Mitsy soon-to-be Fredrickson angrily slammed the door and stood to straighten out her shirt and pull up her pants before making her way to the front door of the small roadside inn. Her connecting flight out of Chicago had been delayed a whopping six hours, cutting the time that she could spend searching for Bri in Scotland short by almost an entire day.
Not to mention the time it had taken her to rent a car and find a decent map, none of which seemed to show the location of the inn. Hours later, frustrated, tired, and worried as hell, Mitsy found herself standing in front of the last place Bri had supposedly been seen.
She hoped Bri was safe, but part of her knew that if she walked into that inn to find Bri lounging around as if on vacation, she was going to kill her AWOL maid of honor on the spot. Determined to find an answer, she rapped her knuckles against the wooden door, knocking with as much authority as she could muster.
The door swung open quickly and, with her hands still rapidly moving in a knocking motion, she nearly knocked on the old man’s head who now stood before her, smiling. “Come in, lass. Why do ye seem to be in such a hurry? We’ve plenty of rooms if ye are looking for a place to stay.”
Mitsy stepped inside, her angry resolve slipping slightly at the friendliness in the man’s eyes. Surely he couldn’t be responsible for anything that happened to Bri. Stopping just inside the doorway, she spoke, “I’m not looking for a room. I’m looking for a person that was supposedly staying here. Brielle Montgomery. She’s been missing for some time now, and the police have closed the investigation because they spoke to you and your wife, and you told them that she was fine. She can’t be fine. She wouldn’t just leave without giving me an explanation. Where is she?”
Mitsy watched as the man’s brows creased together, as if he was unsure of how to answer, and she immediately grew suspicious.
“Why doona ye follow me into the kitchen, lass, and we can talk about yer friend.”
Mitsy lightly stomped her foot against the ground in an effort to root herself firmly in place. “I don’t think so, sir. I think you need to tell me whatever it is you know about Bri right this instant.”
“Gwendolyn, can ye come in here, sweetheart? We have a visitor who is looking for Bri.” The man paused and, while waiting for his wife to arrive extended a hand in Mitsy’s direction, said, “My name is Jerry. And ye might be?”
Mitsy didn’t accept his hand, only curtly giving her name before his wife rounded the corner from the kitchen and came to stand in front of her. “I’m Mitsy. Now, your wife is here. Tell me where Bri is.”
Mitsy watched hesitantly as Gwendolyn approached her, smiling.
“I’m afraid she’s not here. She moved to Edinburgh only a few weeks ago. She’s working as a maid in a hotel, I believe. If ye like, I can give ye directions to the place.”
Shock coursed through her as she took in the old woman’s words. Hotel maid? Moved? Why would Bri suddenly decide to drastically change her life? It didn’t make sense. Her voice was shaky when she tried to speak. “Y-Yes. Please. I would appreciate directions.”
Holding the small pad in which Gwendolyn had written direction to where Bri was supposedly located, Mitsy turned and made her way back to the car. She didn’t care that she was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open and so hungry that the sheep in the fields looked appetizing, she was going to find Bri tonight.
*
“Why did ye tell the lass that Bri was in Edinburgh? Doona ye remember that it is Blaire living there?” Jerry looked at his wife with concern only to be rewarded with a soft smack on his arm.
“O’course I know ’tis Blaire. Doona ye worry about it, dear. The real Bri is on her way to us as we speak. Once she gets here, we will send her in the same direction as Mitsy.
Chapter 7
I glanced out of the corner of my eye, watching Mik as he gathered his coat and made his way to the door. Nearing half past ten, we were supposed to remain open until midnight. I had every intention of closing down the pub as soon Mik left.
He paused at the door and turned to me. “Are ye sure that ye doona mind closing alone, Blaire? I know that it was yer turn to leave early, only some of my friends are throwing a party and…”
I held a hand up to stop him. “Aye, ’tis fine. I doona mind.”
He smiled and opened the front door, sending a blast of frigid air through the room. He paused before walking out and turned his head back in me direction.
“Ye are welcome to stop by after if ye’d like.”