Chapter 33 The Present
When Angus had got a massive fire blazing and they held steaming hot cups of chocolate in their hands, he picked up her mobile. Cassandra looked at his face and knew at once they were in trouble.
“Dead?”
He nodded. “I don’t know what’s happened but the back’s smashed in. Have you dropped it or stood on it?”
She felt her face go white. “No,” she whispered. “I remember leaving it here when I left this afternoon. I forgot to take it with me, but I’m sure it was okay. Someone’s been here. Oh God, Angus, what if—?”
“Steady. There’s no one here now.”
“Have you checked? What about your phone?”
“Yes, I promise I checked right through the house, including when I went upstairs to find you some paracetamol. The bathroom’s clear, too. Relax. Nothing can get in and harm us. We just have to sit this out until daylight. My phone’s flat, I’m afraid. I suppose I could go round the other houses and check if anyone has a working phone, but—”
“No, please don’t leave me. As you said before, we can’t help poor Julian. I really don’t want you wandering around in the dark, knowing something is lurking out there.”
Cassandra closed her eyes. She was overwrought. She jumped at every sound, every breath and movement around her. It was as if everything was a symbol of the terror which surrounded and threatened them. Surely such madness was too great for them to cope with? But she wasn’t alone. She couldn’t forget it. Opening her eyes, she looked around the room. She saw the reassuring sight of Angus as he heated some soup and cut thick doorsteps of crusty bread to go with it. The candlelight cast shadows across the newly painted ceiling and down the walls. Her clock ticked away upstairs…grinding away the minutes they had to wait for daylight. Inside their little circle of golden light, they existed, while outside their circle of refuge a homicidal maniac prowled and waited. He breathed foetid breath down the locks and watched for the first of their mistakes.
After they supped on warming and comforting, scalding Scotch broth, they sighed and leaned back on the settee in front of the fire, ready to talk more about their predicament. Both knew the other wouldn’t mention the unmentionable again. One of them should go outside and seek help, but from where would help come? They were trapped in a bloody hell, and talking helped keep the monster and devils at bay.
“You know the cave where we found Julian? I think I read about a lost cave some years back. There’s an old Scottish fable about a girl who danced and played the drums for the fairies or maybe it was the devil. I can’t quite remember.”
Cassandra turned and looked his way. “It would explain the stirrings in the air whenever I walked up there. Ghosts!” she shivered.
He nodded. “Your sister used to walk that way often.”
Cassandra sat up. “Mrs Campbell was telling me something about Susan and friends who met up there.”
“She had some historical pals from Edinburgh University or maybe it was Dundee…it was some time back. Perhaps they were searching for it. It would explain the skeleton and the shackles. And I always thought it was just a myth. Strange what you learn from odd events.”
“I thought Carol was alluding to something along those lines. Do you know she once mentioned to me about hearing things. I wondered if she was a bit schizophrenic, but I don’t know much about the condition.”
Angus startled her by suddenly snapping his fingers. “That’s what I came round to tell you today. I forgot once we got caught up in everything else. It was Carol who took Julian’s car.”
“Carol?”
“Yes. She can drive…her brothers taught her. Except not well enough, apparently. The police rang through to me because they couldn’t get hold of you, and they were too short-staffed to send a car over. Carol has always loved cars and somehow got the thing going without a key. It wouldn’t surprise me if her loutish brothers knew how to hot-wire and she picked it up from them. Anyway, she drove it into a ditch.”
“It explains the bruising on her face and why she kept saying sorry. I didn’t put two and two together at the time. Poor thing, she seemed terrified at whatever she’d done.”
“She would be. Her brothers are pretty brutal with her, I’m sorry to say.” He paused. “You mentioned schizophrenia earlier. I’m sure she doesn’t suffer from it clinically, but she’s clearly a troubled girl. I’ve always felt sorry for her living at the farm with no one to empathise with.”
“Her mother and brothers are horrible.”
Angus nodded. “Yes, they are. They are nothing like a normal family in any way.”
“Everyone here seems to lead strange family lives.”
