“Wait, I think it’s—” Drake began.
“Charlie! Drake!” Robert’s stage-whisper came through clearly. “Are you out here?”
We stood creakily with stiff legs and numb rear ends. “Over here!” Drake answered.
Robert stepped out from the driver’s door of the Land Rover and came toward us. “Hate to admit it, but I think it’s time to give up for the night. Take it there’s been no action here?”
“Not a thing.”
“Well, it’s going on two,” he said. His voice sounded scratchy and tired.
I couldn’t believe I’d dozed off for nearly an hour and a half.
“Give you a lift back to your car?” he offered.
“Oh, no thanks,” Drake said. “We could use the stretch.”
Robert reached into the trash can and retrieved the sack he’d deposited there over four hours ago, and tossed it into his vehicle. Drake and I shook hands with him and turned toward the road. Without having to pick our way through the woods, the walk back to our car took only three or four minutes and we cranked up the heater the minute we got inside.
With Drake at the wheel, I dozed again until we made the turn onto the grounds of Dunworthy and the narrow lane to our cottage. I wasn’t aware of much else as I shed my clothes and fell into bed, until the phone rang.
I rolled over with a groan. My legs and hips responded stiffly after our nighttime hours in the woods. Gray light filtered around the drapes and the room lay in shadows as deep as pre-dawn. The bedside clock said nine-thirty and I came awake with a start. Had I really slept more than seven hours?
I reached for Drake before I realized he had leapt out of bed with the first ring of the telephone downstairs. His voice filtered up the stairway. I couldn’t pick out the words. I slipped into a terry robe and ran my fingers through my hair in a small effort to detangle and get it off my face.
Nine-thirty?
I pulled the drape aside and peered out. Rain poured off the slate roof, puddling on the flagstone courtyard in back, dripping from the edges of the wrought iron furniture and cement railing that defined our small veranda. Heavy, dark clouds obscured the forest beyond. The turrets of Dunworthy Castle were shrouded in mist. I could have easily fallen back into bed for another three hours, but curiosity about the phone call pulled at me. I cinched the belt on my robe and headed downstairs.
Words here and there caught my attention, revealing that the call was about helicopter business. Although I wouldn’t have to fly on a day like this, since I wasn’t instrument rated yet, Drake might and I didn’t look forward to sending him out in the soup if it wasn’t necessary.
I gave him a peck on his bare shoulder as he stood at the kitchen counter wearing only his shorts. Rounding the end of the counter, I rummaged for coffee and filled the machine with water.
From Drake’s end of the conversation I gathered he was talking to Brian Swinney.
“Okay then, later,” he said, ending the call just as the coffee began dripping fragrantly into the pot.
“Brian’s back,” he said. I couldn’t read his expression but felt a wave of relief roll over me.
“To stay?” I asked.
“Probably not. His mother passed away and they had the funeral yesterday in London. He’ll have to go back in a week or two to settle some legal matters.”
“Sorry to hear that. About his mother, I mean.”
“Meanwhile, he’s planning to talk to the top guys with the oil company to find out how the union talks are going and to lodge a complaint about the harassment we’re getting. I’ll meet him at the office in an hour to go over everything together. Come along if you’d like.”
“I better find out what’s going on next door,” I said. “I assume there aren’t any new developments or they would have called. Unless the phone rang early and I slept right through it.”
He shivered, noticing that the room was chilly and he wasn’t exactly dressed for it. I opened my robe and pulled him into it.
“Now this is what I’d really rather be doing on a rainy morning,” he said in a husky voice.
“Better than driving down to the airport in the rain.” I rubbed against him. “Maybe I could think of a way to warm you up real fast.”
“Real fast,” he said, scooping me into his arms and heading up the stairs.
“Think we’ll manage more than a quickie anytime soon?” I asked him thirty minutes later under the shower.
He grinned and promised we would. The shower was a fast one and we moved into overdrive, toweling off and pulling on clothing. I dashed downstairs while he shaved, and poured coffee into a travel mug, which I handed him as he reached for his rain jacket and keys.
“Drive careful,” I murmured into his neck. “I’m counting on more of that soon.”
He gave me a lingering kiss then reached for his favorite cap. “Soon,” he said.
I watched him drive away, wishing I could slip back to sleep for another couple of hours but knowing I was too charged up to actually manage it. I closed the front door and returned to my coffee cup, from which I’d only managed two quick sips so far. Popping two slices of bread into the toaster, I decided a little breakfast was in order before checking in with the Dunbars.
Sarah answered the phone with a breathless hello on the second ring.
“Oh, Charlie, I’m so glad you called.”
“Anything new on Richie?” I asked.
“No, I’m afraid not, dear. And now Robert’s taken a chill. I’m just making him a hot lemonade for it.”
“Uh-oh, I was afraid that damp air wasn’t doing him any good last night.”
“Can you come over?” she asked. “Surely we’ll be getting some word today.”
I felt myself hesitate. “Actually, Drake has some new developments going on out at the office.” It wasn’t exactly untrue. “And I have to be there for awhile this morning.” Okay, so that part was untrue, but I didn’t relish another day of sitting around the castle watching Elizabeth worry, Edward complain, Robert cough, and Sarah fuss over the rest of them. “I’ll have my cell phone with me,” I told her. “Call me if there’s any news.”
“I will, dear.”
The minute she hung up I began to feel guilty. I had the feeling Sarah was the glue holding the rest of them together—and keeping them from each other’s throats. I knew she could use some moral support.
On the other hand, I had an uneasy feeling about things at the oil rigs. Brian had been content to leave everything in Drake’s hands until now. Despite pressing matters back in London he’d come home now. It made me wonder if the union situation was about to come to a boil.
