6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Steph
“ Y ou did what ?” Moira squeals at me as we leave the funeral home.
“I said I did something stupid.” I tell her, frustrated. It’s bothering the shit out of me that it happened. And I’m so glad that Malcolm stopped me, even though I’ll never admit to it. Well, maybe to Moira, but that’s it.
“What...did you do?” She asks, stuffing the flower arrangements into the back of her car, so that we can drop them off at the senior’s home where granny lived. “Is this anything to do with Malcolm?” She guesses. “Because you seem to lose your head when it comes to him for some reason.”
I hop into her car, leaving mine behind, so that I can give her a hand dropping the arrangements off. “Yes, it’s to do with Malcolm.” I lift a finger. “But, just to be clear, everything else went well at the funeral. Callum wasn’t stupid enough to show up.”
“There’s that. But who knows where he is. Twenty bucks says that if I call around to any of my brothers, that he’ll be hiding out with one of them.”
“You really think he’s that stupid?” I squeak.
“Well, he better not come after me.” Moira states.
“Why. Because you’ve got your big, burly boyfriend and his entourage to protect you?” I comment snidely, but half teasingly.
She shoots me a look. “It’s not just that, Steph. I’ll take him on a run for his money, the way that he spoke to me on the phone.”
“He’s delusional, Moira. Courtesy of your da, he’s got it in his head that you’re the villain here. But I’ll fix him.” I add under my breath.
“What do you mean?” She looks at me, her interest suddenly piqued.
I hadn’t planned on telling her what I know, but since I seem to have taken leave of my senses...and of my mouth...it’s too late now. “Let’s just say that I’ve got something that may deter him from coming after any of us, should we need it.”
She’s aghast. “Well, Jesus, Steph! Why didn’t you say something! My God, do you know how much trouble we’ve caused the Harris family! Do you know that Dougall thinks that we’re a fucking charity case?!”
“I heard.” I say, unimpressed.
“Well...out with it, Steph. What do you have?”
I look at her. “Granny’s pillowcase. It’s got Callum’s filthy prints all over it.”
Her eyes bulge. “Are you daft?! Why the hell are you holding on to that! You should have given it to the police, Steph!” She’s shrieking.
I round on her. “Sure, Moira! I’ll give it to the cops! They barely believe us that granny was killed to begin with! They’re liable to lose the one piece of evidence that we have and then Callum will never be caught!”
“Well, what then, Steph! Do you have a fucking forensics lab? Are you going to run tests on the thing? And then what? Are you going to hand that to the police? They’ll laugh in your face! That’s tampering with evidence, and you’ll likely be charged yourself, Steph! God! What were you thinking!”
“I was thinking that they’d fuck it up, Moira! You know that the judicial system here in the states sucks!”
Her mouth opens wide. “How do I know that? Have I been arrested? Do I know anyone that’s been arrested in the states? No! My da is in Scotland! His case is in Scotland, Steph!”
“I’m not daft! I know that!” I sober slightly. “I don’t know...I just...I panicked. I figured I’d have a bargaining chip. I’ll...send it to Scotland. Let officials over there deal with it.”
Moira shakes her head. “What would be the point? Granny was murdered here, Steph. The case is being investigated here. Not in Scotland. They’ll have nothing to do with it except if Callum is there, and even then, he’ll just be extradited. You need to take that pillowcase to the police, Steph. Like it or not.”
“Well, what if I tell Callum about it first? What if I threaten him? Make him confess or else tell him that I’ll take it to the cops?”
She gives me a look like I’m an idiot. “He’s more out of his mind than you are, Steph. He’ll think you’re bluffing.”
“It’s worth a try.”
She chuckles mirthlessly. “And how are you going to contact him to threaten him, hm? Lord knows where he is, Steph. If he’s got any brains he’ll be hiding. And I’m sure that he is, seeing as authorities haven’t found him yet.”
“And that’s where I’m confused. If Dougall Harris has eyes on him, then how come they haven’t located him yet?”
Another exasperated sigh. “Because you heard yourself that Dougall Harris isn’t impressed by us. He had to have his arm twisted to send Rory with Declan and Malcolm to the funeral. He doesn’t have a team of investigators working on this. We’re lucky that he’s letting the lads even come around us.”
