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

by Faith Mortimer

  She looked away when her eyes filled with tears. She was shocked about poor Lorna, and she was afraid because she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. “I know.”

  Chapter 34 The Present

  She felt the tension coming from him, radiating through his body and along his legs. He was her knight, without the gleaming white charger and shining armour. Instead he wore a bottle-green jacket, Barbour scarf, dark tan boots, and his weapon was a foot-long dirk. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, there were faint traces of blood on his face, his hair was ruffled from the wind and wet, and his face showed a five-o’clock shadow.

  He looked at her and gave a small rueful grin. “You can’t get out of it. There are so many loose threads, and I think between us we know most of the answers.”

  When she didn’t say anything, he carried on. “You mentioned Carol and her troubled mind earlier. She’s harmless. It’s Fiona who’s more of the schizophrenic. She loves Donald to distraction. She’s completely obsessed with him and approached Susan on more than one occasion about selling the cottage to him. According to Susan, Fiona thought that if she persuaded her to sell, it would be her gift to Donald and he would marry her. But he’s just playing her along. What she doesn’t know is he messes with half of the girls in town when he goes there drinking. Anyway, Susan refused to sell, point blank, and Fiona was livid. Susan was positive at one stage it was Fiona who killed her dog, despite having no proof. When Susan died, even I wondered if she’d taken her own life or if Fiona had played a part. Susan had sleeping tablets, I know, because she confessed she couldn’t sleep after she returned from England, and I once picked her prescription up for her.”

  Cassandra turned horrified eyes to him, wondering where all this was going to end. “What? How dreadful! To think she’s been trying to be my friend ever since I’ve been here. Now I know why.” A sudden thought ran through her. “Do you think Susan knew about the cave? Or Fiona did?”

  He nodded. “It’s possible. Susan thought Goldie had been tied up for a few days. But I certainly think Fiona knows about it even if she didn’t actually do anything.”

  She frowned. “But you can’t think it is Fiona, surely?”

  “No. Almost certainly not. But I’m coming to that.”

  There was an increased blast down the chimney, causing swirls of smoke to enter the room. Cassandra thought about the dense whiteness outside, and the howling frenzy battering against her doors and windows. Angus may have been as terrified as she was, but he inspired confidence in her. He was obviously intellectual, and normally his whole demeanour was peaceful, but he had shown himself capable of bravery. He had offered to go outside and find help; he rushed upstairs when the window was smashed, and he was obviously prepared to protect her. She thought he was strong and brave, as well as being gentle and caring.

  She somehow knew the murderer was a coward. He preferred frightening and killing women, while venting his fury on Julian who happened to be staying with Cassandra and unfortunate enough to meet him unarmed on the mountaintop.

  Her attention switched to Angus as she realised what he was saying. “Sorry, can you repeat what you just said?”

  “I said, what do you remember of your brother?”

  “I don’t understand. Rupert? Um…not much.” Her heart felt as if it had leapt into her throat and was hammering like mad against her windpipe making it difficult to breathe.” She fidgeted and plucked at the fringing on the cushion at her side.

  “I understand how this must be difficult for you, but Susan—”

  “Stop! I know what you’re trying to say. Susan told me, and at the time I just couldn’t believe her. I wouldn’t listen. Not her brother, not our brother! It was too horrible for words.”

  Angus looked both sympathetic and apologetic at once. Maintaining direct eye contact he held onto her elbows and gave them a tender squeeze. “I know, and I’m sorry, darling, but it seems it was true.”

  Cassandra felt hot tears slide down her cheeks and she gulped. “But why? Susan was so young. She must have been so frightened and disturbed.”

  “That sort of thing is always terrifying for young children. You know it’s why she left home don’t you? To get away from him.”

  She nodded and, reaching for a tissue from her pocket, sobbed. “She told me when we met in Liverpool, just before she came back here. But I still couldn’t believe her. And then, once she died, I sat and went through everything. Gradually, I remembered things about my family I’d hidden away for years. Rupert left a few years after her. It was awful looking back because I didn’t really understand.”

  She looked away as her face flamed. “I did everything Susan had done years before. I went to my parents…well, my mother first, only she didn’t believe anything I said. Rupert was her only son and she loved him much more than Susan and me. She said I was as bad as my sister, making up lies about our brother. She said he’d never do anything as disgusting as that. When she refused to listen, I went to Father. He was nearly as bad.”

  “It must be hard for parents to believe a son of theirs is violating his sister.”

  Cassandra threw him a look. “I suppose I was lucky he never got that far with me. But I sensed his evil and made a real fuss. Eventually there was a huge row and he left. Mother cried and said I’d ruined her life, and Daddy looked furious. We never spoke of it again, and because it was so disturbing, I forgot about it. I must have completely blotted it out. I swear I never remembered a thing until Susan confessed it all to me.” She swallowed hard as tears threatened once more.

  “Unwanted sexual advances from an adult are distressing for the victim, but when they are directed towards a child who is unable to repel the attentions of an adult, a grave barrier is crossed. Hush, it’s okay now. I’m here with you, and I believe everything you’ve said.”