I stewed over it while tidying up the cottage. If there were something I could do, I should be with Drake. I poured the rest of my coffee down the drain and grabbed my purse and umbrella.
The rain had let up slightly but the clouds still hung low, like fragmented wisps of cheesecloth over the tops of the trees. The lane was becoming muddy and I dodged a few puddles as I headed toward the blacktopped road. I was amazed at how quickly the storm had moved in and become heavy, considering that we’d watched the moon overhead past midnight last night. Typical weather over the north Atlantic, I supposed.
For some reason, I’d had the image of Janie’s fresh young face in my mind as I drove. A couple of days had passed and it nagged at me that she might have thought of something new, but wouldn’t work up the nerve to contact me. Since Drake wasn’t expecting me at the airport I made a spot decision to detour.
As I reached the outskirts of Inverness, where the turnoff to the airport would take me to the northeast of the city, I passed it up and headed into town.
Downtown Inverness was just coming to life. Most shops opened at ten, and the clerks were just now setting merchandise in the windows and opening doors. The relentless drizzle wasn’t keeping people indoors. Parking slots on the street were going fast, but I found one and managed to parallel park, despite the strange feeling of going at everything from the wrong side. I locked the car, popped open my umbrella and walked toward the mall where Janie worked.
A supermarket provided the easiest entrance from the street. I resisted bakery goods and the candy aisle on my way to the back corner of the place, where an escalator rose to the mall’s second level. The place felt deserted at this hour, with only a few shoppers wandering lackadaisically and glancing in store windows. I strolled into Up Beat and looked for Janie’s silky blond hair along the rows of music CDs.
“Help you, ma’am?” a male voice asked.
I spun around to face a chubby young man of about twenty, whose spiky black hair looked freshly gelled and pimple-dotted face freshly scrubbed. His purple Up Beat knit shirt barely tucked into black slacks that were belted below the overhang of his gut.
“Is Janie working today?” I asked.
“Dunno.” He turned toward the back of the store. “Hey, Bart! Janie on today?”
The manager, the same man I’d seen in here the other day, poked his head out of a back room.
“Supposed to be,” he said. “Hasn’t phoned in.”
The clerk shrugged. “Guess she’s not here yet.”
“Mind if I look around and wait for her?” I asked. Like it would make any difference to him.
I glanced over the offerings on the first couple of aisles, finding a surprising number of American recording artists along with a large mix of British and other UK singers. I found myself meandering away from the heavy rock and heading toward the more traditional music. Must be pushing middle age, I thought. I’d never warmed up to much of the sound-alike stuff popular with today’s teens. In the section for traditional piano and guitar I did a double-take.
A familiar album cover leaped out at me. Dan Shelton, a really talented guitarist from New Mexico, had an entire section of his work here. I caught his music regularly on the radio at home, but had no idea he was an even bigger star over here. Amazing. I picked up the newest CD, one I didn’t already own, and carried it to the counter, scanning the store for Janie as I walked through.
“Is this guy really hot here?” I asked the clerk, handing him the CD.
“Yeah, the older folks love him,” he said.
Older than twenty. Excuse me, at thirty-three I don’t think I’m exactly decrepit yet.
“So, Janie isn’t here yet, I guess.” I signed the credit card ticket he’d pushed at me.
The store manager turned from stacking some sets of tiny earphones. “No, and that’s not the first time recently. Girl better shape up or she’ll not have a job.”
Outside, the rain had stopped although clouds still hung low over town. I stepped around puddles, walking up the pedestrian part of Church Street. I thought I’d parked the car two or three streets over, but couldn’t remember the name of the one I was looking for, so I found myself pausing at each intersection, staring down the streets to find something familiar.
On the third try I spotted the Vector on the right-hand side of the road, just a few doors down. On the left, a flash of color caught my eye. Lewis’s red hair. He and Alasdair were walking away from me. Without a thought as to what I’d say, I hurried after them.
The boys were easily half a block ahead of me. Alasdair walked on the right, nearest the street. I noticed each boy was carrying two large paper sacks from McDonald’s. Fast food breakfast, huh. Despite their teenage appetites, it looked like a lot for the two of them. I let a few other people get between the boys and me, deciding I might learn something by finding out where they went. With Alasdair’s height it was pretty easy to keep him in sight.
Intent as I was on peering between people to see the boys, I missed the man who barreled into me, head-on. Dressed in full Scottish attire, including kilt, knee socks, dirk, and wool jacket, I wasn’t sure how I’d overlooked him.
“Oh, sorry.” He rushed past me, a leather bagpipe case in hand.
When I looked ahead again the boys were gone.
My heart rate picked up. I’d only glanced away for two seconds. How could I have lost them?
I hurried ahead, pushing past the few people who’d separated me from my quarry in the first place. My eyes darted around the area. They weren’t across the street or ahead of me. They must have gone into one of the shops. A quick peek in the first one, a jewelry store, told me they weren’t there. It was a tiny place with a U-shaped counter ringing all three interior walls. The second place was a kiltmaker, equally empty at a glance.
Rats!
The third doorway led into the Victorian Market. I rushed inside to find that it was a small shopping mall, T-shaped, with perhaps two dozen stores and tiny booths lining the two central corridors. I walked the long side of the T but didn’t find a trace of the two boys.
Exiting the Market, I found myself facing the train station on Academy Street. Crowds surrounded it, and I just couldn’t see myself fighting my way through to search there. And for what? I didn’t have a clear idea why I wanted to catch up with Lewis and Alasdair anyway. No doubt they were merely meeting friends in town for breakfast. They’d been antsy the day before at not being able to get out of the castle. Today they were making up for lost time.
I crossed Union Street and found my car. It was high time I went ahead with the real business of the day, which was to help Drake at the airport.