“Calm down, laddie. Concentrate on driving while I tell you what I know.”
“Tell me about Anna!”
“Things have not been the same on the estate since Mr. Alistair’s father became ill and moved to London. I lost my job when the son took over and appointed a new ghillie.”
Luke rubbed his chin. “Yeah, yeah. Get to the point, man.”
Sandy smiled benevolently. “I’ve followed MacKinnon’s every move since he arrived on the estate. Of course the man’s too stupid to notice he’s being stalked like a stag. I’ve seen the way he watches Anna. I can tell you, the man is pure evil.”
“Grant said MacKinnon was holding Anna in the cellar of a ruined farmhouse, but he was about to move her. Any idea where MacKinnon would take her?”
Sandy thought for a moment. “There are umpteen empty farmhouses and ruined cottages, not to mention bothies on the estate. He could be holding her in any one of them. It would take hours to search them all.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Tell me where to go.”
“Don’t be so hasty, laddie. MacKinnon’s a devious bastard. He’ll want to be sure he’s not disturbed. You said he was about to move her.”
“For all we know, he could be dumping her body in the loch.”
“He won’t do that. He’d have to drive through the village, and run the risk of being seen.”
“Come on, Sandy, time’s running out. Think man! Think!”
Sandy rubbed his whiskery chin. “There’s an old ice-house near the walled garden. It’s about a half mile from Killilan House. I reckon that’s where he’ll take her.”
“Tell me how to get there, and you had better do it now!”
“I’ll do better than that laddie, I’ll come with you. It’s the least I can do for Alisha’s granddaughter.”
Luke was about to argue, but the grim determination in the older man’s face told him he’d be wasting his time.
“Which way?”
“Turn right by the stable block. We’ll leave the pickup there and go the rest of the way on foot.”
A short time later, Luke crouched behind the crumbling masonry of the walled garden and waited for Sandy. Somewhere in the trees above his head an owl hooted. He’d always hated stakeouts, waiting for the bad guys to show up. The silence and the familiar rush of adrenaline, accompanied by a slight feeling of tension and uneasiness, always made his palms itch. Too many things could go wrong, and tonight was no exception. If Sandy’s description of MacKinnon was right, things could turn to from sugar to shit at any moment.
Always prepare for the worst; that was his motto. He removed his gun from its specially designed holster. It was loaded. The safety catch was on. The scene was set. All he needed were the players.
Leaves rustling alerted him to the older man’s presence. Sandy knelt down beside him and whispered in his ear.
“MacKinnon’s vehicle has just turned into the back drive. He should be here in a minute.”
“Is he alone?”
“We’ll know soon enough.”
Luke nodded. Show time.
Staying low, he and Sandy pushed their way through overgrown bushes and bracken toward the ice-house. No more than a tunnel carved into the hillside, it stood as a reminder of days long past. With only one way in and out, it was a tactical nightmare.
Overhanging ferns partly concealed the small metal door. Luke and Sandy positioned themselves to one side of the doorway and sat down. They didn’t have long to wait.
A twig snapped. The owl hooted once more. Someone cursed.
Finally, a shadowy figure carrying something large across its shoulders emerged from the tree-lined pathway. Luke’s eyes narrowed as he tried to distinguish the man in the moonlight. At that moment he would have given anything for a pair of high-tech night vision goggles. He couldn’t be sure it was MacKinnon.
His gut told him it was.
And that Anna was with him.
***
Anna didn’t know what was worse, MacKinnon’s sour body odour or the constant pounding in her head. Both made her want to vomit.
He carried her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a child. She tried to hold her head up to see where he was taking her, but the strain on her neck muscles made her nausea worse. Hysteria bubbled in her throat and she wondered how she had come to be in such a predicament.
Her hipbone banged against a wall. Pain ripped through her body and added to the nausea. Something sticky clung to her skin and she felt something crawl through her hair. A spider? She shivered.
Then the air changed. It was no longer musty and damp. She breathed in. The scent of pine filled her nostrils. She was in the forest.
