The Presence

  She felt Bruce’s arm around her. But still, she had the feeling that they were not alone.

  She looked to the foot of the bed. And he was there. Once again, standing, looking at her, sword hanging from his hand, bloodied. He looked at her, and she knew he wanted her to follow.

  At her side, Bruce stirred. “Toni?”

  “Yes?”

  “Is he here?”

  She didn’t know if the question was mocking or not. She was staring at the apparition. She told the truth. “Yes.”

  She heard a soft groan, but he pulled her closer. “Tell him to go away. Tell him that I’m here.”

  She looked at the apparition. “Go away!” she whispered. Words formed then, unspoken on her lips. Please. I don’t know what you want!

  He inclined his head, as if bowing to her desires. Then, as she stared at him, he faded until he was nothing more than a shadow in the night. She lay back down, glad, gnawing upon her lip.

  There had to be something else that he wanted…but what? What the hell was it that he wanted?

  Toni was determined to find out, whatever it took, wherever it led. She would swallow fear and find out why he kept coming back….

  With that settled, she moved in tightly next to Bruce. His breath teased her nape. His hand rested on her midriff. Her back was solidly to his chest, and he gave her tremendous warmth. Like a cascade of warm water, the touch filled her with comfort and ease. She closed her eyes and fell back to sleep. She didn’t waken to darkness again.

  In the morning, Bruce was up and gone when she awoke.

  “You’re joking with me, right?”

  Bruce sat across the table from Robert Chamberlain at the pub, having received a message to meet him there at eleven. He was surprised that Robert wanted to meet in the village; he usually chose Stirling.

  But he was even more surprised by his friend’s words.

  Robert shook his head gravely. “I’ve asked them to meet us here.”

  Bruce groaned. “I don’t believe this. Not from you.”

  “Bruce, law enforcement has resorted to such tactics many times. I wouldn’t have called over to the States myself—”

  “Why should you? It’s not as if we don’t have our share of quacks in Great Britain,” Bruce said.

  Robert grinned. “I wouldn’t have known that they were here if you hadn’t logged on to the police line to investigate them. But since I saw your inquiry, I looked them up.”

  “Harrison Investigations,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “They go into places where unusual events have taken place.”

  “They’re discreet, but not secretive,” Robert said. “There’s no sensationalism regarding the corporation. They’ve been called upon by law agencies in many places. They’ve worked for congressmen and senators, even a U.S. president—”

  “Whoever said that men and women in the government were sane?” Bruce asked him.

  Robert shrugged. “Bruce, you have told me a dozen times yourself that we should be tearing the forest apart, looking for the remains of Annie O’Hara.”

  “The last two victims were found there,” Bruce said. “That’s logic, not intuition.”

  “I still think it was more than logic when you nailed the killers ten years ago.”

  Bruce shifted uncomfortably. “It seems to me that there’s a great deal more we could—sorry, the law could be doing without resorting to…mumbo jumbo.”

  “Be polite, please.”

  “Hey, times have changed. I’m not the ruler of my own little kingdom. I own the castle and a lot of property. I have the title, but you can buy a title on the Internet these days. I can hardly order these people to get out of my village by sundown,” Bruce said.

  “On a more realistic note,” Bruce said, “I met with Jonathan yesterday. The boys in computer tech are apparently having some pretty good luck tracking down information on the phony corporation that rented the castle.”

  Robert nodded. “I’ve seen the reports. I’ve kept out of it. Jonathan is the local constable.”

  “He’s got it out for Thayer Fraser, I’d say.”

  Robert shrugged. “We can’t make any arrests on what we have right now. But the man’s bank account pretty much matches the amount the Americans put up. And he reported a bank card stolen. If it proves that the bank card was used at the Internet Café in Glasgow where the site was formed…well, then we’ll have to bring him in for questioning, at the very least.”

  “Doesn’t make sense. He’d have to know he’d be caught.”

