Regan huddled into the seat beside him, chilled by the breeze despite her jacket but the internal cold seemed to invade her bones. Oh God, they were dead. Three completely innocent people. And Dr. Reinholt remained in a coma. And Marissa— She shuddered. How many more would die?
The craft bounced, and she gripped the side of the vessel.
The dock came into sight, and Quinn swung the boat toward Grannos. They hit a stretch of choppy water, and the boat wallowed then settled into a teeth-chattering dance with the waves.
Cutting back the power, he guided the craft up against the side of the ship. Regan rushed to tie the boat off.
They climbed the metal ladder. As they gained the deck, he stood behind her, and she guided his arms around her. “Just hold me for a moment.”
“As long as you need, Regan.” His voice sounded husky. In the way his body pressed to hers, in the way his arms tightened and curved her back against him, she read both protection and desire. His warmth seeped into her back and eased the chill of shock and grief that still lingered.
Regan looked up at Mt. Slioch as it loomed over the loch. “I still love this place. I still feel its call.”
“Aye.”
She turned within his arms to press close.
Quinn’s lips brushed her bruised forehead, then he rested his chin atop her head.
An ache settled deep beneath her ribs, and she fought back a fresh wave of tears. They’d said the words and been cheated of the joy they should be experiencing by —everything. Anger shoved the tears aside. How much more where they expected to sacrifice?
“Hey, Quinn.”
Rob spoke from behind them, and Quinn loosened his hold to turn and glace over his shoulder.
“If you’re going to be here a wee bit, I thought I’d go to the pub for a meal.”
Quinn nodded. “Regan and I’ll be here all night, if you want to hang out with the lads for a bit.”
Rob bobbed his head. His gaze strayed to Regan. “Could I bring you something back from the pub?”
“There’s some steaks in the fridge we can grill later,” Quinn said. “Unless you want something different, lass.”
Regan shook her head.
“I’m sorry about the boy, Will and his family,” Rob said, his expression grim.
Regan nodded and looked away. Quinn’s arms tightened a moment.
“When our contract ends with Nicodemus, Regan will be leaving with me,” he said.
Regan read tension in his expression.
Rob studied him for a moment. “If that’s what the two of you want, I’m happy for you.”
“Aye, it is. Thanks.”
“I’ll be back in a while,” Rob said and climbed down the stairs to the Bayliner. The engine revved then grew distant as he drove to the dock.
Had she become a point of contention between Quinn and Rob? And what about Logan? The three of them were so close. The magnitude of what Quinn was risking struck her like a punch, and she sucked in a breath.
God, if only she had never come to Scotland. She would have never known Quinn. Would have never put him in danger over and over. It was all her fault. It was all tied to her.
The sound of a boat’s motor reached them. Regan looked over her shoulder. MacBean’s gaze focused on the two of them as he passed close by Grannos on his way to the dock. Had he been watching them? Had he followed them to Isle Maree? She hadn’t heard a boat while there.
Since Marissa’s death, every time she looked up, MacBean was watching her. As Nicodemus had probably instructed him to do. He was waiting to swoop in and rip into her, or worse. Damn him. He’d be the one to come for her once this was over.
“I’m not ready to give up.” The words came out with more determination than she felt. “There has to be something we can do.”
“Like what, Regan?”
“The two great stones in the chamber—I think there‘s something beneath them.” She drew away from him to lean against the railing behind her. “There has to be some kind of conductor that ties the stones together. They’re laced with iron ore, buried into the ground. There has to be something that allows the current to pass from stone to stone.”
Quinn’s brows rose. “What do you think it might be?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps a natural chamber of limestone. If there were an alkaline fluid within it, it would act as a conductor.”
Quinn shook his head. “If that’s true it couldn’t be created by chance. It had to be constructed.”
