The Presence (28 page)

“My ancestor is not a ghost, a presence, ranging the forest, looking for victims!” he told her.

“I never said that—”

“Toni, you're dreaming, and that's all.”

She turned away from him, rising, heading back to her own room.

He followed her. “Toni! Don't be angry with me. I'm trying to help you,” he said, following quickly behind her.

She had the bathroom door halfway shut, but he stopped it from closing.

“Excuse me,” she said coolly, “did you want the bathroom first?”

“I want you to listen to me!” he said. “Toni, suppose there was…a ghost. We all know that history was tragic. Okay, he led you to a tomb. He wants Annalise in it. So, we'll get her in it. I was at the autopsy today and I made it very clear that once my blood proves her my ancestress, I want her back. She'll lie in the tomb next to the great MacNiall. So why would this ghost still be haunting you?”

“He wasn't haunting me. He was showing me what happened.”

“Why?”

“So that we know.”

“Once they found the scarf, the truth was fairly evident.”

“Maybe he just wanted the full story known. Bruce! It tore my heart out, really. When he was threatened, it didn't matter. He said that he was already dead, be cause his Annalise was gone. And he said something about vengeance, even though he was half-dead al ready.”

“Dead men don't find vengeance, Toni.”

“Damn you, I was glad that I saw it! I wasn't afraid in the forest then.”

“You should be afraid in the damned forest. Someone—who isn't a ghost!—is killing women and discarding them there,” he said. “Toni, your imagination is very vivid—”

“Do you know what?” she interrupted. “You're right. It's late. It's always your own business if you care to join us or not, but I owe a lot to this group. It is time I got ready.”

“Toni—”

“If you're going to mock what I'm saying, or tell me that my imagination is too vivid, or that I'm losing a grip on sanity, you can just let it wait. Now, we do need to be ready. I repeat, did you want the bathroom first? It is your castle and your bathroom.”

He didn't reply, but he closed the door sharply on her.

Toni winced at the anger she felt from him. Gritting her teeth, she turned the water on high and stepped into the shower, letting it cascade quickly over her.
Never! She was never sharing any of this with anyone, ever, ever again!

 

Once again, his castle was full. Standing outside with Shaunessy, decked out for their grand entrance, Bruce looked at the tour buses with amazement. He'd have never believed that people would flock out like this—and pay the price charged—for a living history tour. But they did.

It still made him uneasy. But then, it had been a long time since he hadn't been uneasy, with regard to the castle—and the forest.

Shaunessy pawed the ground, as if he, too, was anxious to be at it, and over it.

“Hey!” Ryan came from the stables, leading Wallace. “I'm sure we've told you, but it really is damned decent of you to let us do this—and to pitch in.” He cleared his throat. “We should probably do a legal contract with you, though. I mean, you didn't get the money, so we do owe you, but we can't pay you unless we're making it. Which we are. Gina has been meaning to talk to you. She just hasn't had the chance.” He smiled awkwardly.

Bruce understood. Aye, he was helping them. But then, it was his property, wasn't it? And he could change his mind at any time.

“I'm sure we can work something out,” he told Ryan.

Ryan let out a sigh. “I was so afraid I'd offend you,” he murmured.

“I'm not offended.”

“Good, thanks.” Ryan inhaled deeply again. “I'm just thanking God old Wallace here has come through okay. If we'd lost our money on the castle, and then on the horse, too…well, it would almost seem as if someone was out there to get us!”

“Aye, it would, wouldn't it?” Bruce murmured.

A white flag was suddenly waved out the doorway.

“My cue,” Bruce murmured.

“Go for it, man,” Ryan said.

And he did.

There was always a fine line between acting and truth, he thought, as he played out the role, mounting the steps in a fury. Her words were right, her plea, brilliant. A pin could have been heard dropping from below. But her eyes… Aye, she was pleading all right. And she was still furious. He suddenly felt a great weight around his shoulders. He was sick to death of the myth and legend surrounding his ancestor, be cause it would start up all the rot about Bruce Mac Niall roaming the forest. And since he and his ancestor were supposedly spitting images of one another, there would be those who stared at him, superstitious, thinking that the sins of the past were coming alive through him.

Except that she hadn't been unfaithful. And the great MacNiall hadn't killed her.

Staring down into Toni's eyes, re-creating history, he wondered if it had been like this. Had Annalise looked up at her husband all those years ago with eyes this blue….challenging and angry?

