Killer Dreams (13 page)

Sol Devlin hung up his phone.

Do what you were sent to do.

He could feel the pleasure begin to kindle within him. He hated to have Sanborne put restraints on him and sometimes he deliberately tried to avoid it by saying or doing something that would force him to release him. Most of the time Sanborne didn’t even realize that the slave was controlling him.

He smiled at the thought. He didn’t know if he could break free of Sanborne if he tried. He’d made an attempt once and it had been painful. Too painful when he didn’t even know if he wanted life without the purpose Sanborne had given him. He was well fed; he was provided women and drugs.

And he enjoyed what he did.

How much was conditioning? He didn’t care. The pleasure was there and that was what mattered. Like this moment, when anticipation was beginning to tingle through him at the thought of what was to come.

Soon. Within a few hours.

Devlin turned to stare at the croft several hundred yards below him.

“My mother is coming.” Michael slowly hung up the phone. “She said she’d be here in a few hours.”

MacDuff had been expecting that ever since last night, when Jock had told him about the death of Edmunds. “And how do you feel about that?” MacDuff asked quietly.

“Okay, I guess. She didn’t want to talk. She sounded…worried.”

“She has a right to be worried, from what you and Jock have told me.”

Michael’s gaze lifted. “But is there something else? Something you know but aren’t telling me?”

Should he lie to him? No, the boy had been through too much without adding deceit to the mix. “Yes, and I have no intention of telling you. It’s your mother who has that right.”

Michael frowned. “I don’t want to wait.”

“Too bad.” MacDuff smiled. “We don’t always get what we want.” He stood up. “But I’ll volunteer to take your mind off it. Want to come down to the Run and practice a little soccer?”

“It won’t take my mind off it.”

“Want to make a wager? I’ll work your ass so hard you won’t be able to think.” He turned to the door. “Come on, we’ll pick up Jock on the way down to the Run and make him play goalie.”

Michael hesitated. “You said you wanted me to go through these drawers and to see if I could find any old-looking papers.”

“You’re excused for today.” MacDuff was going out the door. “I need a little exercise….”

“What are those damn sheep doing in the middle of the road?” Sophie’s hands clenched on her lap. “Someone should be taking care of them.”

“The shepherd’s probably nearby. You have to make allowances in Scotland.” Royd carefully negotiated the sedan through the herd of sheep. “No big deal.”

“I know it’s not.” Sophie moistened her lips. “I guess I’m nervous. For God’s sake, don’t hit them.”

“Really? I’d never guess you were the least upset.” Royd hit the bright headlights. “There’s MacDuff’s Run up ahead.”

The castle was huge and intimidating and loomed over the countryside. It reminded Sophie of something out of
Ivanhoe.
“Then step on it. I have to see Michael.”

“You’re going to tell him tonight?”

“There’s no use putting it off. He has to hear about Dave from me.” She frowned. “I can’t be sure that someone won’t come bursting in and try to arrest me.”

“I think you can be sure that won’t happen,” Royd said. “From what Jock told me about MacDuff, he’s not one to be surprised.”

“I’m not sure about anything—Stop!” They’d almost hit one of the sheep that had run back into the road. She jumped out and shooed the animal to the side of the road and then got back into the car. “This is going to take us all night just to get to the gates.”

“I think we’re clear now.” Royd cautiously pressed the accelerator and the car moved down the road. “I’ll be careful of the livestock.”

“It’s not your fault. This place is in the back of beyond and I’m surprised MacDuff doesn’t have better—”

“Halt.” A guard had come out of the shadows at the gate of the castle. He was carrying an M-16, and as the car stopped he shone a flashlight into their faces. “Ms. Dunston?”

“Yes.” She shaded her eyes against the glare. “Turn that thing off.”

“In a moment.” He was checking a photograph in his hand. “Sorry.” He turned the flashlight aside. “I had to be sure. The Laird doesn’t suffer fools gladly. I’m James Campbell.”

“Where did you get the photo?”

“Jock.” He glanced at Royd. “Mr. Royd?”

Royd nodded. “Now will you step aside so that we can go inside?”

He shook his head. “The Laird said to send you to the Run when you got here. He and the boy are there.” He pointed to the right. “Get out and go around the castle toward the cliff.”

