The words echoed off the walls and Hamish blinked rapidly. In confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know it was you who killed the sheep, killed the chickens. And I know it was you who had someone following Allegra in Inverness yesterday. That is the last mistake you’ll ever make.”
Whatever Hamish saw in my face sobered him quickly. “No, no, lad, I didn’t come after your missus. No way. I’m not that stupid. I know who she is. Even if I’m not feart o’ you, I know whoherfamily is.”
No.
I ignored what seemed like Hamish’s genuine confusion and fear because I knew in my gut he’d been messing with the farm. No matter what he’d told the police.
I slammed him again and pain tightened his features, seconds before he turned chalk. “Oh, I’m gonna be sick.”
“You fucked with my farm and came after my wife! Admit it!”
When he said nothing, I pulled the Swiss Army knife I carried with me for work out of my pocket.
Hamish stopped whimpering and locked eyes on it as I brought the blade up to his face. “You wouldnae,” he whispered.
“You know what I’m capable of, Hamish. You know who I was before I moved to Ardnoch.”
He swallowed hard.
“And I might have stuck to the legal route if you hadn’t come after my wife.” I pressed the tip of the knife against his throat. Hamish stretched away from it.
And I hoped like hell my bluff would work.
“Fine, fine.” Hamish nodded frantically. “It was me. The farm. I killed the first ewe and had someone else do the chickens and the other ewe while I was away. It was me!” Spittle flew out of his mouth. “But I didn’t do anything to your missus. I promise! I promise. It wasn’t me!”
Fuck. I’d expected to have to hurt him worse than that to get a confession. He really was an utter coward.
Releasing the pressure on the knife, I watched the small prick on his neck open up, blood trickling down. I felt no remorse. Eyes on Hamish, I watched his relief as I pressed the knife back into its slot and slid it into my pocket.
“I believe you.”
Hamish watched me retreat in disbelief. “That’s it?”
“I got what I came for.” Disgust washed through me again as I looked him over. “Genetics are interesting, aren’t they?”
“What?” He touched the wound on his neck, his pallor paling further as he saw the blood on his fingers.
“You are nothing like your parents. Either of them. Physically, aye, but personality? It was like you skipped out on all their genes in that respect. You shame the McCulloch name.”
Hamish sneered, braver now I no longer had a knife to his throat. “You sound like my fucking father.”
“He was a hundred times the man you’ll ever be,” I reminded him, my tone lethal.
“Aye? What do you think he’d think of this?” Hamish gestured between us. “Maybe you’re more like me than you think.”
I used to worry that I was. But now, I realized I’d just been playing a part as a boy to survive. That ability had come in useful tonight. I’d shrugged on that part as easily as I had shed it almost a decade ago.
Huffing in amusement, I lifted the hem of my long-sleeved tee, revealing the mic pack Walker had procured for me. “I am nothing like you.”
Hamish vomited and I stepped back until I reached the door.
It was barely open when he whined, “Scum! You wee grass. You piece of shite!”
“Nah.” I flicked him one last look. “The only shite here is you, Hamish. And you’re about to get flushed.”
Sleep was hard to come by, especially on the hard mattress of the cheap hotel I’d booked a night in. Finally giving up on sleep at three in the morning, I’d gotten in the car. I stopped at the halfway point for breakfast and chatted with Allegra on the phone, explaining what had happened. But I was desperate to see her in person. Because now neither of us knew who had followed her that day.
