Female laughter from a nearby booth halted McNab’s attack. Was that Ellie? He rose and, slipping into the aisle, took a look.

She was seated two booths down, Baldy opposite. The bastard looked very comfortable and keen. Ignoring the warning voice in his head, McNab decided to go with the hot-blooded approach.

‘Hi, Ellie. Thought I heard your voice.’

She looked up at him in surprise. ‘Michael.’

McNab almost flipped when he read her face. A mixture of embarrassment, discomfort and defiance.

Baldy, on the other hand, was observing him with extreme annoyance, like he’d been stopped in the sex act just prior to climax. It was an image McNab didn’t relish.

‘Your new friend here,’ he heard himself saying. ‘Did he tell you about himself? Like, the fact he’s been charged with stalking?’

When Ellie’s face fell, McNab knew he’d fucked up, but he still couldn’t stop himself. ‘Dating a detective is crap, but dating the folk a detective is looking for is the bigger shite by far.’

Turning on his heel, McNab returned to his table, but did not resume his seat. The truth was he’d had enough of DI Cleverly’s face too.

‘We’re over, Cleverly. Go suck blood somewhere else.’

McNab made for the door. Was it the whisky or jealousy or just plain being a detective who’d read too many situations and people and found them wanting?

At that moment he didn’t give a damn.

22

‘So what’s going on?’ Chrissy wore her intense look. ‘Between you and Sean?’

‘Nothing,’ Rhona said, because it was true. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left for work in the eye of the storm.

Chrissy eyed Rhona in her inimitable fashion. ‘I suggest you seek the Irishman out and make contact.’

Rhona was about to say no, but since they’d established Sean was on the premises, and it only involved a short walk to his office . . .

‘Anything to get you off my case,’ she said with a smile.

How many times had she walked this corridor since she’d met the Irishman with the blue eyes and the ability to play her the way he teased sweet music from his saxophone?

She recalled one instance, back when Sean had had a brush with the law because of a girl Chrissy was convinced was dealing drugs on the jazz club premises. Her suspicions had proved false in the end, but Rhona remembered how she’d initially been more freaked by the thought that Sean and the girl had been having sex than by the drugs angle.

All in the past, she reminded herself.

As she approached the door, she heard Sean’s raised voice. Was someone in the office with him?

She hesitated before easing the door open, only to discover Sean alone, phone anchored to his ear, his normally easy-going look transplanted by one of fierce annoyance.