MacDonald had the good sense to apologize. “I didnae mean offense. Go and leave me in peace.”
Nicola led them to the front door, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry for yer friend, so I am, but my da knows nothin’. I know how it must seem, but he’s no’ a bad man, really.”
“You’ve no need to apologize for your da,” Quinn said. “What he says and does is on him alone. It disnae reflect on you.”
His words seemed to touch Nicola. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for your help, Nicola.” Elizabeth reached into her handbag and drew out a business card. “If you hear anything or just want to talk, this is my email address.”
Nicola took the card—and shut the door in their faces.
* * *
Elizabeth pushedher way out the front door and hurried toward the street, inhaling the fresh night air, letting it wash away the terrible stench of mold, urine, and despair. She had never seen anything like that before. “How can they live like that? The smell is terrible.”
Quinn fell in beside her. “No’ everyone is born into an easy life.”
He sounded defensive. Had she offended him?
“I’m not judging them. I just can’t believe they live with all of that black mold. The whole building reeks of it. It’s a health hazard.”
Quinn said nothing but walked faster.
Elizabeth changed the subject, sharing what she’d gleaned from that brief encounter with Clive MacDonald and Nicola. “He’s lying. He knows something.”
“MacDonald’s no’ the man who killed Jack. I knew that the moment I saw him.”
“I agree. He couldn’t have killed Jack. But he knows something. When I first mentioned Jack’s name, he had an adrenaline reaction.”
“He thought you were the police, aye?”
That might have been it, but Elizabeth didn’t think so. “Nicola was afraid.”
Quinn was walking so fast now that Elizabeth almost had to run to keep up. “She’s got reason to be afraid, livin’ wi’ an alcoholic. Maybe he beats her when he’s rat-arsed. Who’s to say?”
“That’s not what I meant. She hurried to explain away her father’s behavior when all he could say was that he didn’t remember. He’s lying about that, too, I’m sure.”
Elizabeth stopped chasing after Quinn, walked at her own pace, confused by this change in him. Then again, he’d been tense since they left Glasgow. She’d thought it had to do with the reality of investigating Jack’s murder. But now…
“Is something wrong, McManus? And remember—I can tell when you’re lying.”
He stopped, turned to face her, his expression obscured by the darkness. “Igrew up in a place just like this wi’ a da much like him.”
Oh, God, Quinn.
She felt a rush of sympathy for him, his defensive response making sense now.
Shit.
“I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t blame—”
“It wisnae anythin’ you said. It’s just this place. It brings back … memories.”
She could understand that. “Then how about we get the hell out of here and go somewhere fun for dinner?”
“Somewhere fun?” He seemed to consider this. “Aye, we could do that.”
They hurried to the rental car, Elizabeth once again going to the wrong side. “The news articles repeated what Jack said. MacDonald was shouting about abortion. Does Scotland have an anti-abortion movement?”