Part 15 (1/2)

”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. ”Indeed, 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 pa.s.sport, and with it, her ident.i.ty. Before it was all straightened out, she was wanted for a bank robbery in Cannes!”

”Ident.i.ty theft!” David said, nodding sagely. ”I wonder if.. .if that's what happened!”

”We'll get to the bottom of it,” Jonathan a.s.sured 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 if s not right in your own backyard, 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 la.s.ses 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 a.s.sured 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 la.s.ses.”

h.e.l.l, it was b.l.o.o.d.y early, Thayer thought. Eleven o'clock. Well, b.l.o.o.d.y early for him to start drinking, anyway.

f.u.c.k 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 d.a.m.ned b.l.o.o.d.y, b.l.o.o.d.y b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, 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 s.h.i.+rt, 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. h.e.l.l, 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 circ.u.mstances, given his habits, thought why the h.e.l.l 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 flas.h.i.+ng 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 a.s.sets. 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 a.s.sembled, 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 pa.s.sion. 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.

f.u.c.k MacNiall. Thinking about him was d.a.m.ned 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 d.a.m.ned. Underneath, it was still there. They still groveled so over any old bloke with a t.i.tle 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.”