My mind goes into brainstorm mode on the best way to connect with this woman. Sometimes it’s like hiding in plain sight. The most obvious is the most oblivious. I’ll just knock on her door.
A beautiful blond in a silky night robe answers.
“Hello. I’m so sorry to bother you but I’m trying to find the Croft residence.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know them but I haven’t lived in this neighborhood for long.” She points to the cottage to her left. “Maybe you want to check with the Mrs. Darrow next door. She knows everyone in this area—along with their personal business.”
Sounds as though Mrs. Darrow may be a busybody who likes to gossip? “Thank you. I’ll do that.”
I make a beeline to the neighbor’s home, an exact replica of the nearby cottage. “Hello. I was just next door but it seems your neighbor isn’t home. I’m trying to find out who owns the property.”
“And why would ye be wanting to know that?”
“I’m sorry. I should have explained myself. I was told the house would be going on the market but I don’t see a sign with contact information. I’m hoping to make an offer before anyone else shows interest so I might secure it at a better price.”
“Are ye married?”
“Aye.” I quickly use my thumb to flip my huge diamond around so it’s facing inside. I flash my left hand. “Happily.”
“Children?”
“No.”
“Good. I’d like to get someone quiet in here to take her place. Her name is Cameron Ewart. I have her number if you’d like it.”
“Yes. That would be wonderful.”
She opens her door wider. “Come in, lass.”
“You’d likely do better reaching her at night. The lazy bag of bones stays up all night and sleeps all day. Worthless.”
I follow her into her kitchen. She takes out a notepad from a drawer and scribbles her neighbor’s name. She finds a second notepad and copies over her contact.
“I’m Mrs. Darrow, by the way.”
“I’m Joanna Glenn. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
And that’s how it begins. The unraveling of a detailed story about Cameron Ewart follows. I learn far more than I dared hope about the woman Abram came to visit.
At first glance, none of it appears to help my case but there’s room for deeper investigating.
Sin won’t like it. He’s not yet in a place where he’s able to see Abram for the monster he is. That’ll come. With proof.
I have a plan but I’ll need help. I can’t depend on Sin for that. But Isobel is a different story. She hates Abram as much as I do.
I won’t be finding a taxi for a lift home in this village. I take my phone from my purse. “I need to see you—without Thane. And I could use a ride.”
* * *
Isobel has made tea. I smell it the minute I step inside her house. Mint—my favorite.
“Come. We’ll take tea in the sitting room.”
The sitting room is an indulgent space, clearly a woman’s territory. Lavish rug. Exquisite furnishings. Delicate, feminine accent pieces. Isobel’s style is understated classy. Unlike Abram and Torri’s ostentatious home.
She places a cup and saucer on the cocktail table. I already know she has prepared it to my liking. She’s thoughtful that way.
“Thank you.” I wrap my cold hands around the warm cup and sip. It feels good on my throat.
She already knows I’m here about Abram. I told her that much over the phone. “I assume ye’ve discovered something good since ye wanted tae see me without Thane?”
I’m not sure what my findings could lead to but my instincts tell me I’m on to something. “I followed him today.”
The corners of her mouth turn up, her expression telling me she approves of my actions—unlike Sin. I’m certain he’d be very angry with me. “And?”
“He went to a house in East Lothian and had sex with a woman. I don’t think she’s Fellowship.”
Isobel sputters tea. “I’m not sure I want tae ask how ye know this.”
“It’s possible I may have picked the lock and entered the house through the back door.” I shrug. “Maybe.”
She no longer approves. I know by the way she’s looking at me. It’s the same expression Harry used to give me. I think it can only be mastered by a parent. “That was a risky thing tae do.”
Isobel is worried for my safety. I love her dearly for that. “I was in and out in a snap.”
“I understand the extent of training ye’ve had in this type of thing, but it doesn’t stop me from being concerned for ye. Especially when Abram is involved. He’s dangerous.”
“I know.” I trust Isobel. I can confide in her. “I’ve added him to my list of suspects.”
“What’s led ye tae that conclusion?”
I explain why Abram has popped onto my radar. “Sin says I can’t accuse Abram without concrete proof but I think I may know how to get it. This woman is having sex with him. She’ll know if he has a scar on his leg.”
“How do ye plan on getting her tae tell ye this?”
“Asking won’t work.” This is where the plan gets a little hairy. “So I’ll do it by force. At gunpoint.”
“Oh, Bleu. I don’t know about that.”
“I’ve had a gun pointed at my head before.” I’ve not yet forgotten the way it felt when Sin held that pistol to my jaw and threatened to blow my brains out. “It greatly improves your motivation to talk.”
“When would ye do this?” she asks.
“I was thinking the best time would be when Sin’s called away in the middle of the night on Fellowship business. It happens at least once a week. He’ll be gone until morning. I could slip out and be back before he comes home.”
“Are ye sure ye want tae do this behind Sin’s back?”
I wish I didn’t have to. “He doesn’t support me where this is concerned.”
“The girl will tell Abram it was an American.”
“I’ve been practicing my accent.” It’s not great but it’s better than Ellison’s.
I spout off a few lines in my best impression. Isobel’s expression becomes pained. “Oh dear.”
“That bad?”
“Aye. It’s fairly awful.”
I thought I sounded decent. “I can keep practicing.”