The Presence (12 page)

T
oni awoke early; Bruce was gone. She lay quietly for several moments, wondering if he had merely returned to his own room.

She didn't think so. Oddly, she was certain that he had left the castle.

Looking at her wristwatch, she saw that it was just eight. Though she wished she had slept longer, she was antsy and anxious to be up. With a groan, she rose and headed into the shower. She hesitated at the connecting door, then tapped lightly and pressed it open. As she had sensed, Bruce wasn't there.

She showered and dressed, then decided on a cup of coffee. But going down the stairs, she realized that she was resentful. The castle was silent; the others were all managing to sleep.

In the kitchen, she put on a large pot of coffee, thinking that she'd leave it for whoever stumbled down next. The coffee had barely brewed when she heard a thunderous banging that made her jump a mile. She realized instantly that it was only the front door. Apparently the laird of the castle had remembered to lock the door when he left.

She hurried to the door and threw it open. The con
stable, looking quite nice and casual in jeans and knit sweater, was standing there. “Morning, Miss Fraser. Is Bruce around?”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

Jonathan Tavish sighed. “His car isn't about, but after the drive up, I thought I should give it a try.”

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

He shook his head and frowned slightly, looking concerned. “Everything is all right, eh?”

“Fine, thank you. It's going well. Bruce has actually been very decent.”

He remained at the door. She hesitated.

“I just made coffee. Would you like some?”

“Actually, that would be wonderful.”

“Come in, please.”

He followed her to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. Just then David came in, yawning, scratching cheeks with a sign of morning shadow. He stopped short, seeing the constable.

“Ah, morning!” he said.

“Good morning,” Jonathan said.

David stared at Toni. “Is…there anything wrong?”

“No, the constable was just looking for Bruce, but he's…” She shrugged. “He's off somewhere.”

“Ah.” David grinned. “Well, Constable, excuse my appearance.”

“Call me Jonathan, please, and I'm the one interruptin' here.”

Toni set out the coffee, sugar and cream. “I'll grab some scones,” David told her.

“Thanks,” she murmured. Actually, the last thing she wanted this morning was a guest for breakfast.

“Well, Jonathan,” David said, stirring his own coffee, “it seems we will be around for a bit.”

“Aye?” Jonathan seemed surprised.

“Our host has agreed to let us make up some of what we've spent,” Toni explained.

“Ah,” Jonathan murmured. “Well, then, that's fine.”

“Good morning!” Gina called cheerfully, strolling into the kitchen, dressed in a robe, as well. She, too, stopped short at the sight of Jonathan. “Hi! Is…anything wrong?”

Jonathan smiled, shaking his head. “No, not at all.”

“He stopped by to see Bruce,” David explained this time.

“Who isn't here,” Toni added.

“Ah, I see.”

“Well, I've just heard you'll be around a bit,” Jonathan said.

“Yes, isn't it great!” Gina said cheerfully. “Bruce has been wonderful, really. Not just tolerating us, but helping us!”

“I admit to being surprised,” Jonathan said. “But then, as you're aware, he comes and goes as he pleases, sometimes on a whim.” He shook his head ruefully. “In deed, when I saw you all about town, I was surprised that he'd rented out the castle, but I honestly couldn't have said that he hadn't done so. Strange situation, though, eh? And a bit of a frightening one. In this day and age of computers and machines, some awful things can happen. We had a young woman a few years back who was in dire trouble, indeed. Someone stole her pass port, and with it, her identity. Before it was all straightened out, she was wanted for a bank robbery in Cannes!”

“Identity theft!” David said, nodding sagely. “I wonder if…if that's what happened!”

“We'll get to the bottom of it,” Jonathan assured them.

“I hope!” Gina said. She smiled. “Bruce really has been great. All he's asked is that we make sure to stay out of the forest. He's so concerned about what's been going on in Scotland—the women disappearing and being murdered,” she murmured. “I'm afraid that, in the States, we're far too accustomed to such horrible things happening. When it's not right in your own back yard, well…”

Jonathan was staring at them strangely, looking a little ashen.