  “But don’t you see? No one listened. And it’s been the story of my life. I didn’t listen to Susan over Natalie or about Rupert’s behaviour. Our parents adamantly refuted Susan’s claims, resulting in her leaving home, and they ignored my pleas until it was almost too late.”

  She fell quiet for a moment and then looked into Angus’s eyes with a puzzled frown. “But, Angus, why is this so important? Why did we have to talk about this dreadful secret? I would much prefer to have kept it hidden. I’ve done okay so far.”

  When he didn’t answer, she fell back against the cushions, shock written all over her face.

  “No!”

  “I think so.”

  “But why? Rupert went to Thailand. I assumed he was dead because I thought none of us heard from him again and it was so long ago!” she cried. “Did Susan know? Oh my God! Angus, please tell me we’re wrong. Not Rupert. Please tell me he didn’t kill Susan and Julian. Everything is bad enough without my brother being a murderer—a devil monster. I can’t bear it.”

  Angus gathered Cassandra in his arms and crushed her to his chest, her face pressed into the front of his sweater. Eventually her sobbing subsided, and she sat back, gently pushing him away.

  “Susan spent an afternoon telling me everything, Cassandra. She was afraid Rupert had tracked her down, you see. Although she was a successful sculptor, she lived a life of almost hermit-like existence. Few friends visited, as I’ve already told you. Anyway, she told me what had been happening to her and how afraid she was. She still couldn’t decide whether it was Fiona or Rupert who’d killed her dog, but as things went on, she became more and more certain her brother wasn’t dead.”

  “But even so, why would he stalk Susan, let alone murder her?”

  “Susan thought he still bore a grudge. He left home penniless, and she assumed your parents had written him out of their will. Only you would inherit.”

  Cassandra nodded. “It’s true. They left me everything, and the house was worth a small fortune. I invested some of the residue money after I’d bought a flat. It’s one of the reasons I can afford to live here for a year without a salary.”

  “Anyway, Susan was s
ure he was after her for revenge. She’d split on him and upset his easy life.”

  “It all makes sense. He must have been incredibly sick to have been like that in the first place. And where do I and Julian fit in?”

  “I’m assuming he wants revenge on you both for disturbing his cosy arrangement. Julian was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t know. Maybe he was jealous in a warped sense, seeing him as some sort of enemy adversary. A challenger.”

  “Only Julian and I were never anything,” she murmured. “We were just friends.”

  They were interrupted by a light moving randomly over the windows at the back of the house. “What the—?” Angus stood up and grabbed the poker from the fire place. He stood poised facing the curtained windows, poker in one hand, and his knife in the other. He edged towards the drapes, lifted a corner and peered out. Cassandra blew out the candles and crept close behind him, her teeth chattering as she tried to look over his shoulder.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  The light was now still and directed on the cottage. Slowly the white beam of light came towards them, but they could make else nothing out. The light wavered as it was swept down to the ground. They could see the white mounds of snow covering shrubs and bushes in the garden in the light, the rear fence almost buried. Snowflakes were still falling as the light came closer. There was a frantic wavering and a crash against the wall. Cassandra screamed and jumped back, twisting her ankle as she fell.

  “Bloody hell! I’m going out. He must be stopped once and for all,” Angus said whirling round and grabbing her arm pulled her upright. “Lock and bolt the door after me. He can’t get in, the windows are too small. You could even go in the bathroom and lock the door and lean against it. I won’t be long. We need help. The Campbell men may be thugs, but they’re strong.”

  Cassandra was speechless, too terrified to utter a sound as he marched over to the door. He had said he wouldn’t leave her. She glanced back to the window and through the chink in the curtain saw a face pressed against the glass. Amidst the frost patterns, Cassandra saw a flattened nose and a mouth drawn back in a devilish grin, the tip of his sword at the level of his eyes. She lifted a trembling hand and pointed.

  “Shit!” Angus muttered when his eyes followed her gesture. “Shit!” He rushed back to the door and ensured the bolt was pushed home. Once satisfied the door was secure he looked back at the window which was now empty. “What manner of maniac is he? Killing people and threatening them with swords.” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s okay, Cassandra. I’m sorry. I won’t leave you. It’s just because I was so furious, I wanted to beat the hell out of him and forgot he was armed with that thing.”

  Finding her voice she replied quietly. “If only we had a gun. We could have shot him.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m a poor protector.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “Come back to the fire.”

  “Just hold me a bit longer. I don’t want you disappearing outside, and I’m not ready to let go of you.”

  “Mo guradh milis, I don’t want to ever let you go.”

  They sank down on the settee, and Cassandra realised her legs were shaking. She was finding it hard to concentrate. There was a cold-blooded murderer lurking outside, and inside she was with the man she loved. And he was looking at her with such a tender smile, she could only hope he felt the same. He stroked her arm, and she laid her head upon his chest. Despite the terror outside, sitting cuddled up with Angus seemed the most natural thing to do.

  “I think we should try and relax until dawn. Once it’s light, we’ll make a run for it, but together. I realise now what he’s trying to do. He wants to separate us. He knows together we’re a lot stronger than either of us on our own.”