All at once the world was full of noise. Birds. Wind. MacKinnon’s heavy breathing, and the crunch of his footsteps on the gravel path. The thud of her own heart.
She tasted blood. Her lips throbbed where MacKinnon had struck her, but the pain checked her panic.
Somewhere to her right, a tawny owl hooted, and she listened for an answering call. When it came, it sounded unlike any owl she’d ever heard before. Then something clicked in her brain.
Sandy!
Sandy had taught her how to put two leaves together to make that sound. She felt a vague glimmer of hope and renewed strength. She shifted her weight, trying to unbalance her captor, but he merely tightened his grip and shortened his stride.
“Do you think Anna heard you?” Luke asked in a hushed voice.
“Aye. If the lass is conscious, she’ll know it’s me all right.”
“You’re sure you know what to do?”
“Don’t worry about me and yon lassie. Just make sure you get the bastard!”
Luke briefly rested his hand on the old man’s shoulder, before disappearing into the undergrowth. It took him several minutes to get into position above the ice-house.
Seconds ticked by.
With care, he parted the heavy growth of ferns and peered out. MacKinnon climbed the hill and was close enough for Luke to hear his laboured breathing. He had just one chance to get it right. Then, as he’d predicted, MacKinnon dumped Anna on the concrete floor.
Luke waited until MacKinnon stepped forward to unlock the door. He jumped, landed on MacKinnon’s back, and knocked him to the ground. The Factor groaned and struggled.
Right on cue, Sandy leapt forward and dragged Anna to safety.
MacKinnon fought dirty. He rolled to one side and pushed Luke off, kneeing him in the groin in the process. The air whooshed out of Luke’s lungs. MacKinnon landed a heavy blow to Luke’s jaw, before sprinting down the path towards the stable yard.
Dragging air in between his teeth, Luke followed as best he could. He reached the courtyard in time to see Sandy step out of the bushes and level his shotgun at MacKinnon’s chest.
MacKinnon skidded to a halt. Icy contempt swept into his eyes. “Get out of my way, old man. We both know you won’t shoot me.” He walked slowly toward Sandy.
“He won’t, but I will,” Luke took aim.
MacKinnon spun round towards the sound of the voice behind him. He weighed up his chances of making it to the bushes, but didn’t like the odds.
“I’m just a simple hired hand. It was the Laird’s idea,” he shouted.
“Grant was babbling like a jackass when I left him half an hour ago.” Luke said, walking slowly towards him. His finger tightened on the trigger. “How much is he paying you?”
“A pittance.”
“I said how much?”
“Fifty grand!”
Luke snorted. “That’s peanuts compared to what he would receive if his plan worked. I guess you were okay with that. Right, asshole?”
Anger flashed in MacKinnon’s eyes. His muscles tensed. Suddenly, his foot shot out and kicked the gun out of Luke’s hand. It skidded along the path. A shot rang out. MacKinnon sank to the ground. Clasping his right knee, he screamed in agony.
“Go on, laddie, go see to your lassie. I’ll watch this pi
ece of vermin until the police arrive,” Sandy said with a nod of his head.
Luke found Anna propped up against a tree. He gently removed the gag from her mouth, then pulled a knife from his pocket and set about cutting the twine binding her wrists and feet.
“Oh, Luke,” she sobbed. “I heard a shot.
“MacKinnon. Don’t worry; he’s not going anywhere. Sandy’s with him.” He knelt down and pulled her into his arms. He did a swift assessment of her condition. She had a nasty cut on the back of her head, which would require several stitches. Her beautiful face was battered and bruised, and covered in grime. There were rope burns on her wrists and ankles. He cursed silently. For the second time in his life, he wished a man dead.
“Shush,” he said wiping away her tears with his thumb. “You’re safe now. If I help you, could you walk as far as the drive?”
“I think so.”
He helped her to her feet, and, wrapping his arm around her waist, led her back to where he and Sandy had left their vehicle.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“I still think you should have done as the doctor suggested and gone to hospital,” Luke frowned.
