Two hours later...
Ingrid's car screeched to a halt outside the pub. She climbed out and sprinted inside. Scanning the room, she could see no sign of Marcus – or Grace. Sighing, she sat down and looked at the time. It was late, nearly too late to start the drive home.
"Perhaps I'd better stay here tonight." Walking to the front desk, she was told that all the rooms were full. Ingrid dejectedly walked outside and got back into her car, and began the long drive back to Killarney.
Regan tried to ring Grace for the sixth time, and finally got an answer.
"Grace McLeod, it's about bloody time!"
Grace slurred her words. "It's good to hear you too, little sister."
Regan started. Grace, drunk to the point of slurring? "Grace, what are you doing?"
Grace laughed drunkenly, and repeated Regan's words. A man's laugh sounded in the room, chillingly familiar.
"I'm playing with fire, little sister." The man chuckled again, and Regan placed the voice – it was Marcus. Her blood ran cold.
"Grace, what are you doing with Marcus? Ingrid will shoot you if she finds out, you know that. Didn't what she say this morning mean anything?"
"Not now, it doesn't. Marcus and I are attending to some very important business." Regan heard Marcus in the background, also slurring: "Come here, you sexy thing..."
Grace squealed. "Ooh! Regan, I gotta go." With that, she hung up and turned her phone off.
Regan panicked, but also knew there was nothing she could do, except to hope and pray that Ingrid didn't find out.