Chapter 7
W hen Jamie heard footsteps on the second floor, he lifted his arm and glanced at his watch with a frown. It was only 5:30 in the morning. Why was Pauley up so early?
She’d retreated to the bedroom upstairs last night after eating about half of the plate he’d fixed for her. Just when he’d thought they were making some progress, she’d seemed to shut down.
The sudden humming of the water pipes told him that she jumped into the shower. Old houses always seemed to have a few groaning pipes. He swung his legs to the floor and slipped into the sweatpants hanging on his bed post and headed for his own loo. He might as well shower and get some breakfast started. He didn’t know what Pauley liked, but anything would be better than an unhealthy donut.
After his shower, he was perusing the hanging shirts in his closet when the banging on his front door interrupted him. Who in the world would that be at this hour?
Grabbing a black workout t-shirt, he slipped it over his head and made his way to the door. The pounding sounded again as if the person was impatient or had an emergency. He peered through the keyhole to see a young man resembling Pauley with a scowl on his face. Was this her older son? And if so, what the devil was he doing knocking on his door just as the sun was breaking over the horizon?
Unlocking the deadbolt and turning the doorknob, he opened the door. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything before the young man laid into him.
“Is my mother here?” he demanded, his russet eyebrows racing down to form a frown between his brown eyes. “I want to see her right now!”
“And who might ye be?” Jamie asked, eying the tall lanky lad with a crop of russet curls. He was wearing casual slacks and a gray bomber jacket with a company logo on the breast.
“I’m Elliot, her son.”
“How do I know if ye are her son if I don’t know who ye are looking for?” Jamie asked, his lips quirking. “And who said this unknown woman is even here? I’ll no allow just any hothead appearing on my doorstep into my house, ye know.”
“My mother is Pauley MacBride, and my sister Natalie told me she was here,” he replied belligerently. “Now stand aside so I can see for myself.”
Jamie held up his hand in a warning gesture. “Ye are no coming in here with that kind of an attitude, I don’t care who ye are. Settle down, lad, or I’ll settle ye down,” Jamie replied firmly.
The young man gawped at him and looked madder than ever, and then he heard Pauley’s voice behind him.
“Elliot, what are ye doing here?”
She came up to stand beside Jamie with a frown, her jacket over her arm.
“Mum, ye need to get yer things and leave this man’s house,” Elliott sputtered, putting his front foot inside the door way. “Ye shouldn’t even be here. Have ye lost yer mind?”
“That’s enough,” Jamie barked, pushing his hand into the young lad’s chest and putting his other arm in front of Pauley. “Ye’ll apologize to yer mother for yer tone and attitude, young man, or I’ll throw ye out this door. And don’t think I can’t do it either. I don’t care if ye are her son, she deserves yer respect for having given birth to ye if nothing else. She’ll nae be disrespected in front of me or there’ll be hell to pay.”
Pauley put her hand on Jamie’s protective arm. “It’s alright, Jamie, I can handle my son.”
He glanced back at her to see a grin hovering over her mouth. “I’m sure ye can, Pauley, but that’s nae the point.” He turned back to Elliott, who was now gawping at him. “Well?”
The scowl slowly left Elliott’s face and a glimmer of respect and understanding suddenly dawned in his eyes. “Ye are right, sir. I was worried when Natalie called me and I thought ye were taking advantage of my mum. I can see that’s not the case.” His eyes slid up to Pauley’s. “I’m sorry, Mum, I shouldn’t have yelled at ye like that.”
Jamie nodded and moved his hand. “That’s better. Now, I was just going to fix a bite of breakfast for yer mum before she heads off to work. Ye are welcome to join us if ye like.”
“I don’t have time for breakfast, Jamie,” Pauley replied, her mouth tightening as she slipped into her jacket sleeves. “Quinn called me earlier; I’m needed at a crime scene even as we speak. They think they’ve found the man who bombed my house last night, but he isn’t talking because he’s dead. Can ye take me to my car?”
Jamie shot her a worried frown. “Of course I can take ye, just let me get dressed.”