Ryan made his entrance then and they went into their mock battle. Soon, the tour group was moving on into the kitchen. Ryan, deeply pleased, clamped a hand with Bruce's. “Damned, but we're good. And we still haven't had a chance to choreograph anything. Toni,” he said, looking up the stairs, “weren't we phenomenal?”

“Absolutely,” she said, but she was hurrying to ward the kitchen. “Big group. I'm going to give the boys a hand.”

“She pissed at you or something?” Ryan asked Bruce.

He shrugged. “You can tell?”

Ryan grinned. “I know Toni. Actually, I thought you were going to be angry with her. For being in the forest again, I mean.” He was studying Bruce's face intently.

“The remains of two murdered women have been found in those woods,” Bruce said.

“Three, if you include your ancestress. She was murdered, too. Why, I'll bet you the place is full of bodies, considering the history here! Oh, man, sorry. I mean, I hope it doesn't have any more bodies.”

“Thanks, Ryan. I hope it doesn't, either,” he said. “I'm going to take old Shaunessy out and put him up for the night. Then I'm to bed. You can tell the others good-night for me, all right?”

“Yeah, sure. And thanks.”

He departed, anxious to have his horse bedded down and himself upstairs before the tour group began filing
out. He wasn't much in the mood to be pleasant to strangers.

In his room, he started a fire, stripped down and stretched out in his bed, lacing his fingers behind his head as he watched the logs catch.

Should he relent? Just say, I've had a few moments like that myself. It's all right. Hell, no! He'd never seen his ancestor prowling the place.

She was getting too carried away. It was dangerous. There were bad things happening, really bad things. Ryan's words came back to him—
It was almost as if some one wanted them all to go down—
and then his conversation with Jonathan Tavish that day.

Glasgow. It had all originated out of Glasgow. And Thayer was from Glasgow. Thayer had been in the forest. Helping him find Toni? Or trying to make sure that he didn't find someone—or something—else?

 

Toni had noted the couple in their tour group right away, simply because they were so attractive. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and he was the tall, rugged-looking sort who could have walked through a Western and been instantly perceived as the real thing. And though they walked the tour with the others, there was something about them that struck Toni.

So she wasn't at all surprised when the woman followed behind and stopped her, catching up with Toni at the bottom of the stairs as she tried to make her escape.

“Toni!”

“I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me, the others will
help you. I had a—er—fall today, and I've got a terrific headache,” Toni said, eager to keep going.

“I'm Darcy,” the woman said.

“Darcy?” Even as she repeated the name, Toni knew who the woman was. Dismay filled her.

“Darcy Stone, we talked on the phone—”

“I know who you are!” Toni said, shaking her head. “But I told you not to come here!” Despite herself, she looked around. All she needed now was to have Bruce think that she was going to fill his castle with ghost hunters!

“I know. And please don't worry—we've not let anyone know who we are.”

“We!” Toni gasped.

“Just me and my husband.”

“Look, I'm certain you went through tremendous trouble and expense to get here, but I can't… You can't be here!”

“We've taken a little rental cottage in the village. Adam tried to reach you himself, but he wasn't able to get through. He's eager to talk to you. He's also afraid that things may be very serious if you've actually tried to reach him. So…here we are. It wasn't really such a bad trip. We made it in this morning.”

She had a level tone, a sweet smile and a certain down-to-earth manner that belied her sophisticated looks.

“There is a presence here,” she said.

Toni stiffened.

“Look, I'm leaving. But, please, I'm certain you need to talk to someone.”

“I can't talk to you here, now,” Toni said.

“I understand. Can we meet?”

Tourists would be pouring out from the kitchen at any minute. “Lunch, tomorrow,” Toni said. “There's a pub at the bottom of the hill in the village. You can't miss it. Meet me there, say, one o'clock? And if anyone asks, I'll tell you frankly, I intend to lie. You're someone I met in the States.”

“I did see you do Queen Varina,” Darcy said with a smile. She glanced over her shoulder, aware they were going to be interrupted any moment. “Please, don't stand me up. Honest to God, I think I can help you.”

“I'll be there,” Toni told her. “But, please…”

“Good night,” the woman said calmly.

Her husband was the first one to return to the hall. He glanced at his wife, and she gave a slight nod. The man then offered Toni a quick smile, slipped his arm around his wife and started for the main door.

Toni turned and fled up the stairs as quickly as she could. She went for Bruce's door and then hesitated. She was the angry one! She backed away and went into her own room. She tapped at the bathroom door, but there was no answer, and the door to his bedroom was closed, also.

