Chapter 15 #3
“Now, Fiona, you must come down and see my wee home,” Nan says. “Cairstina’s planted an herb garden with me, a right good indoor one, and it’s thriving. Come have a look?”
Fiona pushes up from the table. “Would love to,” she says. She takes Islan’s arm. “And you tell me about those books you girls were goin’ on about, eh?”
I roll my eyes at Lachlan. “Scottish fucking mafia romance,” I mutter. “They’re damn near smitten with ‘em.”
He shrugs. “Romance is good for a woman’s soul, mate. Ask me how I know.”
Mum laughs and follows the girls. “I think this is my cue to leave, lads. You can catch up on yer manly gossip for a bit, eh?”
Mac comes in, and catches the bit. “Manly gossip,” he mutters with a pretend pout. “My feelings are hurt.” He claps Lachlan on the shoulder. “Bloody good to see you, mate.”
Lachlan’s a large, strapping bloke. I remember when he was newly inducted in the McCarthy Clan, one of the youngest they ever had.
I'm not sure exactly how old he was but I don't think he’d quite reached his eighteenth birthday.
Keenan McCarthy inducted him early, and he's become one of the most steadfast members of the McCarthy clan.
A foreign liaison to several countries, the most traveled among them, and now that he's settling down with a family of his own, he and Fiona are trying to keep things closer to home. Scotland's about as far as he'll go.
Works for us.
Clyde joins us, and a few of the others, and I watch as one of the staff whispers to another. Ailsa. Her friend takes her leave, grabs a duster, and goes to the other room, while Ailsa comes over to our table with the kettle.
“More tea, sir?” she asks Lachlan.
He covers his cup. “All good, thanks.”
I watch her as I sip my own steaming mug. “Lach, you heard the girls talking about the romance novels they were reading just now.”
“Aye.”
“It’s a bit unsettling, mate.”
“Why’s that?”
I watch Ailsa as we talk. “The stories seem as if they’re drawn out of real life. Like someone's watching us, spying even.”
“Did you read them yourself?” he asks. “Or do you think the girls are just seeing things?”
Ailsa drops something to the ground, and quickly picks it up, but doesn’t leave the room. She grabs a broom and begins to sweep almost frantically. I wonder if she’s the guilty one.
“I’d look into that, Leith, for sure,” Lachlan says. “I know how important anonymity is to you, and how much you risk if even one person comes to know who you are or anything private.”
“Aye, for sure.”
I mean to question Ailsa later. In fact, I’ll question all the staff.
“I did come here for a reason, boys,” Lachlan says. “There are a few things I need to discuss with you.”
I lean back in my chair. “Before you do, has anyone seen Dad today?”
Mac frowns. “I did earlier, but he was doing very poorly. He went back to bed for a bit. Had the shakes, couldn't stop it. Mum went in to look at him and she said that he's doing fine, but needs a bit more rest. Seems that he hasn't been sleeping well overnight.”
“Understood. I’ll check on him later.”
“Me as well,” Tate says.
Lachlan sobers. “So you’ve taken the leadership position full throttle?”
“Aye. Dad isn’t in a position to take it anymore.”
“Doesn’t stop him from having an opinion or two,” Mac mutters, and the rest of us nod in solidarity. Truth is, as the youngest of the sons, he gets more flack from Dad than the rest of us. But I want to change the subject.
“Why did you come, then, Lach?”
Lachlan puts his mug on the table and leans back in his chair. “Tully came to visit the last time he came to Scotland, no?”
I nod. “Aye, he did.” Tully is one of the older men of the McCarthy Clan, and he comes from time to time on an errand from Ballyhock as well.
“On his way home, he stopped by Inverness, wanted to get something at one of the shops for his McKenna. Saw something unusual.”
I sit up straighter, paying attention. Curious what this is.
“You’ve got a row with the Aitkens, don’t you?”
“Row’s a mild way to put it,” I mutter. “They’re the fucking bane of our existence. Rivals to the core.”
“Aye,” Tate mutters. “We fucked ‘em up anonymously recently, wanted them to have to watch their fucking backs.”
“Heard about that,” Lachlan says. “But Tully says he heard one of them talking about your family. Thought they were just talking rubbish to be arseholes, so he didn’t think anything of it until he heard about what happened here recently.”
I feel the skin prickle at the back of my neck, and bile rise in my throat.
“How so?”
Lachlan winces. “I feel like a bloody snitch, but I’d want to know if I were you, given how ruthless the damn Aitkens are.”
“What’d they say?”
“They totally fucking set up Paisley. Pretended there was a bloke interested in her, he was working for the Aitkens.” He goes on to explain how they used Paisley’s supposed “boyfriend” to fuck her up.
I growl, eager to get back into town. “We can pay those boys another visit, can’t we?” I ask Tate and Mac.
“We can bloody go now,” Mac says.
“I’ve got McCarthy men in Inverness on an errand right now, can have them investigate?” Lachlan offers.
“Aye. I’ll give you the address. If those fucking frat boys were a set-up from the Aitkens as payback…”
Lachlan takes out his mobile and makes a call. “Tiernan, can you do our mates a favor, brother?”
We share the information with Tiernan McCarthy, one of the Clan’s most well-known fighters.
“Thanks, Tier.”
Lachlan hangs up his mobile and slides it into his pocket. I watch as Ailsa slides a little notebook into the front pocket of her apron, and scurries out the back door.
What the bloody hell is she up to?
“Be right back,” I tell the others, and I get to my feet to follow her. I enter the living room, but she’s gone. I look right, then left, and she’s bloody nowhere. How did she evaporate like that? She isn’t on the steps, or on the front stoop. She’s fucking gone.
“Tate,” I yell to the kitchen. He comes to the doorway, shaking his head.
“They’re gone, brother. Tiernan says the address we gave him is abandoned, looks like no one’s lived there in ages.”
It seems silly and foolish now to tell them I saw a furtive housekeeper write something down on a notepad. Surely she didn’t mean anything by it.
The back door opens and the girls come in, flushed from the cold. Cairstina’s eyes meet mine across the room. She’s looking at me curiously, her head tipped to the side like she does, but I’m a million miles away.
Something needs to happen, and it’s up to me.