Part 19 (2/2)
Bruce, too, realized what was weighing on their minds. And he wasn't the type to keep anyone in suspense. ”You can continue your tours,” he said, eyeing them all one by one. ”But no one strangles anyone, is that dear?” He stared at Toni. ”There will have to be a new spin on your 'history.' Figure it out, and all will be well.”
Gina cleared her throat. ”Bruce, do you think that the bones Toni found could have belonged to MacNiall's wife?”
Bruce sighed. ”The bones may prove to be Annalise, and they may not. My ancestor may have killed her in a fit of rage, and he may not have done so. I hate a.s.sumptions, that's all. And while the tests and research are going on, I'd just as soon not capitalize on the sensationalism, even if we are trying to make some of your money back.”
A collective sigh could be heard around the table.
”Thank you,” Ryan said simply.
Bruce nodded, then he finished his drink in a long swallow and rose. ”Gina, when you have a chance, get all your doc.u.ments together. I've a friend coming who is with the force in Edinburgh. I'd like him to see them. Naturally, his office and his resources are better equipped to deal with an international fraud situation than the department here.”
”Yes, of course,” Gina said. She, too, hopped up.
”We can hold dinner for your friend,” Kevin said. He was of the firm belief that a good meal, served well, could help solve all problems.
Even Bruce quirked a smile at that. ”We'll see if he can stay,” he told them. ”And now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my room if you need me.”
When he departed, they all talked at once.
”Thank G.o.d!” Gina breathed.
”He really is a great fellow,” David said.
”You poor thing!” Kevin said, shaking his head sympathetically at Toni. ”It's so terrible, what happened to her. It was chance that you found her, certainly.”
”Toni, are you all right with all this, after...?” Ryan asked.
Toni rose, feeling the weight of having gone through the forest, the bits of mud that had stuck to her that she hadn't noticed before. The tea and whiskey had been good, but more than anything, she wanted a bath.
”Guys, I'm fine. Thank you all for being so caring. But I've really got to clean up! I'll be back down in a bit.”
”And I've got to get back out and see to the roan!” Ryan said. He shook his head. ”I don't know what on earth could have made old Wallace so ill!”
Toni paused. She had forgotten about Eban telling her that the horse was doing poorly. ”The vet came out?”
Ryan nodded. ”When we came back from our picnic, he was here. He's doused the fellow, but he seemed a little confused himself. Said it must be something the horse ate. But Wallace is in there with Bruce's stallion, and Shaunessy is doing just fine. I only bought the best--you know how I feel about horses.”
The roan had been another investment, but of course, he was much more. And although she hadn't Ryan's expertise or knowledge, she had been the one to choose the horse with him. Ryan had looked for all the good points in a horse, for what they needed--a docile nature being among them--whereas she had simply liked the roan because he had liked her and he loved to have his nose stroked. Besides that, his name had been Wallace, which was wonderfully historical for their venture. He'd seemed like an omen of good fortune.
”I'll go out and see him later, too,” she said, feeling troubled.
”The vet is excellent, at least,” Ryan said. ”I guess out here they have to be topnotch, since folks depend on their livestock.”
”That's good to hear,” Toni murmured. ”I'll be back down soon.” And she left them, hurrying up to her room.
The door to the bath was closed. She knocked gently on it, but there was no answer, so she opened the door. Glancing across, she saw that the door to Bruce's room was closed, as well. Not locked, but closed.
She made the conscious decision not to lock it as she poured herself a hot bath.
Stripping off the clothes she had been wearing, she knew that she was never going to wear them again. Leaving them beneath the sink, she added bubble bath to the tub and climbed in.
Grateful that no one else had taken a shower or bath lately--and used up the hot water supply--she sank back and let the heat soak into her. She hadn't realized just how damp and cold she'd felt. The water was good. The steam rising around her seemed to permeate the icy feeling in her bones.
She closed her eyes, resting her head on the rear of the tub, and before long she was back in the woods.
She saw again the man beckoning to her, saw the bubbling water, the tiny whitecaps formed when it struck upon the rocks. Then she saw herself coming upon the branch again, lifting it. Tension gripped her, but she couldn't escape the image she was suddenly seeing. For it wasn't that of ancient bones, the remains of a centuries old crime.
She pictured a different body. Complete, intact. The body of a young woman, naked, facedown in the mud and water, hair encrusted with the black muck, tendrils of it betraying that once it had been blond and long.
She pictured herself turning the body, seeing the face.
Pictured the eyes looking up at her, glazed with horror. And she wanted desperately to escape the grasp of the vision, but she could not.
Suddenly Toni had an image of the girl that haunted her as she had been in life, standing on a street corner in Edinburgh. She vaguely recognized the locality, not on the Royal Mile, but a street that was off the main drag, very dark, shadowy, the lights flickering. From somewhere she could hear the sound of music, muted as it came from a pub. There was also the sound of laughter, voices, distant, as well, merrymakers drinking quite a bit. She could see the girl's face, the eyes, and almost enter her mind.
Money. She needed money. And standing on the street corner, she wondered if she should go back in the pub and seek out a man there...except that she had been in the pub already and had seen no familiar faces. And no prospects. She had chosen a working man's place that night, and the fellows had all been the kind down with the economy. So she had come to the street. She had to be careful, of course--she didn't want to advertise to any of the bobbies who might be cruising about--but she also had to stand in such a way that the right fellow would know...
She was dressed in a plaid miniskirt to show off her legs, which she knew were very good. And her blouse wasn't ridiculously low-cut, but low-cut enough.
She hesitated, wondering if she had chosen the right street corner. For a moment, a brief moment, she wondered what she was doing. How on earth had she chosen this way of life? Then she knew. She hadn't really chosen this life. She had just known that she had to get out of the life she would have lived, scrubbing floors, working in a factory or serving burgers in a fast-food dive. She had no real education, and she would have married some fellow who would also take a menial job. She would have had a dozen children and lived in poverty.
She still believed that with a little more money--and learning to stay out of the pubs!--she could make it down to London. And once there...well, something would work out.
She shouldn't be doing this, but she didn't have a whole lot of options. Besides, she had learned...even with an ugly, smelling, fat old fellow, all she had to do was close her eyes, get it over with. Then it was done. And she had learned how to forget.
Maybe tonight she could find one who wasn't quite so fat, so gross, a fellow who didn't smell of stale whiskey, or worse yet, sheep.
Maybe there would be no one....
She heard the car before she saw it. It drew up next to her. She bent down, looking into the window and her heart soared. He was really quite a handsome brute. Great smile.
She climbed into the car.
”Toni!”
Her eyes flew open. She jerked up. All images faded in a snap, as if they had never been. Only a whisper of unease remained with her, a slight trickle of fear.
Bruce MacNiall was just inside the doorway, a deep frown creasing his forehead. She stared at him, aware that the bubbles around her were dying and totally heedless of the fact.
She had consciously made the decision to leave the door open. At the moment, though, she barely remembered that as she tried to recall what she had seen in her mind's eye.
She had clearly seen the girl's face, her eyes, with far too much detail! And she had felt things for another, stepped into a different life.
”I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude,” Bruce said, his voice deep. ”I was afraid you were drowning in here.”
She was suddenly so glad of his appearance that she could hardly bear it. She scrambled to her feet, almost tripping in her haste to leave the tub, startling him when she flew, soaking, into his arms.
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