  “Aye, but there’s a certain defense in that, too. They’re trying to track his money now, as well. That will help. Naturally we need legal resources to do all that.” Robert leaned back. “You won’t see this one in the papers, because we’ve been keeping the inquiries quiet, but I’ve had my men go a lot deeper into the disappearance of the barmaid in Stirling.”

  Bruce frowned. “She’d cleaned out her room. She was packed up, bag and baggage.”

  “But no one knows where she went. She didn’t take a bus or a train. She’s just gone. Annie O’Hara could have gone back to Ireland, but I don’t believe that. And our boy, Thayer, was seen with the barmaid that same day.”

  “Wait, you’re accusing him of fraud—and of being a serial killer?”

  “I’m not accusing him of anything,” Robert said. “I’m telling you what we’ve got.”

  “It doesn’t gel,” Bruce said. “It sounds like grasping at straws.”

  “Straws are all we’ve got.”

  “With a good attorney, the man could skewer the force,” Bruce warned.

  “We can’t make an arrest. But since the fellow is living in your castle…”

  Bruce shook his head. “The fraud is one thing. But to assume the man might be a killer because he was in a pub…that’s pushing it, don’t you think?”

  Robert didn’t answer. “They’re coming,” he said. He and Bruce stood as the handsome American couple strode over to the booth.

  “Hello,” Bruce said, shaking hands along with Robert. “What did you think of the tour at the castle the other night?”

  “It was quite remarkable,” the woman said.

  Bruce stared at the man. The fellow didn’t look like a quack. “So, did you feel anything in the castle?” His words were polite, but he couldn’t keep his tone as cordial.

  “No, but then, I’m not the one who would,” the man said.

  “Matt is actually the sheriff in a town named for his family,” Robert explained.

  Bruce cast Robert a dry stare. Might have mentioned that before, old chap! But of course, Robert had refrained on purpose.

  “I didn’t ask them to meet about the castle,” Robert said.

  “No, of course not.”

  “It’s a beautiful place,” Darcy told him. She wasn’t obsequious, just pleasant. Still, he knew he had a chip on his shoulder regarding them.

  “Saturday, I’ve got men coming in from a number of the surrounding areas,” Robert explained. “We’re searching for the body of a woman almost certain to be a victim of a serial killer. I was hoping that you would be willing to search with my men.”

  “Of course,” Darcy said, glancing at her husband.

  “Naturally.” Matt glanced at his wife.

  Robert nodded. “Naturally,” he agreed.

  Darcy Stone looked across the table at Bruce. “You’ll be there, won’t you, Laird MacNiall?”

  “I will.”

  “Of course,” she said. “You feel a responsibility.”

  “The forest borders my castle.”

  She nodded. “It’s interesting, Laird MacNiall. You really haven’t spent much time at your castle in the last decade or so.”

  He arched a brow.

  “Well, there’s the place you have in New York and the horse farm up near Loch Ness. You even have an interest in a breeding facility in Kentucky.”

  Bruce stared at her levelly. “All that,” he murmured, “and you didn’t even ask to see
my palm.”

  He started to make a move, but she placed her fingers on his hand.

  “We, too, have access to the Internet, Laird MacNiall.”

  “Ah,” Bruce murmured, wondering why the couple made him feel as if he should be wearing full body armor. There really was no call for him to be rude. Robert wanted to see if they could help. It was on the wrong side of good sense as far as he was concerned, but they certainly appeared respectable enough. The woman was hardly dressed in black with a veil, nor did she carry a crystal ball. There was no reason to be so instantly hostile.

  He wasn’t so sure he liked the scrutiny they had put on his life, though. And he didn’t like the idea that Toni had called Harrison Investigations in the first place. Despite the fact that he believed her conviction that she’d never heard the story about the great MacNiall before, he was sure there was a logical explanation. There was surely even a logical explanation for her knowledge of the crypts. And it was pure luck and circum stance that she had come upon the remains of Annalise after the rainstorm.

