Page 74 of Savage Justice

“Yes,” he replies quietly. “She has his eyes.”

“She does not!”

He shrugs. “He denied it, and I believe him.”

I glower at him. “Right, then. Not that it concerns you…”

“But he admitted that he does know who her dad was. Suggested I should ask you.”

“I’m not… I mean, I don’t… It was a long time ago.”

“Eleven years or thereabouts.” he agrees. “Not so long you wouldn’t remember. Or maybe there were a few candidates…”

My slender hold on my temper evaporates. “How dare you? What the fuck does it have to do with you anyway? If you think—”

“I apologise. That was uncalled for.”

He has the grace to look chastened but I’m past caring.

“You bet it was.” It’ll take more than an apology to make up for that misogynistic little gem. “I don’t answer to you, or anyone. Keep your nose out of my business.”

“I’m sorry. I should never have said that. You know I adore Lucy…”

“Even if you do think her mother’s a slut.”

“I never said that.”

“You implied it, arsehole.”

“Molly…”

“You go and play your gangster games in Inverness. I have stuff to do, and that doesn’t include going through the third degree with you.”

“I—”

“Go fuck yourself, Nico. I’m done with you and your bloody questions.” I spin on my heel and stomp off up the stairs.

He doesn’t follow me. Sensible man.

“What’s got up your arse this morning?” Marlowe sets aside his paintbrush to regard me.

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Fair enough.” He picks up the brush and dips it into a little pool of off-white paint. “In that case, do you mind making yourself scarce? You’re curdling the milk in my coffee.”

“What are you…?”

“I’m guessing you spoke to Nico,” he offers, ignoring my denial.

“Apparently, so did you.”

“He asked, I answered.”

“It was none of his business.”

“If you say so.” He tilts his head and applies a deft brushstroke.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You think it was?”

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