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

over a year. We haven’t really thought or spoken properly about it yet.” Abbey blushed profusely, gripping the hem of her party dress tightly.

Aye, so we were on the same page then. Thank God.

“But you’d like to, wouldn’t you, Finlay?” Iona pressed again, making me wish the couch could open up and swallow me whole.

Heating up from their burning stares, I hope it didn’t show how out of sorts their query had me. Flustered and sweating, I tried to be kind.

“I haven’t ever thought about marriage,” I said softly, for the question took me by surprise. Few rarely did, and I wasn’t sure how to wriggle out of this one. “My parents' marriage wasn’t exactly an example of what love and compassion was based on. Marriage for them was a hindrance to their relationship, that’s when it all started going downhill. If you two were my parents and were married from birth onwards, maybe I would’ve thought differently towards the entire thing.” I downed the last of my brandy.

Iona was crestfallen, and Abbey sorrowed by the story she’d never heard before.

“Do you have a bathroom?” I asked, hoping to escape the awkward situation for a few seconds. I much needed to regain some sort of composure, for I didn’t want to upset Abbey by my own confession on unity.

“Of course. Upstairs, and it’s the second door to the left.” Iona blinked sorrowfully towards me, ashamed of getting involved in our business.

“That’s what happens when you're being nosey, you dozy cow,” DCI Reid said knowingly with an air of gentleness towards his wife. They didn’t really argue, they only appeared to bicker.

“Are you going to be alright?” I whispered to my doting girlfriend, and Abbey didn’t hesitate to nod. I didn’t exactly want to leave her trapped in the lion's den alone.

“I’ll be just fine,” she nodded sympathetically. “Will you--?”

“Yeah,” I gave a nod that would imitate an enthusiastic one, for I had clearly been caught off-guard and knocked out of the stride we were getting into with regard to the prying into couples life. The tables had turned, and I’d been left answering their questions instead. The issue was entirely mine, and mine alone. Marriage had always been the one subject that truly frightened me.

If downstairs of DCI Reid’s was posh, then upstairs was practically exquisite. Their mirrored hallway reflected a beaten, weary man which it took a while to recognise that was me. Stopping to examine the damage to my face, I saw that my neck had a shadow of bruising mixed in with shades of green and black. My once pale Scottish flesh had converted into streaky tones; ones that were grape like in texture. It was undeniably grotesque, and I was surprised the drunken constable had managed a coherent swing without falling over.

Despite Iona explaining where the bathroom was, the corridor was too grand to distinguish one wooden door from another. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out where it was.

“Where is the damned thing?” I complained underneath my breath and ended up opening a bunch of random doors in search of the toilet. I found a poky airing cupboard full of fluffy towels and mistakenly opened the entrance to their grand bedroom.

No expense was spared in there either, for ivory chandeliers hung full of grandeur and fur throws decorated their king-sized bed. There were even more mirrors hung up in there too, a clear favourite of the middle-aged couple. Another detail caught my eye, that sparkled like a display in an expensive shop. They had a clear acrylic cabinet that showcased flashy jewels on prosthetic necks and rings on fake display hands.

I stepped forward in awe, lost in all sense. I had access to DCI Reid’s most private collections and Iona’s investments in flashy jewellery. Was this DCI Reid’s reasoning for getting involved in the drugs, to pay for their expensive tastes? That’s if I could trust that the jewellery themselves weren’t stolen.

My hushed footsteps padded along their bedroom carpet, within arms reach of their stunning collection. My breath fogged up the glass in misty curls. Diamonds, surely real, and pearls aplenty. Had they raided a pirate ship sometime during their early years? A cluster laid bare inside an elaborate setting, one of the many stones Iona loved to wear on her neck. Was it simply a status of their apparent wealth or did they simply love the grandeur?

I couldn’t peel myself away from their extraordinary jewels until a phone beeped from their bedside table. The light illuminated their room once. Then twice again. It sounded urgent. My crippling paranoia and distrust I now had for DCI Reid made me imagine they were some kind of twisted text messages between their bent organisation, discussing their plans for Ryan Shaw, or even McCall.

I was itching to see, to catch them in the act. To nail them instantly with evidence none of them could dispute. Texts could lead us straight to the phoney decorators and--

“See something you like, Cooper?” DCI Reid’s stern voice knocked me out of my haze, forcefully capturing my full notice.

“I, uh.” I couldn’t come up with a sensible excuse to cover up the obvious fact that I’d been snooping. “Trying to find the bathroom.”

“So long as you didn’t think about taking a piss in here, Cooper. Iona would go crazy.” He leaned against the doorframe, towering tall with his spine erect and shoulders rolled back. It was purposely intimidating. “What were you really doing, Cooper? You can’t fool me.”

“Admiring the collection, sir. I opened it thinking this was the bathroom.” I pointed at the pearls, trying to shift the heat from myself.

“So you just invited yourself in?” DCI Reid frowned, reminiscent of a father lecturing their child.

“I… Yes, Sir.” We shared a frosty exchange before he broke into a wide beam. I didn’t know whether to be wary or relieved.

“You’d be a lousy detective if you didn’t have a good nose around every now and again,” DCI Reid expressed and sprung up