  After all, it was luck and circumstance that he had caught the husband-and-wife team of killers, all those years ago.

  “The castle is your ancestral home,” Darcy Stone mused, “but it does seem as if you’ve spent years running away from it.”

  That was it, his cue to leave. He rose.

  “It’s been a pleasure,” he said, “but you will have to excuse me. I have some business in town. I’ll see you both Saturday, then. Robert, keep me informed.”

  He shook Matt Stone’s hand and strode out of the café, suddenly wishing to hell that he was in New York right then, on the streets somewhere, watching a flood of living, breathing, pierced-tongued, green-haired teens and young adults walk by in a hurry to get their next tattoos.

  Beyond the café, he paused. It felt as if he had shed a heavy overcoat, just being in the air again. He glanced around, considering a drop-in at Jonathan’s constabulary, then a visit to Daniel Darrow. He eschewed both ideas, staring up at the statue of his ancestor. Marble, some steel and God knows what else went into a statue.

  “Get out of my life!” he told the statue.

  “So, the old laird is in your life,” a soft voice said.

  He spun around, damning himself for not moving more quickly. Darcy Stone had followed him out.

  “Mrs. Stone, if you’ll forgive me—”

  “Please, just give me a moment of your time.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “A moment, then.”

  “First, Toni Fraser didn’t ask that we come.”

  “Why did you?”

  She wasn’t ready to answer that one. “There is a presence in your castle.”

  “There are a lot of presences. Americans,” he said.

  She smiled. “Laird MacNiall, you made one of the most brilliant cases and arrests in the crime annals. And then you left the force. Why?”

  He lifted his hands. “Because the work absorbed my life. I put off my wedding. My fiancée became terribly ill and died soon after that case was solved. I decided that I had put a little bit too much time into man’s inhumanity to man. Not that it’s really any of your business, but then, you seem to know everything else about me.”

  “Might that be only part of the reason?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do. I think you had a few moments during that case when you saw too clearly what the killers were doing. Maybe you even got into their skin—into their hearts and minds—far more than you wanted.”

  “Murder is ugly, Mrs. Stone.”

  “That’s why it should be stopped, whenever possible. Why killers should be taken away from the public, locked up,” she said.

  “Is that all, Mrs. Stone?”

  “No. I just wanted to say that if you want to talk, if there’s anything I can do…well, I would really love to help you.”

  He wanted to tell her that he didn’t need her help but he refrained. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I really would love to come back to your castle.”

  “I’ll consider it,” he told her. “Is that it?”

  She shook her head. “Just one more thing.”

  “Aye?”

  “You…you have real capabilities, I believe. If you’d let yourself use them.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, as well, Mrs. Stone. Now…if you’ll excuse me?”

  And he made a point of getting into his car.

  18

  Gina was in the kitchen with David and Kevin when Toni came down. The three of them were studiously poring over a document.

  “Toni,” Gina said. “Want to take a look at this? I’ve written up a new rental agreement. Well, it’s not exactly a rental agreement, since MacNiall will apparently be staying on his own property. And, of course, there’s no telling how long he’ll be willing to play his ancestor with our presentation. Anyway, I’m asking him for a six-month run. If we keep doing as well as we’ve been doing, we’ll be able to pay him for the facility—and even give him a cut for his participation—and come out with enough to look into going home and getting new work, or looking for another property.”

  Toni poured herself a cup of coffee, then leaned against the counter and said, “Gina, I’m sure you’ve written up a good agreement. But what we have to do now is get it to an attorney—and past Laird MacNiall.”

  Gina chewed on a thumbnail, reading over her own document. “I hope he’ll go for this. Otherwise, we’re just living day to day.”

  “Actually, we all just live day to day, no matter what,” Kevin said.

  “Sage, very sage,” Toni told him. “Where is everyone else?”

