“I don’t know about that,” he said. “Clive was one of MacCarthy’s clients. He’d gotten him out of several messes in the past. Of course, it was easy work for MacCarthy because witnesses wouldn’t dare testify against Clive.”
“Were the arrests for fighting?” Isabel asked.
Sinclair had looked at Clive’s record and answered. “Most were. Harcus can’t or won’t control his temper.”
“If he kills someone, he’ll probably get away with it,” Fletcher said. He downed the rest of his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Isabel couldn’t stop herself from pushing another napkin toward him. There were now three in front of him and he hadn’t touched any of them.
“He’ll have to find another corrupt solicitor when he starts another fight and breaks someone’s jaw,” Sinclair said.
Michael looked at the bar and then turned to Sinclair. “I think the bartender is trying to get your attention.”
Sinclair immediately got up and crossed the room, zigzagging his way around the tables. The bartender stopped wiping the counter with his cloth while he spoke to Sinclair. Whatever he said surprised the inspector, who turned to look at Michael and Isabel and nod.
“It’s all right, Annie. You can ask,” the bartender called out before speaking to Sinclair again.
The waitress appeared with their bill. She was blushing and seemed flustered. Michael paid and gave her a large tip. As she tucked the money into her apron, she leaned in and said, “You’re Isabel, aren’t you? You’re really her.” Needing confirmation she asked again, “You are her, right?”
“Yes, I am.”
Annie’s hand flew to her throat. “I love your voice,” she blurted.
“Thank you.”
“Could you give me your autograph? My boss said it was okay to ask.”
As soon as Isabel agreed, Annie tore one of the blank pages from her order pad and handed the paper and her pen to Isabel.
“Sign it ‘to Annie,’ please, and you can say how nice it was to meet me if that’s all right. You don’t need to write your full name. Just sign ‘Isabel’ because that’s what XO calls you.”
“Yes, of course,” Isabel said, and quickly wrote the message and signed her name.
“This is so exciting,” she whispered. “Could I ask something?”
“What is it?”
“Are you going to marry XO?”
Michael was more surprised by the question than Isabel appeared to be.
“No, I’m not going to marry XO.”
“All your fans say you are.”
She had hoped the Internet chatter would have died down by now. “You read that I was going to marry him?”
“Oh yes, it’s everywhere. It’s all over social media. I turn on my laptop first thing in the morning and read the latest news while I have my tea. You’re all that everyone is talking about. Tomorrow will be awesome. I’ll get to brag that I met you.” Annie started to walk away, then stopped. “Wait.
You’re not already married to XO, are you?”
Isabel smiled. “No, we’re just friends.”
Michael muttered something under his breath. Isabel was pretty sure it was a blasphemy.
“Are you famous or something?” Fletcher wanted to know.
She shook her head. “No.”
The front door suddenly flew open with such force it bounced against the wall. The whole pub fell dead silent.
And the Terror of the Highlands stormed in.
THIRTY-TWO
TERROR CERTAINLY WAS A FIT DESCRIPTION OF THE MAN WHO WAS STANDING AT THE DOOR
surveying the pub’s crowd as though he were hunting for prey. With fire in his eyes, the ugly brute then headed to the bar.
“That’s Clive Harcus.” Fletcher whispered his name and hunched down until his forehead was almost touching the tabletop. “Graeme Gibson is with him. They’re both mean as rabid dogs.”
Isabel didn’t think she had ever seen anyone this angry. Harcus’s body was rigid and his clinched fists shook with his fury. He was a big man, about Michael’s size, but the comparison stopped there.
Clive had more flab than muscle through his middle, but his shoulders and beefy arms were those of a weight lifter. He had a double chin and a thick neck that all but disappeared in his sloped shoulders.
The hateful expression on his face could give children nightmares. Their parents, too. He looked exactly like what he was. A bully. And he was out for blood.