Ilaughed incredulously. “Seriously?”
“Allright,” he relented, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. “The bigcities—Glasgow, Edinburgh, hell, even Inverness—I can see the appeal. There'sshite to do, and shite to look at, butthis?” He thrust a hand towardthe windshield.
Isighed and settled into the seat. “You're going to make me get into this now,huh?”
“I'mgenuinely curious.”
Iturned to him then, which was a mistake. Because the setting sun painted hisface in shadow and light, emphasizing the structure of his triangular nose andthe sharp, crisp cut of his jawline. My heart stuttered at the loosened tie aroundhis neck, and my tongue dried, as my eyes drifted down his wrinkled shirtsleeves, to the rolled cuffs at his elbows. No one man deserved to look thatgood, not ever, and I was suddenly far too aware of how alone we were.
“Um,”I said, hoarse and wishing for water, “well, have you ever heard ofOutlander?”
Hisgroan didn't surprise me. “Oh, Christ. You're one ofthem.”
“What?AnOutlanderfan?” I asked, mockingdefensiveness.
“Mm-hmm.”
Inodded with a healthy dose of pride. “I've been a fan for years, and yeah, theshow is great, but the books aresomuch better. I read the first onewhen I was a teenager, and loved it then, but I reread it when I was goingthrough my divorce. And … I don't know. It just … gave me somewhere to go, Iguess. Like, when everything else was going to hell around me, I escaped toScotland with Jamie and Claire, and it made everything better again.”
Aswe turned onto Devonshire, I waited for Alec's gruff reply. A dash of mockeryor perhaps a snide remark about falling in love with a foolish fantasy. But hesaid nothing, as he pulled up to the uneven stones lined up at the curb andpulled the key from the ignition. I looked to him with uncertain expectation,and when he caught my eye, he immediately looked away.
“What?”he asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.
“That'sit? You have nothing to say?”
Hehesitated, keeping his crumpled-brow-stare on the steering wheel, beforesaying, “Three years ago, my wife had been pregnant. I had never wantedchildren with her, but when I knew I’d be a father, I was happy, and I thoughtwe could make things work between us. But then, while I was at work one night,she lost thebairn.”
Iclamped my teeth shut and swallowed, then replied, “I'm sorry.”
“Ofcourse, it affected her differently than it did me. She was more open toexpressin' her emotions, and she found groups of women totalk to.Y'know, other women who had experiencedmiscarriage. It helped her a lot, and that was great for her, but Ididnaetalk. There justwasnaeanythin' to say.Talkin'didnaechange things, and itdidnaebring thebairnback. So, I buried myself in mywork,” he said, wrapping his hands around the wheel and keeping his eyes on itsworn, black vinyl. “It was probably the worst thing Icouldaedone butfocusin' all my attention entirely on thehorrible things that happened in the lives of other people made my own lifefeel not so terrible.”
Hecleared his throat, then without another word, left the car. Taken aback, I lethis confession settle against my heart as I climbed out after him. Together, wewalked down the sidewalk toward The Whispering Crow's entrance, when hesuddenly stopped and took my arm, turning me toward his stony glare.
“AllI'msayin' is, I understand the need for an escape,”he said needlessly. Then, added, “And, as horrible as the circumstances are,I'm glad thatyersbrought ye here. For whatever it'sworth.”
***
I heldmy breath as Alec slid the key into the lock, and as he turned the knob, Isqueezed my eyes shut,in an attempt tobrace myselffor what we might find behind the door. What I expected to find, I couldn'tsay. Perhaps the killer was now hiding beneath the bed, just waiting for oureventual arrival. Or maybe the ghost of my sister would be found, perched atthe end of the bed, one thigh crossed over the other, with her footless ankle,bouncing and swaying through the air in a carefree fashion.
WhenAlec pushed the door open, I gasped, afraid to open my eyes. But as he steppedinside, I heard him stop and ask, “Rosie, are ye all right?”
Slowlypeeling my eyelids open, I peered into the room, to find it barren of bothGracie's grinning ghost and her killer, and I nodded.
“Yeah,”I said, breathless, before stepping inside after him.
Ashe shut the door, I surveyed the room, searching for any change since the lasttime we'd been there. But it was like one of those hidden item games—what'sdifferent about these two pictures?I studied the floral bedspread for anynew crease, the drab carpet for any fresh imprint, the lampshades for any tiltor misalignment, but the longer I looked, the more my frustration built.
“Idon't know what the hell I'm even looking for,” I admitted, dropping my arms tomy sides with defeat. “Everything looks the same as it did last time.”
“Ididnaeexpectanythin' tochange,” Alec told me, hurrying past me to the stack of Gracie's belongings.“We're notdealin' with an idiot. He’ll know we'vebeen here.”
“Howdo you know it's evenahe?”
Hecrouched in front of her suitcases and looked over his shoulder. “Do ye reallythink a woman did this?”
Thecarpet was plush and gave beneath my heavy feet as I crossed the room, shakingmy head. “No, but I feel like, you can't completely rule it out either. Right?I mean, what if you're hunting for a man, when really, it was a woman?”
Heshook his head, looking off beyond me. “I'm all for gender equality, Rosie, butitdoesnaeadd up. Grace was put there. She wascarried through the woods and then laid on that stone. A womanworkin' alonewouldaehaddifficultydoin' that. The bodywouldaebeen dragged, unless we'redealin' with someone verrastrong, but …” He shook his head again, shaking away the apparently absurdnotion that a womanwas capable of committingthecrime. “No. We'relookin' for a man.”
