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“Why are we here? Because,” Megan enunciated her words, “we care about Callum and want him to come back to London.”
Rachel shook her head as though mystified, before sitting beside Elle. She crossed her long legs and drummed her red nails on the table. “Where is he, anyway?”
“I don’t know. He disabled the cameras after he spoke to me.” Elle’s fingers flew over her keyboard, but she paused to look out the window. There was still smoke drifting in the distance. “Anybody else notice the burned-out house on the way here? That didn’t have anything to do with Callum, did it?”
“Nope, that was a gas accident,” Megan said. “I made Dimitri stop the car and ask the cops. Faulty gas bottle. Thankfully, the family were away at the time.”
“Is this the wall where Callum had sex?” Ryan called from the hall. “I think we should put up a plaque or something to commemorate it for him.”
“Will that boy ever grow up?” Rachel sneered.
“That boy is the same age as you,” Elle said.
“Yes, but I’m decades older when it comes to maturity,” Rachel said.
Elle couldn’t argue with that. “I have more information on Isobel.”
“Let’s hear it.” Dimitri followed Ryan into the room. “Make coffee while you’re over there, will you, babe?” Dimitri said to Megan.
“Do I look like your servant?” Megan’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m your wife, not your slave. Make your own damn coffee.”
“Baby,” Dimitri crooned. “You make better coffee. And if you do it for me, I’ll do that other thing for you later.”
Megan clapped her hands and beamed at him. “Really?”
“Promise.” Dimitri pressed a hand over his heart solemnly.
“Then you get coffee.” She blew him a kiss before she reached for the coffee pot.
“Before anyone makes the mistake of asking what they’re talking about,” Rachel said, “know that I forbid it.”
“We don’t need to ask.” Ryan’s eyes were on Elle’s laptop. “It’s sex. They’re all about the sex. They don’t think about anything else.”
“Hey,” Megan said. “We’re newlyweds. It’s our right.”
“Yeah, but does it have to happen right under our noses?” Ryan grumbled.
“You’re just jealous,” Megan said.
“As much fun as is it to listen to you bicker like children,” Elle said, “I have news on Isobel. As far as I can tell, she’s clean. No run-ins with the police, no parking tickets, nothing. She does, however, have sucky taste in men. She left school at fifteen because she got pregnant and the boyfriend did a runner on her. She hasn’t heard of him since, which isn’t surprising, since he OD’d in Edinburgh six years ago—heroin. Her second attempt at happy-ever-after ended miserably too, but this time she made it to the altar before she got pregnant. Unfortunately, this guy was worse than the last. He ran out on her as soon as the baby was born.”
“What a dick,” Ryan muttered.
There was general agreement before Elle brought up the rest of the report. “The husband filed for divorce from Glasgow and hasn’t been back to Arness since. But, and this is where it gets really nasty, he didn’t tell the rest of the world that he wasn’t married to Isobel anymore. So when he borrowed money from his friendly neighbourhood loan shark, he made certain the guy knew Isobel was good for repayments. And then, guess what? He suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.”
“Leaving Isobel with the debt,” Megan said in disgust.
“How much are we talking?” Dimitri asked.
“Thirty-four thousand pounds, give or take a few hundred,” Elle said.
“That’s a lot of money for a woman like Isobel,” Rachel said.
“That’s a lot of money for everyone except you, Rachel,” Ryan said.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, no doubt to spew acid all over Ryan, but Elle got in first.
