Page 50 of The Distiller's Darling

“Cathal Brennan.” He peered past her into the house. “Where the devil is my son?”

“Iain’s not here,” she said. Her voice sounded squeaky to her own ears.

“Listen, missy, I’m no fool.” The old man pointed his finger at her nose. “When two of my children go dark on their family and disappear, I know something’s up. And judging by what I’ve heard since I got here, you’re to blame.”

“Naomi? Who’s this?” Her mother had come up behind her.

“Iain’s father,” she said helplessly. Her mind was whirling.

“Well, how nice. Why don’t you come in?” Judith Klein’s society face fell into place effortlessly.

Cathal stomped into the house, and Naomi silently shut the door behind him. “I don’t understand,” she said. “What do you mean, two of your children have disappeared?”

“I haven’t heard a drop from Iain since our last call, and Maeve fed her mother some harebrained story about a hen do in Vegas and vanished a couple of days ago. I told you, woman, I’m not an idiot. Maeve’s a good girl, she wouldn’t do something wild unless Iain talked her into it. And Iain’s a family man. A Brennan. He wouldn’t insist on staying here unless somebody else talked him into it.” He glared at her. “I know it was you. Tell me where he is, so I can take him home.”

---