She furrowed her brow. “Huh?”
“You saidourswhen referring to here, to Leth Sholas.”
My roommate rolled her eyes. “And that’s got you all giddy?”
“Aye, it does.” I nudged her playfully. “Because that means you think of this place as yours.”
She considered this and then shrugged. “I guess I do. Leth Sholas is home now. Or … at least until my work visa runs out.”
“It doesn’t have to run out,” I said. “We’ll make sure you always have a job here. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I hope not.”
We fell silent as I stewed over how we could reassure London. I didn’t want her spending her days worrying about when she’d be forced to leave the island and return to the US.
“Isn’t that the creepy antiques guy?”
London’s question brought my head up. Unease crawled over me at the sight of Edward White standing on our front stoop.
“What the hell does he want?”
48.Taran
My unease at finding Edward White at my front door increased as we drew to a stop beside him. His pale skin looked sweaty and clammy, his eyes bloodshot. There was no mistaking the frenzied nervous energy emanating off him.
“Mr. White, what are you doing here?” I asked as London unlocked the front door.
He smiled tremulously, smoothing back his oily black hair with shaky fingers. “I was on the island to visit Mrs. Gilchrist and thought I’d come here to discuss a certain item I valued last time. However, I’m afraid on my walk over, I began to feel rather unwell. I don’t suppose I could bother you for a cup of tea and something sweet. I think it might be my blood sugar levels.”
The good Samaritan in me couldn’t deny him, even as I felt adrenaline rush through my body like it was going into fight-or-flight mode. Even as he followed me and London into the house, I wanted to turn around in objection and shove him back out.
“May I use your bathroom first?” Mr. White asked. “It’s just off the kitchen, isn’t it?”
“Sure.”
Once he’d disappeared out of sight, I took London’s arm and led her into the living room. “Are you getting vibes?” I whispered.
“I am most definitely getting vibes. Should we call someone?”
“I think I’ll call Mrs. Gilchrist when I’m supposed to be making him tea just to confirm his story.”
“No one is calling anyone.”
We spun at the unfamiliar voice.
A strange man stood next to White in the doorway. He gripped the antiques dealer by the nape. He was an inch or two taller than me with a shaved head and chiseled cheekbones. The man might even have been handsome in a rough kind of way if it wasn’t for the fact that his blue eyes were dead inside. He was also dressed completely inappropriately for autumn on the island in navy joggers, a tracksuit jacket, and trainers.
Dread roiled in my gut, but I stepped half in front of London. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”
The man shoved White into the room and followed him in, effectively blocking our exit.
Edward White was terrified. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m so sorry.”
Suddenly, it was like pieces of a puzzle all slotted together in my brain. “It was you. The break-in, the kidnapping attempt in Oban?”
“Technically, that was me.” The stranger shrugged nonchalantly.
“Why? I don’t even know you.” My gaze flew to White’s as I started piecing everything together. “What item? There’s something of my mother’s that you undervalued, isn’t there?”