“Or there could be more stones buried beneath and they’re close enough to act as conductors. I can’t know without an x-ray or digging. But—” she swallowed. “The amount of wattage a lightning bolt generates is a terawatt but it only lasts a fraction of a second. If we direct a consistent electrical current into the two main stones, do you think we could simulate what happens during a storm?”
“The electricity during a storm is only intermittent. There’s no way to tell exactly what will happen. But we could try. If we can avoid Nicodemus’s men.”
“Aye.”
Her mouth went dry. “When and how do you plan to set the charges?”
“As early in the morning as possible. ‘Twill only take a few moments now that the preliminary work is done.”
She nodded. “There’s one more thing.”
His green gaze looked almost gray in the dim late evening light. “What?”
She had to tell him. He could still have a life. Still be with his family. “When this happens, you have to lay the blame on me.”
The sound of another boat approaching drew their attention. Was Rob returning?
His brows fisted. “Why would I do that?”
The occupants of the small johnboat drew close enough to recognize. Her stomach dropped, and her heart jumped into a hard rhythm. Regan looped an arm through his. Dear God, what next?
CHAPTER 45
Detective Chief Inspector Gordon settled on one of the benches attached to the tables inside the eating area of the galley. His dark eyes appeared as sharp as the first time Quinn met him. The aggressive intensity of his body language sent wary tension through Quinn.
Instead of sitting across the table from the detective, Quinn chose a seat across the narrow aisle that separated the tables leaving open floor between them. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had to believe the truth would come out. He could only concentrate on answering Gordon’s questions and hope Regan would do the same for Detective Keith.
Frowning, Gordon shifted his position to face him and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “The panel we ran showed your DNA, skin cells beneath Dr. Reinhart’s fingernails, Mr. Douglas. But atop that was someone else’s. Who else was with you when you visited Dr. Reinhart?”
Though the muscles in his stomach tightened, and his heart drummed hard against his ribs, Quinn kept his voice even. “Just Regan.”
“Where were you before going to Dr. Reinhart’s?”
“We had lunch at an Italian restaurant on Prince Street.”
“With Dr. Frost?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s now missing and presumed drowned.”
“Yes.”
“And who attacked the young boy and Miss Stanhope.”
“Yes.”
“And now the boy and his parents are dead, too.”
Quinn remained silent, though the urge to deny any involvement had him clenching his teeth.
DCI Gordon sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “You can understand how it appears with so many tragic events happening in such a short time.”
“Aye. It appears to be a horrible sequence of events, Detective. Dr. Reinhart stood at the door after Regan’s session and watched us walk to the car. She was fine when we left. And we did everything we could to help Will. I thought he and his parents had flown home. It was a shock to find out they had been killed.”
“Where were you when you heard about the accident?” Gordon asked.
“I returned to Gran
nos about seven o’clock after helping with the search for Dr. Frost for most of the day,” Quinn said. “I was one of a crew of three. Gordon Murdock and Craig Drummond were with me. I dropped them off at their cabin, then came here. Struthers Macintyre had the watch on Grannos. He told me about the accident when I arrived.”
“How well did you know Dr. Frost?” Gordon asked.
“At one time, I thought I knew her very well,” Quinn said.
“You had a relationship.” It sounded more like a statement than a question.
Quinn nodded. “We were lovers for a short time. She moved on to another dig and I to another salvage job.”
“Who broke things off?”
“She did.”
“Were you upset by that?”
“Aye, I was. But that was all in the past. I’m with Regan now.”
“Would you mind removing your sweater, Mr. Douglas?”
Quinn shrugged. “No, I don’t mind.” He grasped the hem of the cable knit garment and dragged it over his head. The sleeve caught on the brace on his left arm. and he tugged it free.
“You weren’t wearing the brace when DS Keith fingerprinted you.”
“No. It was difficult to turn pages in the books we were working with and wearing the protective gloves was uncomfortable with it on.”
“What did you do to your hand?”
“I caught it between the netting on a twenty ton stone and the air bag raising it. It caused hair line fractures to some of the smaller bones in my hand.”