“I don’t like this.” Royd opened the door. “I’ll go, Sophie. You drive on inside the gates. I can’t see MacDuff risking letting Michael run around outside the gates.”

“Risk?” James Campbell’s tone was indignant. “No risk. The Laird is there.”

He might as well have said “Superman is there,” Sophie thought. Evidently the man had the same respect for the Laird that Jock did. The similarity was reassuring. “I’m going with you.” She got out of the car and joined Royd. “Is Jock with them?”

Campbell nodded.

“Then call him and tell him we’re coming,” Sophie said as she fell into step with Royd.

“You could let me handle this,” Royd said quietly.

“I could.” Her pace quickened. “But I doubt if there’s anything to handle. I don’t think any of Sanborne’s men would be camped right outside the gates.”

“And you want to see Michael as soon as possible.”

“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “I’m not looking forward to this and I want to get it over.”

He was silent. “Will you let me go ahead and check it out?”

“We’re in this together. I made the decision. If it’s some kind of trap, then—”

“Michael.”

She was Michael’s mother. She had to be alive to protect him. She drew a deep breath and stopped. “Okay. You do it. If you’re not back in five minutes, I’ll go back to the castle and dodge Campbell at the gate.”

“He’s not easy to dodge,” Jock said as he appeared on the path ahead of them. He was bare-chested and beaded with sweat, but he was smiling. “And if you succeeded, I’d have to dispose of the poor man.” He held up his hand and wrinkled his nose. “Hello, Sophie. I’d give you a hug but I’m fairly disgusting at present. MacDuff and Michael are running me ragged.”

“What?”

“Come ahead.” He turned and disappeared into the darkness.

She was frowning as she followed him. Running him ragged? What the devil was he talking about?

Then she came around the corner of the castle and saw the Run. It was a level stretch of ground bordered on either side by huge, smooth rocks.

And racing across it were Michael and a tall, dark-haired man as bare-chested and perspiration-coated as Jock. His hair was tied back by a kerchief. Both were panting, laughing, and looking as if they hadn’t a care in the world.

Sophie stared at them in shock. It wasn’t the Michael she had been picturing during this journey. He looked…free. She felt a rush of happiness and then a surge of dread as she realized that she was going to destroy that joy.

“Mom!” Michael had looked up and seen her. Then he was running toward her.

She fell to her knees as he launched himself at her. Her arms closed around him and held him tight. He smelled of salt and sweat and soap. God, she loved him. She cleared her throat. “What are you doing out here? Playing? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I was waiting for you.” He took a step back. “And the Laird doesn’t mind. He says football is good for the soul any time of the day or night.”

“I’m afraid I don’t agree.” She pushed his hair back from his forehead. “But you don’t look any the worse for wear.”

“I’m fine.” He glanced over his shoulder. “This is my mother. This is the Earl of Connaught, Lord of MacDuff’s Run. He has all kinds of other names but I can’t remember all of them. I guess we’ll have to stop now, sir.”

“Too bad.” The Laird was strolling toward them. “Delighted to meet you, Ms. Dunston. I hope you had an uneventful trip.”

“Yes. Until we ran into your herd of sheep wandering all over the road.”

He frowned. “Really?”

“Really.” She forced herself to release Michael. “I need to talk to my son alone. Will you leave us?”

“No.” MacDuff turned to Royd and offered his hand. “You’re Royd?”

“Yes.” He slowly reached out and shook MacDuff’s hand.

“Will you take Michael and Ms. Dunston back to the castle? I need to have a word with Jock. I’ll have him call James and tell him to show you your rooms.”

“Michael and I can talk here,” Sophie said.

MacDuff shook his head. “This place is special to him now. I won’t have it tainted. Talk to him somewhere else.” He turned away and moved toward Jock.

Arrogant bastard.

“Tainted?” Michael’s anxious gaze was fixed on her face.

Her arm went around his shoulder. “We’ll go back to the castle.”

“I knew something was wrong,” he whispered. “Tell me.”

“I’m not trying to keep anything from you,” she said gently. “But it seems I can’t talk to you here. Let’s go to your room.” She nudged him toward the path. “Royd?”