  “Bruce went somewhere in the car this morning, but he came back and went riding,” David told her. “Thayer muttered something and went out. Ryan is upstairs—he wants to drive into town and buy some kind of polish for his swords. Eban is…well, he’s being Eban, out doing whatever he does.”

  Gina glanced at her watch. “We should get going. We always spend more time in the village then we intend. Toni, want to come with us?”

  “No, I think I’ll hang around here.”

  David frowned at her. “You should come.”

  She smiled. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Ah, the nights are not enough!” he teased. “She’s awaiting the return of Laird MacNiall.”

  She forced another smile. “I have a book I want to read,” she told him.

  “Um,” Kevin teased. “The book of man. And it’s partially in Braille.”

  “You two are terrible,” she said.

  “I’d rather thought last night that there was some trouble in tranquil waters,” Gina said, looking at her somewhat sharply.

  That caused David and Kevin to study her, as well.

  “Oh?” she said.

  “I heard your voice when I came up. You sounded a little sharp,” Gina said. “Are you two arguing?”

  Toni shook her head.

  “Because we really need him to sign this agreement,” Gina reminded her.

  She sighed. “He will sign it, or he won’t sign it. I’m not arguing with him.”

  They heard singing and Ryan came bursting into the kitchen, doing a version of “Oklahoma.” He seemed cheerful. They all stared at him; he wasn’t known for his vocal ability.

  He stopped and stared back. “What?” he demanded. “Okay, so this is Scotland. Brigadoon! I feel a new song coming on.”

  “Let’s get out of here, please!” David begged. “Toni, come on. I’ll go read more headstones with you, if you want.”

  She laughed. “I’m fine here alone. I’ll walk you to the car.”

  They started to trail out, but when David opened the front door, they were startled to find Constable Jonathan Tavish standing there. He looked grim.

  “Constable,” Toni said. “Hello. Can we help you? Bruce isn’t here.”

  Jonathan shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry. I’ve not com
e to see Bruce.”

  “Then…how can we help you?” Ryan asked.

  “I’ve come for your cousin, Miss Fraser.” He hesitated a moment. “I’m truly sorry. I’ve come to arrest Thayer Fraser.”

  David was the one to gasp. “Why? For what?”

  Jonathan Tavish shifted uneasily on his feet. He truly looked miserable. “Fraud,” he said.

  “Wait! Please, explain this!” Toni said.

  “Is he here?” Tavish insisted.

  Toni shook her head. “He may be about…we don’t know where he is. But—”

  “I’m sorry to say this, folks, but he engineered the whole deal. Set you all up. He created a fictitious corporation on the Web and arranged for the box as an address. He probably presumed that you’d all be out after the MacNiall returned…you’d have to go home, broke, and he’d have managed to make himself long gone. It’s quite a surprise that he hasn’t flown already, but maybe he thought he’d covered his tracks.”

  “Thayer!” Toni exclaimed.

  “Your cousin?” Ryan said.

  “Now, now, we may be able to retrieve a bit o’ the money,” Jonathan said consolingly.

  Toni shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “You don’t want to believe it,” David murmured.

  “What kind of proof is there?” Toni demanded.

  “Enough for an arrest,” Jonathan told her quietly.

  “I still don’t believe it,” Toni said stubbornly.

  “Y’are not certain the chap isn’t about?” Jonathan asked.

  “He could be. We don’t know,” Ryan said. He stepped back. “Come in…I can check his room.”

  “I’ll take a look around upstairs,” Gina said, “while Ryan goes to his room.”

  Toni stood awkwardly for a moment, then thought that she might know where Thayer was. The stables. Up in the rafters. She didn’t know what he did up there. And maybe she didn’t want to know. But she did want to see him before the constable got to him, though.

  “I’ll…look around outside,” she said.

  She walked out the main doors, gazing toward the stables. Despite the fact that he’d actually warned her just yesterday that a trace had been made to Glasgow, she was stunned. You don’t want to believe it! That much was true.