ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense)

by Faith Mortimer

  As he advanced, Cassandra backed away. She felt a drag at her legs, as if they had been turned to jelly; speech was impossible despite her earlier resolve to have it out with him. She found it difficult to breathe as the wind gathered in strength and howled like a banshee around her head. Suddenly, he lifted the sword, and she knew it was all over. With strength she found from deep inside, Cassandra turned and ran.

  She heard a sobbing breath following her and, in terror, drew on her reserves and increased her pace. It wasn’t until she had covered fifty feet that she realised the rasping breath was her own. She fought her way through what felt like a wild gale, slipping and sliding on the uneven rocks covered in a deep layer of snow. Conscious she could never outrun him, Cassandra had to find a place to hide. Her breath was hot and rasping in her throat; she ran between a cleft in the cairn, tripped, and fell.

  She was tumbling over and over, falling down, down. There was no time to shriek, as all air was knocked from her as she came to a sudden hard and painful stop. Cassandra couldn’t even find the breath to groan. She lay still. Every bone in her body felt jarred; her back and legs bruised and throbbing. She attempted to move and bit her lower lip as a shaft of pain shot through her right arm, and mercifully, she blacked out.

  ***

  Cassandra opened her eyes to a perfect blackness. Where was she? She felt muzzy and disorientated, not knowing what the devil had happened. She just knew something wasn’t right, and then with sudden clarity she remembered! She had fallen between rocks which were half-hidden by stunted bushes. She recalled falling down what must have been a passage of some sort. She gave an involuntary whimper, when she again felt the excruciating pain in her arm. She didn’t need a medical degree to guess it was broken.

  As Cassandra lay in the dark, more memories came flooding back to her. When she remembered being chased by the watcher, terror took hold of her again. She couldn’t remain where she was, but she had to be sure she was alone. Supporting her arm she shuffled into a sitting position and stifling back a moan, she peered into the blackness. She saw that as her eyes adjusted, there was a faint natural light entering the passage from above her head.

  Taking it slowly, because her head was swimming, she looked all around. She couldn’t discern any shapes in the dark, but she could smell something familiar. She sniffed again and stiffened when she realised what it was. Cassandra gave a sob of relief. The smell was Julian’s Hugo Boss aftershave. My God! Was he down here, too? Was it possible she had found him? “Julian?”

  In excitement she scrabbled onto her knees. If only she had brought a torch! It was then she remembered putting some matches into her trouser pocket earlier that day after relighting the fire. With difficulty, she reached into her right pocket with her other hand and drew out the matches. Whimpering with pain, she held a match between her fingers and struck the box.

  The little ring of yellow light dazzled her for a moment. She held it above her head so that she could look around her. She immediately saw a passage above her head where the weak light was filtering through. Looking to her left and right and in front, she realised she was in a small cave. As the match burnt down, she lit another and was almost thrilled on seeing pieces of dried heather branches at her feet. They were perfect to use as a torch.

  Cassandra held the flaming branch higher and looked behind her. What she saw made her cry out and nearly drop the light. Lying not ten feet away was Julian.

  Chapter 30 On Devil’s Brae

  Ever since Cassandra’s phone call the day before, Angus’s life had become complicated. No, he corrected himself. From the first time they met, things had been turned upside down. On their original meeting, Angus discovered her traipsing over the heather during the autumn. He remembered Cassandra had an impressive-looking camera slung around her neck, a smudge or two of mud on her cheek, and something clicked inside. He was intrigued. She was nothing like the women he usually met and completely the opposite from his own beautiful, red-haired, petite Kirsten.

  For a start, Cassandra was what he would have called a ‘statuesque’ woman: long-limbed, broad-shouldered, soft breasts, and with a mane of unruly mid-brown hair. She had a lovely mouth, and her face was more than interesting enough to appeal. Her best feature, he considered, was her eyes. Oval-shaped, the colour of warm peat and fringed with thick long lashes.