“I’ll be right behind you until you reach the castle and I know you’re safe. After that, you won’t want or need me, will you?”

She wanted to tell him she did need him. She’d grown accustomed to the companionship and strength she’d unconsciously leaned upon during these last days. But this had nothing to do with the tie that bound them together. This was between her and her son. She nodded as she moved up the path. “No, I won’t need you.”

Royd watched Sophie and Michael cross the courtyard toward the front door of the castle. Sophie’s shoulders were very straight, as if she were bracing herself for a blow. He had seen that stance before. It seemed she had taken nothing but bruising hits since the moment he had met her and accepted them with that same enduring strength.

As the door shut behind them, his hands clenched at his sides. God, he felt helpless. She was hurting and she was going to hurt more as she told Michael about his father.

Well, he could do nothing about it. He was the outsider. So smother this impulse to run after them, and do something useful. He turned and went back through the gates to where Jock, MacDuff, and Campbell, the guard, were talking.

He broke into the conversation. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

MacDuff raised his brows. “Problem?”

“The damn sheep. When Sophie told you about the sheep in the road, you reacted…It made you wary. And then you wanted to talk to Jock. What’s happening?”

“It could be coincidence, you know,” MacDuff said. “Perhaps I wanted to tell Jock to comfort Ms. Dunston in her time of need.”

“Bullshit.”

Campbell took a step forward. “You don’t talk to the Laird that way,” he said softly. “Do you want him gone, sir?”

“Easy, James. It’s all right,” MacDuff said. “Go and round up a few men and get back here in ten minutes.”

“You’re sure?” Campbell asked. “He’d be no trouble for me.”

Jock chuckled. “Don’t be so certain. He’d even be a bit of trouble for me, James.” He jerked his thumb at the castle. “Ten minutes.”

Campbell turned and strode through the gates.

“The sheep,” Royd repeated.

“Tell him,” Jock said to MacDuff. “We can use him if it’s what we think.”

MacDuff was silent a moment and then shrugged. “You’re right.” He glanced up the hill. “The sheep should never have been in the road. Those hills are my property, but I let Steven Dermot and his son run a small herd on it. His family has been permitted the right for generations. But Steven is very careful to respect my rights. I’ve never known him to let any of his herd wander onto my roads.”

Royd’s gaze followed his to the hill. “You check on Dermot.” He started to turn away. “And I’ll do some scouting.”

“No questions? No arguments about coincidences?” MacDuff asked.

“One of the first rules of my training was that anything out of the ordinary was suspect.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jock. “You coming with me?”

“I believe you can handle it.” He added quietly, “I grew up playing on those hills with Steven’s son, Mark. I’m going to the croft with MacDuff.”

Royd nodded. “If I don’t spot anyone, I’ll come back and cover you.”

“We’ll have James and several more to do that,” MacDuff said. “I could spare some men to go with you.”

“No, they’d get in my way.”

“They know the land.”

“They’d get in my way,” Royd repeated. “I don’t want to have to take care of anyone but myself.”

“Campbell and the others aren’t helpless,” MacDuff said. “They served with me in the Marines.”

“Good. You take them.” He took off down the road.

Was he being watched? Probably. But he’d be out of rifle range for several hundred more yards. Then he’d fade into the trees at the base of the hill….

“Crusty bastard,” MacDuff murmured as he turned back to Jock. “I believe I’m a bit pissed. He’d better be good. Is he always like that?”

“He’s good,” Jock said. “And, yes, he’s rude as hell. Maybe he’s a little more abrasive than usual. I think I detected a trace of frustration. Things aren’t going as he’d like them to go.”

“When do they ever?”

“But Royd is having to deal with Sophie Dunston and he doesn’t know what to make of her.” He shrugged. “Or maybe how to handle her. It offends his bulldozer ethics to have to stop and consider someone else when he only wants to get at Boch and Sanborne.” He glanced over MacDuff’s shoulder. “Here are James and the lads. Let’s get up to the croft.”

12

H
e was being watched.

Royd stopped in the shadow of a tree, listening.

The wind rustling the branches. The sound of the sheep baaing in the distance.

