athousand lifetimes in purgatory, and I still would’ve felt the punishment wastoo …gentle.”
Iturned to her, met her gaze, and said, “I knowthat,whatever happens here, the punishment will never be enough. It won’t bringyersister back. But I amgonnado whatever I have to, to make sure justice is served.”
Hereyes clouded with doubt, as she replied, “Yousaythat, but look at the situation we’re in right now. What makes you so surethere would be any justice, when they won’t even call it what it is?”
“Becauseif I’m good foranythin’, it’s my word,” I said, myvoice firm and unwavering. “I can promise ye that, Rosie. Whoever did this willserve their time, or they will pay with their life. Even if it meansriskin’ mine.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ROSIE
“… Orthey will pay with their life, even if it meansriskin’mine.”
Ihadn’t expected that, and the words hit me hard, sliding beneath my skin andtouching my soul. Where this man lacked in tidiness, he was compensated withsincerity, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to hug him. But Imaintained my composure and held my head high, as I nodded.
“Youdon’t know how much that means to me,” I replied, my voice rough and scratchingagainst my throat.
“Well,it meansnothin’ if I don’t catch the bastard, so yeneed to help me,” he said, leaning forward and clasping his hands between theknees of his rumpled pants. “I have some questions to ask ye if that’s allright. We can wait, but—”
“No,”I shook my head, “whatever you need to know, I’m ready.”