“I’m fine,” Anna said. “I prefer the comfort of my own bed.”
“You’re not fine. You’ve got a concussion, and a bunch of contusions. He really did a number of your lower lip, too, the bastard!”
“There’s no need to remind me.” Anna replied, gently touching her mouth.
“You’re darned lucky to be alive.”
“Luke, stop fussing.”
Anna was silent for a moment. “If Morag had remembered to put petrol in her pickup, she wouldn’t have borrowed the Land Rover.”
“Come on. You know you didn’t create this mess.”
“Perhaps. But I can’t help thinking I’m partly to blame for her accident.”
“Hey, don’t cry, love.” Luke sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a hug. “She’s strong. She’ll pull through. We should know more from the hospital later today. The police are downstairs. Do you feel up to answering their questions?”
“Only if you’ll stay with me.”
“I’ll be right by your side, honey.” He kissed her forehead and went downstairs, returning a few moments later with two police officers.
“I’m Inspector Drury, and this is Constable MacFarlane. How are you feeling miss?”
Luke sat beside Anna and held her hand.
“Tired. A bit bruised and battered,” she answered softly.
“I’ll try not to take too long, then. Why don’t you start by telling me how you came to be with MacKinnon?”
“Alistair—Alistair Grant found me. He said he had a message from Ewan and that I was to search the far side of the river.”
“That would be Ewan Abercrombie, the manager of the Monymusk Arms?”
“That’s right. I asked him why Ewan hadn’t called on the radio. He said he’d tried, but the batteries on the set must be dead.”
Anna hesitated and dabbed at her bottom lip.
“Go on.”
“I made my way up to the suspension bridge, as he’d suggested.”
“My God, that was barely a mile from where I found Morag,” Luke said.
“I sat down on a rock to have a drink and the next thing I remember is waking up in some sort of cellar. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. MacKinnon came. He hit me. I knew he was planning to rape me. I was so scared—I just wanted him to get it over with!”
Luke swore. Anger blazed in his eyes. He pulled Anna into his arms, rocking her back and forth, stroking her hair. “Hey. Hey. It’s all over,” he assured her. When he felt her body relax he eased her back on the pillows and wiped away her tears.
“Can you go on, or should we come back later?”
“I want to get this over with. MacKinnon is a monster.”
The Inspector nodded. “He is that. He’s got a lengthy list of offences and is no stranger to the prison system. He’s a mercenary who hires himself out to the highest bidder. We’re pretty sure he was responsible for Mrs. McInnes’ accident.”
Anna’s head snapped up. “I don’t understand. I thought the steering failed.”
“Something failed, but not in the way you think,” Inspector Drury said. “Someone tampered with the brakes.”
Anna gasped.
“I’m glad I checked for leaking brake fluid,” Luke said, “otherwise, everyone would believe it was just an accident.”
Anna turned to him. “But I drove the Land Rover to work, and the brakes were fine. I would have noticed if something was wrong with them.”
The Inspector shook his head. “Not necessarily. The mechanic who inspected the vehicle afterwards said the hole in the brake pipes was tiny, probably made by a sharp implement of some sort. The brake fluid would have drained away little-by-little, each time the pedal was depressed. We found an ice pick in MacKinnon’s cottage. His prints are all over it and on the Land Rover too.”
Luke squeezed her shoulder. “The Land Rover is totalled. Sorry, honey—”
“So what? I can replace it. I can’t replace my best friend.”
“You can’t. And thank God, you won’t have to.”
Suddenly, Anna realized what it all meant. “It wasn’t Morag he meant to kill, it was me.”
“Yes, babe, but MacKinnon didn’t act alone. Grant was paying him.”
Anna’s eyes opened wide. “Alistair? Are you sure?”
Luke nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“Alistair wanted your land, so he hired MacKinnon to scare you away.”
“Mr. Tallantyre is correct,” the Inspector said.
“He was the prowler?”
