Stuart MacBride - The Missing and the Dead

‘He’d changed his name, got married again, had a couple of kids with a Spanish woman. He beat her up, so she kicked him out. Got sole custody of the children.’

A breath, then it must’ve clicked. ‘What about Natasha? Is she there? Is she OK?’

‘I don’t know, but I’ve got an address in Spain I can text you.’

‘Oh God, that’s brilliant news! Thank you!’ And the hope was back again, glowing in her voice like sunshine. ‘I’ll call the private investigator right away. Oh, Logan, what if she’s OK? What if my little girl’s not dead after all? Isn’t it wonderful?’

At least somebody could have a happy ending.

God knew it would be about sodding time.

Still …

He sagged back on the couch. ‘Helen, maybe you’d be better off finding someone else. Your PI didn’t even know Brian was dead. Doubt he could find his own bum in a kilt, never mind Natasha.’

‘Oh.’

Silence.

‘Look, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.’ He let his head fall back and stared up at the pristine ceiling. ‘I’m having a bad day, that’s all. Sure it’ll be fine.’

The silence stretched.

‘Helen? You still there?’

‘Logan? Would you …’ She swallowed. ‘Would you like to come to Spain with me?’