Viking Vengeance

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Viking Vengeance Page 19

by Maggie Foster


  “Pin pricks and a bit of a first degree burn on the back of your right leg. Where were you when the blast hit?”

  Jim explained about being half in and half out of the car at the time. The physician nodded. “I’m told you’re a doctor.”

  “ER.”

  The other man raised his eyebrows. “That explains a lot. We got a report there was someone on scene, but no one could tell us who or how he got there so fast.” He stripped off the exam gloves and washed his hands. “You know how to keep those wounds clean. I assume you’re up on your tetanus. If you suspect contamination, get some prophylactic penicillin onboard.”

  Jim nodded, thinking he was already on exactly that, thanks to the wolf.

  The other man stuck out his hand. “Martin Keller.”

  Jim shook the offered hand. “Jim Mackenzie.”

  “Really quickly, ‘cause I’ve got to get back out there and get to work, tell me what you’ve been doing. Oh, and you can get dressed.” He pointed at a table marked ‘Red Cross Disaster Relief.’

  Jim looked over and found piles of socks, shoes, shirts, pants, and sweaters laid out, already sorted by sizes. He picked through the offerings, then settled down in a chair to put them on. While he was doing that, he told Dr. Keller about the victims, summarizing, because he knew the triage teams were already sorting through the casualties.

  “Did you mark the ones you thought could be saved?”

  “I didn’t have any way to do that, just made sure there was someone with them and told them to yell loudly as soon as an official showed up.”

  Dr. Keller nodded. “We need to run your fingerprints and get you to write a statement and do a short form victim chart on you, to cover our little visit here. Then we need for you to chart on the people you saw, as much as you can possibly remember. Every detail matters.”

  Jim nodded. “What can I do to help right now?”

  “Paperwork.”

  Jim made a face. “I’ve seen trauma before. I can help.”

  Dr. Keller shook his head. “I’m sure there are people out there whose lives you saved today, but you are officially off the case. You’re a victim, not a responder.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Help me out by doing exactly what I need. I’ll send someone in to walk you through it.” With that, he turned and left. A woman entered on his heels, wearing the uniform of an Albany police officer. She produced a digital fingerprint scanner and took Jim’s prints, then set him up with a small computer. Jim settled down and began to compose his victim statement.

  The woman was hovering in the background, which made him a bit nervous, but he told himself it was only to be expected. Once they knew he was a licensed physician, even if a volunteer, they could add his name to the reports.

  The woman stepped outside and he could hear her talking to someone. He was done with the statement before she returned.

  “Dr. Mackenzie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Dr. Keller tells me he asked you to write out a complete report on all the people you came into contact with today.”

  Jim nodded.

  “I’ve been instructed to take you to the station and set you up with a desk.”

  “Can’t I stay here?”

  “I’m afraid we need this space. Besides, you’ll be a lot more comfortable indoors.”

  Which was true. There was a cold draft coming in under the edge of the tent. “All right, but I’d like to stop by my car first. I have extra shoes in the trunk.”

  She hesitated, looking down at his sock-clad feet. “Better let me get them for you. There’s debris all over the ground and anything you might pick up could be evidence.”

  Jim nodded, then handed her the keys and told her where to look for his hiking boots. He’d had no need to take them indoors at any of the homesteads since he’d been wearing his sneakers pretty much continuously. He just wished he’d thought to stuff a pair of wool socks in the toes. The cotton ones the Red Cross had supplied were not very thick.

  * * *

  Chapter 32

  Sunday Morning

  Dallas, TX

  Detective Tran returned from the break room to find an alert on her computer. Someone had run a search on Dr. Mackenzie.

  She read the cryptic request with interest. ‘Confirm credentials, physician, Texas.’ The originating station was Albany, NY. She picked up the phone and dialed the number, identified herself, and asked to speak to the officer in charge.

  “Lieutenant Shapiro. What can I do for you?”

  “I understand you ran a fingerprint search on Dr. Angus James Mackenzie today.”

