by Vines, Jolie
I drew her in and hugged her, no small thrill in me from her public claiming. She loved me. I’d never make her regret the fall. “It’s not. Dinna ever take on the responsibility for someone else’s behaviour.”
Gordain’s voice sounded again. “Then we have two possible suspects, lumping the brothers into one category as they have collective gain. One thing to consider is that the incidents could be a combination of these agents acting separately.”
“True,” I acknowledged.
“The rescue calls…” Max unfurled his tall frame from his seat. So far, he’d listened silently, the opposite side of the room from his twin brother. He palmed his plaster-encased arm. “I’ve been listening to them back to back, trying to work out if it’s one person or multiple.”
“Weren’t two of them female?” his father asked.
“Aye, so if it is a single player, they’d be very good with putting on voices. Which is what I looked out for.”
Cait peered at him. “Player, like an actor?”
His eyes flared. “Exactly. And I’m pretty certain I picked up a hint of a Birmingham accent in two of the calls.”
Cait paled further, her fingertips fluttering over her lips.
“What is it?” I asked.
A thud at the heavy oak entrance resounded in the great hall.
Callum and Ally shot up and stalked over. They slid back the iron locks and opened it, revealing a uniformed officer the other side.
Mathilda’s gaze stayed on her niece. Likewise, her two brothers stared.
“Your university friend that used to visit you here was from Birmingham,” Mathilda said slowly. “You brought him to see the castle. He was charming. Overly so.”
“And an acting student,” Max added.
The police officer eyed us, offering a joke over the amount of people converged over the incident. No one laughed. She handed an iPad to Cameron then gestured at something, stepping outside. Cameron locked the door and brought the tablet to me.
Everyone else crowded around, and I hit ‘play’.
The in-colour scene showed the reception area of the school, kids’ rainbow paintings lining a wall. At the desk, the receptionist glanced up, and a pair of boots appeared in the glass doorway, at the top of the screen.
She must’ve buzzed the person in, but the pounding of blood in my ears displaced the sound.
The door swung open. The man entered.
Young. In a woolly hat and thick coat. Only a thin sliver of his features showing.
Cait drew back as if stung.
I knew why. I’d recognised him, too.
Everyone waited on her.
“Jude,” she said on a breath. “That’s who tried to take Isla. My friend Jude—an acting student from Birmingham. Rupert’s nephew.”
32
Cait’s Watcher
Bitter anger twisted my insides, shredding my righteous control.
How dare she?
Not only did she hide, not only did she turn her back on me, but she rushed back to him. Stayed with him. Kept out of sight inside that infernal castle.
They were lucky I hadn’t torched the place overnight.
Lord knows I wanted to.
I strapped on my knife belt, sliding the blade into the leather sheath. The cruel-edged hunter’s knife gleamed in the morning light, then sat snug in its home. In the empty cottage, I stood and collected my other, arguably more important, weapon and checked it over.
The large window, devoid of curtains, reflected back my image, and I grinned, posing. Quite the Rambo today.
But my levity was short-lived.
The anger rose and crashed over me in a wave.
I couldn’t handle this any longer. I’d been so patient, intending to take a gentler path with my courtship, but that was over.
She’d done this. Now she’d pay the price for the action she’d forced me to take.
Stowing the shotgun, I picked up my phone and cleared my throat, gazing out on the Highland glen.
Heavy clouds loomed, snow already falling in light scatters, adding to the thick drifts.
The call connected, the signal weak.
“Hello?” I said, my voice a perfectly pitched older woman. “Help. I need help. Please. I’m on Mhic Raith. The east side, just beyond Hill House. My husband has fallen, and I tried to get to our car but I’m lost. It’s so cold out here.”
The call handler started their same old spiel, but I hung up.
It was time to go.
With a flourish, I armed the explosive and set my trap—it was truly amazing what you could buy online—pulled on the too-tight coat, and set out to do what I should’ve done months ago.
Today, I’d take what was rightfully mine.
33
Caitriona
“He’s a dead man.” Lochie held up the tablet, the screen frozen on my twisted acquaintance’s face.
Desperation buzzed in my veins, and I took a step away from the footage, hating the sight of my former friend smiling at the receptionist like he wasn’t about to kidnap Isla.
What the hell was he doing?
Rupert must have forced him.
Or was it all his idea?
“Jude texted me several times in the past few days,” I said. “All cheerful messages, checking in. I didn’t reply, too busy to worry about some random friend I barely know.”
The hard light in Lochie’s eyes darkened. “Read out the texts.”
I grabbed my phone. “Wednesday: Dinner tomorrow? Chelle’s really sorry for acting weird. Thursday: I guess you can’t make it tonight? No biggie. What are you up to? Friday: Is something wrong? I had so much fun meeting up with you again. Did you enjoy it? Then a few hours later: Where are you, Caitriona?”
I lowered the phone to find the focus of the room on me.
“Clear escalation. He was thinking about ye every day,” Gordain remarked through the video. “He’s kept his cool, though. No obvious sign of frenzy.”
Lochie gave a single shake of his head. “We have our suspect.”
