The Devil's Due: A Cooper and McCall Scottish Crime Thriller by Ramsay Sinclair (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

to their necks in paperwork and agreements with media outlets. However, Christmas Eve would be unique, my first night out with the team to celebrate DCI Campbell’s retirement.

When the team found out the news, DCI Campbell received too many cakes to eat himself, so they ended up circulating back around the offices. I’d eaten one too many slices, in dangerous territory of not fitting into any of my suits.

I fiddled, tugged the new tie tighter around my neck, and glanced away from my warped mirror reflection to the four other suit choices discarded on my bedroom floor. We wore suits all day, every day. How were we supposed to look any different for special occasions? Unfortunately, my shining bruise from the beating was still noticeable.

I reached the pub with plenty of time to spare, pushing the negative memories of my last rendezvous with Georgina Ryder there. Noise poured out from inside, full of CID officers already rowdy and starting the long night ahead early. My nerves shot to an all-time high. I’d never experienced this kind of group setting before, and I internally crossed everything, hoping it went well. A bunch of flowers and a card was bunched up in my slightly trembling hands. From behind, a few scattered groups of locals and young adults roamed the streets to feel the magical feeling that only comes once a year.

The pub door pushed open under my hand, revealing the amount of chaos we had in store for us. I could see a few guys from the office having some rowdy banter with the barman, refilling their drinks two or three times each. A sprinkling of tinsel covered picture frames in silver plastic.

A strong smell of rum, brandy, and whisky hung in the air, smelling like a matured fruit cake. Surely, those boys were not already starting on the heavy stuff. I spotted McCall and DC Taylor sat cosily on one pub table, a rounded one with an extra seat propped nearby, expecting someone else. McCall waved me over cheerfully, their hands clasped together on top of the wooden table. Politely, I mouthed ‘One second’ and made my way to the bar, in search of some Dutch courage. After I got some, I caught McCall shouting over the general din.

“Finlay! Come sit.” I wandered over and sat. “Nice to see you out,” McCall referred to the bustling pub where nobody could hear themselves think.

Maybe that was a good thing. Banners had been hung up for DCI Campbell’s arrival.

“Sir,” DC Taylor acknowledged me and shook my hand vigorously. The two had matched for the night, McCall in a red velvet dress and DC Taylor completing the theme in a red tie. McCall settled down, sipping on a large glass of wine.

“Well, uh, happy Christmas,” I wondered if people actually said that to each other at these kinds of events.

“Happy Christmas Eve,” McCall corrected and smacked her rosy lips together to ensure the lipstick hadn’t smudged. “So, how are you feeling about tonight?”

“Good.” I glanced at the pub doors.

“You dressed smart, which is step one.” McCall graciously approved. “John cleaned up nicely tonight too.” She smoothed out DC Taylor’s jacket tenderly.

A sip of lager was required immediately.

“Just look at these,” McCall tucked a lock of hair behind one ear to showcase her pearl earrings. “Aren’t they beautiful? I told John not to make quite so much effort, but he didn’t listen as usual. Not that I don’t appreciate them. They’re beautiful.”

DC Taylor smiled awkwardly.

“Lovely. Here, for you,” I handed over a small card. Nothing flash. Plain and simple. “Not quite as glamorous as DC Taylor’s gift.”

McCall opened it quickly, no better than a little child. She read the card graciously and thanked me for the lovely words. Obviously, she was being kind. I only wrote ‘Happy Christmas, from Cooper’ inside. After the card propped up in the middle of the table, we descended into work chat. Politely, really. I could tell the two lovebirds would have preferred the night to themselves, and I anxiously waited for my own arrival.

The other two noticed how often I flinched whenever the pub door opened to reveal another local or CID member alike.

I finished my lager before we were expected to head off to DCI Campbell’s party and ordered another to shake the nerves. Lifting the smeared glass, I spotted someone familiar across the room. Sparkly, out-there makeup swept across her lash line and a dab of blush wrapped it all together. Lucy noticed me staring inconspicuously and raised a glass in return. Everyone in town had gathered for the celebration of Christmas and DCI Campbell’s departure. People were grateful for his devotion to their town.

A new arrival entered through the door, a lady who stood directly in front of our table. My breath hitched surprisedly, not expecting such a vision. Abbey. A tight and slinky gold dress clung to her body, showing off all her best assets. On purpose, to impress the roomful of strangers. I expected nothing less. Meanwhile, the lads and bartender wolf-whistled compliments over. Abbey blushed coyly, curled, flame shaded hair piled into a fancy updo for the occasion.

I could hardly stand up quick enough. Eye to eye. I thrust the bouquet into her hands.

“For you,” I said, not expecting to be confronted by a vision of beauty in plain sight.

“They’re lovely,” she said pleasantly and sniffed some roses. McCall coughed deliberately.

“Right. Yes. McCall, Abbey Aston. Abbey, McCall and DC Taylor.” I made proper introductions followed all round, at last. They all vaguely knew of each other, anyway. Abbey politely shook both of their hands.

“We’ve met before,” McCall noted. “Please, call me Kirsty. Finlay’s too uptight to call us by our real names. And this is John.”

“We’ve met briefly too,” DC Taylor chuckled, shaking Abbey’s hand. They dragged over a chair for Abbey to sit down with us. I internally begged for the long night ahead to go smoothly, without kinks.

“So, did you have to force Finlay to come and socialise?” McCall mocked, getting