Were they really going to talk about the door?
Then Sawyer laughed. He actually laughed. “I’m just joking. Thought I’d try an icebreaker. Didn’t work. I can see that.”
“Hmm,” Ciaran tried again, keeping his temper in check. He was trying to keep his humanity in check too. “I should apologise. I haven’t exactly been welcoming.”
Sawyer studied him for a long second, and Ciaran felt more scrutinised than he liked.
“So,” Sawyer finally said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? I met your cousin today. Hendrix, is it? Seems like a nice kid. Bit of a wild one.”
“Hm, yes. He is a bit...” Ciaran’s mouth was suddenly dry, given what he was about to say next. Could he ask him for a coffee? Would that be too cliché? Too premature?
Isn’t that what humans did on first dates?
Oh hell, was he asking him on a date?
“Said he’ll be heading back to Hobart soon,” Sawyer added, clearly unaware of Ciaran’s internal turmoil. “Said one of your friends is MIA?”
Oh shit.
“He said that?”
“He’s chatty,” Sawyer said.
He certainly was.
Ciaran was going to kill him.
“He’s not MIA,” Ciaran lied. “He just needed some time. He’ll come home. He always does.”
“So he’s done this before,” Sawyer hedged. “Dylan—is that his name?”
“This was a mistake,” Ciaran mumbled, turning for the door.
“I can help locate him,” Sawyer said.
Ciaran paused with his hand on the door. “We don’t need your help.”
“I have contacts in the Hobart PD?—”
“I said no,” Ciaran barked with more bite than he’d intended. So he softened it with a quiet “Thank you. But there’s no need to concern yourself.”
“Okay, then,” Sawyer said. “I won’t.”
Ciaran stopped and turned to find Sawyer was now standing and leaning against his desk.
Was he just going to give up? Was he not going to pry and push like every other cop he’d known would have?
Sawyer shrugged. “Not my jurisdiction, and if you say Dylan’s not technically a missing person, then there’s not much I can do. I was just offering to put in some calls, that’s all.”
Ciaran paused, mollified and annoyed this interaction wasn’t going to plan.
Then of course that damn cat ran in through the door he was holding open.
“Just great,” Sawyer griped. “You’re letting in all the cold airandthe cat.”
The cat, Salem, walked right up to Sawyer, and, putting his paws on Sawyer’s leg, demanded to be picked up.
Which he did.