Elliott intervened. “I can take ye, mum, since I’m already out and about. I have some cheesy scones in my car that I just picked up from Oates, and ye can have one of those on the way.” He held his hand out to Jamie. “Thank ye, sir, for taking care of mum. I can see Natalie had it all wrong. She was just pissed because mum didn’t come over there last night.”
Jamie decided he liked Elliott after all now that the lad’s eyes were twinkling with a knowing look. He was surprised when Pauley impulsively reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank ye for letting me use yer spare room, Jamie. I appreciate the hospitality.” She started towards the door and Elliott moved aside to allow her out.
Jamie grabbed her hand and swung her around to face him. “I’ll see ye later. Be careful today. Just because the bomber is dead doesn’t mean this is all over,” he urged with a concerned frown. “I’ll check on Luca while ye are working. Call me if there are any new developments.” Then he dropped a kiss on her lips, much to her surprise.
“Aye. I-I will,” she stammered, then blushed as she pulled away and preceded her son out the door.
Watching Elliott and Pauley cross the porch and head around the side of the house to his waiting car in the driveway told Jamie a lot about the young lad. His hand was protectively on his mother’s back and his demeanor was now one of respect and caring. With a satisfied nod, he closed the door.
***
P AULEY STARED OVER at her son. “What did ye say?” Evasive tactics with Elliot wouldn’t work very long because all her kids were just as stubborn as she was.
“I asked if ye were serious about this MacNamara?” he asked, shooting her a quick glance as he backed out of Jamie’s driveway.
“I just met him yesterday,” she protested, not wanting to define her feelings for the wretched man.
“Ye kissed him, and ye let him kiss ye,” he mocked with a smarmy grin. “Was there more to last night than there appeared to be?”
Pauley shot him a disapproving glare. “Nay, and even if there was, it wouldn’t be any business of yers. I don’t have to answer to my children,” she huffed.
He reached over and picked up the bag of cheesy scones and handed it to her, then spoke gruffly. “If there is, I’d be glad to see it. It’s been six years, going on seven, Mum. Ye deserve some happiness. Dad’s been a right nasty jobber to ye. I wish he’d stop drinking.”
Pauley didn’t reply, she just took a bite out of the warm, doughy scone. “Just drive, Elliot,” she ordered while chewing the cheesy goodness.
“Ye never let us talk with our mouths full,” he teased, taking one of the scones for himself. Silence reigned while they both ate.
***
T WENTY MINUTES LATER , Pauley was standing in an alleyway behind The Tasty Skink, a local diner specializing in seafood, staring down at another thug she recognized. He was a friend of Tommie Ruskag named Arthur Blackburn. There was a bullet hole in the back of his head and he was lying on his stomach in the debris near a trash bin on wheels. The alley stank of fishy leftovers and trash that the alley cats had dug out of the bins.
“What makes ye think he’s the one?” she asked Mica, pulling her jacket over her nose.
Natalie peered up at her mother. “There’s part of a rag in his back pocket that matches the rag bits that didn’t burn in the bottle from the house,” she responded.
“Do ye have a time of death?”
“Based on lividity and internal body temp, I’d say he died around midnight last night. I’ll know more when we get him back to the lab.”
Pauley nodded and glanced over at Mica. “This makes two known thugs, who knew each other, to die within 24 hours. Is that just a rotten coincidence, Mica? Or am I imagining things?”
Mica wrinkled his nose. “No doubt there’s something rotten in this alley, that’s a given. But aye, it sure seems a coincidence. Ye sure Luca never left Neamh last night?” he asked facetiously.
Pauley snorted. “Don’t be a smart arse, Mica.”
Both of their cell phones went off at once with a message from Chief Inspector Tannock that he wanted to see them immediately.
“What do ye suppose that’s about?” Pauley asked.
Mica shook his head and dropped his cellphone in his pocket. “Don’t have a clue, lass, but we’d best get going. Ye know how he gets when ye make him wait.”
“Aye, I’ll meet ye there,” Pauley replied.
When Pauley arrived at the station, Mica was just parking and he waited for her at the door. They walked together towards Quinn’s door and then Pauley knocked.
“Come in,” came the gruff order from inside.
