Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series) (6 page)

Slowly, I stepped forward, saw Vaughn’s subtle head shake and held my place. He’d seen me from his stance at the glass case of dragons, and only he was aware that I stood in the doorway. He sipped coffee, walked slowly toward the two riled men, and murmured, “Gentleman, surely your mother’s will shall clear up all the issues you are upset over?”

Smythe was quick to say, “Exactly, this is a difficult time for everyone concerned, so why not cast your differences aside until the funeral is over and the will is read. All shall be explained then.”

A harrumph issued from Charles. My father turned when Mrs. Douglas happily remarked more food had arrived, and he saw me step aside as the woman strode across the floor. She set a tray filled with tiny sandwiches, petite pastries, and a bowl of crisps on the library table, then motioned us to indulge in the repast.

Dad’s gaze flicked to my right and I followed it. Somehow, Vaughn now stood at my side, instead of across the room. As I said, things were on the weird side. The gleam in Vaughn’s eyes threw me off a bit as I didn’t understand what it meant, and I joined my father. A sudden chill had taken me by surprise as had the animosity among my family members. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Charles and Dad would square off, but I’d hoped to have a day of peace before the funeral took place.

My sweater hung over a chair. I slung it over my shoulders, grabbed a few sandwiches and sought the tranquility of the outdoors. The quickness of my actions didn’t go unmissed because I soon found Vaughn close on my heels.

“I don’t need a chaperone, thank you,” I remarked as he drew abreast of me.

“I’m well aware of that, though I did want to speak with you in private,” he said softly and guided me toward one of the woven sofas on the edge of the patio.

The sandwiches were soon gone, I dusted crumbs from my clothes, and waited patiently while Vaughn stared off into the trees. Other than the breeze that whispered through the pines and the sound of birds chirping, all was quiet.

“You’ll have a fight on your hands should you inherit the estate and aren’t willing to give up ownership. I’m concerned over who will become dragon keeper. Neither of those two is fit for the job. I believe Charles will take all this away from you by way of intimidation tactics, should you become the new owner.  By the way, your grandmother was never
nuts,
as he so rudely put it.”

My gaze on his, I said in a dry tone, “Let him try.”

“You spent enough time with the Americans to have taken on some of their “go-to-hell” attitudes. Good for you, that strength will be sorely tested, I’m sure.”

“What makes you think I spent time with Americans? I was only in Boston for a day.”

“Come now, Linty, your grandmother told me all about your studies at private school and then at Harvard University. I know more about you than you think,” he said smoothly.

My pulse quickened at the inflection in his voice, which meant he knew a lot more than simply that I’d studied at Harvard. I wondered how much he knew.

“Oh, yeah, there’s that. Having taken on a lot of American traits from my fellow students, I always yearned to be back in Scotland. There’s really no place like this.” I swept my arm out to encompass the estate and tilted my head back to inhale the sweet scent of pine.

Before he could say more, the rear door opened. Mrs. Douglas poked her head around the frame and said, “You’d better come inside. I think there’s about to be a brawl.”

We both hurried through the kitchen and entered the family room. Mr. Smythe stood between my aunt and uncle as they faced my father. All hell had broken loose and Smythe looked like a referee in a boxing ring. I stopped short, stood back from the group and watched as Smythe and Cullen made short work of the argument.

“What’s going on here?” Cullen asked.

Smythe, looking relieved to have help, said, “These three can’t seem to stop counting their hens. It’s time everyone left and gave Ms. Dragon some space.” He glared at my uncle and raised a hand to stop him for speaking. “All this bickering is unnecessary, I refuse to read the will until tomorrow, no matter how much you insist. It was Essie’s wish, and by God, she shall have things her way to the last.”

His heavy mustache bristled and seemed to flutter as would bird wings, while Aunt Elizabeth gently pulled Uncle Charles away. He glared at the solicitor with cold eyes, though Smythe seemed unbothered by it.

My father shooed him away like a pesky gnat and said to Mr. Smythe, “Good man, you’re right, of course. Linty must still be suffering from jet lag and sadness over the loss of Mother. They were very close. I apologize for our actions, and will take my leave now.” He came toward me, gave me a light embrace and whispered, “If you need anything, call me.”

