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She looked at Sin then back at Michael. "Yes."

"Your father said when you called him, you were in trouble and you were hurt, that you wanted to come home. Is that true?" Michael questioned.

"There is no home for me to go to. My father said I'm dead to him."

"You didn't answer my question," he said, his voice rising. "Who put that fucking thing on your stomach? Someone hurt you."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Charlie, is he holding you against your will?"

The room was silent. Both men looked at her, waiting for her to answer. A knock at the door startled her. Sin stood up and went to the bedroom. He returned, pulling his sweater over his head to cover his weapons. "Not a fucking word," he said to Michael.

He answered the door and Detective Constable Ronald McGee stood on the other side. "Ronnie," Sin said, "what brings you out here?" He opened the door, letting the police officer in.

"There were reports of shots being fired in this direction. I was just checking to see if everything was all right." His eyes scanned the room.

"Aye. We heard them too." Best not to deny the information.

The officer's eyes settled on Charlie and Michael. They were outsiders and would be considered suspicious to anyone in the town.

"You met my wife Charlotte last night."

"It's nice to see you again, ma'am," the officer said, giving her a nod.

"Our friend Michael. He came up to offer us his felicitations."

"I hope you're enjoying your time here." The officer turned to Sin. "You don't mind, Sinclair, if I take a quick peek around?" Sin stared at him. "Ah, for the report and all."

"Be my guest, Ronnie. But it's most likely the fisheries shooting the seals."

"Aye, could be, but we've not had reports of that for a while." The officer stepped into the bedroom. Charlie looked at Sin, panicking. "It will be all right," he whispered, knowing she'd be worried about the print.

The officer came back out and pointed to the loft.

"It's my art studio," Sin said, following Ronnie up the stairs. Charlie was close on their heels with Michael right behind her.

The DC looked around, his eyes coming to rest on the print on the easel. He glanced up at Charlie then back at the print, his cheeks tinged pink. "I suppose it could be someone at the fisheries. There's a new owner over at North Ross."

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Aye, well, everything seems to be in order here. I'll leave you to it."

"I'll see you out," Sin said.

"No, I can manage. It was good seeing you at the pub last night."

"Aye, same to you, Ronnie."

"Ma'am." He bowed his head toward Charlie but couldn't meet her eyes before scurrying down the stairs and out the front door.

"Do you think he realized it was the print?" Charlie asked. "Surely, there will be reports it's missing." She walked around the easel to look at it.

Her face turned bright red. Michael came up behind her. "Fucking hell," he said. It was a sketch of her lying naked on the rocks by the cove in the same position she had been in last night, with one hand over her head and the other between her legs, as the water lapped at her. The expression on her face was filled with rapture. The Liberation of Charlotte.

"I finished my project," Sin said. "I thought I would start a new one. I couldn't get the image out of my head."

"You fucking whore," Michael said. "You wouldn't even touch me. Look at you."