Thistles and Thieves by Molly Macrae

Author:Molly Macrae
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pegasus Books
Published: 2019-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

Christine came by in her parents’ Vauxhall just before dawn the next morning. She knocked softly on the front door with the wolf’s head. Janet had found the knocker in a shop in Tobermory decades before, when she and her husband bought the house and they and their young children spent summers in Inversgail. Christine took pleasure in reminding Janet that the handsome wolf was on track to be in her life longer than Curtis, Janet’s handsome rat of an ex-husband.

Tallie opened the door and let Christine in. “Mom’s upstairs. Coffee’s in the pot.” She led Christine to the kitchen, poured two cups, and yawned as she handed one to Christine. “Why the clandestine knock? I barely heard. And why so early?”

“It only seems early. You haven’t lived here through a winter, have you? Believe me, when you do, you’ll know you aren’t in central Illinois any longer. You think sunrise at half seven is dismal, wait until late December. If you see the sun even thinking about showing its face much before nine, you’ll think it’s a miracle.”

“You’re saying the Scottish winter sun is a sullen teenager?”

“Sullen, and depending on the weather, snarling.”

“But what I meant is why are you taking the bike back so early? Lynsey probably had a horrible night’s sleep. She might still be in bed.”

“I doubt she slept at all,” Christine said.

“But we might be lucky enough to arrive before the police.” Janet came into the kitchen wearing her jersey and leggings. “If they plan to call on her this morning, we’re counting on them having better manners than we do.”

“And what sort of manners do you have, going dressed like that?” Christine asked.

“I’m with it,” Janet said. “My leggings speak Lynsey’s language. Ready?” She and Christine headed for the back door and Janet called back to Tallie, “We’ll see you at Yon Bonnie in time to open.”

Christine had parked in the driveway behind Janet’s car. She opened the boot while Janet unlocked Lynsey’s bike and brought it through the garden gate. “Right then,” Christine said. “Help me lift it. Upsy-daisy and in it goes—oof—twist it the other way—not quite like that—there—and—almost—and—no, it bloody well is not going in.”

Puffing, they set the bike back on the ground.

“You knew that, didn’t you?” Christine asked.

“I’ll go get my helmet and meet you there.”

Janet coasted down toward the harbor and along the High Street. She passed Yon Bonnie Books and Cakes and Tales and then pedaled out the coastal road going south. The ride wouldn’t be as pleasant in a stiff breeze or if the road became packed with tourists and coaches. This morning, though, she heard shore birds crying over the sound of waves. Several miles along, she made a turn into one of the housing estates that had sprouted up on the southern edge of Inversgail.

Tallie had found the Maclennans’ address for her, and she spotted Christine’s car in front of a pebble-dashed semi-detached. The Maclennans lived not quite on the opposite end of the social scale from the Murrays, but certainly a much plainer life.

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