Chapter 49 Quinn
The drive from Scaris to Oban seemed to take forever in the early hours of the morning.
But finally, we were on the ferry and Leth Sholas was in sight.
The colorful row of buildings on Main Street grew more visible as the boat cut through the water.
Relief, as well as urgency, thrummed through me as we neared home.
Taran. It had only been two days, but I missed her.
The thought elicited a spearing pain under my sternum that I still wasn’t used to, my hands tightening around the railing as our boat bobbed across the water, drawing us nearer to home.
I was grateful the weather was calm enough to allow travel back to Leth Sholas. Ramsay and I had driven to Scaris to assess whether we wanted to take on the job of fixing the mistakes made on the Montrose development.
The Montrose brothers had started work on the distillery right away since it takes so long to get a whisky distillery up and running, but the hotel and auxiliary cabins were a mess, and we could definitely fix them.
Since it took five hours to get there and another five hours to get back, the Montroses would pay extra for us to stay in the temporary cabins the previous construction company put up to accommodate the crew.
We would have to stay on Scaris four nights a week to finish the hotel, and I just wasn’t sure if I could do that right now.
All I could think of was Taran.
Until the sound of sirens blared across the noise of the bustling harbor filling me with unease.
The boat jerked as Gillie, the driver, drew it to a stop by the dock.
The blood rushed in my ears as the only two police cars and ambulance on the island flew off Main Street and out of sight.
“What the fuck?” Ramsay muttered.
My mind jumped to worst-case scenario, and I shouted uncharacteristically at the harbor crew to anchor the boat faster. I yanked my phone out of my pocket to call Taran, to reassure myself, and before I could even hit the button, Forde’s name flashed across the screen.
I hurried to answer it. “What’s happening?”
“I’m pulling up to Taran’s,” Forde bit out harshly. “London called the police. Said an intruder broke in. You need to get here.”
I was already hanging up and running.
“Quinn!” Ramsay was at my back.
“It’s Taran!” I yelled as I sprang over the side of the boat and onto the dock. The impact of the drop shuddered through my feet and calves to my knees, but I barely felt it as I sprinted up onward. The sound of heavy footsteps hurried after me as I bolted across the harbor and up onto Main Street.
“Quinn!”
Ramsay ran with me, not saying a word, knowing I didn’t have words in me. My heart was in my throat, choking the life out of me, and I had to push past the sensation.
To get to her.
I never should have bloody left the island!
Sweat dripped down my temples and soaked my shirt as I tore down the street toward the bungalow.
Blue lights flashed from the emergency vehicles parked outside, and neighbors were gathered in their gardens and on the street, peering in curiosity and concern at Taran’s home.
I shoved past Ennis, Taran’s neighbor, uncaring about politeness.
Seeing me coming, others hurried out of my and Ramsay’s way as we bulldozed toward the property.
William, a young police constable on the island, tried to step in my path, but I shoved him too.
“Hey! You can’t go in there!” he shouted helplessly as I ran through the open front door of the home.
“Quinn!” London tried to push past DC Alice Young, who stood with her in the reception hall.
Alice’s eyes flashed in irritation. “You can’t—”
But I was already marching past her into the living room, chest heaving.
DC Paul was there with Forde. Their heads snapped toward me, and they moved ever so slightly.
My gaze dropped to the floor. I saw Forde’s ashen face from where he knelt on the ground.
There was blood. So much blood I felt the room spin.
It was only when I realized the blood belonged to a guy I’d never seen before that panic receded enough for me to bark, “Where’s Taran?”
“The lighthouse, Quinn!” London grabbed me, spinning me around. “I told them. She’s taking him to the lighthouse. You all have to go after her!”
“Who?”
“Some crack dealer this idiot brought over.” London spat toward the man the paramedics were working on.
“It’s about a pocket watch in Taran’s family’s collection.
It’s worth millions and the appraiser guy didn’t tell her.
Instead he told some drug dealer he owed.
He was the one who broke in, who tried to take her in Oban.
He has her now, and he has a gun. She promised to take him to the storage facility where the antiques are, but she’s taking him to the lighthouse instead.
” London held out keys. Taran’s car keys.
I looked over London’s shoulder to where Ramsay stood. “Are you with me?”
“Quinn, we’ll send officers after them!” DC Paul cried, but Ramsay and I were already out the door.
We were in Taran’s car and racing down the street before Paul could even assemble his small unit of cops.
“They should have left as soon as London told them,” I seethed.
“I’m not armed.” Ramsay squeezed his hands around the steering wheel.
“I don’t care. I just need to get to her.” Adrenaline coursed through me as fear yawned in the back of my mind like a monstrous beast. I couldn’t let it win. I had to focus. I had to get to Taran. The thought of being too late … I swallowed back the vomit that wanted to rise at the thought.
“We’ll get to her in time,” Ramsay vowed.
If we didn’t … I didn’t think I’d survive losing her again.