“Mom,”he shouted over her. “I'm fine. Okay?”
“Iknow you say that, but—”
“Stop!Just stop! Okay?God…”
“ButTJ, you—”
“Lass,”I cut in, reaching out to snag her wrist in my hand. She turned to me, eyeswide and startled, as I said, “Hesays he's fine.Don’t keeppressin' him. Thereisnaea person on this planet whowouldnaebreak under thatkindapressure.”
Withouta word, she righted herself in the seat and stared out the window at thepassing trees and fields of the Scottish Highlands. The sky was streaked withblue and white, like a watercolor canvas above a sea of green. I couldn'tremember the last time I'd been granted a few moments to just look out andappreciate the majesty of nature, and without warning, my heart seized with theblunt force of resentment. Not toward her, her son, or even her sister, butlife itself. This was the work I had chosen, and I welcomed the busyness of it,but I hadn't anticipated that every spare moment would be eaten by divorce, myailing father, or even the burden of sleep. And suddenly, my life seemed likesuch a waste of time and space, even despite the peace I'd brought to so manyfamilies. What good was it all when I couldn't harness my own?
“Idon't know how to stop,” Rosie finally whispered.
Iglanced into the backseat, finding TJ with his earbuds in place, before asking,“What do ye mean, lass?”
“Just… the way that I am with him,” she said, her voice heavy with exhaustion anddefeat. “I don't know how to stop nagging him or getting on his case. I know itdrives him crazy, I know he can't stand when I do it, but I can't juststop.”
“Yerhis mother. It'syerjob.”
Shechuckled bitterly. “Yeah, and what a great job I'm doing. He shouldn’t even behere,with the shit we’re doing right now.” Then, sheglanced in my direction and said, “I guess we're both assholes, huh.”
Ibarked with a laugh at that. “Idinnaeken if I'dcall ye an arsehole, lass. Ye’redoin’ what ye thinkis right, and if the time comes where he should leave, I’m sure ye’ll make theright choice.”
“Yeah,”she replied quietly. “And I don't know that I'd call you one either.”
Myheart rattled gently within my chest, as I clenched my jaw and tightened mygrip on the wheel. I reminded that bloody, beating organ that there was noreason to awaken from its hibernation and get excited, because there was littlechance of hope for me. But still, there it was, fluttering about like aschoolboy who'd just gotten noticed by a bonnie lassie.
Knockit off, yebleedin' bastard. We have work to do, andthen, she's gone. Ye’ll never see her again, and whatgood’llthat do ye? Just leave it alone.
Andjust like that, he skulked away, to pout in his cage, and I hoped he wouldn'tlet his disappointment seep into our shared veins.
***
I knewShavon's. I'd been there a time or two for lunch with the lads from work. Itwas a nice place, with good food and equally good staff. But those were thethoughts of a man who wasn’t aware of the possible killer within its walls.Now, I stared at the welcoming building as if it were the doorway to Hellitself.
AsRosie and TJ climbed out of the car, she asked, “Do you have a gun?”
“No,”I replied, never taking my eyes from the restaurant.
“What?What ifhedoes? What if he—”
“IfI were to carry a gun, lass, I'd be in big trouble with the law.”
“Iunderstandthat,” she said, coming to stand beside me,“but that still doesn't answer the question of, what if he has one? What areyou going to do if he pulls a gun on all of us, and you only have, what? Your sharpwit and a jacket in desperate need of ironing?”
Ibriefly pulled my gaze from the stone building and glared at her. “Don’tunderestimate what I'm capable of.”
“Well,forgive me for not thinking that what you're capable of could stand up againsta man with afreakin' gun.”
“Well,let's just see if he evenhasa gun,” I countered, narrowing myeyesand slamming the car door shut. “Are ye both ready?”
TJnodded confidently, as Rosie said, “Yeah, as long as he's unarmed.”
Ismirked at her snarky reply and shook my head, before leading the way towardthe door. A coalescence of nerves and adrenaline came together in my gut tosour my morning coffee, as I pulled it open and entered the welcomingestablishment. The stone floors emanated the warmth from a crackling fireplace,and an incredibly bonny lass approached, wearing asmileand wielding a menu.
“CanI bring ye to a table?” she asked, addressing each of us with batted lashes andappreciation.
“No,we're not here to eat,” I told her, producing my badge. Her eyes blinkedrapidly at the sight, before glancing at Rosie and TJ, most likely wonderingwhat an inspector was doing with two civilians, and I asked, “Is JamesEddington here at the moment?”
