“Of course. My apologies.”
“Look, I appreciate you checking in on me, but if you don’t mind, I’m just packing the rest of my things to take back to Declan’s.”
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he presses as if he’s privy to something he believes me to be aware of.
Call it intuition, but everything about today has got me on high alert for some unsettling reason.
“Yes, everything is just fine,” I say smoothly with a light smile to appease him. “The past couple days have been taxing, as I’m sure you can understand.”
He nods, taking my directive to not mention the file.
“You can report back to your boss that the kid in question is taking good care of herself.”
I smile at my words, and he laughs in return, agreeing, “Will do.”
He turns to leave, but before he shuts the door behind him, he says, “By the way, I’ve tried calling you a couple times . . . ”
“I left my phone here. No one calls me on it, but now that I know I have a babysitter, I’ll be sure to charge it up for you,” I joke.
He shakes his head at me with a smile and then leaves. I go to the door and lock it behind him before returning to my room. Tossing the rest of my things in my suitcase, I take the photo out of the frame and shove it in my bag. I don’t know why she has this picture, but I want it for myself.
When my luggage is loaded into the car, I head back to Brunswickhill after returning the key to the planter. A part of me wants to call Declan to ask why he sent Lachlan to check in on me. He says he hates me, but then I see these hints of the man I knew back in Chicago. The man who was furious if I was more than a minute late. The man who controlled and dominated to ease his worry. But I won’t call him because I never know what it is about me that’s going to trigger him to push me away.
“What the hell?” I murmur under my breath when I round the bend in the road and see the same car that was at Isla’s now sitting outside of Declan’s gate.
Slowing the Mercedes, I stop and wait since the other car is blocking my way. My curiosity is piqued, wondering if Declan is still having me followed, and if so, why they are being so blatant about it.
Growing impatient, I honk my horn, and when I do, the driver’s door opens. I watch a shiny, black loafer step out onto the street, and a thousand penetrating emotions shoot off inside of me.
What the fuck is he doing here?
Nerves wrack me as I fist the steering wheel tightly in my hands. I watch him approach my car, and for a split second, I consider running him over. But truth is, I have no idea why he’s even here.
So without wasting another second, I fall back into the character I know so well and hide myself in Nina’s mask. Righting my spine, I forget all about Elizabeth, and open the door.
“How quickly you move on,” he taunts as I stand before him.
“Nice to see you too, Richard.”
“I doubt you mean that, but thanks anyway.”
“What are you doing here in Scotland?”
“I could ask you the same, but I think it’s pretty clear.”
His words irk me as always, and I bite my response, “Cut the shit, Richard. Tell me why you flew halfway around the world.”
His face flattens in a no-nonsense expression when he states, “We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Your husband.”
As far as I know, Richard knows nothing about the lies and deception. He only knows me as Nina, Bennett’s wife, and now widow. He’s been Bennett’s business partner from the very beginning, and the two of them were close. Not close enough though because I know Richard is clueless to the fact that Bennett fucked his precious little wife and that the baby Richard believes to be his is, in fact, just a pathetic bastard.
“I haven’t been contacted about anything concerning the investigation,” I tell him. “Are there any new developments?”
His eyes narrow, and I don’t trust the hinting grin on his face. “Don’t you think it’s a little hard to be in the loop of information when you’re operating on a cheap, disposable phone?”
My poker face is strong, but my body numbs, wondering how he knows about my untraceable phone. My words deflect my panic as I say, “Always butting your nose in where it never belongs, aren’t you?”
“Like I said, we need to talk.”
“Then talk.”
“Inside,” he states firmly.
“Why not here?”
He grows irritated, fuming loudly, “Because it’s fucking cold and my balls don’t like it.”
He’s so damn disgusting.
I hesitate on taking him inside Declan’s home, but figure it’s safer up there with all the cameras than down here on the street.
“Fine.”
He follows me through the gate and up to the house. As I lead him in and to the library, he remarks, “You don’t ever slum it, do you?”
“Is there a point to the nonsense you spew?” I sit across from him, and when he takes a seat, I say, “So what is it? What is so important that you needed to travel all this way?”
He leans forward and takes a moment before looking over at me, revealing, “I know who you are.”