Iwalked down the stairs and to the kitchen, not surprised to find Alec at thecounter. The man never seemed to sleep. His button-down shirt was untucked fromhis pants, his shoes had been kicked off underneath his stool, and I noticed ahole in the heel of one sock. The man was not only a wreck,healso needed someone to care for him, and while I would have normally found thattype of helplessness unappealing, something about him called to me.
Ihated how much I liked it.
“Doye not sleep, lass?” he asked gruffly, not bothering to look at me as he groundthe heel of one hand into his forehead.
“Apparentlynot,” I muttered, shuffling in to sit beside him. “Every time I fall asleep, Ihave nightmares.”
“Thistype of work will do that to ye.”
“I’mnot cut out for it,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m meant to sit behind a deskduring the day, and at night, come home and drink a bottle of wine before goingto town on every bag of chocolate in my kitchen.”
“Whata wild one, ye are,” he muttered with a chuckle.
“Mm-hmm,”I sighed with a nod and a reminiscent smile. “On the weekends, I like concerts,dancing, and getting tattoos. That’s when I really come to life.”
Heturned to me then, raising a brow. “Tattoos,y’say?”
Inodded, smirking. “Bet you wouldn’t have guessed a boring, old, single mom fromConnecticut would have a bunch of tattoos, huh?”
“No,itisnaethat,” he replied, his gaze dropping to mylips for just a fraction of a second. “I’m justtryin’to imagine where they are and what they might be of, is all.” Then, bringinghis eyes back to mine, he added, “And I would never call ye old … orborin’.”
Thesmirk was wiped clean from my face as the gruff insinuation in his voicewrapped around my belly, warming it up like a shot of scotch on a cold winter’snight. There was a smoldering heat in his gaze that I hadn’t noticed before,and while nearly every part of me awakened and desperately wanted to act onprimal instinct, there was still a piece of my conscience that said there waswork to be done.
“Well,”I said quickly, turning away, “you can bet I’ll be going back to my old, boringways once this case is solved.”
“That’dbe a shame.”
Graciecame back to mind then, as I pictured her carefully calculated way of life. Ithought of her routine and the rituals she had held to ensure her utmostsafety. It was almost as though she’d always suspected something wouldinevitably happen, and she had done whatever she could to guarantee that itdidn’t. But we don’t get to escape our own fate when it’s already made up itsmind that it wants us.
“Iused to say that to Grace,” I said. “I would tell her it was such a shame thatshe never let herself do anything without thinking it through.”
“There’snothin’ wrong withbein’careful.”
Ishook my head, looking forward at the tiled backsplash behind the range. “No.But she wasn’t just careful. She really was boring,” and I laughed at that, asthe guilt of speaking ill of my dead sister gripped my heart. “She went throughthis whole vetting process when she first met her ex-fiancé. It was crazy. Imean, the guy ended up being a total dick, but she had acted like he could be aserial killer or something.”
“Hecheated on her, ye said?”
“Yeah.She had been suspicious for a while, too. And that was another thing with her,she was always so intuitive and observant, it was hard to sneak anything pasther. When she found out Matt was screwing around behind her back, she washeartbroken, but it was like she wasn’t even surprised.”
Idropped my gaze to the counter and imagined I could see her face in the marbledstone. I tried to remember her voice, the inflections in her tone and thelittle nuances I was so sure I’d never forget. But it had already begun tohappen, and I hated it. I hated that someone I loved so much could so easily fadefrom my memory, and with every desperate attempt at recalling the way shelaughed, the tears formed in my eyes.
“Anyway,”I said, clearing my throat and shaking my head. “Do you have any idea of whatto do next?”
Alectapped the tip of his pen against the counter as he nodded. “Like I mentionedbefore, I have to go into the office tomorrow and do some work. I don’t want toraise suspicion. But I’mgonnatrycallin’ the owner of the inn, and after work, I think I’llgo back intoCoilleFeannagand take a closer look at the place where we found her.”
Turningto him abruptly, I said in a hurry, “I want to go.”
Heeyed me with skepticism. “Idinnaethink ye want todo that, lass.”
“ButI do,” I insisted. “Maybe it’s morbid curiosity but I just … I just need to seeit.”
Hiseyes held mine with firm resolve, like he was just moments away from scoldingme and telling me how I was wrong for feeling the way I felt. I steeled myself,ready to fight back, because who was he to tell me what I could and couldn’thandle? Especially after I’d already seen the photos of my sister’s body,laying gracefully over the rocks. But then, with a deep breath, Alec slowlynodded, and the tension in my shoulders eased.
“Allright,” he relented. “But wewillnaebe takin’yerson.”
Iagreed with a nod. It was bad enough that this trip had evolved in the way ithad, but I would never be able to live with myself, if I’d exposed him towhatever scene we might find in the woods.
“Yeshould try to sleep,” Alec said, returning his attention back to his work, asif staring at the police report and pictures of my sister would help him fitthe pieces together.
