Cairstina takes her hand and shakes it, then looks down. It must be awkward not being able to finish the most basic of formalities like an introduction, but I’m pleased. Even if she could speak, I wouldn’t want her saying her name in public.
Cairstina’s eyes alight on the books on the table, and she claps her hands in delight. She points to the cover, then wiggles her brows at Fran, who laughs heartily.
“Oh, I’ve heard good things about those books,” she says with a grin. “Can’t say I’ve read them myself. Should I?”
Cairstina nods vehemently, urging her on, and Fran grins. “Excellent. I’ll have to remember that.”
“Did you send the address to Tate?” I’ve no patience for this nonsensical chatter.
“Aye,” she says cheerfully, not at all daunted by my short temper. “And I’ll accompany you, then?”
“This time, aye.” I nod. “You may prove useful.”
She gives me a smarmy look. “Aw, you’re too kind. I love to prove useful.” But she follows us out of the shop, nonetheless.
I put the address into my phone’s GPS. “He lives near the castle ruins,” I mutter, looking at my phone. “Is that right? Is he with his parents?”
“Er, no,” Fran says, looking away. “But yes, that’s the correct address.”
“He lives on hisown?” She takes a step back when I nearly bellow at her.
“Jesus, Leith, I didn’t hook ‘em up. For the love of God,” she mutters. “Aye, that’s his address. He lives in a flat with flatmates.” She clears her throat. “He’s, eh, in college. Or, he was…”
What?
“Was?”
“Think he may’ve graduated…”
We’ll deal with this later. The most important thing right now is finding Paisley.
My phone rings, but I’m disappointed to see it’s only Islan.
“Have you found her?” she asks, and I regret my earlier toughness. I know how deeply she loves Paisley and how concerned she is about her wellbeing.
“Not yet, but we have a lead. I promise you, we’ll find her.”
I shouldn’t have made that promise, I know it as soon as I hang up the phone.
We went searching for Tavish when he went missing. We never brought him home.
I hang up the phone. Fran follows in her own car as we head to the address on the map. Cairstina looks out the window, as we drive in silence.
“And what will you do if you find her there?” Mac asks, scowling. “We try to keep things under the radar, Leith, you know that.”
“Och, aye, I know it,” I tell him. “Won’t bloody well march in and tear her away from her boyfriend, though I’ll be bloody tempted. I just fucking hope she’s even there.”
Mac nods. “Aye. Me, too.”
“Where’s the damn house?” I ask, shaking my head. “GPS says we should be there by now.”
“Christ, it isn’t on the map,” Tate says, shaking his head. “What the hell are we going to do now?”
I wish I could ask Cairstina’s opinion. It’s hard not being able to have a real conversation with her. I wonder what it is she’s thinking, what’s in the mind of hers. You take regular conversation for granted, sometimes, until you want a proper talk, I suppose.
God, the way she looks at me…
The way she melted into me, as if she belonged there, how she fits so perfectly in my arms when I hold her…