  “Right.”

  “What are the circumstances of that request, please?”

  The voice on the other end of the line sharpened. “What’s your interest in him?”

  Detective Tran explained she was following up on a homicide and that Dr. Mackenzie was a person of interest who might or might not have information that might or might not help her in her investigation.

  “I see. Well, first, can you confirm he’s really a doctor?”

  Detective Tran’s eyebrows rose. “I have no definitive information on that subject, but he is employed in a local emergency room and I have not heard it suggested that he is an imposter.”

  “Hmm. Guess I need to wait for the official results, then.”

  “What has happened?”

  “You seen the news?”

  “Not since last night.”

  “Well, it might not be on in Texas, but it’s getting big coverage here.”

  “One moment, please.” Detective Tran took her phone into the break room and turned on the monitor. A quick scan of the news channels showed her what she wanted. “I see a reference to an explosion.”

  “We think it was a gas main. The weather has been playing havoc with our infrastructure and it looks as if a pipeline cracked. The levels were way over safety limits in the area.”

  Detective Tran was watching the images on the screen. “This was a rail station?”

  “A light rail, yeah. We think the train set it off, but maybe it was a passenger smoking. Either way, the result was chaos. The death toll’s already twenty-three and we ain’t through counting yet.”

  “How does Dr. Mackenzie fit into this?”

  “He got caught in the blast, then spent an hour patching up the casualties all by himself. We think he saved at least five of them.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Yeah, but the legal johnnies want to make sure he really is who he says he is, in case any of this comes back to bite us.”

  “I see.” Detective Tran had her eye on the TV screen and could see footage of the disaster, complete with what might have been Dr. Mackenzie working on a patient. The picture wasn’t clear enough for her to tell, but if they had his fingerprints, then it was the man himself.

  “I can answer half your question for you, Lieutenant. The fingerprints you ran belong to the man I know as Dr. Mackenzie.”

  “You had his prints on file?”

  “He was the target of an attempted murder three months ago.”

  “But you don’t know if he’s really a doctor?”

  “There was no reason to check. I visited him in the hospital and heard him addressed by members of the staff as ‘doctor,’ but that proves nothing.”

  “True. Well, the medical board will have a photo or something and I appreciate you sharing what you know with me. Is there anything else I can do for you, Detective?”

  “Would it be possible to pick him up and detain him while I set up a conference call?”

  There was a hesitation on the other end of the line. “Detain him?”

  “Not for an arrest, but I would like to speak to him. Can you arrange that?”

  Again there was a hesitation. “He’s already here.”

  “In the station, you mean?”

  “Yeah. We’ve got him writing up what he did, for the official file. I’d hate to spoil his day. They’re calling hi
m a hero.”

  “He is not considered a suspect, but he might prove a material witness. It all depends on what he knows.”

  Detective Tran heard a sigh. “All right. I can hold him, but I’ll have to tell him what it’s about.”

  “I understand. Thank you.”

  Detective Tran waited while she was transferred to the IT department and given instructions for videoconferencing. The soonest they could set it up was noon. Well, it couldn’t be helped and Dr. Mackenzie wasn’t going anywhere. She would use the time to assemble her thoughts. This might be the only chance she got and she wanted to make the most of it.

  * * *

  Sunday Morning

  Beverwyck Homestead

  Ginny sat in the Homestead library, curled up on the sofa. She had risen and breakfasted, then been escorted to this meeting. The Laird sat facing her, an expression of concern on his face.

  “We’re dealing wi’ twa issues here, both o’ them serious. Th’ first is yer fear and th’ second yer ego.”

  Ginny had her mouth clamped shut, determined to hear him out. She had not been happy with herself yesterday and, if she could, she was willing to learn from this expert.

  “Ye want Jim tae acknowledge tha’ ye dinna need him, that yer fine by yerself, but it’s no true and ye know it. We’re human. We need people in our lives.” He leaned toward her. “That other man proved ye vulnerable and yer afraid tae make th’ same mistake twice.”