  “Relax?” Cassandra didn’t think there was much hope, but her stomach had settled down and she was no longer shaking. Angus pulled the throw off the settee, and together with the plump cushions, spread them on the hearth rug. He made sure the gap showing in the curtain earlier was closed before settling down beside her. Without a word they snuggled together, Cassandra’s head nestled in against his shoulder, and he stroked her cheek and neck. She thought nothing had ever felt so good: lying there, pretending everything was all right.

  “Will we be okay, Angus? Will we get out of this unharmed? Truthfully, please.”

  “I think I should take back what I said earlier.”

  She swivelled her head round so she could look up into his face. She hardly dared breathe in case she had misunderstood. “Earlier?”

  She felt his chin brush against the top of her head. “I was wrong. We deserve to give it a try. I think we could have a good life together.”

  She closed her eyes and offered up a prayer. Please God, let everything be all right. She thought about what Angus had just said and realised that for the first time in years, she felt feminine, excited, and alive.

  Chapter 35 The Present

  Cassandra had been dozing and woke stiff and cold from lying on the floor. She opened her eyes and instantly remembered where she was. “Please let it be morning,” she whispered. Carefully not to waken Angus, she crawled from under the rug and tiptoed over to one of the windows. She couldn’t see any difference in the dark sky, yet knew daylight was only a couple of hours away. She replenished the smouldering fire with new logs and noticed the wood basket was almost empty. Unless something happened soon, they would have to unlock the front door and get a fresh stock in. It was something she didn’t want to think about.

  She opened a new box of candles and lit them. She threw the stubs of candlewax on the fire and saw Angus watching her from the floor. “Good morning,” he said and smiled.

  His smile did funny things to her stomach as she remembered what they talked about before falling asleep. Knowing there was the possibility of a future together, it was all the more imperative they beat this maniac before he got to one of them.

  Cassandra returned his smile, feeling shy and vulnerable. “It’s still early, but would you like some tea?”

  “Would I!” He stood up, stretched, and picked up his knife, tucking it in his waistband. She saw he kept the poker in a handy place too, where either of them could grab it in a hurry. After folding the blanket and arranging the cushions back onto the settee, she saw him eyeing their wood supply and guessed what he was thinking.

  There was plenty of food and water, which amazingly was still running in the tap, but unless they started burning the furniture, they needed to get more wood. Even the lack of electricity wasn’t as imperative as keeping warm. They had a gas hob for cooking, and it was so cold, the freezer wouldn’t defrost for days. “We need more wood,” he said with a blank expression. Cassandra saw he was looking indifferent. She hid a smile, guessing he was trying to keep her calm.

  Her stomach took a nosedive at the thought of unlocking the door. What if he was still prowling around the garden? They wouldn’t stand a chance against his sword, and like a real coward she knew if she had been alone, she would rather have stayed indoors and frozen to death.

  Instead, saying nothing, she nodded in agreement. “But only if we go together. You take the knife, and I’ll carry the poker. Better still, I’ll take a kitchen knife too.” She dashed towards the drawer and selected the biggest, longest, and sharpest knife she possessed and like Angus tucked it in her jeans belt. By mutual agreement they toured the house, peeking out of each window until they were satisfied there was no one skulking outside.

  The snowstorm hadn’t abated, and Angus reckoned it was the worst he had ever witnessed in Inverdarroch. “I’ve learnt the hard way never to underestimate mountainous areas.”

  Cassandra saw how his mouth tightened and knew he was referring to his wife’s disastrous skiing accident. She smiled in a sympathetic fashion and nodded, knowing it was something he would never forget.

  Upstairs, the icicles hanging from the roof were almost a foot in length, and Cassandra remarked how they resembled daggers. The snow was being blown
by the wind, and it was difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. They couldn’t see any fresh tracks in the garden.

  “Maybe he’s gone,” she suggested. “How could anyone have survived this?”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. He’s out there somewhere, and my guess is he has somewhere warm to shelter when it gets too cold for him. Possibly the barn at the farm or a shed somewhere. There’s always plenty of straw, and the cattle give off heat. He could have dossed down there.”

  The time had come, and Cassandra knew they couldn’t put it off any longer. With their coats and scarves wrapped round them and armed with their weapons, Angus quietly unlocked the door. He had already told Cassandra to stand in the doorway and keep a lookout. The shed was sited off to her right, and she stood guard while he disappeared inside. She realised Angus had forgotten to take a light with him, in all the panic, and she heard him muttering as he groped his way around the black hole. It seemed like ages before he staggered back to her and dumped the wood inside the door. Biting back a plea, she watched as he went back for another load. The wind tore at her coat and scarf, pulling it away from her head as she stared into the dark. The visibility was impossibly bad—she couldn’t see anything ahead—and she felt desperately vulnerable and exposed as she stood on the step.

  When he finally re-appeared the second time, she was almost beside herself with fear. All around her, the snow was incredibly deep and frozen on top, and she guessed by looking at the shrubs it was at least mid-thigh to waist deep in the deepest snowdrifts. Angus cast a look behind. She followed his gaze, but there was nothing following him. The path was empty. No devil had walked that way. Not that time.