“What is it?” Toni asked.

“He asked you to stay out of the forest, did he now?”

“Yes. Why, is there something bad in the woods?” David asked.

“I'd have thought that y'd 'ave known,” he said softly.

“Known what?” Gina demanded.

“You see, the bodies of the murdered lasses were found in Tillingham Forest.” He grimaced. “Not quite the backyard, but…close enough,” he ended softly.

Toni, Gina and David stared at one another. “Both bodies?” murmured Gina.

“Indeed.”

“But the girls weren't from here,” Toni said.

“No, they were not. And…well, they were a different sort than yourselves,” he assured her. “Still, not a bad idea to stay out of the forest, as Bruce said.”

“I'll stay out of it all right,” Gina said.

Jonathan still looked uncomfortable.

“There's something more,” Toni said, her tone determined as she watched him.

“Well, I can see why it makes Bruce so uncomfortable. Y'see, it was he that found one of the poor lasses.”

 

Hell, it was bloody early, Thayer thought. Eleven o'clock. Well, bloody early for him to start drinking, any way.

Fuck it. He'd already been awake for hours. He'd left himself right after he'd seen Bruce pull away from the castle, and that had been hours ago now. Early? No, plenty late enough.

“Aye, give me a pint, luv,” he said to the barmaid. He'd come for the Sunday roast, or so he had thought. But he wasn't hungry, he'd discovered, once he'd chosen the Silver Crow, a dark, somewhat aging pub in Stirling. Most pubs in Stirling were aging, he determined with wry humor. But then…this one was struggling, he thought. It was very dark within, the floors needed to be swept and the tables all carried a thin layer of grease. And there was but the one harried barmaid, and a number of locals, demanding better service.

There was much about Stirling to be admired. It was a beautiful city, with progressive people and an air of the present. And the huge castle welcomed visitors from all over. Fairly recent improvements had made the place quite charming, in truth. Mannequins in period costume, all going about their period business, displayed some of history's darkest moments along with some of the finest.

“We were damned bloody, bloody bastards, through it all!” he muttered.

“Pardon?” the barmaid said.

“Nothing, luv, just talking to myself.”

He smiled. At least the barmaid was attractive. She was in a little black halter shirt, and wore black shorts, as well. The way they hugged her rear end didn't leave much to the imagination. And what they did was mighty graphic.

Maybe that's how this place was surviving. Dingy lighting and dirty floors were okay if a bloke could have himself that kind of a view.

He looked around. The tables were mostly empty; the bar was full. Aye, folks around here came for the view.

His stomach growled. He'd taken off that morning without a bite to eat, aware that the great laird of the castle had vacated it early, as well. Hell, it seemed the man needed to escape his own place. But then again, it appeared he'd escaped it often enough in the past. Thayer looked at his hands. Raw. They'd put work into it, all right. He hadn't realized how much work there'd be when he agreed to their mad scheme. But the piano bars of Glasgow hadn't been quite a dream fulfilled. He'd had a few pounds and, under his circumstances, given his
habits,
thought why the hell not. There had been so many very interesting directions in which to take the idea.

“Think I'll have me a wee bite to eat,” he told the barmaid.

She flashed him a smile. She was young, and still had a kind of innocence about her—despite the shorts.

“Good. The roast is not so bad, really, sir,” she said.

Sir. He liked that.

He took a seat in the back, unnoticed by the rest of the clientele. A few moments later, the barmaid came over. She smiled at him again. Why, bless her, she was flirting. She kept flashing him something of a blush and something of an invitation as she laid out silver, a napkin, salt and pepper. He mused over his own assets. He wasn't bad-looking, really. He even had a look of his American cousin about him, since his hair was a tawny color—full and rich and all there, thank you very much! His features were not badly assembled, and he had some decent height, too, though he'd often rued the fact that his shoulders were never really going to fill out—not like those on Ryan or the great Bruce.

