Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ROBBIE
The countryside blurs past as my motorcycle thunders down the narrow road, each bend bringing me closer to answers, or so I hope. I push thoughts of Cat—her laugh, her touch, her taste—to the back of my mind. I need a clear head for this.
Drew lives in a small hamlet about fifteen minutes outside Bannock, just a handful of stone cottages clustered around a crossroads, with sheep dotting the surrounding hills. The sun hangs low in the sky as I approach, casting long shadows across the landscape.
His car sits in the small gravel drive, confirming he’s home. I come to a stop and cut the engine, swing my leg over, remove my helmet, and take a moment to gather my thoughts. This conversation could go several ways, and I need to play it right.
Three sharp knocks on his door. Footsteps approach from inside, then the door swings open.
“Robbie?” Drew’s eyebrows shoot up. “What brings you out here?” He’s in jeans and a faded T-shirt, his hair a little unruly.
“Just thought I’d check in,” I say with a casual shrug. “Been a while.”
“Aye... of course.” Drew hesitates just long enough to make me wonder if he’d rather I weren’t here. “Come in, mate.”
I follow him into his small living room. It’s neater than I remember. When I was last here—helping him lug in a new washing machine—empty beer cans littered the coffee table and his gaming stuff was sprawled across the floor. Now everything has been tidied away, the surfaces wiped clean. There’s even a vase of fresh flowers.
“Place is looking good. I didn’t take you for the floral type.”
Drew follows my gaze and laughs, though it sounds a touch forced. “Ah, well. Trying to make an effort to appear civilised these days. Beer?”
“On the bike,” I say, settling into an armchair.
“Right, aye. Tea? Water?”
“I’m good.”
Drew perches on the edge of the sofa opposite, his posture oddly stiff for someone in his own living room. “So... how’ve you been? This whole situation is crazy.”
“Been better,” I say flatly. “You?”
“Can’t complain. Listen, mate, I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Your da made it pretty clear we weren’t supposed to contact you.” He drums his fingers against his knee. “Also, this is awkward, but I’ve got to say it. I’ve... been promoted. To your old position.”
I keep my expression neutral, though something twists in my gut. “Makes sense. You know the ropes.”
“Aye, well, the circumstances are shite. Nobody believes you actually did it, you know.”
“Nobody?”
“Okay, maybe not nobody . But I don’t, and Johnny doesn’t. Anyway...” He attempts a grin, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You just here for a social call? If you fancy a game night, I’d be more than happy to hand your arse to you in FIFA.”
His attempt at our usual banter almost makes me smile. Almost.
“Actually,” I say, leaning forwards, “I was hoping to pick your brain about something.”
“Oh?”
“Samantha.”
The change is subtle—a shift in his posture, a twitch in his jaw—but it’s there.
“What about her?”
“She still riding your arse about maintenance requests?”
Drew laughs, and this time it sounds genuine. “When isn’t she? Woman’s a bloody nightmare. Always finding something that needs fixed five minutes before my shift ends.”
“Do you remember what you and I were talking about the day I quit?”
“Hmm. Remind me?”
“You asked if I’d ever hook up with another staff member.”
“Did I? Just making conversation, I guess.”
“And specifically, you mentioned Samantha.” I pause. “I should really have asked you the same question, shouldn’t I?”
“Christ, Robbie.” He swallows. “What are you suggesting? That I’m sleeping with Samantha? That’s mad.”
I glance pointedly at the flowers, then back at him. “Is it?”
“Those are just—” He stops himself, and for a moment, the friendly mask slips. I see calculation behind his eyes. Then he sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Fuck’s sake. How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Not for sure anyway, at least not until just now.”
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “Remind me never to play poker with you.”
I shrug, not bothering to hide my satisfaction. “So. You and Samantha.”
Drew scrubs a palm over his jaw. “It just... happened. We were both working late, and... well, it’s not like we planned it.”
“How long?”
“Couple of months. We’ve been keeping it quiet. Your da has that whole thing about workplace relationships.”
I nod, processing this. “And the thefts? What do you know about those?”
His brows knit together in confusion. “Nothing. Wait, why would—” His jaw drops a little. “What are you suggesting?”
“Honestly, Drew? I think Samantha framed me, and I’m trying to figure out if you were in on it or not.”
“What the fuck?” He springs up like he’s been stung. “Christ, Robbie, that’s a serious accusation. You know I wouldn’t do that. And Samantha? She wouldn’t either.”
“Wouldn’t she? She’s never liked me. And as for you... well, that was a nice wee promotion you got. Quite convenient I’m out of the picture, right?”
His face flushes. “Piss off! It’s not like that. I didn’t steal anything, and Samantha’s been at the resort for years! Why would she risk it all now?”
“Money troubles after the divorce? Revenge because I turned her down when she made a pass at me?”
He gapes, momentarily lost for words. “She what ?”
“Happened last year. I wasn’t interested, and she didn’t take it well.”
He sinks back onto the sofa. “She never said anything about that.”
“I bet there’s a lot she hasn’t told you. But you’re right, she’s been at the resort a long time. Which means she knows how everything works. And that puts her in the perfect position to pull off something like this. Have a think. Has she been acting strangely lately? Nervous? Jumpy?”
He hesitates, and I can see him mentally replaying recent interactions. “She has been a bit... fidgety. Snapping at folk more than usual. Barely saying a word otherwise.”
“When did that start?”
“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? That’s around the time of the first theft, I suppose, but that could just be coincidence.”
“Anything else you can think of that’s out of the ordinary for her?”
Drew frowns. “She went into Inverness last Monday. Wouldn’t tell me why—said it was personal. I didn’t push it.”
Hmm. Could a trip to Inverness be relevant somehow?
“What time did she go?”
“Afternoon. Took a half day.” Drew studies me. “You really think she’s behind this, don’t you?”
“I know I didn’t steal those items. Someone set me up, and Samantha had motive, means, and opportunity.”
Drew presses his lips together, staring at a spot on the carpet like it might offer up answers. “I don’t know, Robbie. It’s hard to believe.”
“Harder to believe than me becoming a thief after years of honest work?”
He winces. “Fair point.”
“Look, I’m not asking you to spy on your girlfriend or whatever she is. But keep your eyes open, aye? If you notice anything suspicious—anything at all—let me know.”
He nods slowly. “I can do that. But what if you’re wrong about her?”
“Then no harm done. But what if I’m right?”
This gives him pause. “All right. If I notice anything weird, I’ll message you.”
“Thanks, mate. Anyway, I’ll be off.” I stand and he walks me to the door, where I clap him on the shoulder. “Well, be careful. Because if she did frame me, who knows what else she’s capable of?”
Outside, the evening air has cooled. I settle myself on my motorcycle, my mind racing. Drew seemed genuinely surprised by my accusation against Samantha, so I’m inclined to believe he wasn’t involved. But his revelation about her being on edge? That only makes me even more certain she’s behind this.
I fire up the engine.
Now I just need to figure out how to prove Samantha’s guilt before the police decide they have enough evidence to charge me.