Last Alpha: A Highland shifter romance

by Ruby Fielding

  She glanced back at Billy again, but he didn’t return the look.

  “Lilian? Attacked?” Carr stood there, shaking his head.

  “I’m going to have to ask you all to go back into the castle,” said the detective who appeared to be in charge, a bearded man of about fifty. “DS Andrews here will take details of everyone present at the castle this morning. We’ll be taking statements from everyone, and would ask you to remain on the premises until we’ve spoken to you.”

  They walked back towards the castle, escorted by one of the uniformed men. Over at the forest edge, other men were stretching blue and white scene of crime tape between tree trunks.

  “Tell me you know nothing about this,” said Jenny softly, walking at Billy’s side.

  He glanced down at her, his expression unreadable, but said nothing. She couldn’t tell whether that was because he had something to hide or because he was shocked that she would even say such a thing.

  27

  She waited in her room.

  The scene outside was surreal, like something out of a movie. Men with white anti-contamination overalls covering their suits moved about one careful step at a time in the shade of the forest. More police cars had pulled up, cutting deep wheel tracks across the grass, and now an ambulance.

  Some kind of wild animal attack. But what? She’d done her research, she knew there were no dangerous animals here in Scotland. All the wolves and bears had been wiped out centuries ago, and Billy’s argument against her suggestion of remnant populations was right: there was no way a viable population of large predators could survive out here without being noticed. The country was neither large nor remote enough for that.

  But there had been an attack here, what, fifteen years before? Jonathan Carr’s father. Whether you accepted the official man and his dog version of events, or Billy’s claims, the fact remained that a grown man had died from an animal attack back then, just as Lilian Lee appeared to have done now.

  Jenny wasn’t sure where that left her. Was she trying to convince herself that the same big dog was responsible for this attack, too?

  She flipped her laptop open and went online. At first she tried to see if there was anything popping up on news sites or social media about this incident, but there was nothing. Then she broadened her search to look for reports of large predators in the Highlands, animal attacks on people. There were a few stories of big cats, one even that had attacked a woman maybe 30 or 40 miles from here, leaving her needing stitches to her leg. But most of these turned out to be domestic cats gone feral, or remained mysterious but not exactly convincing. The only genuine account she found was from 1980, when an arthritic puma, later named Felicity, was captured just outside Inverness and went on to see out its days in the Highland Wildlife Park.

  The closest she got to a wild animal attack on the scale of this one was a woman gored by a red deer stag last year. The woman had to be put into an induced coma while her injuries healed, after the stag had turned on her upon being accidentally cornered in a garden. Had something similar happened here? Press reports described the incident as “one in a million”, but perhaps...

  There was a knock at her door and she wondered if it was Billy, but when she answered it there was a female police officer standing there. “Ms Layne? We’d like to take a statement now. Would you please accompany me?”

  She followed the officer down to one of the library rooms she’d found when she’d explored the castle before. Bookshelves crammed with old leather-bound volumes lined each wall with gaps only for a fireplace and two sets of tall, narrow windows.

  The senior, gray-suited officer she’d met before rose from a chair when she entered the room. Another man stood by the window with his back to them. When he turned, Jenny saw that it was Jim McQueen, and she recalled that he had told her that, although retired, he was sometimes called on as a consultant by the local force.

  The first officer waved Jenny towards a chair, and said, “Ms Layne. I’m Detective Inspector Cooper, and this is Detective Inspector McQueen–”

  “Retired, as you know,” said McQueen, coming across to join them. “It’s okay, Chris: I’ve already met Miss Layne.” He nodded to her, then said, “I’m helping out. I have some experience in this kind of thing, you know.”

  He must be referring to the attack on the Carrs, years before. “Wild animal attacks, you mean?”

  He nodded. “Aye, that’s the way it looks. The boys have come in a wee bit mob-handed, but we have to establish what happened, you understand? A suspicious, violent death. The first thing we have to do is be prepared for foul play.”

  “But you don’t think that’s the case? I’m sorry. I don’t really know much of what’s happened.” Only that last night she’d been with a man who claimed to be a werewolf and said he’d changed last night. She knew enough of these things to know that a man who suffered werewolf psychosis could be just as dangerous as an actual wolf, in the right circumstances. Or the wrong ones. And if his claims were true, presumably he could be even more dangerous.

  “No,” said McQueen, easing himself into a seat beside Cooper. He glanced at his colleague, then said, “I don’t think it’s giving anything away to confirm that we’re looking at a wild animal attack. We’ll have to wait for forensics to confirm, of course, but... well... I saw Dr Lee’s injuries, and I know what I saw.”

  “Ms Layne,” said Cooper, leaning forward. “Would you think back to the night before last for us? Where were you that night?”

  The night before last? So the attack wasn’t recent.

  “I was here at the castle,” she said. “I’m staying in one of the guest rooms for a while. I saw Dr Lee that morning. She showed me round the labs and told me a bit about her work. She was due here for dinner that evening, but canceled. Apparently that’s not uncommon. I don’t think she appreciated being wheeled out to perform for the visiting journalist, you know?”