Pity that he had so many of the same characteristics as Toni. The night he'd met her—she with all her unbound enthusiasm to have actually found a family member!—he'd been smitten. Those deep blue eyes were something else entirely on Toni. She'd been electric, with her slim, natural elegance and her total vitality. She'd made him quicken all over. But he'd realized soon enough that she'd wanted a cousin. What he'd wanted, what he'd needed… The barmaid's shorts came to mind again.

Maybe that was why Toni's scheme had looked so good. He'd thought time spent with her might change the way she saw him. It hadn't changed anything for him. He'd been fascinated by her more every moment they shared. She had talent and a passion. She could dig into hard work, just as she could wane rapturously about a dream. When her hair brushed his fingers, when she gave him her smile, eyes brightening…

But then, there had been MacNiall. Even as Toni faced off with the fellow, any fool could see that the sparks were about to ignite.

Fuck MacNiall. Thinking about him was damned irritating.

Sometimes Thayer hated being British, and he loathed being Scottish. Many centuries had gone by, yet too often they were considered something of a lesser country by their neighbor—good old England! Wars, and the fact that they shared an island and pacts, be damned. Underneath, it was still there. They still groveled so over any old bloke with a title before his name!

“Your roast, sir.” The pretty little barmaid was back. She hovered after she put the plate down.

Not bad. Not bad at all. It was those shorts….

“I'm Thayer,” he told her. “What's your name?”

“Katherine,” she said. “Katie, to me pals.”

“Katie, then, nice to meet you.”

She glanced back at the bar. Another girl had joined the workforce there. She was older, tougher looking, someone who'd worked pubs for a few years, no doubt.

“I'm on break,” Katie said.

He angled his head, smiling. “So, can you join me, luv?”

Her smiled deepened. She'd been waiting for the invitation. Ah, so his shoulders weren't what they might have been, but he seldom had trouble with women.

She took the seat opposite him. “What brings you to Stirling?”

“I'm looking for a bit of excitement.”

“In Stirling?”

He shrugged. “It was close enough.”

“You're out in one of the villages, eh? Sounds like you come from Glasgow.”

“That I do,” he told her. He took a bite of his roast. It was good.

“And you, Katie? You're from Stirling?”

She shook her head. “Orkney.”

He arched a brow. “Talk about a need for excitement! So, have you found any in Stirling?”

“I've only been here a few days.” She leaned closer. “And the bloke what owns this place…what a jerk! I think I'll do better heading for Edinburgh, or Glasgow. They say there's some life going on there, at least.”

“Katie, life is where we find it. All along the road.”

She smiled and proved to be more of an aggressive little vixen than he had imagined. “Think that you could show me some life along that road?” she queried.

He hadn't realized that her hands were beneath the table until he felt her fingers squeezing his knee.

He placed his fork down, crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed her with definite interest and amusement. “Katie, lass, you can't begin to imagine what I can show you along the road.”

“I'd love to see,” she said.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe we could meet later.”

There was a breath of excitement in her voice. “Maybe we could!” She rose quickly. “I'm off at two. So I shouldn't be seen sitting here with you…if we're going to get together later.”

“Good thought,” he told her gravely. “Very good thought.”

“Meet me down by the graveyard?”

“Perfect,” he told her.

 

Jonathan's information regarding Bruce had been accepted as it had been offered, Toni thought—as a good sound reason for them to stay out of the forest, and as a darned good reason for him to feel very uneasy about the situation.

Toni was certain that David had told Kevin, and that Gina had let Ryan know. Thayer wasn't around, so he was the only one who didn't yet know.

The bodies had been found here. And Bruce had discovered one of the dead girls. Now they were all left a little uneasy, she thought. And she couldn't help wondering if they should just cut their losses and leave.

She was scrounging in the refrigerator, looking for something cold to drink, when Gina came into the kitchen.