Turning away, she brushed her teeth, washed her face and found her nightgown. She hesitated again. She could just go in, but what if he was angry now?

She turned, went back to her own room and crawled beneath the sheets. Fear suddenly set in. What if the old Bruce, with his bloody dripping sword, appeared again tonight?

The solution was simple. She was going to go to bed, close her eyes and not open them again until morning.

But sleep didn't come easy. She spent the first min
utes wishing that Bruce would suddenly come into her room. And finally, she drifted off.

Then she awoke.
Don't open your eyes, don't do it!
she told herself. But she opened them anyway.

She expelled her breath with a sigh. The room was empty. And yet…there was a
feeling
in it, a feeling of…sadness?

She sat up, remembering that, just after she'd
seen
what had happened, she hadn't been afraid.

Though she couldn't see her visitor from the past, she still somehow
felt
him. And she just wasn't ready to deal with it.

She rose, walked into the bathroom, hesitated, then opened the door to his room. She walked to the foot of the bed, biting into her lower lip, trying to see in the deep shadows. He was probably sound asleep. Should she dare take the next step and just climb in next to him?

“Are you coming in here?”

His voice, out of the darkness, caused her to jump.

“Well, are you coming in, or do you just intend to spend the night there at the foot of the bed, staring at me?”

“I'm coming in,” she said. Her voice sounded ridiculously prim and sharp.

She crawled in, and his arms came around her.

“Toni—”

“No! Don't talk. Please don't talk!” she said.

“Toni—”

“Please!”

“Any way you want it,” he whispered. And he, too, sounded ridiculous, sharp and cold, especially considering the way he held her.

T
he couple were already seated in a booth at the pub when Toni arrived, and the lithe blonde introduced Toni to her husband, Matt. It might have been just a lovely meeting of Americans in a foreign country, where even casual acquaintances could suddenly become best friends.

“So you're Toni,” the man said. And though the smile he offered her was warm and encouraging, she still didn't feel terribly assured.

“You saw Queen Varina, too?” she asked him.

He shrugged, looking at his wife with a half smile. “I am the Southerner,” he said.

Toni shook her head. “You both came to the show with Adam?”

“Yes, actually, we did,” Matt said.

“Adam has talked about you a lot,” Darcy said.

“So I gathered,” Toni murmured.

“And then, of course, when he discovered the castle was here, and that the owner was Laird Bruce MacNiall…” Darcy said with a shrug.

“Wait a minute. You're going to tell me that Adam knows Bruce MacNiall, too?” Toni demanded.

Matt Stone inclined his head and she realized that
the barmaid had come to stand before them. “I'll take a pint of anything,” Toni said, noting that the two were drinking beer.

“Lamb is great today,” the barmaid suggested. “And there's a lovely chicken entrée.”

The three opted for poultry, and the barmaid smiled and moved on.

“Adam knows Bruce?” Toni repeated.

Matt inclined his head again; her beer was coming. She decided that, with his smooth, cultured Virginian accent, he might have made an interesting twist on James Bond.

She thanked the barmaid for her beer.

“Please. Are you going to answer me?” she asked.

Darcy smiled. “He doesn't know Bruce MacNiall. He knows
of
him. He's been watching him. Bruce is actually on our register, as well.”

Toni stared at the two of them with a certain outrage. “He's on the
register?
This is beginning to sound a lot like Big Brother!”

Darcy shook her head. “I never do begin well, do I?” she said to her husband, who smiled. She looked back at Toni. “It's nothing like that, honestly. Adam is the most humane, caring individual I've ever met. His son was incredibly gifted, so Adam started doing research. Most people who have…well, I guess around here they call it ‘the touch,' others call it a gift and many call it a curse. Call it what you will, most people who have it are afraid of it. And they don't want to use it.”

Toni inhaled, watching her silently.

“Like you,” Darcy continued. “What child could endure such things happening, seeing such things in dreams? Adam said that you retreated, but that you were
incredibly strong-willed and appeared to have put it all behind you. However, he always felt that you would call one day.”

“As I did,” Toni murmured.

“So,” Matt said. “Want to give us the whole story?”

“In a minute,” Toni said, still wary. “What were you talking about regarding Bruce? You said that he was on the register.”

Matt leaned forward. “There was a case here, years ago—”

“Yes, I recently heard about it. He'd been a cop. His work led to the arrest of a serial killer. I think that means he must have been a good cop.”

“An excellent cop. And according to him, he simply used the methods employed by profilers.”

Toni nodded, looking at him expectantly. “So?”