  Ginny nodded.

  “Which means yer afraid o’ Jim. Afraid o’ lettin’ him get too close.” Gordon sighed. “Tis understandable, but no very healthy.”

  Ginny wrapped her arms around herself. She’d been trying to trust Jim for months, had succeeded at times, but it was true she still wondered if she would ever feel safe with a man again.

  “The other issue is th’ reverse o’ this one. Ye want tae feel whole, again, and fer tha’ ye need Jim’s approval and ye feel he’s no giving it tae ye.”

  Ginny took a deep breath and counted to ten, backwards. She wanted to prove she didn’t need Jim and she wanted to prove he did need her. Put that way, she sounded like a bratty teenager.

  Her brow furrowed. “Isn’t it possible for a man and woman to be equal partners in life?”

  “’Tis possible, but hard.”

  “How do I get him to respect me?”

  “Since he’s no here tae speak fer himself, we must focus on you. What he’s facing, taking on a Homestead, ‘tis a formidable task. If ye wed him, ye wed th’ job as well.”

  Ginny nodded.

  “And a laird is just a man wi’ all the faults and failings o’ such.”

  Ginny nodded again.

  “Ye need tae decide if that’s wha’ ye want tae do with yer life, devote it tae the Homestead and th’ man charged with keepin’ it.”

  “The job doesn’t scare me, but being under his thumb every step of the way would drive me crazy.”

  “Ye want tae be his peer, not his underling.”

  “Exactly.”

  Gordon nodded “I can see yer point.” He studied her face for a moment. “It won’t work, though. There canna be two lairds.”

  Ginny felt her eyes grow wide. Is that what it sounded like to this man?

  Gordon leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on her. “Angus seems tae think ye can be trusted, with his Homestead and with his grandson. Sae it’s up tae you, lass. Ye need tae decide. Are ye prepared tae do whatever it takes tae help Jim succeed?”

  “He won’t let me help him. That’s the problem. He won’t listen to me.”

  “He will, on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That ye wed him first and teach him second.”

  Ginny’s mouth fell open. “I have to marry him before he’ll listen to me? That sounds like blackmail.”

  “It is and it isn’t,” Gordon said. “If ye’re his wife, he can trust ye tae keep his secrets and ha’e his back. He can let his hair down with ye and be vulnerable, which will gi’e him a chance tae grow.”

  Gordon gave her half a smile. “I know ‘tis not what ye wanted tae hear. ‘Twould be a guid idea, I think, if ye talked with my wife before ye make up yer mind. She’s another strong woman. She can tell ye how she copes with me. And I’ll ha’e a wee talk with Jim Mackenzie.”

  * * *

  Sunday Morning

  Albany Police Station

  Jim punched in his grandfather’s number and listened as the call went through. Himself picked up on the second ring.

  “Grandfather, it’s Jim.”

  “Aye, lad. What’s amiss?”

  “I’m at the Albany police station. They’re setting up a conference call with Detective Tran.”

  “Auch! Are they noo? Wha’ did ye do tae attract th’ attention o’ th’ local police?”

  Jim described the explosion and his role as volunteer in the aftermath. “They took my fingerprints to check my credentials. I think that’s what caught Detective Tran’s attention.”

  “Are ye all right at the moment?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get back tae ye.”

  “Wait! I think Ginny should take Charlie and disappear, before Tran can send someone out to the Homestead to catch them.”

  “Tis well be thought. I’ll see tae it.”

  “Tell her it’s up to her to keep him safe and under the radar. And don’t tell her I said that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Let’s just say it will work better if she thinks the idea came from you.”

  “Ye’ve no’ settled yer wee misunderstand, then?”

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Harumph.”

  Jim hung up the phone then went back to his paperwork. At least now Angus knew what had happened. In the meantime, he needed to decide exactly what he could safely tell Detective Tran.

