Then pictures of Tamsin, including one of her as an infant, in the arms of a smiling woman who?—
Hamish brought the album closer to his face, staring. As he paged forward, there were few of the woman, but always with Tamsin, when she was a younger child. Newer pictures of an adolescent and teenage Tamsin were of her alone, none of the woman.
After his third time paging through the album, Hamish spoke up. “Eh, can I ask a stupid question?”
Peyton looked up. “Sure.”
“Why are there no pictures of Hyacinth in here with Tamsin? Not a single one? And other than this chap I assume is Ben, there aren’t any pictures of his sons, either.”
Trevor and Peyton, as well as some of the other men, exchanged confused looks.
“There…are?” Peyton finally said, sounding as confused as Hamish felt. “There are pictures of Hyacinth in there.” He stood and walked over to look at the album. “Right there.” He pointed to the one of newborn Tamsin. “That’s Hyacinth.”
Hamish sucked in a breath. “You’re certain that’s Hyacinth?”
Trevor stood and walked over, looking over their shoulders. “Yes. That’s her holding Tamsin. What’s wrong?”
“There’s a problem,” Hamish said. “A wee and confusin’ one.”
“What problem?” Peyton asked.
Hamish pointed at the photo. “That’s not Hyacinth Lewis. Leastways, not the woman I knew as Hyacinth Lewis.” He paged through the pictures again. “When I knew the woman in these pictures, she was younger and went by Frannie. I’m ashamed to admit I don’t remember her last name. She was secretly Donnel’s paramour and publicly Faegan and Hyacinth’s maid, as well as a damned good cook. Part of our pack. When I knew her, she was probably no older than thirty, if that.”
Peyton and Trevor stared at him in shock. “What?” they asked in unison.
Hamish closed the album. “This woman may very well be Tamsin’s mum, but she absolutely, positively is not my sister-in-law Hyacinth Lewis.”
Peyton groaned. “Oh, fuuuuck me!”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Ken
Not only was Hyacinth not Hyacinth, but the men Trevor and Peyton identified to Hamish as Faegan’s sons were also apparently…not.
Not ones Hamish knew, anyway.
Of course Ken had heard the term “kicking an anthill” used metaphorically, but had never seen it actually materialize in human form.
Eh, shifter form?
Non-ant form.
Regardless, over the next few minutes, Trevor placed frantic phone calls and ordered the helo to return immediately while Peyton alerted the men at the safe house to prepare for their arrival because they were coming in hot. All Ken knew about the safe house was that it lay less than an hour from their current location by helo.
Peyton, Trevor, and two of Trevor’s men departed, taking the photo album with them, while Hamish, Ken, and Jake stayed behind with the remainder of Trevor’s men to continue the search. Peyton ordered them to say nothing about this development to anyone until they talked to Hyacinth-Frannie and figured out, oh, what in the actual fuckety fuck was going on, as Dewi might say.
Jake snorted. “Just when I think this shit can’t get weirder, it does.”
“Tell me about it,” Ken snarked. “And, sad to say, I think it’ll get even weirder before we finally make it through to the other side and life settles down.”
If life settles down, he silently added.
“Frankly, I’m glad they left me behind,” Hamish wearily said as he plowed through one of the newer boxes. “I’m not certain I could have restrained myself from strangling that woman.”
Since the latest development forcibly upended everything they’d believed, they’d all agreed Hamish should remain behind with Ken and Jake to continue the search in case he spotted additional inconsistencies the others missed. It was painfully obvious they had no idea what they didn’t know.
Another hour into it, Hamish sighed in disgust and turned to one of Trevor’s men who was helping with the paperwork search. “I don’t suppose there’s any liquor here, is there?”