Luke nodded. “Among other things. Do you remember that day on the hill, when we were shot at? I went back later and found the spent cartridges he’d used. They matched those the police discovered in his cottage.”
“Lynx Game King?” Anna asked.
The Inspector’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How did you know?”
“I found two bullets in the firebox of the Aga. I thought they must been tossed into the cowshed by a passing sportsman and had somehow fallen into the box of kindling. Then I wondered about the guy staying at the hotel, the one with the rifle.”
“Mr. Abercrombie told us about him,” replied Inspector Drury. “We caught up with him at Glasgow airport. Seems he was just a tourist hoping for some sport. He didn’t realize the deer stalking season didn’t start until July.”
“Then I don’t understand. Why would Alistair want Tigh na Cladach? He has more than enough land of his own.”
“The Grants are bankrupt,” Inspector Drury told her. “Grant thought that if he could sell your land to an oil company to develop a deep water harbour, he could save the estate.”
A soft gasp escaped her lips. “Do you think he was behind the solicitor’s letter offering to buy the croft?”
“Almost certainly, although I’m still waiting for confirmation from my colleagues in Glasgow.”
“And when I didn’t accept he decided to renew our friendship,” Anna said. “That explains why he came to see me and asked me out to dinner. The night of the ceilidh, in particular, he kept talking of marriage. I thought he was crazy.” She turned to Luke. “The same night I was so angry with you for acting like a pompous idiot.”
“I was jealous. I’ll admit it. The sight of you in Grant’s arms made me nuts.”
“But he means—meant nothing to me.”
“I know that, my love. After you turned Grant down, he gave MacKinnon the go-ahead to get you out of the way. I suspect MacKinnon tampered with the brakes that night.”
Anna turned to the Inspector. “What happens now?”
“MacKinnon has been charged with attempted murder. I’m betting when we look more closely at his background, we’ll find he’s wanted for other crimes, the robbery at the Manse for one thing. Grant’s got prison in his future too.”
“Poor Alistair. He should have swallowed his pride and sold the estate.”
“Maybe. With his Father still alive, he had no right to. Thank you for your time, Miss MacDonald. You will need to make a formal statement when you’re feeling better. Perhaps you could drop by the station in a day or two?”
“Of course, Inspector, anything to help.”
“Right then. I’d best be getting back to Fort William.” He turned to leave. “Oh, one more thing, before I forget. I hope you’ve got a licence for that gun, Mr. Tallantyre?”
“What gun?”
He shot Luke a knowing glance. “Hmph. Just as I thought. Don’t get up. We’ll see ourselves out.”
When the Inspector and his constable had left, Anna snuggled up to Luke.
“I still can’t believe Alistair could be so—”
“Greedy? Stupid? That’s funny, I can.”
“For an artist, you seem to know a great deal about law-breaking.”
Luke smiled. “I haven’t always painted watercolours.”
“Oh?”
“I worked for the FBI for twelve years as a member of the art theft recovery team. When this first started, I thought I was the target, that someone I’d put away was seeking revenge. It took me a while to work out that it was really you they were after. If I had realized that sooner, I might have been able to stop things before they got out of control.”
“You said worked for the FBI—past tense.”
“Yeah. I thought about quitting when a colleague got shot on a case. We were trying to recover a stolen Rembrandt. He’d been working undercover for months, getting closer and closer to the group responsible. Unfortunately, his cover was blown. It was Nicole’s death that finally made me get out. I’ll never know whether she was the intended target, or I was. After she died, I got out. I couldn’t put my family’s at risk, so I’ve been painting full-time now for five years.”
“You protected me.”
“No, I didn’t. I should never have let you out of my sight after Morag disappeared.”
“You weren’t to know Alistair had hired MacKinnon or what he had planned.”
“My gut told me something was wrong. And like an idiot, I ignored it.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Get some rest. The doctor said to take two of these.” In his palm were two white tablets. He handed her a glass of water. “I’ll bring you something to eat later.”
The House on the Shore Page 26