“There were some articles written at the time that drew Adam's interest,” Darcy explained. “Apparently, he actually managed to
think
as the man.”

Toni frowned. “So,” she said, still skeptical, “there must be a lot of good cops on that register.”

“Oh, there are,” Darcy assured her.

Matt smiled. “You're still looking at us as if we're crazy. But that's what you want to think, isn't it? Toni, if nothing else, we'll listen to you
without
staring at you as if you're mad, and we may really be able to help.”

She drew her finger along the line of her beer mug, as if it were frosty, which it definitely wasn't. She'd actually grown accustomed to warm beer.

“If Bruce has any of the touch, he certainly denies it,” she said, hoping that her voice didn't sound angry or bitter. “He thinks that I have nightmares, that I hit
my head…anything but that I might really have seen a ghost.”

Matt lifted his hands and grimaced. “Guys don't like to admit that they see ghosts,” he said simply.

“I don't think that he does see this one,” Toni said.

“Different people have sight in different ways. I think that when he was on the force, Bruce wanted to catch the killer—or killers—so desperately that he was able to call on reserves he'd never want to acknowledge he has,” Darcy explained.

“And probably never will again,” Toni said.

“You never know,” Darcy told her. “So…please, try to tell us more.”

“Well, for one, they have a very contemporary problem here,” she said. “There's a serial killer on the loose. He abducts prostitutes from the cities and dumps them in Tillingham.”

“Yes, we know,” Matt said.

“Tell us more about the ghost,” Darcy said. “Especially if anything new has happened since we spoke on the phone.”

Toni arched a brow, staring at the woman. “Actually, something very new happened yesterday afternoon, not long before the tour.”

“The entrées are coming,” Matt warned lightly.

So Toni waited. And once the food arrived, she started talking. And to her amazement, she talked and talked.

“A ghost is usually trying very hard to say something,” Darcy told her when she was done.

“Let's say I buy into that,” Toni told her. “That I can even understand it! History didn't pinpoint him as his wife's killer, but legend and speculation certainly
abounded. So now Annalise has been found. They're doing DNA tests, and if it's proved that she is Annalise, she will come back to the castle and be entombed next to her laird. He'll be vindicated. She'll be at rest. So this ghost should be happy and quiet now, right?”

“He should be,” Darcy said.

“Unless…” Matt murmured.

“What?” Toni demanded.

Darcy exhaled softly. “Apparently, there's something else bothering him. And if you really want him to be at peace, you'll have to figure out what it is.”

“We've company,” Matt murmured suddenly.

Toni turned to find Bruce coming into the pub with Jonathan Tavish. They both looked grim. Toni felt guilty instantly, although she wasn't sure why.

Bruce saw them and headed toward the table.

“Hi!” she murmured, trying to sound casual.

“Hello,” he said, and looked to the couple across from her. “I saw you two last night, right?”

“Yes. Strange, isn't it?” Toni said cheerfully. “Matt and Darcy Stone, this is the real Laird MacNiall. Bruce, Matt and Darcy.”

“Nice to meet you. Our constable, Jonathan Tavish,” Bruce said, and Jonathan, too, exchanged pleasantries.

“Did you know one another in the States?” Jonathan asked. To Toni's ears, he sounded suspicious.

“Toni didn't remember until I talked to her last night,” Darcy said easily. “Matt's family home is in northern Virginia, so we often go into D.C. for the theater. We were there for one of Toni's performances of Queen Varina. We're staying in this delightful village for a
few weeks, so, naturally, I begged her to join us for lunch.”

There wasn't a lie in her words. Toni admired her smooth narration.

“Ah, so you're joining us in the village for a wee bit?” Jonathan said, pleased.

“It's gorgeous,” Matt said.

“We've rented the Cameron cottage,” Darcy told him.

“Well, we'll let you get back to your meal,” Bruce said.

“Join us,” Matt suggested.

“We've a bit of business,” Jonathan said, “so we'll be beggin' out, if you don't mind. Another time?”

“Certainly,” Darcy said politely.

“Seems the castle is bringing in the lunchtime rush,” Bruce murmured.

Toni twisted in her seat. She was surprised to see Thayer just a booth away, lunching with Lizzie and Trish. And three booths back, Kevin, David, Ryan and Gina were biting into what looked like servings of lamb.

“See? It's all good for business,” Jonathan told Bruce.

“Apparently,” Bruce said pleasantly. “Well, excuse us, then. We'll say a quick hello to the others and have lunch, as well.”