  As she spoke, her mind raced. Where had Billy been that night?

  “So she just didn’t show up for dinner?”

  “She canceled. She told Mr Carr in advance she wouldn’t be here.”

  “So you had dinner here that evening?”

  She nodded. “With Mr Carr and Billy.” She glanced at McQueen. “Billy Stewart. We talked, I went to bed.”

  “Did you hear anything outside? Did you see anything? Either that night, or during your time here? Any sign of–”

  “Dangerous animals?” She regretted her flippant tone, immediately. “No,” she went on. “Only the wolves up at the Lodge, and they seem pretty securely contained. The next morning I called in at the Lodge, but Lilian wasn’t there. Only Winston Tsang, her sidekick.” Tsang had been pretty erratic that morning. “Have you spoken to him? He might have a better idea of Dr Lee’s movements.”

  “Oh don’t worry,” said Cooper. “We’re talking to everyone. Now, is there anything else you can tell us? Was it normal for Dr Lee to be out alone in the forest?”

  “I don’t know,” said Jenny. “I really only met her that one time. She seemed nice enough. I think Mr Tsang said she did tend to go off on her own sometimes. So what do you think happened? Was it a dog attack again?” She studied McQueen as she asked this, but he gave nothing away.

  He smiled, gave a slight shrug, and said, “It’s not our place to speculate, Ms Layne. I’m sure you’ll appreciate that. At the moment we’re just ruling out a few possibilities and establishing a sequence of events, that’s all.”

  §

  It was only afterwards that she wondered why she’d said nothing about Lilian Lee’s work, the project Carr had hired her for. Had the omission been deliberate on her part, or simply that, spoken out loud, it seemed so outlandish?

  She thought, too, of Tsang’s erratic behavior the day before. Had he been worried about something? Scared?

  Although she’d followed lots of strange stories, this was the first time she’d been involved up close. Now she understood how easy it was to panic, to start over-
interpreting, reading all kinds of things into everyday detail.

  All she really knew was that something truly awful had happened, and whoever – or rather whatever – was responsible was still out there.

  And putting it like that was hardly reassuring.

  §

  “Jenny? Are you okay?”

  Billy had been waiting for her to emerge, and now he stood in a doorway, watching her.

  She shrugged. She didn’t think anyone here was going to be okay today. “A bit shaken, I guess,” she said. She’d barely even met Lilian Lee, of course, but still it was hard to come to terms with the fact that now she was gone. And in such a gruesome, horrific fashion.

  He stepped back and she followed him through into what turned out to be another book-lined room.

  Billy turned, put a hand to her cheek and she pressed against him, like a cat with its owner. Then she caught herself and pulled away. She really didn’t know much about anybody here.

  “So have they spoken to you?” she asked, moving across to the windows. Outside, white-overalled policemen still moved about beneath the trees, methodically searching the forest floor. “Did they ask you where you were the night before last?”

  She couldn’t tell if that half-smile on his face was amused or nervous, or a mix of the two.

  “I was here for dinner with Mr Carr and a thoroughly enchanting American visitor,” he said. “Then I walked back down to my place in the village. Not much of an alibi, I’m afraid.”

  “Not much. Did you need one? An alibi.”

  A slight shake of the head. “I went home. Totally distracted. Remembering the evening. I slept well. I don’t remember if I dreamed, but if I did it would have been of you.”

  Since when had he discovered the smooth talk?

  She didn’t know what to make of Billy Stewart. She didn’t understand how she could simultaneously hold such contradictory feelings about him. That she could, on the one hand, seriously contemplate the possibility that he was somehow involved in Lilian’s death and that he was suffering some form of dangerous psychosis and, on the other, that he could so easily make her skin flush, her heart thump, her thoughts skip madly.

  She moved towards him, and moments later found herself in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, his arms around her like a protective cage.

  “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” she asked.

  “I don’t,” he said. “But I’m going to make it my business to find out.”

  28

  “Miss Layne. I wonder, could I have a word?”

  She pulled away from Billy and turned to see Jonathan Carr in the doorway.

  “I was just going,” said Billy. “I told Mr McQueen I’d introduce him to the wolves.” He glanced at Jenny, then, and added, “Not quite what you had in mind when you said we should show the locals around the estate, was it?” The twinkle was back in his eye, the mischievous look. It was good to see.

  As Billy left, Carr stepped past him and went across to the window, then turned and leaned back with his butt against the window ledge. He looked devastated. Black shadows under his eyes, a downturn to his mouth, a slump to the shoulders.

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” he said.

  “I’m really sorry,” said Jenny. “Such an awful tragedy.”

  He nodded. “Aye, it is that, all right.”

  She didn’t know how close he had been to Lilian, whether their relationship went beyond the professional. Would they have regarded each other as friends?

  “Do the cops know anything more about what happened?” Jenny asked.

  Carr shook his head. “She was out walking, they think. Not unusual for her, even at night. Then... something.”

  Was it all taking him back to that tragic night with his father? Was that what made this so much more shocking for him?

  “Does anyone know what... it was?”