Thinking of family life made Cassandra’s eyes suddenly fill with tears. It was something which had always been denied her when she was a child. Was that why she had always feared settling down with someone? Would a long-term relationship have turned sour like all her one-night stands or other casual associations? She blinked and shook away her tears, hoping Angus wouldn’t notice. But there must have been something in her voice which gave her away. Within seconds, he turned and reached for her hand.
“What is it? I don’t mean all today’s business.” He looked deep into her eyes as he searched her face. “Cassandra, you know what I said before, I don’t—”
“You’re married,” Cassandra said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Julian told me. You’re married, and I don’t want to make a fool of myself. You told me once before you…you—” She couldn’t finish, as she was finding it difficult to breathe.
“Hush. I remember what I said, but you haven’t got it entirely right.” He stared down at her hand as he gently ran his thumb over her wrist. “I’m very attracted to you, Cassandra. More than attracted if I’m honest. What I said before when I said we mustn’t get involved and I wasn’t free…well it’s not strictly true.”
A flicker of hope darted through her. “What then?” she whispered.
Angus lent his head on the back of the settee and let out a deep breath. “It’s true, I was married. Kirsten and I met at university. We dated, and once we’d finished our studies, we got hitched. We led a happy life together. We enjoyed similar things and planned a whole wonderful life ahead of us.” He stopped and swallowed before continuing. “One thing we really liked was skiing, and we’d go off most weekends if the conditions were good up at Glencoe of Nevis. After a few years, I became interested in more extreme skiing. Kirsten wasn’t so keen, but she joined in, as long as it wasn’t too dangerous. One year we travelled to Alaska, as I was keen to try out heli-skiing. I’d heard it was an amazing experience. It was, except Kirsten didn’t make it.”
Cassandra held her breath and felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck. “You mean…?”
Angus turned his troubled face back towards her. His deep blue eyes looked full of pain and sorrow. “She fell down a crevasse, and her body wasn’t recovered until the summer.”
“Oh my God, Angus, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“But don’t you see. It was entirely my fault because I didn’t listen to her. I insisted on taking her skiing to a place where there was danger. I understood all about the risks, but I knew it all. I was younger, of course, and probably pig-headed. I’ve never forgiven myself for not being able to save her.”
Cassandra risked leaning nearer and put her arms around him. “I’m sure it wasn’t all your fault. Surely, as an adult, she could have said no? Oh, Angus!”
He shook his head. “But it doesn’t make the pain go away, or the guilt. I told myself I’d never put another woman through anything so punishing.”
Cassandra hugged him closer. “But the only person who’s being punished is you. If she loved you, she would have followed you anywhere. I know I would.”
“Maybe, maybe,” he said softly against her neck, his breath warm against her skin. He was so close she could smell his musky man aroma and the soap on where he’d shaved that morning. “But she wasn�
�t you. Cassandra, I should have listened to her but, oh God…”
His arms slid around her, and she felt his hands slip through her hair, soft and caressing. She saw how his eyes darkened, he gazed at her lips, and then she felt as if she was in heaven when his mouth pressed against hers. Their lips parted, and she could feel his tongue gently exploring…she felt a heat rise through her as together they fell back against the cushions.
His hands travelled down her back and slipped beneath her sweater. Lying full-length against him, Cassandra felt his craving for her. She moaned against his lips, her breasts aching, her hand fluttered over his stomach. “Angus.”
Suddenly he stopped and pulled away. “We mustn’t. I swore I wouldn’t. I’m sorry, Cassandra, it’s impossible. Please.”
Frustrated and bewildered, Cassandra watched as Angus stood up and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “It was unforgivable of me. I think it’s better we forget it happened. Cassandra, please can we go back to being just good friends?”
***
Later, with the kisses still hanging in the air, they attempted to carry on as if nothing had happened between them. It was made all the more difficult and surreal because of the horrific scene they witnessed earlier and the thought of further distress.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell someone earlier?” he asked, when they were talking about living in Inverdarroch.
