The Presence (17 page)

“What?”

She looked at his handsome, caring face and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Toni! Please, you know I never repeat a word you say to me.”

“But do I know that you won't have me committed to an asylum?” she asked.

“Never,” he assured her.

She inhaled deeply. “David, I could have sworn that I saw Bruce go into the forest.”

David frowned. “Toni, he did leave the castle very early.”

She nodded. “So I've been told. And I know travel here can take some time, but still…”

“Did you ask Bruce?”

“He was in Edinburgh. With his friend.”

“And you trust in that, of course.”

“There's something about him that…yes, I trust him.”

“Then…?”

“David, I think I'm seeing things again.” Her words suddenly started to pour from her. “This afternoon…
if it wasn't Bruce, then it was the man that I invented, that Bruce from centuries ago. Or else, someone who dresses up like him and has access to a big black horse. Or else, I'm going crazy.”

“Toni,” he said slowly, “you're not going crazy. We'll rule that out right off the bat. When you came in to night, you said something about it being a trick of the light. Isn't that possible?”

“I suppose,” she murmured.

“But you don't believe it.”

She shook her head. “There's more.”

“Go on.”

She shook her head. “When I was taking a bath… David, it was suddenly as if I was
her.
”

“Toni, you're losing me. Her—who?” He shook his head. “The long-gone Annalise?”

“No. And that's what one would have thought. I mean, after everything else I made up that turned out to be true, I should have been imagining what it had been like for Annalise. But no, it was suddenly as if I were…the missing girl.”

“Annie O'Hara?” he said with surprise.

She nodded gravely.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it was as if I was where she had been, as if I could follow her thoughts the night she was taken. And killed. I could see outside a pub where she was drinking. She was even weighing in her mind what she was about to do. And then a car came up, and she was pleased and excited, because it wasn't some creepy old man about to pick her up.”

“Did you see him?” David asked sharply.

“No.” Toni shook her head. “No, I didn't. I—I was
distracted. I don't know if I would have seen the fellow or not.”

He sighed, rubbing her shoulders. “Toni, you do know that the mind can do bizarre things—especially under the stress of suggestion?”

“Yes, I know. Oh, God, David! Don't you think I'm looking for every possible rational reason for what I'm thinking, feeling…doing?”

“Toni, please don't go getting all paranoid. Honestly, think about it. Everything happening here is very suggestive. And hey, maybe there is some idiot in the village who hates Bruce MacNiall and is trying to get the man into some serious trouble by dressing up like him.”

“You think someone else might have a big black horse?” she queried.

He smiled. “I sure as hell think that's possible. They breed horses all around here. And big hairy coos!” he added, trying to get her to smile.

She did smile, but the effort faded quickly.

“Ah, Toni!”

“I'm still…scared. Well, not exactly scared, but worried. Unnerved, I guess.”

“Toni! You found a body, the human remains of someone. That's pretty traumatic.”

She shook her head. “No, you don't understand. Yes, it's horrible and disturbing, and I think I've had the reaction most people would—out-and-out pain and sympathy for the poor girl. And I also feel that distance most people would. Whoever she was, she died years and years ago. But it's this connection I feel to Annie O'Hara that's so unnerving! I don't know how to explain it.”

“Still, it's natural that you would feel for another soul, and that your mind might play tricks,” David said.

“David, I told you about the things that happened when I was a child. I had pushed it all back—so far back!—for years. It's terrifying to see these things.”

He was silent for a minute. “Toni, don't say this to anyone else.”

“They'll see that I'm locked up, right?”

He didn't smile or even reply right away. “No, that's not what I mean. It's just…you shouldn't say things like this to anyone else. It could get out.”

“I don't intend to! I didn't even intend to say anything to you. But if you're not worried about them all thinking that I'm crazy, what are you worried about?”

He hesitated. “Toni, you might have stumbled upon old bones, but there is a very real killer out there. He's probably a psychotic and far away, but people talk.”

“So?”

He exhaled and looked straight at her. “Toni, people like wild stories. Newspapers will pick up anything. And whether they think you're a crazy, headline-hunting American or not, they could print something. Most people will think you're nutty. But there is a killer out there, and if you scare him, make him think that you can see things others can't, then you could be considered a real threat.”

She stared at him, slowly understanding just what he was saying.

“A threat, Toni! Do you understand? You could put yourself in danger!”

She shook her head at first, in denial, then she felt the chills snaking down her spine.

“Don't worry,” she whispered after a moment. “Trust
me, I won't say a word to anyone, anyone at all. As I said, I didn't even mean to talk to you.”

“But I love you, and I'm your best friend,” he reminded her. “Well, Gina likes to claim that she is, but we both know it's me,” he teased.

Toni laughed. “You're both the best friends in the world,” she assured him.

“You can talk to me whenever you're feeling frantic, and I promise, I'll never make you think that you're crazy. I'll always be around when you need me,” he said, giving her another hug.

“Thanks!” she whispered, and hugged him back fiercely. “Okay, I'll give it to you this time. You're the best friend in the world!”

“I'm the best friend, but Laird Bruce is still the hottest guy around, huh?” he teased.

She felt a flood of color soar to her cheeks.

“Hey! I have hit on something there, haven't I?”

“We'd best get downstairs,” she said.

“I told you, he is a hottie,” David said, watching her with keen interest now, a curious light in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, he's attractive,” Toni murmured. “Shall we go down?”

He agreed, and rising, he took her hand and escorted her toward the door. When they reached it, he turned back, looking around the room. “Hmm. The bed is way too neat,” he said. “And there I was, thinking that… But wait! There is another room, right? Through the bath?”

He started to walk back into the room, but Toni caught him by his shirt. “Out! You—we—are not going snooping into his room!” she said, trying to put some indignity into her tone.

