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Guardian angels usually stay with their morsubs for life, which meant the cop had died just before Casper first appeared to me nineteen years ago. By Casper’s tone I guessed he felt responsible. I was curious to know how the cop had died.

“I screwed up,” Casper said, pre-empting my question. “There were so many bullets flying, it was impossible to deflect them all. But that’s no excuse. I should have been up to the task.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said. “Shit happens.”

“The only consolation,” he went on as though I hadn’t spoken, “is that she went straight to Heaven.”

“She?” Of course it would be a she. Casper had told me that all his morsubs had been women.

“Yes, she,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

Fighting back a wave of jealousy, I mumbled, “Nope.”

He looked somber. “I want you to die in your bed, Allegra, of old age.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I didn’t expect you’d choose such a dangerous job,” he went on. “You were always a tomboy, but I thought you’d do something involving sport. Basketball or—”

“I was never much of a team player,” I said.

“No,” he agreed, “and you always enjoyed solving puzzles.”

“I think I’m doing what I was born to do, Casper. Sorry if it makes your job more difficult. Maybe you could put in for a transfer.”

He laughed softly as though he knew my remark wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. We both knew he would only get transferred if there was some major transgression—like falling in love with his morsub.

Neither of us spoke much after that. We fell into an easy silence. Pure, deep and warm. It was almost disappointing to reach Mac’s.

“There’s no reason for me to go in,” said Casper.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. Reluctantly? “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Leaving him standing in the street, I went inside. It was after closing time, but there were people in the bar. Douglas and Bess were trying to persuade Stuart and Anne MacDuff that it was time to go home.

“I’m not leaving,” said Stuart flatly. “If I go home the selkies will know where to find me.” He sounded really drunk.

Douglas threw me an exasperated glance. “Allegra, you know about the paranormal. Tell him the selkies aren’t going to kill him.”

I didn’t want to reveal that the selkies were leaving the loch. If that got back to Sir Alastair he might poison it sooner rather than later.

But I did want to reassure Stuart, so I said, “The selkies aren’t going to kill you.” Thinking of Malcolm’s fate, I continued, “But it’d be best to stay away from the loch. Especially if you’ve been drinking.”

“Of course he will,” said Anne. But apparently she hadn’t heard the bit about the selkies not wanting to kill him, because she added, “If any of them come for him they’ll have to get past me first.”

Better the selkies than me, I thought. Anne would be a formidable opponent if her man was threatened. She took Stuart’s arm and said, “Let’s go home.”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “It’s not safe.” Apparently he hadn’t heard the bit about the selkies not wanting to kill him either. Maybe I should tell him again. Loudly. Or maybe I should give him a good shake. I was considering doing the latter when he said, “I’m staying right here,” and plonked himself on a bar stool.

Bess rolled her eyes. “You cannae stay in the bar. It’s against the law.”

I had no idea whether that was true or merely a convenient way of getting rid of the MacDuffs, but Stuart wasn’t leaving.

“Give us a room upstairs,” he said. “We’ll pay.”

Douglas exchanged a glance with Bess.

She shrugged. “Fine. Take the Tartan Room. I’m going to bed. It’s been a shitty night.” She looked at me as though I was responsible. That was partly true so I mouthed, Sorry. She shrugged again and trudged up the stairs.

Anne yawned. “I’m exhausted. Come on, Stuart. Let’s go to bed.” She put her arm around him and eased him off the stool.

“Do you want some help?” asked Douglas.

“I can manage,” she said as they headed for the stairs. “He’s not that drunk.”

He could have fooled me, but I kept my mouth shut.

When they had disappeared upstairs, Douglas said, “Nightcap?”

“Yeah.