  At their second meeting, when he stumbled upon her, almost catatonic with fright, he recognised more than just plain interest on his part. There was something about Cassandra which brought out his compassionate nature, and for the first time in years he felt a definite flicker of sexual attraction.

  It was this which threw him into a quandary. Did he want the complication of having an affair or even falling in love with another woman? The thought made him ambivalent towards her—he who was usually so decisive in all other matters.

  As time moved on, and Angus and Cassandra met up more often, there was a subtle change in their relationship. They shared a taste for the same literature, food and wine, enjoyed a good healthy political argument, yet at the same time respected each other’s privacy.

  But she brought other problems into his life as well. How much should he tell her? He hadn’t exactly been honest with Cassandra from the start. He knew certain things about her deceased sister, and he guessed some aspects from Susan’s reticence to explain more about her past life. The same could be true for other members of the hamlet. Inverdarroch seemed to attract and afford shelter for certain unfortunate characters. Everyone knew about them, but there was an unspoken agreement to keep quiet and allow the families to live their lives unobtrusively behind closed doors. Even Angus had his secrets and wanted nothing more than to live undisturbed. Personal privacy was sacrosanct.

  When Susan died and Cassandra turned up, Angus wondered how much she knew. How far had Susan gone in telling her younger sister her deepest fear and sorrow?

  He recalled how she said it had all started. Odd, insidious things happened to Susan, which gradually became more sinister as the months progressed. Susan kept calm about these events until her dog went missing, and then she confided in Angus. Early on, Angus considered Susan to be fabricating these stories. What she told him was too far-fetched to be believable. When Goldie was eventually found, Susan was positive she had been restrained somewhere and then killed. She was beside herself with grief at the time, and it was this latest act of evil which made her decide to find Cassandra. Susan told Angus she had a new piece of commissioned sculpture to work on in England, and it was the perfect time to locate Cassandra while she was there. With luck, the sisters would have a chance to catch up with their lives. Unfortunately, Susan died shortly afterwards and well before the two women could spend any real time together.

  Looking back, Angus couldn’t help thinking he should have done something earlier. Why did he doubt Susan? She was foremost an honest person, despite her outlandish ideas and odd ways. As for Cassandra, he let his attraction to her and his fears of personal involvement prevent him from intruding on her privacy and grief. He had acted like an idiot when really he should have forced her to tell him what she knew…if anything.

  He sighed. He had hurt and annoyed Cassandra the day before, but he truly hadn’t seen Julian or his car. Angus admitted to having faults, but lying wasn’t one of them. But as the Porsche had been found, albeit off the road with its two nearside wheels in a ditch, Cassandra’s story must have been true. He hadn’t believed Cassandra was in any real danger, but one too many sinister events had occurred for him to feel comfortable. He needed to speak to Cassandra and tell her everything he knew.

  After hearing from the police about Julian’s car, Angus dashed out of the house and ran to tell Cassandra. He pounded on her door before dialling her mobile. “Damn!” he exclaimed in irritation when he heard it ringing from inside her cottage. She hadn’t bothered taking it with her—that much was obvious. Exasperated and not knowing what to do next, he walked back towards the lane. A twitch from the curtains in t
he windows opposite caught his eye, and Angus knew Elizabeth Blackmore was watching. He hesitated. Should he ask Elizabeth if she knew where Cassandra was or when she left the cottage?

  Angus had a dilemma. Where should he begin looking for Cassandra? Her car was parked on the side of the road, so wherever she was, she was on foot. He hoped she had taken care to wrap up well, as large fat snowflakes were falling thick and fast.

  He turned back to the Blackmore house and saw Elizabeth huddled in the doorway.

  “What’s up?” she called, her voice almost being carried away in the wind.

  “Cassandra…have you seen her? Do you know where she’s gone?” Angus shouted before crossing over the lane.

  “She went out walking about half an hour ago.”

  “Is Thomas with you this weekend?” Angus suddenly asked and waited while Elizabeth sized up the question.

