Page 72
Back on the street, Addison’s gaze landed on the pub next door. “My brother wouldn’t go far for a drink.”
The dark-paneled pub opened from a narrow bar in the front to a wide dining area in the back.
A couple tapped their credit card on the reader and slid off their stools, leaving two empty seats. Oliver waited for Addison to sit before taking the barstool next to her.
The bartender hovered at the other end, taking orders and pouring drinks, the shelves behind him stacked with liquor.
Addison turned to Oliver. “This is our last stop of the day. I’m not dragging you from pillar to post on your birthday.”
Oliver settled a reassuring hand on her knee. “We can visit a few more places, and then reassess.”
“No. We can’t run around from bar to bar in the hopes that someone remembers him.”
“You two looking for the American guy?”
The deep rumble came from the bartender now leaning across the bar, ginger hair falling over his broad forehead, watching them with mild curiosity.
Addison swiveled toward him. “You know Kyle Yarrow?”
He lifted one expansive shoulder. “Hardly. But this is the third time someone’s been in looking for him. That kind of thing stands out. What did he do anyway?”
Third time? “He’s my brother. Who else is looking for him?”
“A group of women were in a few days ago. And some fella was in last week. Seemed in a fierce hurry.”
“What did he look like?”
“Average-looking. Dark hair.”
That could describe just about anyone, including Kyle’s friend she’d seen at the hospital. “Did Kyle ever stop in here?”
“Only the once, and he overstayed his welcome. But like I told the others, haven’t seen him since. He had one too many, flirted with the wrong woman, nearly had his teeth knocked in. Never came back.”
Addison’s pulse thudded. “Do you remember the names of the people looking for him?”
The bartender shook his head. “Didn’t ask for names.”
Oliver’s palm settled on her back. “The group of women you mentioned… how many were there?”
“And was one of them heavily pregnant?” Sylvia’s stomach would stand out anywhere.
“Three. Two Americans and a Brit. None of them obviously pregnant. Told them all I know—a few days after he was here, he tried to get into a card game at the members’ club down the road.”
Addison hopped off the barstool. “What’s the club called?”
He told them. “The silver door three doors down that way. Can’t miss it.”
When another customer squeezed into the other end of the bar, the bartender left to see to him.
Oliver took Addison’s hand as they exited the pub and returned to the cobbled street. “Is he a gambler, your brother?”
He’d promised her he’d stopped. “Yes. He’s a gambler.”
Netta. Her heart clenched. How she’d hoped Kyle would have matured by now. He knew what it was like growing up with flaky parents, and yet here he was, giving their own parents a run for their money.
“Your brother won’t have a face when I find him.”
Threading her arm through his, she pressed a little closer. “That’s not you, and we both know it.”