  He gave a short, sharp laugh at that. “A dog,” he said. “That’s what old McQueen said to me. Did I know anyone who kept a big dog near the estate?”

  He straightened. “Listen,” he said, “I’m sure you’ll understand that things have changed. I don’t know if you’ve had any thoughts about what you plan to do, but I would very much appreciate it if you would not write anything about this just yet? Or at all, preferably, but I know I can’t ask that of you. I just want things to settle a wee bit, that’s all.”

  Was he telling her he no longer needed her PR services? He was talking as if he assumed she would just go back to the States and carry on with her writing. But then, without Lilian, would the research project continue?

  Perhaps he was right. She should head home. Maybe sort things out with her parents. Forget about all this.

  But then she remembered her first encounter with Carr, the distinct feeling that he was playing her. Was he doing that now?

  “What will you do without Dr Lee? Will the work carry on?”

  “Tsang is good,” said Carr. “But he’s no Lilian Lee. I don’t know if there’s anyone who can pick up where she left things.”

  “How far had she got?”

  A flicker. A slight pause. Then back with the standard response she’d had every time the subject came up: “Her work was only theoretical. Test-tube stuff. No more than that.”

  She nodded. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can rest assured. I have no plans to write anything just yet. There’s too much to get straight in my head first of all.”

  “I understand,” said Carr. “And I appreciate your candor, Miss Layne.”

  §

  She walked back through the castle, trying to get things straight in her head. Trying to work out what to do.

  There was a story here, certainly, but it wasn’t the one she’d come looking for. At times like this she wondered if she was in the right business at all. A real journalist would be digging away, writing, getting in touch with contacts so she would know exactly where the story was going. But Jenny was too close. You needed distance to write that kind of thing. You needed a toughened skin so you could write about people you’d come to know and not worry about the consequences.

  She’d only ever stumbled into this game. She could hardly claim it was a vocation, more a sequence of events.

  She came to a side door and stepped out into sunlight. Again, she was confronted by the surreal sight of police cars pulled up on what had been an immaculate lawn. Uniformed people all about.

  She saw Billy, then, walking fast, breaking into a run. Reaching for the door of his Land Rover and climbing in.

  Without a second thought, Jenny ran over and grabbed the door-handle on the passenger side – she was learning: she’d gone straight to the wrong side this time!

  The engine roared into life, and the vehicle was moving even before Jenny had swung the door shut.

  “You going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked, as Billy threaded his way carefully past the parked cars, heading for the forest trail that led up to the Lodge.

  They came to the first fringe of trees. The area to the left of the trail was still taped off, white-suited cops scouring the ground within. So this was it: where they’d found her. How many times had Jenny walked passed here in the last two days?

  “It’s Tsang,” said Billy. “The daft bas’.”

  “What’s he done?”

  Billy turned to her. “He’s only gone and let the wolves out.”

  §

  They had just reached the point where the road opened out when Jenny heard the wail of a siren behind them. She twisted in her seat to see a white police car, blue light flashing on top of its roof. Billy pulled over, close to the edge of the trail where it fell away down the hill, and the cop car squeezed past. He waited, and another slipped past, then pulled out again and continued to the parking area by the Lodge.

  When they pulled up, a uniformed cop was banging fists on the building’s main door while another jabbed repeatedly at the intercom buzzer.

  “Round here,” said Billy, h
eading for the narrow path that led between the laboratory building and the craggy face of the hill.

  Just as they headed round the side of the Lodge, another car pulled up and the bearded Detective Inspector and Mr McQueen rushed out.

  Tsang was out there, perched on the top of the big rock where Jenny had found Billy earlier that morning.

  The double gates to the wolf enclosure hung wide open, and just for good measure a section of the chain-link fence had been cut, the sides peeled back like a giant zipper.

  “Quick!” yelled Billy, rushing to the gates. “They’re not all out.”

  The cops didn’t seem to know what to do, so it was left to Billy to swing the gates shut, then go to the severed fence and try to push it back together. “Come on, someone. Do something! Get me some wire, Winston, so I can fix this fence.”

  Tsang just stared, so Jenny turned, remembering a maintenance shed she had seen this morning, tucked up against the hillside. The door opened easily, and she found a reel of wire and hauled it out. As she staggered across to Billy with it, she peered into the enclosure. There were two animals there, at least.

  Billy took the wire, uncoiled a good length of it, and started to thread it through the loops of the fence, crudely sealing the gap.

  She heard voices raised then. Turning, she saw McQueen and DI Cooper standing in front of Tsang, leaning in close, their words clearly angry but hard to make out.

  “What’s happening?” Jenny asked softly.

  Billy straightened, turning to look at the scene unfolding before them. “I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t know.”

  §

  They stood by the gates: McQueen, Cooper, Carr, Billy and Jenny. Carr had joined them a few minutes after Billy had secured the enclosure again.

  “How many should there be?” asked McQueen. “I can only see three now.”

  “Seven,” said Billy. “An alpha male, his mate, three juveniles aged between eighteen and thirty-six months, and a couple of yearlings. There are just two juveniles and the alpha in the enclosure now.”