Hmmm . . . Bertha’s MO is a muumuu, rain or shine. She’s suffering from hot flashes.
I regard the first one, who’s running a heavy hand on the back of his neck. “You saw her face?”
“No.”
“Did anyone see Bertha’s face? After she changed clothes.”
A few heads dip, eyes flickering away.
“Safe to assume nobody saw it,” I ponder aloud, “it’s raining. We won’t hold it against any of you. How did she leave?”
“Taxi.”
Kieran’s hard body presses into my side as he whispers into my ear, “We’re running out of time. And who areyouto tell them I won’t hold each of them accountable.”
I run my hand over his jaw. “You won’t hold it against them because Kiera’s clever. She’s, also, accompanying Bertha.”
“How?”
“Your sister’s extremely convincing.”
He pulls out his cellphone and makes the call. Relief floods through his face, and there’s nothing in the world I want more than to be there for him.
I stare up at the alluring animal who, for the very first time, has a look of fear in his eye. My heart melts for him.
“Bertha dropped Kiera off at the inn,” Kieran says. “She’d no idea that Pearla and Benson had already left.”
Hoping this was all a stunt for attention, I shove my mouth into a small smile. “Okay, let’s get to the inn.”
His eyebrows dip. Apparently, he’s about to request a babysitter for me, which I won’t remind him is the reason we’re in this mess—his need to control.
Squaring my shoulders, I take the initiative. “No going off halfcocked, Kier. Assuming you have more enemies in town, they might get wind of Kiera’s disappearance. For the moment, not many people are aware of Kiera’s identity. . . So, I should be the one to enter the inn and ask for her. Right?”
* * *
The day grows even more turbulent when we arrive at the inn. After I proved myself resourceful, Kieran still firmly tells me to wait outside.
Rain pelts the windowsill, leaving tiny streams of tears. I wrap my arms around my stomach and sit impatiently.
Less than five minutes later, a shot rings out. Kieran strolls out of the one-story building. He tucks the gun into the back of his windbreaker, his strides lengthy. He pulls the breaker off. His hair, which I still have no idea why he cut when we first met, runs slick against his cheeks.
I climb out of the car and snap, “What did you do?”
“Get inside. If I see you coughing, I’ll send you straight to the house, lassie.”
His eyes flicker over to one of the convoys. He’d dispatched a team of men to the woods, two to stay at the house, and another few SUVs to follow us at a distance. I’d say the barbarian’s got a true knack for being a bad guy.
“I thought we were being discreet?”
“We are.” Kieran cocks his head to the passenger side.
I slide inside. A few seconds later, the driver's door shuts. Kieran’s knuckles bleed white beneath his taut skin as he holds onto the steering wheel.
“You killed him?”
“Had too. I asked the lad about the sighting of alassie.The wheels in his brain get to work. He calls a friend in this wee town, and then they call a friend. I’m not saying he was a bad lad, but—”
Indignant, I cut him off, “Will the same outcome occur every time we stop?”