Page 76 of A Circle of Crows

“Keepthis locked,” I told her, and left before she could beg me not to leave.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ROSIE

Iwatched from the window as he climbed into the car. The headlights blinded mefrom his face and that alone left me with an unbelievable urge to cry.

Thelast time I spoke to Gracie, I had no idea when I hung up the phone that Iwould never hear her voice again. If I had known, I never would have saidgoodbye or let her walk into that pub, and maybe, for those reasons alone, itwouldn’t have been the last time at all. But the fact remained that I hadn’tknown, and so it had happened.

Thiswas different now. Alec had walked out of this house, knowing he could die atthe hands of the same person who’d killed my sister, and I let him go. It washis job, I kept reminding myself, and he had to do what he had to do. But thatdidn’t make it any easier to watch him pull out of the driveway.

WhenI no longer saw the headlights through the foyer window, I took my phonethrough the formal living room, kitchen, and into the den, where there was aworn but comfortable couch and a large flat screen TV. I sat down and grabbedthe remote, to find something mindless and consuming that would kill the worryin my mind. But images of Gracie's dead body plagued my mind. I saw her face inevery television personality and actor, and soon, her features began totransform and morph. Her hair darkened. Her features became more rugged andchiseled. She grew a blanket of scruff over her jaw and her dress was replacedwith a wrinkled shirt and tie. Every piece of her was replaced with every pieceof Alec, until he was all there was, unblinking and left to rot. I stared athis lifeless face on the body of a Scottish reporter, until the horror becametoo much to handle, and I could no longer sit there on the couch.

Withmy phone in hand, I ran upstairs and down the hall to where I knew Rick'soffice was. I knocked on the closed door until he threw it open in a frantichaste.

“What'swrong, lass?” he asked, looking around me into the long hallway. “Are ye allright?”

“Wecan't just sit here,” I told him, my voice trembling under the weight of myfear. “There has to be something we can do.”

Heleaned against the doorframe, looking about as defeated as I felt. He wasragged and exhausted, as he replied with a sigh, “It's the nature of the job,Rosie. Idinnaelike it either, but he knows whathe'sdoin'.”

“Butthis isn't the job,” I argued. “He's not going out there with afreakin' S.W.A.T. team. He's apprehending a murderer byhimself, completely unarmed! How the hell are wegonnajust sit here and do nothing?”

Ricknodded, seeming to consider my point, then said, “Ye're right. Thisisdifferent. But neither of us have the skill or knowhow to be of any use to him.If we had gone with him, we'd only get in his way.”

“Butwe could be sitting in the car right now, ready to call the cops or—”

“Andwhat if Finley saw us there? What if he didsomethin'to us? Are ye prepared to handle that? Because I'm sure as hell not.”

Layinga hand over my eyes, I deflated with a shuddered breath. “God, you're right. Idon't know what the hell is wrong with me. I can't think straight. I'm sofucking scared and worried, and I hate that I let him—”

“Iunderstand,” he interrupted gently. I dropped my hand to see the acknowledgingglint in his warm eyes. He offered a weak smile and released a slow, deepbreath, before saying, “If it makes ye feel any better, thisisnaethe first time he's gone after the bad guy, and he'salways come back in the past.”

“Andif he doesn't this time?”

Rickpulled his lips between his teeth and adjusted his glasses as he took a deepbreath. In the grand scheme of things, I barely knew this man. I had only knownhim for less than a week and therefore couldn't pretend to know every one ofhis quirks and nuances. But from the time I had spent with him and Alectogether, I knew for certain that they meant a great deal to each other, and Ialso knew I had hit on something Rick preferred to not think about.

Ittook a moment for him to clear his throat and meet my gaze with his. Then, hesaid in a gruff, weak voice, “Then, he knew what he wasgettin'into.”

“Ican’t accept that,” I muttered, wishing I had never said anything.

Henodded solemnly, then said, “Neither can I. But I don’t have a choice, andneither do you.”

***

“Itold you, I'm fine,” I lied to my ex-husband, sitting back in the den with theTV on.

“Rosie,nobody going through what you're dealing with right now could be fine,” Tomempathized. “You're not alone in the house, right?”

“No.Rick is upstairs, working.”

Hegrunted an approving sound and said, “Good.”

Theroom flickered with light as a commercial played, something too jubilant andexciting to be about garbage bags. I forced my mind to focus on the dancing housewife,to keep my thoughts from wandering toward Alec and what might have been goingon. I hated that he hadn't texted, even more that he hadn't called, but Iwouldn't call or text him, no matter how badly I wanted to hear his voice andknow that he was okay.

“Howis TJ?” I asked, swallowing away at my worries. “Is he okay?”

“He'sfine,” Tom replied, “but he'd be a lot better if his mom was home.”

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