He glanced up the hill to the stand of trees at the top. If anyone was up there, then he’d be a target if he moved out of the cover of these pines and started to climb.

If anyone was up there. It wouldn’t be a position he would have chosen. It would give him a clear shot, but then there was a problem of getting down a hill almost clear of vegetation you could use for cover. Much better to stay here near the bottom of the hill, where cover was plentiful and the road close if you needed a quick getaway.

Besides, he could
feel
the bastard in the darkness.

Close. Damn close.

Did he have a rifle or a gun? He doubted it. If he did, he didn’t want to use them or he would have tried to take his shot before this. Royd had been moving fast, zigzagging through the trees, but a bullet was the fastest way to eliminate an enemy. He took a step to the side and then another into the moonlight before ducking back.

No fire. Nothing. Maybe he didn’t want the noise of gunfire.

But he was still there, waiting.

So Royd would wait too.

He drew closer to the tree. Three minutes. Four minutes.

Come on. Move. I’ll stay here all night, if I have to, bastard.

No sound but the wind…the sheep…

Another six minutes passed.

The slightest whisper of sound several yards from where he stood. A sort of slither…

Pythons slithered. But so did men when they were brushing against the branches of a tree.

Or were coming down from that tree.

He waited. Come to me.

How many minutes had passed since that silky slither of sound? Two? Three?

Time enough for that snake to make his way to where Royd stood.

Don’t move. Don’t let him know that you’re aware he’s coming for you.

No sound of footsteps. The bastard was good.

He could feel the back of his neck tense.

Behind him. Every nerve, every instinct was screaming at him. He slowly turned his head.

Closer.

He caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Now!

He fell to the ground and brought his legs around in a sweeping kick at the legs of the man a yard away.

He brought him down.

He got an impression of a short, compact man before the son of a bitch rolled away and threw the knife in his hand.

Royd instinctively lifted his arm.

Pain.

Royd could feel the blade slice into the muscle in his forearm. He pulled the blade out and threw it back. He saw the blade enter the man’s shoulder.

“Royd?” My God, the bastard was laughing. “Sanborne didn’t tell me. What a pleasure.”

Jesus, Devlin.

Devlin tilted his head, listening. “Oh my, but I may have to cut this short. We’re being interrupted. What a pity.” He rolled over and scooted behind a tree.

Royd drew his gun and moved after him.

Christ, he was bleeding like a stuck pig. No time to bind the wound.

He caught a glimpse of Devlin zigzagging down the hill. He aimed and fired.

Missed. Devlin had dodged behind another tree.

The sounds of movement on the hill that had spooked Devlin were closer. Jock and MacDuff?

Devlin was moving through the trees at an incredibly fast pace for a wounded man.

Too fast.

The blood was pouring out of Royd’s arm. He could end up dead if he didn’t stop it.

Shit.

Try another shot at the bastard?

Out of range.

He stopped and cursed with frustration. Okay, give it up. There would be another time. With Devlin there was always another time.

Get Jock and MacDuff up here and get the wound patched fast. Maybe they could go after Devlin.

Not that they’d catch him if he had this much of a head start. Devlin was too good.

Worry about that later.

He raised the gun in his hand and shot into the air. Then he pressured the pulse point above the wound and waited for Jock.

“It’s not good. You should see a doctor.” Jock finished wrapping the makeshift bandage around Royd’s arm. “You’ve lost some blood.”

“Later. I’ve had worse.” He got to his feet. “I just had to get the damn blood stopped.” He reached for his phone. “And I’ve got to call Sophie and make sure she’s okay.”

“She and Michael will be fine,” Jock said. “The castle is guarded like a fortress. And only a madman would go after them right after you flushed him out of hiding.”

“Exactly.” He dialed Sophie’s number. She answered on the third ring. He felt a rush of relief.

“How’s Michael?”

“What do you think?” She paused. “And you didn’t call me to ask how my son was doing. Where are you?”

He didn’t answer. “I’ll be back soon. There was a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“It’s over now. I’ll talk to you later. Go back to Michael.” He hung up.

She was angry and frustrated and that disconnect would be the last straw. Tough. He didn’t have time for explanations.

