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walking him to the door.
    The wind howled and rain spat. He pulled his hood over his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, as a child they said you were a—”
    “Don’t even say it!”
    Robbie laughed and tapped a knuckle under her chin. “Could you not make me a wee love potion?”
    Rain hissed under the tires of a car driving by. Sorcha huddled into the thick sweatshirt Ben Foley had lent her. “If I was what they said I was, I’d have already turned him into a toad.” She threw a look over her shoulder, but Kevin and Carolyn had turned on the TV and were settling down to watch a show. “Come to think of it, someone beat me to it.”
    ***
    Cold crept down Ben’s collar despite the layers of wool and Gortex he wore. It was midnight on the storm-tossed coast and he wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into. After a lifetime of avoiding the ocean, he was now so close he could taste it without even opening his mouth.
    The vehicle he’d been told to expect sat idling in a dark corner of a deserted parking lot. After watching the area for a few minutes he walked over, reached for the door handle. The door burst open to reveal a shaggy mass of fur that raced toward the beach.
    “Jesus!” His heart imploded.
    With the open door, the interior light came on and revealed a sharp-featured man behind the wheel. “Foley?”
    Ben nodded.
    “Nick Archer. Get in.”
    Detective Inspector Nick Archer had the sort of crime-fighting reputation that could have taken him anywhere in the world. Why the hell had he chosen this dank corner of hell?
    “What have you got for me?” A week ago Ben had held Jacob’s mother’s hand while they buried his best friend. He’d spent the last few days shadowing their only suspect, and now he wanted this over.
    Archer flicked on the overhead light and pulled an envelope out of the side pocket of his door. “Not a lot. Sorcha Logan was born in the town but left when she was still a kid after her dad’s drowning. Then she lived with her mother until she died. Then she went to Australia to do a M.Sc. and moved back here just a few months ago.”
    “Why would anyone swap Australia for this place?”
    “Some people like it.” Archer’s smile had a quality of menace to it and Ben relaxed for the first time in days. He could deal with the threat of imminent violence much better than he could handle Jacob’s death or his own crippling hydrophobia.
    Archer tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “She rents a room in her cottage to another student at St. Andrews University, a girl called Carolyn Jamieson. Neither has a record of ever having been in trouble with the police, here or abroad.”
    “How many men can you spare to help with this investigation?”
    Archer laughed. “Well, we have a small problem with that.”
    “What?”
    “You know Sorcha Logan’s uncle is a police officer in Anstruther and her other uncle is one of the lifeboat crew? Well, all the officers in Fife Constabulary play fucking golf together and there’s no way I can guarantee keeping your investigation under wraps if I start asking questions. They’ll know something’s up.”
    Irritation swelled inside him. “So drug dealers get a free ride if they have police connections, is that it?” He thrust the photographs onto the dash.
    Nick Archer’s eyes took on a fierce gleam. “I know you just lost your partner so I’m going to forget you said that.”
    Ben rubbed his eye sockets and slumped in his seat. He had better people skills than this. His charm had been his most effective weapon in Colombia—combined with his innate emotional distance, he was tailor-made for deep undercover operations. But the recent carnage had changed him, damaged him. He had an awful feeling he might never be the same again.
    Archer narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to give my detective sergeant time off on compassionate grounds—that’s the official line anyway. Ewan McKnight’s the best man I know and a