“It can’t all have been him. He’s been away, travelling,” I said fast, my mind twisting over everything I knew about Jude.
“Cait,” Gordain said. “Ye said ye suspected his uncle. What reason would Jude have to help the man?”
“To kidnap a child? None that I know. I need to think.”
Lochie held my gaze, his jaw set. “Anything ye can remember now will help. Anything he said to ye. How do ye know he was travelling?”
I blinked, going over every word that had fallen from Jude’s lips. “He told me. No, wait, I saw his pictures online.”
“Was he in them?”
“I don’t recall. I’ll check.”
I searched for Jude, but no accounts existed on either place he’d befriended me. My blood froze over. “He’s taken his accounts down. But wait, he has a fiancée. Chelle. She went with him.”
I ran a search on her name and found her profile.
“Any exotic locations in her recent history?” Lochie asked.
I scrolled, going back months through Chelle’s profile. “None. And no pictures with Jude. But I have her workplace.”
I brought up the smart Manchester-located café, their phone number listed on their page. It was barely 8AM, but surely they’d be open. I pressed the number, begging silently.
A voice answered after a few rings. “Dock House. Chelle speaking. How can I help you today?”
My heartbeat stuttered. “Chelle? It’s Cait McRae, we know each other from uni.”
“Cait? Oh, sure. It seems like such a long time ago. How are you?”
I opened my mouth, trying to frame the odd question I had to ask.
As far as Jude had told me, they were engaged and visiting Inverness together before they bought their own place in her parents’ hometown, near the Scottish borders. Over dinner, he’d smiled and told cute stories about their romance.
Without even a word from Chelle, I knew it all to be lies.<
br />
Chelle continued speaking. “It’s so funny that you called. Your boyfriend came in a week or two ago and mentioned you.”
“My boyfriend?”
“Jude Gaskill?”
Oh fuck.
I clasped the phone harder and set it to loudspeaker. “Chelle, listen, this is really important. Jude isn’t my boyfriend. Yesterday, he tried to kidnap my real boyfriend’s daughter. It’s really important that you tell me what he said.”
“Oh my God!” The line crackled. “He tried to kidnap a little girl?”
“Yes. The police showed us footage, and it’s him. Shite, this is going to sound terrible, but I met with him recently, and he told me you two were engaged.”
A rush of air marked Chelle’s gasp. She took a moment to speak, the clatter of the café diminishing as if she’d gone into an office. “Okay, okay. Shite. He bought a coffee and stayed about an hour, chatting. He was charming and funny, and he asked what I’d been up to since university. He wanted a picture with me. To show you.”
“What day was this?”
She hummed, flustered, then gave me an answer—the day before he bumped into me at work.
“Did he say anything else, like where he lived or what he’d been doing?”
Her voice trembled. “He said he lived with you in the Highlands.”
I took a breath, steadying myself. The shock of the revelation eased, and I could think straight.
“Thank ye, Chelle. We’re going to try to find him now, but I need your direct phone number so the police can give you a call if they need to.”
I indicated my head from Max to the door, and he leapt up, catching my drift. We needed that police officer back in here.
“Anything.”
She rattled it off, and I scribbled on a notepad on a side table.
“Take care. Don’t walk home alone tonight,” I warned her. “I’m pretty sure it’s me he’s after, but he’s dragged you into this, too.”
“God. Stay safe. Text me when anything happens.” She paused. “Is your little girl okay?”
Something clicked in my mind, making Isla mine. I’d been so worried about having her love me, but I already loved her so fiercely. Aye, she was mine. “She is. We have her. Thank ye again.”
We hung up. Cameron filled in the police officer who then turned to me.
I counted off the points on my hand, summarising all I’d thought of during the call.
“Jude was a friend from university. He ‘found’ me again after several years and presented a fake life to make me comfortable with him. The travelling, the fiancée, all fantasy. I invited him for dinner and there, told him I was seeing Lochie. Then I ignored him while I was away which led him to try to hurt someone I loved. Anyone see anything different?”
Murmurs of agreement met my summary.
Gordain nodded. “Then he could’ve been responsible for what happened at your work. It’s less clear that he sniffed around Lochinvar’s old base, though if he’s around, he could be the person who broke into my office and found the base’s details. We know he was in England as he went to the other lass’s café, but he didnae know about Lochinvar until your dinner.”
Lochie stayed silent then smacked his fist into his hand. “He’s here. I’m certain of it. The hoax call-outs stopped when I was away. He’s watching us. Haunting us. It fits.”
His mountain rescue phone rang in a shrill tone.
We all shot our gazes to it.
Max gave a devilish grin. “Right on schedule.”
Lochie took the call then hung up. “An older couple lost beyond Hill House. Dispatch couldnae confirm if it’s a hoax.” He scanned the room, touching his gaze on all the members of the rescue service. “I believe this is now a hunt, naw a rescue. I cannae ask ye to stand up with me…”
“The fuck ye can’t,” Cameron barked.
“Ye must be joking,” Da said at the same time.
Multiple other members of my family chimed in with their own ready acceptance to help.