“I told you she’d be fine,” Jock said. “MacDuff wouldn’t have left her if he weren’t sure of that.”

“Okay, okay. You’ll forgive me if I don’t have the faith in MacDuff that you do. I had to be sure.”

“You actually thought there was a chance Devlin would go after her tonight?”

“If he thought he had even a tiny chance of getting to Sophie and Michael, he’d take it. He likes to walk on the edge.” He watched MacDuff and five of his men coming out of the woods. “You didn’t get him,” he called to MacDuff. “I told you it was a waste of time. He probably had a car parked close by and is halfway to Aberdeen by now.”

“I called ahead to the magistrate and gave him the description you gave me,” MacDuff said. “They’ll be on the lookout for him. We have a chance.”

Royd shook his head. “Not much of one. He knows his business.”

“Garwood?” Jock asked.

Royd nodded. “One of the best. Or worst, depending on how you look at it.” He was silent a moment. “Have you gone to the croft yet?”

MacDuff shook his head. “We were on our way when we heard the shot.” He motioned to Campbell and the men behind him. “Go back to the castle. We’ll take care of it.”

“There may not be anything to take care of,” Royd said. “I don’t think Devlin would have anyone with him. He likes to work alone. But I’ll go with you.”

MacDuff shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He turned and started back up the hill with his men following.

Jock didn’t move, his gaze narrowed on Royd’s face. “Nothing to take care of?” he repeated.

“I misspoke,” Royd said. “With Devlin there’s always something to take care of.”

“What?”

God, he was dizzy, Royd thought as he moved after MacDuff. “The cleanup.”

Sophie hung up the phone. Damn Royd. She didn’t need this. Something was happening and she was being left—

“Mom.”

She turned back to the bed. Forget Royd. This was her job tonight.

“Coming.” She put the phone back on the table and crossed the room to him. “It was nothing. Just Royd checking on us.” She slipped into bed and pulled him close. “He asked about you.”

“I’m okay.”

He wasn’t okay. He had taken the news with the shock she had known he would. “That’s what I told him.”

He was silent a moment. “Why?” Michael whispered. The tears were running down his cheeks. “Why Dad, Mom?”

“I told you.” Sophie tried to keep her voice steady. “I’m not sure. But I think it has to do with what I’m doing, Michael. I never dreamed it would impact your father. But if you want to blame me, I won’t argue with you.”

“Blame you?” He buried his face in her shoulder. “You’re only trying to make sure those bad guys get stopped. It was them.” His hands clenched on her shirt. “I…loved him, Mom.”

“I know you did.”

“I feel…ashamed. Sometimes I got mad at him.”

“Did you?” She stroked his hair. “Why?”

“He made me feel…He didn’t want me around. Not really.”

“Of course he did.”

He shook his head. “I was in the way. And I was a bother to him. I think he thought I was…crazy.”

“That’s not true.” But a boy as sensitive as Michael would have picked up on those vibes Dave had sent. “And it wasn’t your fault.”

“I was a bother to him,” he repeated.

“Listen to me, Michael. When a man and woman have a child, it’s their duty to stand by him no matter how difficult it becomes. It’s their job. That’s what a family is all about. You did everything you could to cope with the problem you have and he should have been there for you. He was the one at fault, not you.” She hugged him closer. “So stop thinking about blame. Think about the good times with him. I remember when he got you that toy Hummer when you were five and the two of you played with it all day. Do you remember that day, Michael?”

“Yes.” The tears were falling heavier. “Are you sure I didn’t make him unhappy?”

“No, you didn’t. When someone dies, the first thing anyone does is wonder if they’d been good enough to him.” Those were almost the words Royd had said to her this morning, she realized. “Well, you were good enough. You have my word on it.”

“Sure?”

“Sure.” It was a strange world, she thought sadly. Last night she had lain in Royd’s arms and taken comfort from him. Tonight she was lying here in bed and giving that comfort to her son. It was like a circle that never stopped. Jesus, she wanted the need for that comfort to stop. “Will you try to sleep? I’m not going to leave you, I promise.”

“You don’t have to stay.” But his arms tightened around her. “I’m not a baby. And I never want to be a duty to you. Not like I was to Daddy.”