“So, your brother came after us, and yet we’re the ones to be blamed here?”
“It’s not a matter of who is to be blamed, Steph. Dougall is looking out for his family.”
“And if that’s so, then how come he isn’t forbidding Declan from seeing you?”
She shrugs. “I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose that Declan has a mind of his own and Dougall knows that if he does forbid him, that Declan will do so, anyway.”
“And if that’s the case, then how come he isn’t putting better protection on us? It seems to me that Dougall is the idiot here, not me.”
Moira rolls her eyes as we reach the funeral home. “God, Steph, this is a mess. I think you should give the pillowcase to the police. That’s the only solution here. The case is under investigation and who knows if they’ll find anything else.”
It’s my turn to look at her like she’s an idiot. “Moira, the lad wasn’t wearing any gloves, clearly. If they have any brains, they’ll fingerprint the doorknobs, etc., like a person with any intelligence.”
“Then why did you think that they’d miss the boat on the pillowcase?” She points out, veins popping out of her neck with frustration and condemnation.
“Because I can’t be sure, Moira. At that point, we didn’t even know if they would investigate. Granny was in a senior’s home and if you didn’t know her, you would assume that she’d passed in her sleep. I mean, they didn’t even do an autopsy.”
I feel like I just scored a point with that comment. “Fine. But you still need to surrender that pillowcase to the police. I don’t even know if it would be submissible in court now that you’ve tampered with it, anyway. Did you ever think of that?”
Point for her. “It’s in a plastic bag.”
We’re sitting in her car with the windows closed, shouting at each other. People are staring but both of us are all but oblivious. “So?! You could have had him dirty up his hands and force him to put his prints all over the thing, Steph! Don’t you think that that’s what they’ll say?! Any good defense attorney would bring that up in court! You taking that away was so fucking stupid! You might as well burn the thing, because now you can’t even prove that those prints were done during the murder!”
I’m so angry I fly out of the car, stomp to the back and start unloading. We’re both all but baring our teeth at each other as we unload the flowers. The anger is taking over and I do something very stupid...
...I call Malcolm.
Malcolm
I’m in the middle of a meeting, arguing with a client that doesn’t want me to pull his money out of a hedge fund that has been stagnant for the past quarter, because he’s fucking superstitious, and he believes that his da visited him in his sleep, warning him to stay put financially. The man is in his seventies and I’m this close to calling his son to tell him that his da is borderline nuts or coming down with dementia. This client was passed over to me as a punishment from my Uncle Dougall for not staying with this lass that he wanted me to continue banging, so that he could get a leg up on her da’s investment portfolio. It was the one and only time I agreed to fuck a potential client, and it was only because the lass was hot as fuck and very sweet on me. Problem was, Clare was way too high maintenance, and I couldn’t so much as fart without her knowing my exact whereabouts.
That was three years ago. I was hoping that Dougall would let me give old Farley Watson to one of our interns, but he’s adamant that I keep him. Evidently, he’s not over the fact that I wasn’t willing to keep my dick wet with her for the business. Fortunately, Farley hasn’t been here in a while, but I had to call him back to review his portfolio, or at least convince him to move part of his money out of that godforsaken fund, since the whole thing is starting to tank. I swear da just makes me keep him as a reminder of the ways that he can make my life so much more difficult if I don’t agree to do the things that he wants me to do.
And as I feel my phone vibrate with a text message, just as Farley is running down his obnoxious list of reasons why he can’t move his money, I look at the screen. Normally I’d never do such a thing while I’m with a client, but it’s my only solace, and if I don’t look at something else, I’m going to kill the motherfucker. Then I wish I’d ignored it. The text is from Clare herself, and I can’t help but feel that da has orchestrated that. She’s asking if we can meet up for coffee or lunch, as she’s in town. I hadn’t known that she’d left town. Had I, that would have called for a party or at least a dance of glee.
After pondering if I should ignore it, I decide that if I do, I'm sure that Dougall will get wind of it. Have I mentioned that my uncle is relentless? When he wants something, he’ll stop at nothing to get it. And I did hear that Clare’s family business was just recently interviewed by Forbes magazine, so Dougall's out for blood again. It occurs to me that the recent disaster I’ll call Stephanie still looms behind me, and it almost makes my tryst with Clare seem like a walk in the park. That’s half the reason why I answer Clare, and agree to meet with her for a late lunch.
