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“Maybe we should call the security company instead?” Mairi said. “We can ask them what to do.”
Agnes groaned. “I can just imagine that conversation— ‘Hello, we have the body of a stranger in our freezer and we’re looking for suggestions on what to do with it.’ Aye, that would go well.”
“It was only an idea.” Mairi frowned at Agnes.
“Whatever,” Agnes said. “I think our best bet is the outlaw. You said he’s huge and there are weapons lying around in his house. He’s obviously used to dangerous situations. I bet he’d know what to do with the body. You need to ask him for help.”
“No.”
Isobel had been delivering groceries to Callum McKay’s house for almost four months, and she’d only seen the man three times. All three times, he’d scared the life out of her. Rage covered him like a shroud. But there was also something about him that made her heart ache. Maybe it was the utter desolation in his eyes, or the fact that the only people she’d seen near him had been from a security company that was hiding in the dark. She’d never
met someone so completely alone. And so brutally raw. He was the embodiment of her own personal weakness—the tortured bad boy, with muscles like Thor. She didn’t have to be massively self-aware to realise that he was the last person she should approach for help. No, for the sake of her sanity, it was best to keep far, far away from the man.
“Honey,” Agnes said, “we don’t have a lot of options here. Either you get help from someone who knows what to do with a body, or you keep the guy frozen in your old chest freezer for the foreseeable future.”
“Aye,” Donna said. “And what if this is just the beginning? What if the boat people dump more bodies? We need a plan. We need advice.”
“Or we need to start our own crematorium business,” Mairi said.
“Think of your kids,” Agnes said. “This is getting worse every month. We’re in way over our heads. We need help. If this guy can help, then great. If not, we’ll try something else.”
Isobel’s heart sank. Agnes was right. They were out of options. Staying away from Callum McKay had become a luxury she couldn’t afford. And it wasn’t as if she wanted to start a relationship with him. No, she just wanted advice on what to do with the dead stranger who’d been dumped on her beach.
“You can do it,” Donna said softly. “We have your back.”
Isobel blinked back tears, as love for her sisters overwhelmed her. She didn’t know how she’d survive without them. She needed to talk to Callum for their sakes. This situation with the mysterious boat was well past the point of being dangerous, and they were getting in deeper every month. No, they weren’t—she was. And she was dragging her sisters down with her.
“Okay, I’ll talk to him.”
“You’ll be okay, honey,” Agnes said.
“Just keep your hands off him,” Mairi said. “Maybe you could call him instead of talking to him face to face.”
That caused Agnes to smack her again. “She isn’t going to jump the man, idiot.”
There was a pause as all three sisters gave her speculative looks. Isobel threw up her hands in disgust. “So I have a type. So what? It’s not like I’m going to throw myself at him and offer to sleep with him in return for his help.”
There was a shuffling of feet as her sisters cast sideward glances at each other.
“Thanks a lot,” Isobel said. “Good to know you have so much faith in me.”
“You tend to get physical without thinking it through,” Donna said gently.
“I only did that once,” Isobel protested. And ended up pregnant and alone at seventeen because of it.
Her sisters stared at her.
“Fine. Twice.” And she had the ex-husband from hell to show for that little slip in self-control.
“If it’s any consolation,” Mairi said, “I’ve totally learned from your mistakes.”
“No. It’s no consolation. Now do you three think you could stop analysing my past mistakes long enough to help me get this body off the beach?” She looked at the sliver of light on the horizon. “Sun’s coming. We need to get him to the garage and into the freezer before the kids wake up.”
“This is going to be gross,” Mairi said. “I’ll need to burn my clothes after this.”
“I might vomit again,” Donna said.
“Get a grip,” Agnes snapped, “and take an arm or a leg each.”