With a wave, he turned. The barmaid apparently knew both him and Jonathan well, for she jovially told them that their “usual” booth was available.

“Hail, hail, yes, the gang is all here!” Toni murmured as he moved away.

“Great,” Matt said. “I'm anxious to talk to them all. So is Darcy, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Darcy said. “Definitely.”

 

Bruce let it go for the evening, and all through that night's performance.

But after he'd stabled Shaunessy, he went upstairs, built a fire and sat before it—waiting.

In time, Toni came into the room.

“What's wrong?” she asked him.

He turned to her politely. “Friends from the States, eh?”

“Yes,” she said carefully. “Well, acquaintances, you know.”

“You called a
psychic?
”

“What?” He could see her mind racing as she tried to figure out how he could possibly know.

“Small place,” he told her, deciding to spare her and cut to the chase. “Jonathan looked them up.”

“Jonathan looked them up?”

“Passports,” he reminded her. “You are all visitors in a foreign land,” he reminded her. “And with computers these days…well, it can be quite easy to find out al most anything.”

“I didn't call a psychic and ask her to come,” Toni said.

“You didn't?”

“Well, I called her. Actually, I didn't call her, I called a friend. And—”

“Planning on adding tarot readings to the tour?” he demanded. She was floundering. She had done it.

“You're being sarcastic and—and horrible!” she told him. She was staring at him wide-eyed—caught, one
might say. And yet those sapphire eyes accused him. She was still Annalise, dressed in the ancient white gown. A flicker of something passed through him then.
She must actually be a lot like Annalise was, slim, blond hair cascading down her back, those eyes….

He brushed away the thought, angry again that she was so convinced there had to be a ghost. The damned place wasn't haunted. Although he was glad his ancestor had been vindicated—and he didn't mind a good historical place—he sure as hell didn't want the family home to be ridiculed, chronicled on
Ripley's Believe It Or Not
or a novelty in a ghost segment of the Travel Channel.

“This is still my property, my home,” he said icily. “And I don't want a séance here, or a woman reading a crystal ball, or anyone making light of the history of my home. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Yes, I understand,” she said. “Don't worry. And don't blame the others. I'll see to it that neither Darcy nor her husband ever darken your door again. Frankly, they're here to help. But then, you don't need any help, do you? After all, you were a great cop. You've got a friend who's a constable, and another who is a detective. So, what the hell, you would never need the help of anyone who might in the least tamper with the great dignity of the place! I understand. But if you had even begun to under stand me, and taken the slightest chance of
believing
something that I said, we wouldn't be having this conversation now. But like I said, there's nothing to worry about. I'll never mention the word
ghost
to you again, or your ancestors, as matter of fact. Hell, do what you want with the remains of Annalise! Sell them to a museum, indulge posterity, whatever. You've no right
to be angry with me because you really don't understand anything at all!”

“They were here, weren't they?” he asked.

“Yes. But I didn't ask anyone to come here. In fact, I specifically asked that she not. We all know that we've kept this going by your great bounty alone,” she said, and there was definite sarcasm in her tone. “I don't know why I'm bothering. Obviously, you don't believe anything that I'm saying.”

“Should I believe you?” he asked. “On what basis? I mean, do we really even know one another?”

She stiffened. “I thought I knew you,” she said.

“And I thought I could trust you.”

“Trust me? You know you can trust me! And if you were willing to take the least chance on me—and your self!—you'd give me the benefit of the doubt. Apparently there have been times in
your
life when some kind of a sixth sense kicked in. That's why you were such a great cop.”

“What?”

“Are you afraid to admit there just might be something in the world beyond what you can see?”

He was going to get angry. He was going to deny her words again. And yet…

Dammit. He didn't want to remember what it had been like when it had seemed that he had entered the mind of another man. A killer.

It was all bunk. Shite. In his rational mind, he had to believe that there was reason, and nothing else. He denied himself. No wonder he denied her, too.

“When you choose to,” she said coolly, “you'll trust me. Because when you choose to look at the truth, you'll know, beyond all doubt, that you can.”

She spun around, leaving him. He heard the bath room door slam—his side first and then the other. He stared at the fire, still seething—and sorry.

But neither did he want to be a fool. These people had invaded his home…well enough, they'd been taken, he'd understood. But he hadn't thrown them out. Instead, he'd let them work—even when it was be ginning to appear that one of their number might be guilty of the fraud from the start. Credit cards had been involved, and they were being tracked now. But in doing background checks, Jonathan had informed him, they had discovered that Thayer Fraser reported a bank card missing just before it had all begun.