Part 42 (2/2)

She backed away instinctively. Too late, she realized that Thayer had been right. Indeed, he'd been barely walking, but he'd dragged himself after her because.. .he had known that Tavish would be in the forest.

He took another step toward her.

Toni screamed, as loudly as she could. She screamed again and then turned to run, praying that Tavish was in worse shape than he appeared.

Fingers tangled into her hair, jerking her back. She went cras.h.i.+ng down into the water. She tried to rise, but he had her by the throat. She desperately grasped his hands, nails clawing. He was extremely powerful. She saw the world going a darker green all around her.

Green...black...

She heard gasping, choking.. .no air.

She slammed a knee against his groin with all her strength.

Bruce burst out on the little copse that sheltered the stream. And he saw her. Toni. Facedown in the water. Blond hair trailing behind her, floating...

”Toni!” He roared out her name in anguish, heedless of anything else around him as he raced over rocks, embankment, and into the water, falling to his knees, dragging her into his arms. She was still, so still, cold, silent...

He pressed his mouth to hers, parting her lips, breathing in. He staggered up with her in his grasp, anxious to get her to the slick embankment to perform CPR. Yet even as he held her, she gasped, choked, coughed up a wealth of water. Then she opened her eyes.

”Bruce!”

It was little more than a croak, but it registered as a warning. He set her down, spun and caught the blow of Jonathan's billy club right against his temple. He staggered back, falling on his haunches, his vision fading.

”What.. .the h.e.l.l are you doing, Jonathan?”

”Taking care of a b.l.o.o.d.y murderer!” Jonathan told him.

The pain in his head was staggering, the darkness, welcoming. But he fought it, fought to get back to his feet. ”I didn't murder anyone, and you know it!”

”Eh? Like as not how the law will see it, Laird Bruce! There's a fresh one in your old crypt.”

”Aye,” Bruce said, warily meeting his eyes. ”You know I did not put it there.”

”Actually, I do. Y'know, Bruce, I'm a handsome fellow. But the girls never came to me quite as they come to you. And there was that castle, rotting on the hill! You never had appreciation, Bruce. Y'don't deserve such a place. Now, if I don't kill you, and your last victim, y'may wind up ruling some prison and gettin' out again. So y'll die here with the la.s.s. I believe y've said yourself upon occasion, ye can buy a t.i.tle these days. And a castle, on a hill.”

”You've murdered people--to spite me?” Bruce said incredulously.

Jonathan reflected on that for a minute. ”Nae, the killing came first. Or maybe not. Maybe y'were the cause of it all, Bruce, because of Maggie.”

”Maggie!” Bruce said incredulously. ”Maggie has been gone a very long time, Jonathan.”

”Aye, a long time.”

”She was my fiancee, Jonathan,” Bruce said.

”But I loved her first. And there was a time when I was certain she loved me, too. But you came into the picture, Bruce, and it was as always--the spoils of life to the great laird of the castle! And then there was pity in her eyes when she looked at me. I just hungered from afar, but then...well, she died, and that an act of G.o.d. Still, she taught me about women.”

Jonathan started to pace, getting caught up in the frenzy of his words. ”You know, Bruce, I've always been a smarter man than y've ever given me credit for! I'm the clever one, always have been. You, the great MacNiall, know how to look up your stock reports! But I can do anything with a computer.” He paused a moment, then continued on. ”It wasn't after the first girl that I thought of what I could do. It was after the second. There were a few times when I thought I might have erred, so there had to be a scapegoat. Actually, it was quite easy. I set these people up to come. Ah, Bruce, the Internet! What an invention. I knew everything about you there was to know, and you can sell anything at all over the Web, that you can. I thought y'd really show yer temper. Who knew? You might ha' thrown 'em out right on their a.r.s.es. Then again, they might ha' been around when the last body was found. The lovely Miss Fraser might ha' been spared, but now.. .well, there will be a bit of a mess to clean up here!”

Bruce locked his jaw, thinking of the dizziness, the darkness that still gripped him. His so-called friend meant to kill them, there, in the forest.

Jonathan drew a knife from his pocket, smiling. ”A law officer, attacked. I did what I had to do!”

Jonathan hadn't just resented him, Bruce realized, he had hated him with a pathological conviction for years. The man hadn't acted in any mad, sudden rage. He had plotted and planned, dreamed of this.

Bruce flew at him in a desperate tackle, bringing him down hard in the water. But Jonathan had some strength in him. He forced a roll, bringing Bruce beneath him.

With a cry, Toni threw herself at the man. But he was powerful, and he heard her. Turning, he sent a fist jackknifing out. Toni went flying, falling hard back into the water.

Bruce saw the knife raised high above him, ready to plunge, and forced his shoulder to twist, throwing the man off. But Jonathan instantly started crawling through the water again, intent on getting the knife into Bruce's chest. Bruce managed to lash out with a foot, catching him in the ribs.

He fell back, but was soon up again. Then.. .absurdly, he stood in the middle of the stream and stared at Bruce, then away, then at Bruce.

”Hold still, y'b.l.o.o.d.y b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” he roared.

Incredulous, Bruce stared back.

Toni was on her rump, edging her way out of the water. ”Which one, Jonathan? Which one do you need to kill?” she demanded.

Bruce glanced quickly and sharply at her. They were both seeing.. .someone.

”This one, Jonathan! This one! He's leaping at you!” Toni cried.

And to Bruce's amazement, Jonathan went charging forward, determined to wrestle thin air. He found no hold, barely balanced, and turned again, ready to reach for Toni then, the knife silvery in the green darkness, his intent fierce and brutal.

It was Bruce's chance, perhaps his only chance. He gut tackled the man again, bringing him down hard into the stream. He heard a terrible cracking sound and winced inwardly. They'd struck a rock.

Beneath him, Jonathan Tavish didn't move. He knew it had been self-defense, but he had killed the man. There was a terrible emptiness inside.

He rolled, letting the water of the brook, icy cool and fresh, wash over him. A second later, Toni was by his side, taking his hand. Her eyes, sapphire and glittering with tears of relief, touched his. The death of any man was a tragedy. They both knew it. Yet, they had survived. For her life, he knew, he would have given his own. And for their future, he couldn't rue the fact that they had both lived.

Not without help.

”He was here, right?” he whispered to her hoa.r.s.ely.

”The great MacNiall. He appeared in the forest. Jonathan saw him, too, and didn't know which of us to kill?”

She nodded.

Bruce closed his eyes. ”Thank him for me.”

*20*

”It's still beyond my comprehension,” Bruce said, sitting across from Robert Chamberlain at the coffee shop. ”Why? Why would anyone spend a lifetime wanting nothing more than...well, revenge, I guess, for not being born the laird to a castle?”

”In a way, I can almost feel pity for Jonathan. Whatever his hatreds, real or imagined, they festered in his heart. Along with the sickness that tore into him. Who is to say just what caused what?” Robert asked. ”It might have begun with Maggie, and it might have started before she fell in love with you.”

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