The Devil Among Us Ramsay Sinclair (librera reader .TXT) 📖

the term ‘guv’ without sounding as frosty as the ice on my neck. “Everyone else is still having fun.”

It was true. Since the band had struck up again to cover the hectic aftermath of the brawl, people were dancing. Minus the CID team, who were still staring at us in genuine concern.

“We’ll want to put some antiseptic on that cut before it gets worse,” Abbey derived, seeing the stains we’d left all over the pristine cloth. Concern was etched all over her delicate features.

“Thanks,” I hissed when she dabbed twice without warning. “But we don’t have any.”

“We do,” Iona suggested, as though it made perfect sense. “We have some at our home. It’s not too far away, only a short walk down the road. No car, I'm afraid because we knew we’d been drinking.”

The injuries sustained weren’t even that bad, but getting an invitation into their home was an offer that couldn’t be refused. All of DCI Reid’s personal belongings were there, and if I were to hide anything dodgy, it would be at home. If we could distract them, I’d get a chance to do some rummaging.

“But this is your event,” Abbey hesitantly acted as though we couldn’t possibly infringe ourselves on them. She was smart, and it went without saying that we couldn’t lose this opportunity.

Luckily, Iona was one giving lady.

“Nonsense, we’re older than you and our social life isn’t as hectic as it used to be. I can’t keep up with these youngsters, no matter how hard I try.” She waved the worries away. “The donations have been collected, and that’s what tonight was all for, anyway. Wasn’t it love?” She nudged DCI Reid, and he awoke from a daze I presumed he slipped into whenever Iona slipped into a lengthy bout of waffling.

DCI Reid didn’t have a clue what we were discussing, standing upright in a lofty position. “Uh, sure?” he agreed, anyway.

“The event was for everyone. It’s as much ours as it was yours.” Iona’s huge lips smiled kindly. “We can’t have you sitting here and bleeding on clothes and tea towels all night long, could we? It would be wrong to treat my husbands favourite unjustly,” she whispered secretively. It came out patronizing without meaning too, for Iona was heartfelt.

“She’s right. You’re too integral to the team to show up with cuts all over your face. It isn’t good for our image,” DCI Reid said with the ghost of a glimmer on his aged skin. “We’ll get you fixed up and carry on the party at our home. Iona loves to host.”

“It’s true. I have a mean buffet setup,” she offered joyfully, perking up at the very idea.

Abbey’s updo was now dishevelled from the tussle, and it didn’t seem like she was keen to stay for much longer anyway, even if we weren’t given the choice to leave now. “Then how could we say no?”

“Atta girl! Plus, we’ve still got that conversation from earlier to finish,” Iona beamed and took DCI Reid’s arm. “We can all walk together and that's a deal. Our services for the company.”

I handed the ruined cloth to the bartender who sneered at the bloodied material and proceeded to chuck it straight into the overflowing bin.

“Thank you for the help,” I insincerely pledged my gratitude.

“That’s what we do,” DCI Reid said. “As Iona told you, we owe you for taking care of that drunk constable. He could’ve ruined the evening if you weren’t there to take the punches.”

Usually, that joke wouldn’t have been lost on me. Now, it only riled me up to make him pay for the deceit. They waited patiently as I stood up properly, slightly winded and a little bruised.

“Are you okay?” Abbey murmured, and I somehow knew she wasn’t talking about the injuries.

“I will be when justice is served properly.”

“Thank you, by the way,” she added normally. “I know you only got involved with that officer because he pushed me. But the cuts do make you look handsome somehow.”

“Glad to hear it. Does that mean I’m your hero?” I asked as we headed for the exit, being stopped every now and again by officers bidding us farewell. Even Cillian was polite enough to wish us a good evening.

“Hero may be a bit strong.”

I grinned wryly. “Stop fussing. I can do it,” I insisted and took the new tissue she’d found away from her grasp.

“You’re lucky it isn’t broken.” She willingly let me take over.

“He is extremely lucky,” DCI Reid overheard having gotten fed up with too many repetitive farewells. “Other people wouldn’t be so fortunate, but you’re showing me up in front of my wife. She’ll be asking why it wasn’t me taking the punches.”

“That wasn’t my intention, Sir,” I grimaced.

“Bloody constables and their fists,” he continued and accompanied us out of the hall. Since we’d arrived, the sky had changed to a cover of midnight blue and most of the fog had moved on. Twinkling clusters of stars hung still above our heads.

Outside, the cold wind was a refreshing change from the stuffy hall and Abbey had to hold her red dress down to stop it from flying up. Iona didn’t endure the same struggle, for hers was almost skintight. DCI Reid sighed in relief and pulled the bow tie off.

“I’ve wanted to do that for hours. Can’t stand the thing,” he complained. Abbey had been pulled ahead down the path by an eager Iona, who was gossiping about a multitude of things already. “Women, eh? They don’t understand us.”

“I think it could be the other way around, Guv.”

“I think you’re probably right,” he acknowledged. The sounds of the water could be heard from here, short crashing waves slapping hard against the jagged rocks. A few, sparse cars whizzed by along the otherwise empty roads.

“Cards, Cooper,” DCI Reid suddenly spoke loudly, capturing my curiosity.

“Cards?” I repeated and my forehead lined from interest, wondering if I’d misheard him.

“Yes, cards,” DCI Reid repeated. “Cigarette?” He extended a pack towards me, sneakily watching out that his wife didn’t