Cassandra turned her peaty brown eyes to his. “Because I thought no one would believe me. I did try with Elizabeth, and she just said, ‘Go back to Liverpool, you’re overwrought and imagining things, living on your own.’ You can’t imagine how it made me feel. I don’t like or trust Donald, and Fiona is so jealous of him, she’d think I had some covert plan up my sleeve to take him away from her. And as for the lot at the farm, well, I did think it was one of them for a while. Now I’m not sure if it is or not.”
Angus shook his head and smiled. “You really are stubborn, you know.”
She shivered and gave a sniff. “It’s true. After Natalie died and Susan took her own life, I lost my self-confidence. I thought staying here would help me get it back. I knew being here in her cottage would be difficult, but it was something I knew I had to do.”
“What do you really know about your sister?”
When Cassandra looked at him, he carried on with a small frown between his eyes, without giving her a chance to answer.
“I mean really know. What did she tell you about her early life?”
Cassandra looked away and bit her lip. “Do we have to talk about it?”
“Yes,” he said in a soft voice. “I do because I believe it’s important. What do you know?”
A crash followed by a thud from above made Cassandra jump and look towards the stairs. “What was that?” she whispered, her face draining of blood. Angus leapt up and put a finger to his lips. “Stay there,” he warned, before taking out his knife.
With her heart pounding in her chest, Cassandra watched as he mounted the stairs. When he disappeared out of sight, she went and stood on the lowest step. She thought she heard a muffled exclamation and bit her trembling lip to stop from calling out. It seemed forever before she saw Angus’s shadow appear on the landing.
“Well? What was it? It sounded like breaking glass.”
Angus shook his head and staggered over to the fire. Cassandra followed him and was appalled at how white he looked. “What?”
“Have you any whisky left?” His voice was hoarse. Cassandra immediately got out a bottle and poured out two hefty measures.
“Whatever you do, don’t go up there,” he croaked, once he had drained the glass. “It’s horrible.”
She looked up at the ceiling above, a chill running through her. “Is it…is it something to do with Julian?”
He nodded and Cassandra deduced for herself what the thud on the bedroom floor had been. She felt the room tilt, and a rush of blood hit her stomach. The next minute, she was being violently sick in the kitchen sink. What type of monster was it who could do that to a human corpse? Deliberately cut off a leg and throw it at the bedroom window?
Angus waited until Cassandra finished before washing her face and helping her back to the warmth of the fire. She was trembling all over and buried her face in the comfort of his arms while they knelt on the rug.
“I need to go out and get help, but how can I face a homicidal maniac wielding a sword? My knife is a poor match.” He tensed as he came to a decision. “Cassandra, I can’t let you sit here and face more danger. I have to go and somehow get help.” He gently pushed her away from him and rested his hands on her shoulders.
“No!” she groaned. “No! Please don’t put yourself in danger. You said before we have to stick it out. He can’t get in.”
“But he’s broken the window in one of your bedrooms. The wood must have been brittle with age…what about downstairs?”
“They’re fine. Julian made sure we had any rotten wood removed. Surely he wouldn’t smash them too?”
Angus stood up and moved towards the windows hidden behind the curtains. He lifted one corner and examined the frame.
“He’ll still be out there,” she moaned, her eyes following his moves.
“Undoubtedly…”
“Angus, it’s still snowing a blizzard and it’s pitch-black outside. He’ll have the advantage.”
“Maybe not. If I could get to Donald’s place. Two men against one should be a good bet. I’d raise the Campbells, but I doubt they’d bother turning out on a night like this.”
“Donald?”
“Aye. You may not like him, but he’s trustworthy. He’s not your problem, I’m sure of it.”
“Angus, I really don’t want you to go...I don’t think I can stand it. What if anything happens to one of us? Please. I don’t think I can cope with the thought of you…oh my love.” She stood up, rushed across the room, and held onto his arm. “I’m sorry. I know what you said before. But apart from being alone again with all this terrifying madness around me, I want you safe.” Tears rolled down her face, and she shuddered when his arm snaked round her waist, drawing her close.
