Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ROBBIE
Cat’s phone sits on the kitchen table, its screen lit up with photos of Samantha’s financial mess. David and Cat are recounting their adventure at the resort while I pace. I can’t seem to shake this jittery energy, like I’ve necked five espressos.
“So, let me get this straight.” I force myself to stop and lean back against the counter. “You actually hid under the desk while Samantha and some bloke...” I trail off, unable to keep a smirk from my lips.
Cat groans and buries her face in her hands. “Don’t remind me. I’m going to need therapy.”
“It wasn’t great for me either,” David says. “I had to listen to the whole thing while crammed in a cupboard, being prodded in the ribs by an overly amorous mop.”
I snort and grab one of the cakes I bought while they were risking arrest on my behalf. The sugar rush is probably the last thing I need right now, but fuck it. For the first time since I found that ring in my locker, I feel like I might actually have a shot at clearing my name.
David picks one up too. “Decided to treat us, did you?”
“Well, while you two were playing James Bond, I was stuck here climbing the walls. Figured the least I could do was provide post-mission sustenance.”
Cat reaches for a chocolate cupcake and peels the wrapper back. When she takes a bite, a smudge of frosting gets on the tip of her nose. My fingers twitch with the urge to wipe it away, but I resist. Barely.
“So, these bills,” I say instead, tapping one of the photos on Cat’s phone. “They definitely show she’s in financial trouble?”
Cat nods, still chewing. “Serious trouble. Credit card debt, final notices, even a letter from a debt collection agency. And yet she’s still buying designer handbags and booking spa weekends.”
“Living beyond her means,” David adds, reaching out and wiping the frosting from Cat’s dainty wee nose. “Classic motive for theft.”
I lean closer to examine the photos more carefully, and my shoulder brushes against Cat’s. The contact sends a jolt through me that I pretend not to notice.
“And you’re sure the note you saw had Ashford’s name on it?” I ask. “The guest who lost the watch?”
“Positive,” Cat says. “And your initials too. RM, several times.”
My stomach tightens. “Can’t be a coincidence.”
“But without the actual note...” David doesn’t bother finishing the thought. Doesn’t need to. We’re all thinking the same thing.
“I know.” Cat’s shoulders slump. “I should have grabbed it when I had the chance.”
“Hey.” I catch her gaze. “You did brilliant. Both of you. Most folk would’ve bottled it, but you went through with it, and you got these photos.”
“They establish motive,” David says. “But we still need to prove she actually took the items.”
I run a hand through my hair. “And that she framed me. Cat, can you tell me more about the man? Anything you can remember might help.”
Cat wrinkles her nose, thinking. “I didn’t see much. Just his legs, really. Navy work trousers. Plain, nothing fancy.”
Something clicks in my head. Navy trousers? Not the tartan ones most of the staff wear? The maintenance team wear navy trousers. They’re more practical.
The conversation I had with Drew just before everything went to shit floods back to me. He’d asked if I’d ever considered hooking up with another staff member. Even mentioned Samantha. What was it he said?
“She’s always giving you the stink eye. Maybe she’s just mad because she wants you.”
Christ. Was he fishing? Trying to find out if I was interested in Samantha because he was already involved with her?
And if he and Samantha are screwing, then... might Drew also have been involved with the thefts?
No way. Drew and I get on well. He was one of the few people at the resort I actually liked. He wouldn’t betray me. Would he?
Then again, I haven’t heard from him since I was suspended. I assumed he’d been warned off, like Johnny, but what if he’s been avoiding me because he feels guilty?
“Robbie?” Cat’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“Aye. Just thinking. Navy trousers narrows it down.”
“To who?” David asks.
“Well... maintenance staff, mostly. But there are a few of us. Big resort, you know.” I decide to keep my suspicions about Drew to myself, at least for now. No point throwing accusations around until I’ve considered it a bit more.
Cat polishes off her cupcake and reaches for another. “Stress eating,” she explains when she catches me watching her. “Being an accidental voyeur really works up an appetite.”
David lets out a snort just as his phone chimes. He checks it then stands up. “That’s Johnny. He’s home now—finished his shift at the resort. I should probably head back.” He glances at Cat. “You heading out too or sticking around?”
