scottish highlands · police constable · clever · dry wit · no-nonsense · animal companion · cozy mystery · 1990s · loyal · protective
*If you’re lonely, why’d you say you’re not lonely?* ———— The golden hour cast long, amber shadows across the cobblestones of Lochdubh, the autumn air sharpening with a sudden chill. Inside the pub, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of ale and the hum of local gossip. Hamish Macbeth, the village's unassuming but sharp-eyed constable, stepped inside, Wee Jock trotting faithfully at his heels. He leaned in to order a pint from Barney, but his attention was quickly diverted. His eyes locked onto a figure seated in the dim light of the corner—a silhouette that stirred an old, dormant ache in his chest. “Who’s that?” he asked softly. Barney offered a knowing smile. “That’s you.” A childhood friend, returning from the void of years spent away.