I gave him a quick nod and watched him walk away. My father was the last person I’d call upon, though he was a good man. Close to me? Never. He’s been too flighty to settle in one place for long, which meant I’d spent the better part of my life in private schools so he’d be free to wander. I’d have lived with Gran, but for some reason that discussion had been prohibited. If the two of them ever discussed my living on the estate, I was unaware of it. On vacations and other visits, I’d never asked if I could move in for fear of being rebuffed. In the end, I simply treasured the time I could stay with Gran and the dragons.

My mother had passed away when I was three years old. I had no strong memories of her, and no one had talked about her, either. My philosophy concerning that loss was you couldn’t miss what you never had. Though I was somewhat envious when other schoolmates had visits from their parents, especially their mothers, I had Gran waiting for me here, and that was good enough.

My aunt and uncle took their leave shortly after my father drove off. Smythe and Vaughn, who both lingered as if they had unfinished business, assumed the other would leave first. I’d had enough squabbling for one day and wasn’t about to put up with much more nonsense, so I asked them both to sit down and offered them a glass of whiskey.

Smythe glanced at his watch. I laughed and said, “It must be five o’clock in the afternoon somewhere in the world, right?”

Both men grinned and acknowledged a drink would be fine. I handed out glasses of whiskey, stared into my glass of amber-colored liquid and then toasted Essie. “To my Gran, may she rest in peace and not be too disappointed in this family.”

A chuckle and a “hear, hear” met my words and we all slugged down the strong liquor. I asked if they’d like a second and was assured they didn’t. I took a seat across from the men and said, “Apparently you both have something to say, so get on with it. I have things to attend to and can’t sit around all day.”

Smythe glanced at Vaughn and then looked at me. “You may have a bit of a fight on your hands, Linty. Rest assured, the will can’t be broken, but the three of them, your father, Charles and Elizabeth can make the situation uncomfortable for you should you decide to stay on. I want you to know that Essie was serious when she wrote them out of ownership, and she was most adamant about your getting the lion’s share of her fortune.”

My spine stiffened and I straightened up in the chair. “How much money are you talking about?” I asked softly.

“Millions of pounds,” he answered.

I could feel my mouth hang open and my eyes felt as though they’d bug out as I stared disbelievingly at the man. “Wh-what?”

“Didn’t you know how wealthy Essie was?” Smythe asked.

“No, money was never discussed. I thought she was financially comfortable, but again, money was not up for discussion. Gran always said it was in poor taste to discuss money matters. I do know my father has a trust fund he lives off of.” I snickered. Both men glanced at one another as if they weren’t sure whether my marbles had gone missing, and they said nothing.

“It’s just that my father has never worked a day in his life, so he has always lived off his trust fund. I once heard Gran tell Dad that he’d have to manage his funds well, since she refused to give him any more money. The conversation went downhill from there, and I left the room while the going was good.”

Smythe nodded with understanding. “Yes, yes, she did tell me that. Once the will is read, how do you plan to handle your family?”

I shrugged and said I hadn’t thought about it.

As he leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and lightly clasped his hands together, Vaughn exclaimed, “I’m glad to know you will be the dragon keeper, Linty, but you’d better give some thought to how touchy your family will be over Essie’s appointment of you.”

I hesitated, wondering if I should tell them of Gran’s letter. Surely Mr. Smythe wouldn’t have harmed Gran, let alone kill her. With a deep breath, I figured I’d better be open about it and said, “I know. My grandmother left a letter for me with Mrs. Douglas. Gran says she was murdered by someone. Do you know anything about that, Mr. Smythe?”

Smythe gave a start. Cullen sat back with a dangerous gleam in his narrowed eyes.

In a dither, Smythe asked, “Could I see the letter?”

“I take it that you weren’t aware of it, then?” I sighed, got up and pulled the letter from the desk drawer. I gave them the page where she surmised she’d been poisoned and knew her death was imminent.

The sheet of paper was passed to and fro, turned sideways as each man read my scribbled notes in the margins. Finally they handed it back to me.