When she opened the door, the gloating male by the window had her stopping short in surprise. “Brodie Macalister,” she stated flatly, her eyes narrowing at the satisfaction in his smirking grin. “What are ye doing here? I heard ye were working off a fishing ship,” she taunted, strolling inside and folding her arms across her chest.
There was no denying the triumph in his dark eyes. “I’m sure ye would like that, but as it stands, I’m SDS Macalister to ye,” he replied, flashing his Detective Superintendent Badge. “I’m also working in conjunction with Interpol and the Highland Special Drug Task Force. “I’ll be taking over yer case regarding Ruskag and Blackburn.”
“Since when are two known thugs so interesting to Interpol?” Mica asked with a wary frown.
“And when did Interpol decide they needed an errand boy to run out for coffee refills,” snarked Pauley, enjoying the dark red flush that crept up Brodie’s neck. The only seniority he held over her was crime scene seniority if they were at the same scene. And that was only because he’d been in the position longer than she had. Other than that, their title was the same.
“That’s enough, MacBride,” Quinn ordered. “Ye’ll hold yer tongue with senior law enforcement. The International Police is taking lead on this case because the ongoing investigation they are involved in has extended to our jurisdiction.”
“I’ll need all yer case files and forensics evidence,” Brodie gloated with a slimy grin. “And the two of ye are to stay away from our investigation.”
Pauley’s eyes narrowed. “Drugs have always been a problem in the Highlands.”
Brodie nodded with a knowing grin. “Aye. I know yer son killed Ruskag, which makes me wonder how deeply involved he might be?”
“My son has nothing to do with drugs,” Pauley snapped and started forward, intending to wipe the smirk off Brodie’s face.
Mica grabbed her arm. “Let it go, Pauley. Is that all ye need, Chief?” he asked Quinn.
“That’s all fer now, Mica. I know ye both have other cases, so carry on,” Quinn instructed.
Pauley sat at her desk and waited until her hateful ex-partner finally left. She would have flipped him off as he shot her a triumphant smirk on his way out, but she wouldn’t put it past him to order her written up. Then she jumped up and barreled into Quinn’s office, Mica right behind her.
“What gives, Quinn?” Pauley grated between clinched teeth. “How did that smarmy bastert end up working with Interpol? Are they desperate these days? And why is he hijacking our investigation? I wouldn’t trust that man any further than I could throw him, even if he is law enforcement.”
“Close the door,” Quinn instructed to Mica with a sigh before leaning back in his chair. “Sit down, both of you.”
Mica scowled as they took the chairs in front of the chief. “Pauley’s right about this one, Quinn. I don’t trust Macalister either. He was a right pain when he worked here, and some of his results in his investigations were suspicious to me.”
Quinn leaned forward with a steely glare. “The man left here with a sterling record, but I can’t deny I was glad to see the back of him myself.”
“That’s because he’s squirrely,” Pauley shot back, remembering when Brodie had seemed to get a lot more enjoyment in the physical arrests at times than she thought he should have. It was as if he enjoyed inflicting pain on his suspects, but never crossed the line into police brutality. She’d never liked him, and didn’t trust him at all. She’d been glad when he left.
“Ye know I can’t tell ye anything,” Quinn added.
“Oh, come on. Ye can give us something, surely?” Mica leaned forward.
Quinn hesitated. “I can’t give ye any details, and I don’t know any names; he’s keeping that quiet. But he says he has a confidential informant involved, and he doesn’t want that informant at risk by competing with us.”
“A CI?” Mica asked thoughtfully. “I thought I knew most of the CI’s around here.”
“Look, Pauley,” Quinn sighed. “Why don’t ye take a few days off until after Luca’s hearing? If ye hang around here, ye are just going to drive yerself crazy.”
“We can’t be sure Pauley isn’t a target,” Mica objected.
Quinn shot her a sly look. “Staying with Jamie will keep ye out of sight, and ye can arrange the repairs to yer house. Mica, you can keep an eye on Jamie’s house while Pauley is staying there. Plenty of time to check on Luca too,” he added.
Mica turned to Pauley. “Does Jamie have a security system installed?”
Pauley shook her head. “Nay, I don’t remember seeing one.”
“If he’s going to be hanging around with ye, lass, he might as well get one installed,” Quinn threw out there. “Trouble seems to follow ye around.”