  “What if he is?” she replied, glancing behind her and pulling the door to.

  “Answer me, dammit. Is he staying with you?”

  “Yes, and there’s no need to be rude. Why do you need to know?”

  “Is he indoors or has he gone off on one of his jaunts?”

  “I think he’s upstairs, but I’m not sure. He’s nursing a bad night after a head cold. Said he couldn’t sleep and wanted a lie-in. Why?”

  Thomas was often allowed home for holidays; he enjoyed being with his mother, and his physicians said he was a model patient. Angus knew he loved the glen and liked nothing better than learning about country ways. Elizabeth had told Angus briefly about Thomas and his schizophrenic condition years ago, but again the sanctity of privacy was respected, and he didn’t pry.

  “There’s bad weather coming. The latest forecast says heavy snow is due for the next forty-eight hours with high winds and it’ll cause blizzards. Make sure Thomas stays in, Elizabeth. Don’t let him talk Lorna into going out because he may get lost. Thomas may think he knows these hills, but they’re dangerous places in a snowstorm.”

  The look she returned Angus was grave, and she gave a slow nod. “Thank you for caring. You’re a kind man, Angus. There’s plenty who wouldn’t. I’m sorry to have snapped at you before.”

  “No I was rude. I’m worried about Cassandra. She’s another who should stay put indoors. I’m going to try to find her. She can’t have gone too far. See you later.”

  He gave a brief wave and turned away to trudge along the road in the snow. Which direction would she have taken? Angus paused to think, and as he did, he glanced up towards the Devil’s Brae. Of course, there was only one direction she would take; he should have known how her mind worked by this time. In the gathering gloom, he spied a figure climbing towards the summit. His heart swooped towards his boots.

  ***

  Cassandra shuffled to her knees. It wasn’t easy to see, as she was holding the burning torch in one hand, while her other arm was completely immobile. Feeling faint and sobbing in pain, she half crawled, half walked to where Julian lay. “Julian,” she whispered. “Julian, can you hear me? It’s Cassie.” She forced herself to look at his face which filled her with revulsion. It was covered in blood, his nose and left cheek sliced open to the bone. She turned away from the sight, and as her gaze travelled down his body her eyes widened even more.

  Sweat poured into her eyes as she stared down at the inert body. Beneath and around him, the ground was soaked with dark pooled blood. Her gaze shifted further, and she whimpered. Julian’s left leg was almost severed above the knee. She could see the blue-white exposed bone. Shaking violently, she retched until her stomach was empty.

  Sobbing in terror and remorse, she finally wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve and laid the torch on a nearby boulder. She had to be sure. Holding her breath, she reached out and touched his shoulder. Seeing no response, she felt his forehead.

  Julian’s skin was as cold and rigid as the stone scattered around the cave. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” she sobbed rocking back and forth. “What has he done to you?”

  Cassandra gradually calmed down, forcing back her tears and getting her breathing under control. What the hell was she to do? Feeling uncomfortable and shocked, sitting near a corpse, she moved away from Julian’s body and leant back against the stone wall. The torch flickered as the flame guttered. Cassandra felt the same illogical and terrified feeling of being alone in the dark with a mutilated body creep through her. There had to be more kindling. Once she got a tiny fire going, she looked for an escape route. She had to get a grip!

  She remembered tripping over as she ran in blind panic between the cleft in the rocks. Looking up at the light above she felt a slight draft and assumed she must have fallen down a hole. The sides of the passage leading upwards were too smooth to climb even if she hadn’t been injured. She caught her breath as she realised her predicament. No one knew where she was, and she had no way of letting anyone know. She felt like crying again when she realised how stupid she was to forget her phone. Glancing at her wristwatch, she saw she had been away from home for over an hour and a half. How long had she lain unconscious?

  Cassandra gingerly felt her way around the cavern. The floor was uneven and rocky, perilous in the gloomy light. Who knew if there were other holes to fall down? She was shaking with fear as she explored her surroundings. It was easy to imagine all sorts of horrors if the devil outside discovered where she was hiding.

