“Get out.” Becca leaned over and pulled the handle to open the passenger door.
“Afraid not.” Margarete slammed the door shut again. “Ian told me he couldnae come home until he’s helped you.” Margarete lifted her hands as if that would explain everything.
“I didn’t ask for his help.”
“That’s a funny thing about Highlanders,” Margarete said, flipping the visor down to see the mirror. She flipped it closed and glanced Becca’s way. “They donae follow orders verra well. So I’m here to get things situated for you both.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Becca tossed the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. She hit the gas, squealing her tires as she sped up the road and farther from her house.
Margarete wasn’t as graceful as she first appeared. Her hand automatically went to the oh-shit handle above the door before she grabbed the seatbelt and slipped it on.
Becca glanced in the rearview mirror to find Ian standing in the street with his hands on his hips. “I thought when Ian talked to you last night that you were in Scotland. How did you get to the States so fast?”
“I’d already arrived to bring Ian home. You Americans need driving lessons.”
“And you Scots should keep your nose out of my business.”
“He’s going to have his hands full with you.” Margarete laughed.
“Seriously, lady.” Becca slowed to take the corner and glanced at Ian’s sister. “I’m going somewhere that might be dangerous. I can pull over and let you out.”
“Now, Quinn would have locked the doors and driven me right into the thick of it.”
“I’m sure it had nothing to do with how…hospitable you were when Quinn first arrived to Scotland. Hospitable isn’t the right word. You were more like an animal marking her territory?” Becca’s words were covered in honey.
“Ah yes, she told you.” Margarete cleared her throat. “Collin’s and my family go way back.”
“To the emerald.” Becca winked. “I know.”
“It was always assumed he’d be the one to marry me, and when your sister showed up, it changed…everything.”
I was free to make my own choices.
Becca hadn’t been meaning to listen in to the woman’s thoughts. It just kind of happened. Had Margarete been wanting to marry Collin out of some sort of family honor? Huh.
“I could drop you at Quinn’s house and let you explain,” Becca said with a little laughter in her voice. “Although herhormones are still in a tizzy from the baby.”
Margarete shook her head. “I’m no’ here to make peace with Collin or Quinn. I’m here to talk some sense into you. Either marry Ian or let him go.”
“Okay.” Becca leaned back in her seat. “I’ll let him go. When you tell me how to cut the cord, I’ve got the sharp scissors waiting and ready. God knows I’ve tried.”
“Hmm.” She glanced at Becca. “I was told you were the sweet one out of the bunch. He’s had his eye on you since he’s arrived.”
“Someone lied to you,” Becca said, turning down several more roads. She pulled Ian’s phone out of her pocket and flipped it open when she got to the right street to check the address.
She slowed as she spotted the green door and checked the address against the one in the phone. She parked the car and slipped her gun out of the glovebox.
Margarete held up her hands. “Why do you need that?”
“It’s dangerous. I told you,” she said, opening her door. “Stay here and you’ll be fine. Just lock the door behind me.” She tossed Ian’s phone to her after climbing out. “Call 911 if anything should happen. Ask for Detective Danny Thompson. Tell him that Becca found the next victim.”
“Wait—”
Becca cut off her protest, slamming the door. She glanced both ways while slipping the gun into the waistband of her jeans and jogging across the street.
She jogged up the stairs to the townhouse and rang the doorbell. A shiver skirted down her spine. She could feel a pair of eyes on her, watching her. She’d slowly turned on the spot, glancing up and down the street, when the door opened behind her.
“Yes?” the same woman with red hair from Becca’s dream asked.