Pauley rolled her eyes. “And maybe the man doesn’t want a security system in his home.”
Quinn picked up his cell phone. “We’ll just see about that.” He punched in some numbers and held the phone to his ear.
“Hiya.”
Jamie’s voice came across the line and Quinn put the phone on speaker.
“Hey, Jamie. Quinn here and ye are on speaker with Pauley and her partner, Mica.”
“What can I do for ye, Chief Inspector?”
“Since Pauley is staying with ye, would ye mind having a security system installed at yer place? The lass seems to attract trouble, and I’m making her take a few days off until after Luca’s hearing.”
There was silence for a moment, then Jamie came back over the line. “I assume this is agreeable to Pauley? She is very welcome to stay with me as long as she needs to, but I want to make sure she’s on board with it.”
Pauley leaned forward with a smirk. “If ye are willing to have a trouble magnet, Jamie, I’ll supervise my house repairs from yer place. But there’s no need to go to the expense of a security system just for me.”
“Nonsense,” Jamie replied briskly. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to do anyway, and this is as good a time as any to put that into play. I’ll make some phone calls.”
“If ye are at home, Jamie, I’ll make the phone calls,” replied Quinn. “I have someone who will do it immediately.”
“I was going to head up to Neamh, but I’ll wait. Maybe Pauley and I can ride up together later. Lucerne is fixing American Lasagna tonight and she’s already invited us, if that’s alright with ye, lass?”
“Aye, I love Lasagna,” Pauley agreed, feeling once again like she was being organized. Somehow it didn’t seem too important to get peeley walley about it though. She kind of liked it when Jamie was doing it.
“I love Lucerne’s cooking,” Quinn remarked fervently. “Darro is damned lucky to have such a fine cook.”
“Do ye want to come too, Quinn?” Jamie responded dryly.
“Nay, but I’ll take a raincheck. Now, get off the phone, I’m a busy man.”
“Wheesht, ye bampot, ye called me.”
They heard the phone go silent and Pauley snickered behind her hand.
Quinn glared at the phone and then looked up. “Ye two still here? Find somewhere to be.”
“Aye, sir,” Pauley and Mica said together as they got up and left the office.
“So, are we going to the animal shelter first? Or to the Dunlaven market area?” Pauley asked Mica as they walked out of the station.
Mica held the door open for her. “ We , aren’t going anywhere. Ye heard what the chief said. Go home, Pauley. I’ll go to the animal shelter,” he added with a snicker. “My dog needs his jabs.”
“ My home isn’t livable,” she griped.
“Go to Jamie’s house then.”
“Maybe Jamie would feel like adopting a dog. I feel like I might need a dog or a cat,” she mused with a wicked grin.
“What ye need is to be turned over someone’s knee,” Mica groused as they walked up to her car. “But since that’s not likely to happen, I’ll let ye know what I find out after some discreet inquiries.”
“Okay,” Pauley agreed, feeling excited at the thought of going home to Jamie. That had a nice ring to it.
Mica’s eyes narrowed. “Are ye feeling alright? I’ve never known ye to give up without an argument.” He reached up and touched her forehead. “Could it be the love bug has bitten yer delectable butt cheek?” he teased.
Pauley knocked his hand away. “I’m going to keep that line to hold against ye with yer wife,” she declared. “Now, get to yer work before I change my mind about following Quinn’s orders.”
Mica backed up, both hands out front. “Forget I said that. Miley doesn’t need to know everything,” he protested, chuckling. Then he turned and hightailed it to his squad car.
Pauley watched him go, shaking her head. She and Mica had always gotten along, which was why Quinn didn’t usually pair them together. They were too much alike, each driven to discover the truth in their investigations. He wanted them to help the less driven constables to achieve their potential. She rolled her eyes as she got into her car.
As she started the vehicle, her thoughts turned to Brodie Macalister. The man was a real snake, but he had solved cases, she’d give him that. She still couldn’t believe he was with the Drug Task Force. They were under the Aberdeen Highland Council, which meant that must be where he’d been for the last year. And who was the CI he had under his control? She was definitely going to do some digging on that one.