Lochie breathed hard. “Fine. We’re going out together.”
The people gathered instantly began talking. I snagged Lochie’s arm.
“I’m going to call him. If he’s here, I might be able to persuade him to come down.” I switched my gaze to the police officer. “Do we have enough to arrest Jude on?”
The woman lifted her chin. “I can take him to the station. A restraining order is possible, but we’ll need greater evidence to prove the rest beyond false representation.”
I nodded and pressed the button to call Jude, putting the phone on loudspeaker. Everyone silenced. The call rang and rang but eventually cut out.
“Next bet, Rupert. He might have more information on his nephew.” I tried the new number.
Lochie glowered as I dialled.
The line connected.
“Rupert?” I said.
“Cait, well, I am shocked. I think you made yourself perfectly clear in your message at work,” he replied.
“Listen—”
“No. I don’t think I will. There’s no need for us to discuss this further.”
“Wait—”
He hung up.
Fuck. I dialled back. No answer.
The police officer took the number and made her own attempt, frowning at the engaged tone.
I stewed. “He’s sulking,” I said to Lochie. “Ah God. I asked to be assigned a new manager in work, and Rupert’s kind of emotional. But he’s still our best bet for intelligence.”
I gathered my strength, knowing what I was about to say next wouldn’t go down well.
“I’m going to go and see him. He lives this side of Inverness. I can be there in forty minutes.”
Lochie clenched his jaw, a visible internal struggle playing out. He wanted to tell me to stay home.
“What if we’re wrong?” he ground out. “What if this Rupert is just as bad? Or what if Jude is there, waiting? Ye cannae walk into his home alone.”
A good point, though there had been the sound of children playing in the background to Rupert’s line. The risk felt low. I gestured across the room. “I’ll take Max as a bodyguard. He can’t go out on the hill with a broken arm but he can throw a punch with his left. Will that do?”
Then my world ground to a slow halt as reality caught up with me.
“You’re going out there to find him. Hunt him. But he’s hunting ye, too,” I said. “What if he tries to hurt ye? Stay here and look after Isla while my family goes out. He isn’t targeting any of them.”
He smiled softly. “Do ye really think I’d sit this one out? That piece of shite tried to take my daughter.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine. “He wants ye. There is nothing I willnae do to protect those I love. Do ye understand?”
I pulled him into the den and threw my arms around him, my powered-up indignation at Jude falling into worry for Lochie.
“I’m scared. We don’t know what he might do.”
“He doesnae know what I’m willing to do, either. Drive to see Rupert. Get whatever ye can from the man. Drive home and stay safe. I’ll be back with ye before ye know it.”
I clung to him. “I love ye.”
Lochie kissed me. “I’ll come back to ye. I swear it. My heart is yours.”
With a fast, hard press of his lips, he was gone.
* * *
A grumbling Max joined me on my drive up to the city. He tried to argue that his twin should take me, as they argued over everything, but he’d been shouted down.
I didn’t care who was here so long as I could contribute to finding Jude. Out in the mountains, I’d be more of a hazard than a help, particularly in the snow that steadily fell. But I couldn’t sit at home doing nothing.
We arrived at Rupert’s home fast. I knew where he lived from his bragging about the swanky house his wife’s family had bought them. Out on the road to Culloden Moor, the two-storey home was set back in its own manicured gardens.
I steamed down the track, sla
mming on the brakes before I leapt from the car, Max in pursuit.
The front door opened on our approach, a woman in the frame. Children scampered through the hall at her back.
She stared, her hand over her open mouth, and her focus jumped from Max to me. “Can I help you?”
“I need to speak to Rupert. Is he home?”
“Who are you?”
“Cait. I work with him. It’s important.”
The woman, his wife, I guessed, narrowed her eyes, but before she could speak, I added the reason for the request.
“It’s about Jude.”
Whatever she was about to say fizzled, and she centred herself then proffered a hand. “Follow me.”
We stepped into the house. The woman led us into the kitchen.
Rupert sat at the table, glasses on, his focus on his laptop screen. At our entrance, he peered up, then his lips formed a flat line. “Cait. I thought I told you I had nothing to say to you.”
“They’re here to talk to you about your nephew,” the woman sniped, then spun away and closed the kitchen door.
Rupert’s lip curled. “Jude? What has he done?”
I strode to the table and grabbed the back of a seat, almost vibrating with energy. “I need to know where he is.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there. We asked him to leave several days ago.”
“He was living here?”
Slowly, Rupert inclined his head. Interest registered in his expression. “I can tell from your faces that something has gone wrong. Tell me.”
I rapidly went through what had happened from the point Jude bumped into me until yesterday, including the lies he’d told and the kidnap attempt.
Rupert pulled a face. “I tried to warn you.”
“What, when?”
“In my office. I told you how important it was to take care with who parented your child. My brother was reckless. He slept around with whoever would have him, and Jude was the result. I never understood why that boy was so interested in you, though. He asked about you all the time, and there were pictures on his phone. I talked to Jill about it, and she said not to worry.”
“Pictures? Wait, Jill? Ye knew, and your PA knew?”