Damn it. She had said it all wrong. “Duty isn’t a bad thing. When it’s to someone you love, it can be a joy.” She kissed his cheek. “You’re a joy, Michael. My joy. Never doubt it….”

There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the table, a rivulet running from beneath the closed door across the room.

MacDuff stood in the doorway of the small croft and began to curse.

“Cleanup,” Royd murmured as he gazed over MacDuff’s shoulder at the blood-smeared chaos.

“Shut up,” MacDuff said roughly. “James, how many people are living here now?”

“Old Dermot, his wife, his son. His son brought his little girl back from Glasgow when he got his divorce.” James moistened his lips. “That blood…Do you want me to go check the rooms?”

“No, I’ll do it.” He strode across the room and threw open the door. He froze. “Oh, Christ.”

Jock and Royd followed him.

“Sweet Jesus,” Jock said, his gaze on the carnage. “Dermot?”

“It’s hard to tell.” MacDuff’s voice was hoarse. “Someone almost cut off his face.” He moved into the room. “And they didn’t stop with Dermot.”

A woman lay on the floor. Gray-haired, thin, brown eyes staring sightlessly up at them. Blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth.

“Margaret, Dermot’s wife.” Jock’s lips tightened. “Son of a bitch.” His glance roamed the room. “Where’s Dermot’s son, Mark, and the child?”

“Maybe they got away.” James Campbell’s face was white. “God, I hope they got away.”

“Look for them,” Royd said. “Search the rest of the croft and the grounds. I hope you’re right, but Devlin rarely lets a target slip out of reach.”

“A child?” Campbell asked. “A child wouldn’t be a—”

“Look for them,” Jock said.

Campbell nodded jerkily and strode out of the room.

Jock dropped to his knees beside Dermot, gazing down at the ruin of the old man’s face. “This is over the top. He took some time. An example or does he just like it, Royd?”

“He likes it,” Royd said. “Even before he went through REM-4, he was a killer. Sanborne chose him because he thought he would take to the training better.” He turned to MacDuff who was standing looking down at Dermot. “I’ll get him for you.” His lips twisted. “No, I’ll get him for myself. I stuck a knife in him and he’s not going to forget it. The crazy bastard has a long memory.”

“So do I.” MacDuff’s lips were tight. “And I’m the one who’s going to cut the nuts off this son of a bitch. Dermot was one of mine.” He whirled on his heel. “Let’s go and find Dermot’s son.”

They met Campbell coming toward the house.

“The well.” He swallowed as he nodded to the stone well some distance away. “He’s on the other side of the well.”

“Dead?” MacDuff asked.

Campbell nodded. “There must be fifty stab wounds in his body.”

MacDuff was silent for a moment. “The little girl?”

“We think she’s in the well. We shone a light down there.” He swallowed again. “Or parts of her are in the well. He must have…butchered her.”

MacDuff muttered a curse beneath his breath and started toward the well.

“You don’t have to check it, sir. He’s Dermot’s son.” Campbell was on his heels. “I know him. I couldn’t make a mistake.”

“I don’t doubt you,” MacDuff said. “I just have to see them.”

“Why?” Royd asked as he and Jock caught up with him. “Dead is dead, MacDuff.”

“I need to remember.” MacDuff had reached the well and was gazing down at the man lying on the ground. “Time tricks us. Hatred can fade unless it’s fanned, and memory is the best fuel. You may not understand, but I don’t want to ever forget what Devlin did, even if years pass before I get my hands on him.”

“Oh, I understand,” Royd said.

MacDuff looked at him. “I believe you do.” He braced himself and then shone his flashlight down into the well. He turned off the flashlight. “You’re right, James.” His voice was husky. “He butchered her.” He reached for his telephone. “I’m calling the magistrates. Leave a man up here to meet them, Jock. The rest of us are going back to the castle.”

“I’ll stay,” Jock said. “I don’t want to leave him just now. He was my friend. What do I tell the magistrates?”

“Nothing. A random psychopath.” MacDuff turned away from the well. “I don’t want them to get in my way.” He started back toward the cottage.

Royd watched him as he motioned for Campbell and the men to follow him. “He’s pretty impressive,” he said. “He really means to go after Devlin.”