“Snooping? I don't think you were snooping earlier!” David teased.

She groaned aloud. “Downstairs. Food, dinner, remember?”

“I want details!” he teased.

“You're not getting any.”

“Aha! So there are details to be gotten?”

“Dinner!” she insisted.

“That's okay, I'll make up a better story than you could give me,” he said.

She paused for a minute, aware that he was making her squirm—and laugh. He really was the world's best friend.

“There is no better story!” she said, putting up a hand. “And that's all you're getting! Let's go down.”

Laughing, he followed her as she hurried toward the stairway.

 

“There's really a lot of activity in the forest,” Thayer said, taking a piece of the meat and passing it on. He watched Bruce MacNiall, and the new man, Robert Chamberlain, with interest.

He'd heard of Chamberlain, of course. The man was ostensibly with the Edinburgh police, but had been called around the country often enough, and was held in high esteem by the government and his fellow law-enforcement officers. From what Thayer had read about the fellow, he'd thought the man a better diplomat and politician than detective. That evening, he felt as if he might have been wrong. There was something about the bloke.

“And judging by the number of cars, they've called
in people from all over. It's funny, but I got the impression that the constable is a little proprietorial.”

“Jonathan is all right,” Robert said, glancing at Bruce.

“There is simply no way for a village such as this to have the kind of technology available in the larger cities, obviously,” Bruce said.

“So,” Thayer continued, “the folks out there now combing the forest are specialists? Forensics fellows, lasses, whichever?”

“Yes,” Robert said.

Bruce nodded. “I think they were contacting the university, hoping to get out some anthropologists and specialists.”

“Aye, then, that's good,” Thayer said. “Maybe, while they're digging up old bones, they'll find out more about the fellow killing girls now, and be able to put a stop to the bloke.”

“We will put a stop to him,” Robert said.

“Pity that Toni didn't stumble upon Annie O'Hara,” Thayer said.

They all stared at him.

“Sorry! I didn't mean that I'd wish such a thing on my own kin, or that we should give up hope that the girl is alive. But…if she'd been found, it may have helped the effort to catch the killer, right? It's bad business. No one even knows if Annie O'Hara is only the third victim.”

“We don't know that she is a victim,” Robert said.

“Has this guy been at it for such a long time?” Ryan asked with a frown. He flushed slightly as he looked over at Bruce MacNiall. “That sounds so callous. I'm sorry. I guess I just didn't really realize how long it's
been going on. I don't know why it surprises me—we've had serial killers at large for years in the United States. Nowadays we're always hoping that they're… well, caught quicker. If you watch
CSI
back home, you get the feeling that a crime can be solved in a night.”

“Sadly, it doesn't often work that way,” Bruce murmured.

“The first woman disappeared over a year ago,” Robert said, glancing at Bruce. “She was found in a sad state of decomposition. The second, just a bit more than six months ago. She was also found in a very serious state of decay. We've had little, if nothing, to go on.”

“Dead men do tell tales,” Kevin murmured.

“It's definitely true that the dead can speak, through medicine and science,” Robert said. “But to make comparisons, you have to have a suspect.”

Kevin set down his fork.

Bruce MacNiall stared at Thayer. “Surely, Thayer, you might not have heard my name—or known anything about the castle or the forest here—but you must have heard about this killer? When the first girl went missing, there was barely a notice, until her body was found in the forest, by me. But there was national coverage when the second girl went missing, and then when she was found in the forest, this time by Eban.”

Thayer was alarmed by the strange chill that snaked down his spine. What did MacNiall think this was, a bloody game of Clue? “Aye,
I've
heard about the killer. I do read the papers. But we've had other crimes, as well, about the country.”

“But you didn't remember the name of the forest?” MacNiall persisted.

“This was advertised as Castle Keep,” Thayer said,
trying hard not to sound defensive. “Nothing in the documents we all read and signed mentioned anything about Tillingham Forest.”

“I see,” MacNiall murmured, not sounding convinced.

Toni walked into the kitchen then, followed by David, who was grinning broadly, until he sensed the tension in the room. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes, absolutely,” Thayer said, thankful for the interruption. He lifted his glass. “We should be toasting Kevin's fine meal. And our host, Laird MacNiall, and his good friend, Detective Inspector Chamberlain.”

“A toast!” David said. “Yes, indeed.” Still standing, he lifted his wineglass. “To Kevin, great meal.”

Gina cleared her throat.

“To Gina,” David said, laughing. “Great veggies, as always! To Detective Inspector Chamberlain, with our deepest thanks, and to our host, more gratitude and admiration than he can ever imagine!”

“Here, here!” went around the table.

Then Thayer watched as Toni took her seat next to Laird Bruce MacNiall. He saw the flash in her eyes and the smile that curled her lips. And he saw the way that MacNiall looked back at her. Though it was subtle, it was still one of the most telling exchanges Thayer had ever seen.

Something had changed between the two. It wasn't a great mystery. His muscles clenched and tightened. His stomach hurt. So…they'd slept together.

Toni, with her huge, deep blue eyes, generous, sensual lips, damned plethora of blond hair, lithe height, supple curves, intoxicating laughter and scent
…

Thayer could be nothing but her cousin, her friend.
They were far too close, she said. Like hell. He remembered when they had met. He could have told her the truth—the real truth. Instead, he had tried to emphasize just how many times “removed” they were as relations. But it had done no good.

Face it, fellow,
he told himself.
She just didn't find you attractive. You might as well have been a eunuch—or of an other persuasion, like Kevin and David. You fool. You've dreamed, you've drooled. You thought you'd give it time. And there she is, sleeping with the bloke after only forty-eight hours?