  * * *

  Sunday Morning

  Beverwyck Homestead

  Gordon was just pulling his phone out of his pocket to call his wife when it went off in his hand. He glanced at the caller ID, then punched up the connection.

  “Aye?”

  “Greg? It’s Angus.”

  “I can see that. What can I do for ye?”

  “Get Ginny and Charlie awa’ fra th’ Beverwyck Homestead in th’ next hour.”

  Gordon blinked. “Is there a problem?”

  “Aye, and I’ll be askin’ ye tae rescue Jim as well, but get th’ other twa on th’ road first. Then call me back.”

  Gordon looked over at Ginny Forbes, his eyes narrowing. “Ye want me tae send them off withoot Jim? I’m no’ sure that’s such a guid idea.”

  “I agree, but I hae nae choice in th’ matter. Can ye do it?”

  Ginny’s ears had pricked up at his last comment.

  “Aye, but I think ye should give Miss Ginny her instructions yerself.”

  “Is th’ lass there? Put her on.”

  Gordon handed the phone over, then watched as Ginny listened. She made no protest, just nodded, then said, “Aye, Mackenzie,” and handed the phone back to Gordon.

  “Greg?”

  “I’m here.”

  “She’ll be needin’ tae borrow a car.”

  “We can do tha’.”

  “Ha’e yer people disable th’ GPS first.”

  “Why?”

  “Ask me nae questions, I’ll tell ye nae lies. I’ll wait tae hear from ye.”

  Gordon closed the connection and rose to his feet. “Let’s go, lass.”

  He placed several calls in rapid succession, instructing the house staff to pack Ginny and Charlie’s things, and pull one of the vehicles out of the garage, making sure it was disconnected from the network. His call to his wife included instructions for food for the road. The next was to Dr. Warner, instructing him to bundle Charlie with any necessary medical supplies and deliver them to the front hall. He turned to Ginny.

  “I wish I could send someone wi’ ye, but I ha’e a feeling Angus wouldna
like it.”

  Her face was pale, but she nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

  He wrote his phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to her. “Let me know when ye get tae the Sunkhaze Homestead.”

  “Himself told me to stay off the phones until we reach Halifax.” She had hers open and was taking the battery out as he watched.

  Gordon frowned. What trouble were these three in, to require security like that? “Wait here.”

  He strode down the hall and into his office and came back with his spare phone. He thrust it at Ginny. “My backup. If anyone traces it, they’ll wind up here. Call if ye need tae.”

  She nodded.

  “All right. Let’s get ye going.”

  The preparations were almost complete. Charlie was in place on the passenger side of the car and Mrs. Gordon was supervising the packing.

  Ginny turned on the curb. “Thank you, for everything.”

  “Yer welcome. Dinna forget tae come back. I’ll be wantin’ my phone.”

  She straightened her back, looked him in the eye, then dropped a formal curtsy. “Aye, Gordon.”

  He watched as she climbed behind the wheel and turned the engine over. She was pulling away from the curb fifty minutes after Angus’ call.

  Gordon put his arm around his wife.

  “Will they be all right?” she asked.

  “I hope so.” He turned her toward the door. “According tae Angus, we must also rescue the young Mackenzie. Let’s go find out wha’ that means.”

  * * *

  Chapter 33

  Sunday Noon

  I-90, headed east

  Ginny pulled out onto I-90 E, headed for Bangor and the Sunkhaze Homestead. They had a full tank of gas and approximately four hours of daylight for a six to seven hour drive.

  The safest course of action was to stick to the highways. They would be plowed and lit and would have both food and fuel. That took them south almost into Boston, then up the coast through a highly populated area of the eastern seaboard. Ginny bit her lip. Running. They were running before the law.

  Once they were well out of Albany, Charlie broke the silence.

  “What happened to Jim?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “What did Himself say?”

  She glanced over, trying not to let her anxiety show. “That Jim was at the Albany police station. That I was to take you to Halifax as quickly as I could manage, and that he would send Jim on as soon as possible.”

 

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