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

with a pep in his step. The alcohol was probably to thank for his mixture of emotions. He stared poignantly at the shimmering jewels, a strange expression on his face that I couldn’t figure out. “They’re captivating, aren't they?”

“You can say that again.” The stones were unbelievable.

DCI Reid licked his lips, gearing up to tell yet another story. “These were Iona’s mothers. That one,” he touched the glass and showed me a sapphire set of earrings, “was an engagement gift from Iona’s father. The opals were the set she also wore on her wedding day. They had a hell of a lot of jewellery floating around.”

“Why? How, even?” my inquisitive self asked.

DCI Reid shifted his body weight. Our reflection shone on the glass as two polar opposites. I was thinner and lankier, he was stout and rounded. “Iona’s father owned an oil company.”

I whistled.

“You’ve got it. They were stinking rich but always made sure to instill good life lessons into Iona. She still had to work hard. I respect them for that, otherwise, we’d never have met.” Of course. They’d found each other at the restaurant. “Apart from that, they hated me. Thought I was taking their daughter away. I suppose I did. I was a selfish young man and wanted nothing but her.”

If I wasn’t enraged at the recording we’d seen DCI Reid take a critical part in and seen the fear in Ryan’s eyes, I may have cared more for his tale.

“What happened?”

DCI Reid chuckled, but not happily. “We moved a few times. I couldn’t find a steady job until the police department. I wanted to prove I could provide for us as a small family.”

“And you got married,” I urged him to spill his secrets.

“Unfortunately for her.”

Seeing the wrinkled man with skin that looked tougher than leather made me inclined to agree. Iona may be deafening and vivacious, but her motherly and caring instinct shone through. Even after knowing her for one night, you’d think it had been years. She’d kept us fed, watered and carried the conversations.

“They gave her an ultimatum. Give up her life to marry a factory worker's son or carry on living with them,” DCI Reid typically paced the floor and left muddy boot prints where he roamed.

“And she chose you,” I could envision his issue here.

“She’s a romantic,” DCI Reid swallowed the painful decision which appeared to haunt him up to this very day. “A few months later, they died. She never outwardly said she regretted her decision, but how could you not? She chose a man over her family.”

This topic wasn’t my speciality. I’d barely had any experience with romance or the tribulations that came with it. Mine and Abbey’s relationship was fairly straight, thus far. We had the occasional spat but nothing more. We were two very honest individuals without weighty secrets like DCI Reid’s. His burdens could easily tear apart a marriage.

“Iona inherited all the jewels as their only daughter. Her brother got the business, it was a different era back then,” DCI Reid established. “If she sold them, she’d have a fortune, but she can’t bear to do it. They’re the only thing left of her parents.” He shook himself out of the hazed memories. “Sorry, Cooper, the drink makes me a depressing sod. We all have more secrets than we’d care to admit. You’re lucky I like you, Cooper, otherwise I would've been angry at catching you here.”

“She’s got an acquired taste,” I observed. “They caught my eye. They’re stunning pieces…” I trailed off, desperately anxious to find out if I’d crossed the line and offended him by mentioning his wife’s style.

“Tell me about it. I’d prefer a simple house in oak wood and grey, but that’s what happens once you get married. You compromise.” I knew this was leading into something else by the way DCI Reid cleared his throat. “Iona apologises for the whole marriage situation down there.”

“She wasn’t to know.” I waved the apology off, damned if I let him feel sorry for me. I’d forgotten about it already. “It’s my own issue.”

“Everyone has troubles, Cooper. Life’s a mystery. Some aren’t worth finding out.” He straightened up, double chins on full display. He reminded me of a cruel caricature of Henry the eighth I'd seen at a museum. The image was only enhanced by the button threatening to pop undone around his swollen stomach. “The bathroom’s the next one along when you’re ready.”

24

“You’re lucky he didn’t kick you out there and then,” McCall gasped upon hearing the tale of last night's findings.

“I know. I got away with it by the skin of my teeth,” I relayed the tale to McCall the next afternoon. We’d slept off the worst of the alcohol-induced funk, although Abbey and I sounded groggy.

“All while I was still downstairs thinking you’d been locked in the bathroom or something,” Abbey told her side of the story, wrapped up tightly in a ropey dressing gown. “If I had known you were snooping, I would've worked harder to keep DCI Reid downstairs.”

“It was on the off-chance.” I stifled a yawn. “I couldn’t pass the opportunity up.”

McCall grinned, looking just as bad. She’d waited for us to get home last night, which ended up being much later than we’d envisioned. “Who would’ve known Iona had such an affluent background?” Their accents and taste of furniture gave it away, but McCall hadn’t had the chance to even meet Iona, nor see the house itself.

Her own window had been replaced and locks replaced, but we all agreed it would be safer if she stayed where we could see her. I didn’t want to give our criminals a chance to do any further damage. Abbey sat on my lap and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. She took a moment to savour the scent of my cologne.

“We got their life stories, but we still didn’t get a confession,” she lay her head on my chest, careful to miss the cut.

“Not yet. But I know more