She grimaces. “Believe so, aye.”
“Maybe it was just someone who looked like them…”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Perhaps.”
We explore every inch of the beach. A path here leads straight to the city centre, so even if it was Islan, and there’s no way to know if it was, there would be no way for us to find her. I call my family, but no one answers. Finally, just as we make it back up to the main house, I get Paisley.
“Where’s Islan?”
She blows out a breath. “Good morning to you, too, brother. Honest to God.”
“Paisley, this is important.”
She sighs. “Of course it is. Everything is always important. What is it, Tate?”
She’s not giving me a direct answer, and I know enough by now to know there’s reason for that.
“Paisley,” I say, in a warning tone.
“Fine, Tate. She spent the night with her date. She’s a legal adult now, you know, and doesn’t have to answer to all of you.”
“She bloody well does when our Clan’s in danger.”
“Tate, we’re always in danger. Bloody always.”
I don’t answer at first, because she’s fucking right. Every day you wake up a Cowen is a day you face danger.
“I need you to track her down, Pais. Can you do that for me? It’s important.”
She pauses before she answers. “Aye. I can.”
“Thank you. Keep me posted.”
We hang up the phone as we make it back to the main McCarthy house. We meet Nolan and Sheena, Keenan’s youngest brother and his wife, as we make it to the house. Fran chats easily with Sheena, and Nolan and I briefly catch up. By the time we head to the main dining room, it’s teeming with people. Staff milling about, filling teacups and mugs, carrying large platters of sizzling sausages, fried eggs, and broiled tomatoes, while others lay baskets of golden scones and thick slabs of soda bread on the table beside crocks of butter.
Fran swallows. “Now this is the way to honeymoon.” She winks, and now that she’s not teetering on the edge of a cliff, I give her that smack to the arse she earned.
“Tate!” she hisses, her cheeks coloring.
“I’ll show you the way to honeymoon,” I whisper in her ear. I live for the smile she gives me.
I sit beside my Clan brothers and Fran pulls out her phone. I can tell by the way her eyebrows knit and she works her lip, and the fact that she doesn’t touch her plate of food, that she’s hard at work on something. I don’t ask her what, giving her time to deal with it herself. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
I’m in the middle of a conversation with Keenan when she jumps to her feet. We all look at her.
“I need to make a few calls,” she says. “I’ll go back to our room for a little privacy, alright?”
I nod. “Of course, lassie. Anything you need from me?”
She shakes her head. “No. Well, not yet, I should say. Soon, absolutely.”
She fairly runs out of the room. I watch her go, thoughtful. I wonder what it is she needs to find out.
I finish my conversation with Keenan, thanking him when he offers to give me anything I need.
I go back upstairs to Fran, and when I find her, she’s got wads of paper strewn all around her like baubles. I stand in the doorway, hands shoved in pockets. She doesn’t even look up when I enter.
“Have you found Islan?”