It’s not thirty seconds later when I get a call from Steph, and I wonder if Uncle Dougall is sharing his fucking crystal ball with anyone else. That call I have to ignore if only for a minute, while I wrap up things with Farley. I get him to agree to meet with me in a few weeks, after he’s reviewed the documentation that I’m about to send him via email, outlining the recent decline of the stocks that greatly affect his portfolio. Farley is a man that reads, so here’s hoping that this will knock some sense into him. Once the old man is gone, I see Dougall walking down the hallway. He actually stops to shake Farley’s hand, making my gut clench.
“How was your meeting?” Dougall asks.
“You know damn well how that went.” I say under my breath, trying to hide the snarl in my voice. “I suppose you know that Clare reached out.”
He plays dumb, even though we both know it. “Oh?”
I smirk, looking none too pleased. “She’s in town. She wants to have a late lunch with me.”
“And are you going to go?”
“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, now, do I.”
“There’s always a choice, lad.”
“Not if I don’t want to shoulder Farley anymore.”
He simply walks away from me and says. “You know the way it works, Malcolm.”
“Aye.” I mutter to myself, feeling my fist ball up. I figure I’m pissed off, anyway, so I might as well return Steph’s call and get it over with.
She answers on the first ring. “Malcolm.”
“Aye.” I practically snarl.
“It sounds like you’re having just as shitty a day as I am.”
“You guessed right.”
“Would it make your day better if I said to come pick me up at the nursing home?”
I look at the phone. “What the fuck are you doing there?”
“I had to drop off the flowers from the funeral. Moira pissed me off and she’s my ride.”
The nursing home is not far out of my way, and I could use a break. I don’t have any more clients today, just a meeting this afternoon, and in plenty of time for me to go have a late lunch with Clare, not that I’m gung-ho about that or anything. “I’ll be there shortly.” I say and hang up.
I figure that Steph is the lesser of two evils. I leave without saying a word to anyone. The travel time helps to calm me, and by the time I arrive at the home, I’ve come back down to earth. Moira’s car is still parked in the lot, but I see Steph standing on the corner, waiting, phone in hand. “So, you tell me your story and I'll tell you mine, if you like.” She says, unimpressed.
“You doing work on the street corner there?” I ask, only half teasing.
“I’m back and forth with Colton Ford, and I was checking in with my engineering team. I have to get back. I didn’t think that I’d get away with much more time away and I was right.” She states reasonably.
“What did Moira do to piss you off?” I ask her conversationally.
With a sigh, she says. “I’ve just been talking for the last fifteen minutes. How about you go first.”
I frown. “Sure.” I lick my lips. “It’s nothing that I’m not used to. My Uncle Dougall gave me a shitty client a few years ago, and I don’t know who I’d like to kill more; him or the client.”
“What’s so bad about the client?”
I give her the Cole’s notes version. “So, pass him on to someone else.”
“I wish it was that easy. But I might have a solution after lunch.”
“Oh?”
I tell her about Clare. Her face changes. “You? In a relationship?”
“Why does that sound so shocking?” I ask her. I know that she’s not being a bitch. I can tell the difference. She’s just curious.
“Well, you don’t exactly scream long-term relationship material, Malcolm.”
“And how’s that? I haven’t slept with you , and you’ve all but thrown yourself at me.”
“So, abstinence is the key to a successful long-term relationship?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. What I mean is that I’m not the type of guy to just bounce from bed to bed. I think that holds more water for a long-term relationship than a guy that does, right?”
That hits a nerve. She changes the subject. “And why are you going out with this girl again if you can’t stand her?”
“Like I said, Steph. It’s to appease my uncle. He might reconsider having me keep Farley on my roster if I do it.”
“I think he means more so if you give things another go with this bitch.” She says with a soft scoff.
I can’t tell what’s going on inside her head, but she seems displeased, and I’m not in the mood for yet another fight today. “Why don’t you tell me what happened with Moira?”
She gives me a look as we pull into the street where Moira’s building is, so that she can pick up her car. “It was a difference of opinion.” She says vaguely, and I know that she’s not going to divulge more, even though that was the deal. Then she surprises me. “Look, can you walk me to my car?”
What happens next shocks the shit right out of me, but not really...