I understood that. My mother could be a bit of a force of nature. Sometimes, you just had to go along with what she said, no matter what you thought.
“Have you seen him since he escaped the island?” My biggest fear this week had been that Elias would track her down, seeking revenge for her betrayal. I’d asked a constable to keep an eye on her, even after she’d given her statement. Because she hadn’t been directly involved with the kidnapping, we hadn’t charged her with anything.
Lena shook her head, pausing so the server could deposit our drinks and take our food order. “I haven’t. I keep thinking I see him on street corners or driving down the street, but it’s never actually him. I’ve been giving myself a nonstop heart attack for the past week.”
“If I were him, I’d have left the country by now,” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.
Lena nodded, but she didn’t seem to believe me entirely.
“So what’s next?” I continued, seeking to change the subject. As I asked it, I realized that it was a rather loaded question. Her life had been overturned completely. She hadn’t lost her job, but if Ainslee decided to share what had happened with the rest of the parents, she could very quickly find herself a teacher without a class. And I was suddenly afraid that I’d implied that ‘what’s next’ involved me, too, and I don’t want to put that pressure on her.
“My band is actually looking into booking a tour,” Lena said, and a ghost of her old cheer crossed her face. “Probably around England and Wales with a hop over to Ireland. I think it will be good for me. A new setting, away from everything that happened here.”
A stab of disappointment hit me. Tours last a month, probably more, and we had only just gotten started. I didn’t know if something so new could survive that much distance and time.
Lena saw it on my face despite my best attempts to hide it. Her brow crinkled and then fell, and I felt terribly guilty that I’d even thought about inserting myself in her plans.
“I think that sounds great,” I said, hoping to reassure her.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Who doesn’t want to go travel around the country for a couple of months? Especially doing what you love.”
“I think reconnecting with my music will really help me put this behind me.” She smiled, the expression soft and a little sad. “What about you? What’s next for you?”
“Back to work,” I said with a shrug. “And you remember that photograph my sister found?” Lena nodded. “Well, Martin the lab tech found something… weird in it. There was someone else with him that day, and it kind of looks like they weren’t there to hold his equipment.”
Lena’s eyes widened. The candlelight turned her brown eyes almost golden. “Really?”
“Maybe there’s something to my family’s theories.” It almost hurt to admit it because I’d spent so long denying that there was anything nefarious going on, but I owed it to Sam and my mum to look into it.
“That’s… crazy,” Lena said. She couldn’t seem to decide on the right word for all that she wanted to say. “How do you feel about it?”
Our meals arrived before I could answer, the waiter setting steaming piles of sauce-coated pasta in front of us. Lena had ordered an alfredo while mine was red and robust and meaty.
“I’m freaked out,” I said once the server was gone. “There was a person in that picture. They looked like they were about to bash my father over the head with a bat or something. Maybe something really did happen to him.”
And that would mean I’d hated him all these years for nothing.
We turned to lighter conversation as we began to eat. Typical first date stuff. Favourite movies and books, top uni experiences, gossip about our siblings, things like that. I soon found myself laughing and smiling, all the darker topics forgotten about for the night. Lena had a smile that burned brighter than the candles on our table, and I wanted to make her smile again and again and never let it fall.
I drove her home at the end of the night and walked her to her front door. We stood on the stoop, hands lightly intertwined, and I stared into her eyes, lit up by the light beside the door. I cupped her cheek and slowly leaned in and kissed her, her lips soft and tasting slightly of gin. My hand slid across her face until it tangled in her hair, her fingers light on my hips. We broke just long enough for her to unlock the door, and then she tugged me inside, and I took her in my arms again as I kicked the door shut behind us.
In the morning, I awoke with Lena’s curls tumbled across my chest, smelling faintly of strawberry shampoo. She stirred as I shifted, eyes blinking open to look up into mine, a sleepy smile on her face.
“Good morning,” she murmured, and I kissed her on the forehead, utterly at ease.
I left after breakfast as both of us had things to do that day, promising to meet for lunch within the next few days. My car was right where I’d left, though there was a white slip of paper stuck under the wipers. I frowned. I was certain I was legally parked.
I tugged the page free and unfolded it.
It simply read, “I.O.U. -M.”
Epilogue
Silence surrounded my small circle of listeners as I finished my tale. Rapt faces stared back at me as I took a drink of water to wet my now parched throat. The night had grown old as I spoke, many of the Gellions Pub’s patrons headed home for bed, but everyone in the group of musicians stayed until the very end, unable to miss a beat.
“That’s some story,” the old man said and whistled.
“But you got together in the end,” a fiddle player pointed out. “So why are you looking for her now?”
“And what about the I.O.U.?” the guitar player asked.
“Stories for another night,” I said. I’d spoken so long I now felt completely void of words.
“I’ll take that as a promise.” The old man winked at me. “Come on. Let the man rest. I should have been in bed hours ago.”
He stood creakily and gathered his instrument case, the other musicians following his lead. I rested on my stool, bad leg stretched out in front of me, and watched them go.
“Thanks for making me seem cool,” a voice said behind me, and I craned my neck around to see Fletcher standing there with her wife on her arm. These days, Fletcher dyed her hair to cover the growing grey, and the undercut had shifted to the left side of her head. She and her wife, Evelyn, had been together for a decade now, and each year, they seemed happier than the one before.
“When did you get here?” I asked and stood to give both of them a hug.
“About halfway through,” Fletcher said. “Do you really come here every week looking for Lena?”
I nodded. “I can’t help it.”
Fletcher smiled sympathetically. She was well aware of my inability to get over Lena Taggert. She had turned into my own Loch Ness Monster conspiracy theory, and though I knew I needed to let her go, I simply couldn’t.
“Let me give you a ride home,” Fletcher said. “Since you look like you’ve had quite a few of those.” She eyed the collection of glasses on the small table beside me.
“I switched to water an hour ago,” I protested, but I handed her my keys. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder to drive with my bad knee. Fletcher grinned and clapped me on the shoulder, and then I followed her and Evelyn out into the night.
A Message from the Author
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Buried Secrets (DCI MacBain Scottish Crimes Book 1) Page 23