Cat hesitates, her eyes flicking to mine. “I might stay a bit longer, if that’s okay?”
I shrug, aiming for casual. “Fine by me.”
David gives me an amused look that I choose to ignore. “Well, then. I’ll leave you two to... discuss the case.”
He winks at Cat, who rolls her eyes but smiles. After thanking him again for his help, we see him to the door.
Once his car disappears down the dirt track, Cat and I are left alone. The cottage suddenly feels smaller, more intimate.
“Cup of tea?” I offer, keen for something to do with my hands.
“Sure.” Cat follows me back to the kitchen and drops back into her seat while I fill the kettle. I can feel her watching me as I move around, pulling out mugs and teabags. “So,” she says after a bit. “Your maw.”
I pause, my back to her. “What about her?”
“When we were at the clootie well, you mentioned she treated you differently from Johnny. David filled in some more gaps today, about how she was young when she had you, how she felt trapped.”
I turn slowly and lean back against the counter. “Did he now?”
“I’m just trying to understand you better.” Cat’s voice is soft, lacking the flirtatious edge of our earlier interactions. “After everything today, don’t you think I’ve earned a little trust?”
The kettle clicks off. I pour water into the mugs, buying myself some time. “What do you want to know?” I ask finally.
“Did she really blame you for everything?”
I hand her a mug and take a seat across from her at the table. “Pretty much. If Johnny broke something, it was my fault for not watching him properly. If the house was a mess, it was because I was too destructive. If she was unhappy...” I trail off and take a sip of tea.
“And your da?”
“Never took my side. Not once.” The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. “Still doesn’t.”
Cat studies me over the rim of her mug. “And that’s why this accusation hits you so hard? Because it’s happening all over again—being blamed for something you didn’t do?”
I stare at her, surprised by her insight. “Aye. Something like that.”
She reaches across the table and places her hand over mine. The touch is gentle, undemanding. “We’re going to fix this, Robbie. I promise.”
“I know.” And I do. Somehow, this woman who bounced into my life with her dimples and her ridiculous flirting has become one of the few people I actually trust.
Cat withdraws her hand, but her eyes stay on mine. “About the knickers David spotted in your garage...”
The abrupt change of subject catches me off-guard. “What about them?”
“When David mentioned them yesterday, I thought you were going to combust from embarrassment.” A smile plays at the corners of her mouth. “What exactly have you been doing with them, Robbie MacDonald?”
Images flash through my mind—her on her knees in the woods, the silky fabric pressed to my face, my hand wrapped around myself in the darkness of my bedroom. I clear my throat. “I thought we’d moved past this.”
“Past what?”
“This.” I gesture vaguely between us. “The flirting. The games.”
“Who says I’m playing games?” Cat’s voice drops lower, and she leans forwards slightly. “Maybe I just like you.”
I snort. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know more than you think,” she counters. “I know you saved my brother’s life. I know you gave up fighting after you saw death up close. I know you’re talented at repairing things that seem broken beyond saving.” She pauses, her eyes meeting mine with unexpected intensity. “And I know you’re not the bad boy everyone thinks you are.”
I look away, uncomfortable with how accurately she’s seeing me. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when I see something worth sticking around for.”
There’s a weight to her words that wasn’t there before. When I meet her gaze again, the playfulness has been replaced by something more serious, more genuine.
For a moment, I consider closing the distance between us. Taking her face in my hands and kissing her until neither of us can breathe. But I hold back.
Because the truth is, I don’t know if I could handle something casual with Cat. Once I’ve had a proper taste of her, I’m not sure I’ll be able to share. And a woman like Cat—young, vibrant, with her whole life ahead of her—isn’t looking to settle down with Bannock’s resident fuck-up.
“It’s getting late,” I say instead. “And you’ve had a busy day. Don’t want you driving home knackered.”
Disappointment flashes across her face. She studies me, then she nods, taking the hint. “Didn’t even have a chance to finish this.” She has a final swig of tea. “But you’re right, I am tired.” She stands. “Will you be at my flat tomorrow? To continue the work?”
“Aye. I’ll be there.” I walk her to the door.
She pauses on the threshold, looking up at me with those hazel eyes that see too much. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I watch her walk to her car, fighting the urge to call her back. She drives off, but the energy between us lingers in the air, crackling and restless.