“Damn. Why did I ever come here? Why didn’t I just bury Susan and sell this goddam awful place. Damn the whole lot living in this godforsaken hellhole. The Campbells, Fiona, Donald. I hate them all. Shit. I’ve had enough.”
Angus hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. He murmured against her skin. “They’re only human and trying to live their lives. We all have our share of problems, Cassandra. Okay, mo guradh milis, I’ll leave it for a while. Maybe once it begins to get light, we’ll make a dash for it together.”
Cassandra knew he sensed her terror and listened to her pleas. She nodded her agreement when he outlined a rudimentary plan.
“When it’s light, we’ll call on the others. I know, I know,” he shushed her protests down. “They haven’t proved very helpful to you all year, but someone will help, and it’s better than trying on our own. We’ll get the bastard.”
He led her back to the fire and threw another couple of stout logs onto the embers. The sudden rush of light and flame made the room seem more cheerful, despite the thought of the gruesome human remains lying somewhere in Cassandra’s second bedroom. She vowed that if they got out of this nightmare, the first thing she would do would be to get on to her solicitor and sell Shadow Vale.
Sitting huddled together on the hearth rug, they listened to the row outside. The slanting snow spat against the windows while flakes fell hissing onto the burning fire. Cassandra cast huge frightened eyes around the shadowed room and each time the wind gust or she heard a creak on the stairs, she shook. Angus was no better, and as she shuddered against his body, she knew by the way he fingered the knife lying on his lap he was just as afraid.
As the night dragged on, Cassandra mentioned how the murderer must have been in her cottage. “He removed my painting and somehow got into my barn. He must have known there was paint to throw around, and then he set light to my clothes. Oh God,
what if he has a key?” Her eyes looked huge and black against her ashen face.
She felt Angus stiffen against her. “Are you sure you didn’t forget to lock up sometimes? Could he have got in another way? The upstairs windows are decrepit…”
Cassandra felt a pall of despair settle around her. She was sure she knew the answer. “No. I always make sure the doors are locked and bolted. Don’t forget I come from Liverpool. There are plenty of break-ins there. And as for the windows, they’re far too small for a man to get through.”
“You say ‘he’. Have you seen his features?”
“No, but I‘d know him by his gestures, by his stance. There’s something about his mannerisms which remind me of someone. He also wore a hat or a scarf wrapped round his face, and his clothes were always dark.”
Angus exhaled. “He was always the same?”
“Yes. One thing…he must be athletic, as he always seemed to be one step ahead of me. When I tried to keep up, he gave me the slip, as if he was playing with me…waiting for the right moment to pounce.”
“He must be strong to carry part of Julian down with him from the mountain and through all the deep snow. A leg is a heavy item, Cassandra, though I hate mentioning it.”
“Ugh. Please don’t.”
“Cassandra, we have to discuss who it might be. We can’t put it off any longer.”
“I know.” She replied in a small voice.
“It’s not any of your neighbours, you know that. I’ve already said Donald is trustworthy, if a trifle unsavoury, as are the Campbells. The Blackmore girls…well, they’re not sisters actually, but perhaps you guessed that. They’ve been lovers for years.”
She looked at him with genuine sorrow in her eyes. “Funny, that’s just what Julian said. He guessed as soon as he met them. They must have been afraid of what people would say and have kept their real relationship secret. But how come Lorna has a child? Was she married at one time?”
“Their story is very sad and appalling too. Lorna’s child was the result of rape. Lorna was assaulted by a gang of thugs who got their kicks from attacking so-called gays. During the attack, Lorna got away from her assailants by jumping from a first-floor window. Unfortunately, she was injured and knocked unconscious. The thugs got away, and because she was comatose for some time, no one realised she was pregnant until later. When she recovered, it was too late to have the pregnancy terminated. No one knew about it, you see. She kept the baby, and Elizabeth has taken care of them ever since. I’ll tell you about it in more detail when we get out of this horror, and we will get out of this, I promise. But, Cassandra, we still haven’t talked about Susan.”
ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense) Page 22