As I took it from Smythe, he said, “Nothing showed up in the toxicity screen when Essie’s blood was drawn at the hospital. If she was murdered, and I’m not sure she was, then how was she poisoned? The blood work would surely have shown abnormalities.”

While he spoke, I could see Cullen’s head slightly move back and forth, as though there was an internal conversation going on. I asked, “What do you think, Cullen?”

“You could be right, she must have figured it out and wrote it to you privately so as not to appear as though she’d gone round the bend. Keep the information safe and to yourself, Linty,” Cullen warned without addressing Smythe’s remarks.

“There’s more, but I haven’t figured out the remainder of her ramblings and handwriting. Should I get to it, I’ll let you both know. Could you have the lab run a second set of tests for me? More in-depth than the last one, maybe look for other things a simple test wouldn’t pick up?”

As Smythe rose from the sofa, he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “This is quite distressing, Linty. I’ll stop by the hospital and ask about the tests, if you’re certain there should more. Do keep me up to date, won’t you? I must leave, I have appointments this afternoon, you understand. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning. Until then, stay calm and don’t allow anyone to intrude on your time.” He gave me a slight nod and left.

We watched him close the door. Vaughn turned to me. “Linty, be careful. You’re about to fall under enormous pressure that I’m not sure you’re ready to handle.”

“All I know is that I’m exhausted and when that happens, I get cranky. If you don’t mind, I could use some alone time right about now, but thanks for the warning.”  I turned to the dragons and wandered over to them.

“I’ll let you rest then, but I’ll be back to take you to dinner around seven. Be ready,” Cullen ordered.

I glanced up, gave him an amused look and said, “What are you, my bodyguard?”

He dipped his head. “Until everything is straightened out, yes, I am.” With that terse remark, he walked out the door without a backward glance.

I sighed, wished I was in any position other than this one, and smoothed my fingers over Drake’s scales. “You know what’s going on, don’t you?”

“We’ll deal with it together. No fears.”

Golden eyes glowed with fire, a tiny tendril of smoke wafted from his nostrils. Staring at the gorgeous creature, I stepped back. How would we manage that? I shook my head and walked away.

I called to Mrs. Douglas that I planned to take a nap, and marched up the stairs, once again noting the complaint of the fifth step. Hopefully by the weekend, after everyone left me on my own, I’d fix that tread once and for all.

Chapter 5

Rest was the last thing that would happen as I flopped onto the soft mattress and closed my eyes while thoughts rushed to take the place of sleep. Who had killed Gran and why? How had it been done? Why hadn’t the poison shown up in the lab tests? What was Cullen’s real interest here? Would he try to wrest the dragons from me? Would Charles and Elizabeth do the same? What was Smythe’s stake in it all? The man seemed unwavering in his belief that if Gran had been poisoned, the toxicology screen would have noted it. While he hadn’t dismissed the possibility, he hadn’t embraced it either. He’d worked on her behalf for so long, why would he take such an attitude?

Annoyed to think I had all these questions, no feasible answers, and jet lag to top it off, I remained wide awake. Thoughts of the key, for the locked door at the end of the corridor, popped into my head. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went in search of it. From the look of the door set, the key would undoubtedly be an old fashioned one. Where would Gran have kept it?

In her room, I sat at her dressing table, slowly gazed at the dresser, the pictures on the walls and any possible place she could have tucked a skeleton key. With a hefty measure of guilt over poking through things that had belonged to Gran, I took a deep breath, threw caution to the wind and justified my actions that by finding the key, I might find her killer. Satisfied with that justification I realized everything here belonged to me now anyway.

Tiny dresser drawers were packed with oddments that looked to be ages old. Victorian hair combs, filigree brooches, bits of ribbon and such, filled three of them. I felt underneath each drawer in case the key was secured there. Nothing. I’d gone through four more drawers when I decided to take them out of the dresser completely. Still nothing. Damn. Disappointed, I slid them back in place and rifled through the closet.

Old and new clothing neatly hung on padded hangers. A few fancy dresses, harking back to days of old, were set at one end of the closet while slacks and shirts filled the rest of it. I smiled as I realized I hadn’t seen this type of hanger in years, but they fit Gran’s personality perfectly.