  What if he was still prowling around, looking for her? She was certain he had seen her. A cold chill swept over her. Was this how he managed to disappear so easily those times she had seen him? If he knew about this passage and cave, she was doomed. Cassandra was certain he was responsible for maiming Julian with his sword, and no doubt she would suffer the same fate. She forced herself to keep calm, even though she felt like screaming. She had to think logically.

  The killer had obviously slashed at Julian as they met on the hill yesterday afternoon. She hadn’t heard anything, which meant Julian was taken by surprise. But seeing as he was there and not lying out in the open, he must have got away at some stage. He might even have fallen through the same hole as she. The monster couldn’t know Julian was down here…could he?

  Cassandra tried to take comfort from her thoughts. She knew it was important to stay in control. Taking a deep breath, she continued to search the cave for another means of escape. It was at the back of the cave she discovered something so bizarre, it made her blood run cold.

  Brittle human bones lay upon a stone ledge, a silver chain and dark-mauve pendant broken and scattered on the floor. A pair of iron leg manacles was attached to the wall.

  Cassandra felt her knees buckle and a shudder ran though her. What was this place?

  Chapter 31 On Devil’s Brae

  Angus didn’t stop to think. All he knew was the weather was turning for the worse; Cassandra was in danger from a madman somewhere out there in the wilds and all alone. With Elizabeth standing open-mouthed and watching in her doorway, he suddenly whirled around and hurried towards the hills.

  He had been so stupid to let things get out of hand. He should have believed Cassandra, but before she arrived, he should have believed Susan. So many things added up; too bad he hadn’t taken them seriously before.

  ***

  Cassandra refused to be any more terrified by human bones and leg manacles than she already was. She could see the yellow bones were ancient: hundreds of years old, and the leg irons were rusty and decrepit. She felt sure she hadn’t stumbled on a scene of human trafficking. She set her face as if she was going to war. She was determined to get out of the place in one piece and before the devil madman returned. She hadn’t seen his face clearly in the murky weather outside, but she still felt he looked oddly familiar. What was it that made him seem like she knew him? If only she didn’t feel so scared and panicky, she could have given it more thought and come up with the answer.

  Still holding the burning torch, she pressed herself against the wall of the cave and bypassed the grisly remains. The air felt colder ba
ck there and less stale. Suddenly, she realised the ground beneath her was sloping upwards. It was a gentle incline at first, and then, after what she judged to be about fifty paces or more, it became a much steeper ascent. As she climbed, she noticed a couple of dark, narrow passages going off from the main one. She shrank past one cavernous black hole fearing something was going to jump out at her. Her shoulder throbbed, and she felt nauseated once more. Cassandra realised her head was pounding in sympathy with her injury, and she stopped to get her breath back. While she waited for her body to recover, she thought she heard a noise further along the passage. What if the killer was waiting for her around the corner? She shivered violently and realised that if someone was coming, they would see her pathetic little light before they saw her. Fighting back a whimper, she scrambled down the nearest and smallest of passages and squeezed behind a pile of fallen rocks. With the greatest of strong will, she closed her eyes, offered up a prayer to whomever might be keeping watch over her and doused her light.

  In the darkness, she waited.

  Slowly, the blackness enveloping her began to thin, and she realised someone, something, was walking down the passageway. Cassandra trembled. Would he smell the smoke from her spent torch? She felt tears roll down her cheeks as she watched the oncoming light quiver and wobble against the walls of the cavern. Oh God! Please don’t let him find me. She saw the yellow beam of light from his torch before she saw his grotesque shadow against the ceiling and slide round the corners. Her heart thudded in her chest, constricting her breathing, and she thought whoever was approaching would hear the ticking from her watch as it ground the seconds away.

  The shadow loomed above and around her, threatening, a menace in the moving darkness as it paused. Cassandra held her breath when he passed on down the passage, a faint chink of metal against the stone, a scrape along the path.