Page 17

Some part of her brain had registered they’d passed the Lower Barrakka Gardens a few minutes ago, and she could see they were about to change direction again, moving in a more north-easterly direction travelling around the peninsula. The fierce sunshine burnt the pavement, explaining why the horse-drawn carriages sheltered under custom-built horse awnings while resting between customers.

With her blouse sticking to her back, Lela wished she’d tucked a sunhat and glasses into the luggage she’d packed so hastily. Her packing had been as jumbled as her thoughts, her famed, cool decision-making lost in her urgent need to find her niece.

“Your father asked for help in tracing his granddaughter, a young woman he calls Sophia.”

His starting point was unexpected, making Lela forget to guard her tongue. “He’s always preferred it to Sophie, thinks it has more gravitas.”

“‘Gravitas?’” he repeated. “An unusual requirement for a young girl’s name.”

She skipped a few steps to keep up with him. “Parents usually choose names for a reason, especially for their firstborn. There’s an excitement, a joy in giving your baby a name you think is beautiful. My sister said Sophie was the most beautiful name she’d ever heard.” Mari had crooned the name to her baby, and Sophie had cooed and smiled back.

“This rule about parents choosing names they love doesn’t apply to you?” he asked quietly.

“Touché,” she muttered, but at this point she owed him. “My sister also chose it because it means wise or wisdom, and she was damning Papa’s prejudice and anger at her pregnancy outside marriage.”

“Are you damning him for the same reason?” he asked.

The tally on his side of the ledger was adding up. Accepting Lela’s correction of Sophie’s name without question gave him huge bonus points. He’d met her last night; she’d challenged everything he said or offered, and he adapted with ease.

A man who listened.

Lela knew men did and could listen to women. The quality was often missing in her father, and the last investigator Papa hired had mimicked his natural biases.

“I’m using my mother’s name,” she said evasively.

“How does your mother feel about that?”

“She died eighteen months before my sister.”

Hamish paused, and Lela bumped into him. He reached out a hand to steady her. “Not as tough as you pretend to be, are you?”

“Tough enough to fight you.” Her chin lifted.

“Is Sophie’s father around?”

“No.”

“Could he have asked Sophie to fly to Malta?”

“Dean has no connection to Malta. Besides, he walked out before Sophie was born and has never tried to see her.” Despite all Lela’s efforts.

“To your knowledge.”

“My knowledge is the most reliable you’ll get.”

“Could your father have blocked contact?” He was sharing his thoughts with her, which helped her sort out her own. Was Hamish starting to question whether Giovanni Vella had given him all the information he needed on his quest?

“Sadly, Dean doesn’t have the balls to approach Papa. Dean would have come to me. The last time I tracked him down”—she’d thought he might be able to help after Sophie hid in the attic—"he was heading to Western Australia to make a fortune in the mining industry.”

“Your father is Sophie’s legal guardian, and she has lived under his roof since her mother died? Can we agree on those facts?”

“Yes to both questions.”Whatever I’m missing, it’s big.MacGregor was no lightweight. His reputation was built from his success in finding and returning missing children. And prosecuting those responsible for causing harm.

“I sense a but ...”

His perception was annoying.

“What has Papa asked you to do? Specifically?” She stretched out a hand to stop him.