by Amy Vansant
“Aye, ye did.”
Sean’s expression crinkled with concern. “Messed up, who?”
“We ran into a guy who likes beating up women. I had him on the ropes but Dez shot him. That was definitely more effective.”
“Dez shot someone?” Sean rounded the sofa to inspect Catriona’s busted lip. He sucked in a breath as he saw the extent of her injuries. “Who did this?”
“It’s a long story. But the short version is he’s dead and Tyler’s back. I think.”
“He is. I saw him earlier.” Sean sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”
Broch pinched the air. “She drank those wee bottles.”
Catriona rolled her eyes. “Just a few.”
“A few in the hotel ’n‘ a few oan the plane.”
Sean grimaced. “It’s six o’clock in the morning.”
Catriona shrugged. “Not really. Not when you haven’t slept in two days and spent half that time tied up in a basement watching women...” Catriona trailed off and walked towards her kitchen. “I could use a shot or two more to be honest with you.”
Sean looked at Broch. “Maybe you can tell me what’s going on?”
Before he could start the story, Catriona interrupted.
“We’re married now, y’know.”
Sean looked from Broch to Catriona and back again. Broch shook his head.
“Nae really. It was a lark.”
Sean put his hand on his head. “I thought I came here to tell you a story, but now I think I need to hear what happened to—”
“Sean, you’re here. Thank god.”
Broch felt the door bounce against his hip and turned to find Fiona standing in the doorway with their luggage, one piece in each hand.
Sean’s apparent agitation increased tenfold. “Fiona?”
“Fiona?” echoed Catriona as she straightened from where she’d been searching in the lower kitchen cabinet. Upon spotting Fiona, her lip curled. “You’re in my house.”
Fiona lowered the suitcases to her left and shut the door behind her. “He’s insane.”
Catriona leaned across the kitchen island. “Why are you in my house?”
Fiona scowled at Catriona and then looked at Sean. “What’s wrong with her? She looks like she’s been hit by a truck.”
Sean shook his head. “That wasn’t her, actually. Who’s insane?”
“Rune. He said he killed you.”
“I suppose he did.”
“What?” Catriona had been trying to climb on a bar stool and she paused, teetering, wincing with the effort. Broch steadied her ascent and helped her position herself on the seat.
“Thank you,” she whispered before addressing the group. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on? And explain it to me like I’m brain dead, because I pretty much am.”
Sean frowned. “That’s what I came to tell you. Rune came after me. Shot me. I ended up back in Scotland.”
Broch perked. “Ye did?”
Sean smiled. “I did. I saw you as a baby again.”
“Bit yer here.”
Sean glanced at Fiona. “I had help.”
It was clear to Broch that Sean had more to say, but was reticent to say it in front of Fiona.
Seeming to sense the same thing, Fiona shook a finger at Sean.
“You don’t have to hide any secrets from me, old man. I’m done with Rune. He tried to kill me. I barely got out of there alive. I slept in my trailer last night.”
“Ha!” barked Catriona. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. That was louder than I meant it to be. But I’ll take your I slept in my trailer and raise you a I was tied up in an underground torture bunker.”
Her eyes closed, head on her hand, her elbow on the breakfast bar propping up the lot. She snorted a tiny snore and then peeked at Broch with one eye. “I still don’t know why she’s in my apartment.”
Broch stepped closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from sliding off the stool.
“I came looking for you to tell you Sean is dead.” Fiona tilted her head to the side. “Except he’s not.”
Sean shook his head. “I think we need to figure out what’s going on here.”
Catriona’s breathing grew heavy and Broch put an arm around her. “Ah need tae put her in her kip.”
Catriona snorted, her head snapping up. “What? No, I can’t miss this. I’m awake. I’m awake.” She rubbed her eyes and squinted at Fiona. “You’re still here.”
Fiona frowned. “I came to warn you.”
“So you’re saying we’re all on the same side now?”
Fiona scoffed. “Well,
don’t get crazy. But I did just stab Rune in the neck. Last I saw him he was on his knees in my parking lot, bleeding out.”
“Is he dead? Did you see him disappear?”
Fiona shook her head. “I don’t know. I was busy getting away. But if he’s not, I need you people to figure out how to kill him for good.”
Sean sighed and sat on the arm of the sofa.
“Again.”
Catriona snored.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy has been writing and finding other creative ways to make no money since high school.
She specializes in fun, comedic reads about accident prone, easily distracted women with questionable taste in men.
So, autobiographies, mostly.
Amy is the former East Coast Editor of SURFER Magazine but the urge to drive up and down the coast interviewing surfers has long since left her. She works at home with her goofy husband.
Other Books by Amy Vansant
Pineapple Port Mysteries
Funny, clean mysteries full of unforgettable characters. Plenty of thrills without anything TOO rough.
View the Series (Seven Books)
Kilty Romantic Comedy/Thrillers
Funny, suspenseful romances with a touch of time-travel.
See the whole series (Four Books)
Angeli Urban Fantasy
Thrilling urban-fantasy with a touch of romantic comedy.
See the whole series (Three books)
Slightly Romantic Comedies
New Adult/Adult zany romantic romps
Slightly Stalky (I) Slightly Sweaty (II)
The Magicatory (middle-grade fantasy)
OTHER BOOKS
Moms are Nuts (editor: humor anthology)
The Surfer’s Guide to Florida (non-fiction: out of print)
