I nod, wishing so hard that I could speak. I’m not sure if I agree I’m safe, but I suppose I am for the moment.
Leith glances at his phone. “We need to get going shortly, if we’re to do our errand.” In about twenty minutes, my brother will go to leave work, only to find his keys missing. It’s time.
The wind rages outside, and something crashes to the ground. I jump, and MacGowen pats my shoulder.
“Just the barrels outside. The metal lids fall when the wind kicks up.”
But Tate’s walking down the hall toward the door, peering at the little glass panels on either side. “You sure about that, Father? Are you expecting any visitors?”
“No. Haven’t had a visitor all day.”
I close my eyes to concentrate, listening for clues. There’s a sound of retreating footsteps, running away from the parsonage.
Damn it, someone was here.
Do the others hear what I do? I know sometimes I note details the others don’t.
I text Leith.
I hear someone running away.
But when he lifts his mobile to read the message, it begins to ring.
“You two, go see what you can find,” Leith orders Mac and Tate. “Go quickly.” He presses the button on his phone. “Yes, Mum?”
I follow Tate and Mac, but Leith reaches for my arm and tugs me over. I watch as his face darkens, and his grip on my arm tightens.
“She hasn’t? Mother of God, I wish the lot of you would pay more attention to me. Christ. When was she seen last?”
His brows are drawn together, his face contorted in anger. “Yes, Mum. Relax. We’re right here in town. We’ll find her.”
He shuts off his mobile and turns to me and Father MacGowen, as Tate pushes open the door and comes back inside, something in his fist.
“Paisley’s gone missing.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Leith
We’ve comeinto town to seek revenge, but our plans are thwarted. We can’t fucking go after Dougal now that Paisley’s in danger, though I want to so badly it’s killing me.
“What do you mean?” Mac asks, his typically boyish expression gone.
“That was Mum. Islan got in touch with Fran, Fran admitted she went home last night and hasn’t seen Paisley since. Paisley isn’t answering her mobile, and Mum’s worried.”
“Son of a bitch,” Tate says, then looks abashed. His gaze swings to MacGowen. “Sorry, there, Father.”
“No worries, son, go on.”
“We need to find her,” I tell the others. I shake my head. “It’ll mean forgetting our original plan.”
I hate that we’ll have to do this, but we can’t waste a bloody minute if Paisley’s in danger. I’ll have her fucking head, I will.
“Are you kidding me?” Mac says, enraged. “We came here to —”
I growl at him, stopping him mid-sentence. There’s no fucking need for MacGowen to know why we came here.
He blows out a breath and shakes his head.