“Do you have an x-ray to prove that?” Gordon asked.
“The doctor on the site would have them in his office. They took a full set in the conservation lab.”
Gordon frowned. “Will you remove the brace for a moment?”
Quinn tugged the Velcro straps loose and slid the brace free. Gordon studied his arms and hands. Quinn turned them palm up at his instruction. The man walked around him studying his back and chest as well. The scratches he was searching for no longer existed. They had been healed by the stream, as had the fresh injury to his arm from the shovel.
“How do you suppose your DNA got beneath Dr. Reinhart’s nails, Mr. Douglas?”
Quinn shook his head, and the lie came hard. “I haven’t the foggiest. May I put my sweater back on?”
“Yes.” Detective Gordon returned to his seat on the galley bench and leaned back against the table behind him.
Tension eased from Quinn. “Was the second DNA male or female?” he asked as he shrugged back into his sweater.
DCI Gordon studied him for a long moment. “It was male.”
He pulled on the brace and strapped the Velcro around it. He was sick of wearing the thing when it wasn’t needed. “I suppose you’ve ruled out all of Dr. Reinhart’s patients.”
“Yes.”
Quinn returned to his seat on the bench facing Gordon. “I wish I could help you, Inspector. I don’t know who might have hurt her.”
“We’re going to be interviewing some of the people here on the dig.”
“I expected so.”
“You don’t know anyone who might harbor unfriendly feelings toward you or Miss Stanhope?”
Everyone attached to Nicodemus came to mind. For a moment, the urge to tell the man everything shoved against his wariness. He’d sound like a lunatic, and Gordon would never believe him. “No. I have a good working relationship with most of the people here, as does Regan. My crew has been with me since the beginning. I’ve put myself in their hands more than once during dives. If any of them wished me ill, they’ve more than had a chance to be rid of me.”
Gordon nodded.
Quinn paused. He couldn’t allow the man to walk away empty handed. Not when so much was at stake. Regan would need protection if something happened to him. “There have been a few incidents on the site, though.”
Gordon’s brows rose, and he leaned forward again.
“Regan and her roommates’ cabin was broken into and their laptops stolen. And one other more serious thing.” He described the incident at the chamber entrance when the ROV recovery basket had broken and covered the entrance trapping her and Dr. Arturo inside.
“ My men and I thought at the time the bolt had been cut. Dr. Fraser was pressured into allowing Nicodemus’s team to look into it instead of filing a report with the local constabulary. I’ve heard nothing more about it since. ”
“Where is the recovery basket now?” Gordon asked.
“On board Grannos. But it’s been repaired. And I don’t know where the bolt was taken. I did file an accident report with the site director, Dr. Fraser and the insurance company. It was required because the man working with Regan, Dr. Arturo, was injured. I don’t know where it went from there.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“How is Dr. Reinhart doing?”
“She died yesterday. She never regained consciousness.”
Shock jolted through him. “Jesus—” Quinn bit back another expletive. He ran a hand over his forehead and raked his hair back. He looked through the open doorway where Regan and DS Keith sat beneath the awing talking. “I’d like to be with Regan when you tell her. She’s been upset about Will and his family, and this will be a shock to her.”
Gordon rose. “I’d like to see the recovery basket first.”
“Certainly.” Quinn rose.
“I haven’t enough evidence to arrest you, yet, Mr. Douglas,” Gordon said.
Quinn’s gaze jerked to his face, and he braced his legs as adrenaline raced through his system.
“I haven’t enough to rule you out, either.”
“Even if Regan hadn’t been with me, I’m sure you’ve talked to the owner of the bed and breakfast where we stayed. If I’d beaten someone, would my hands not have been bruised, my clothes covered in blood, or some other external disruption to my appearance been there to see? There wasn’t, because I never laid a hand on Dr. Reinhart. I had no reason to. I didn’t even know her.”
“Strangers kill other strangers all the time, Mr. Douglas. I haven’t finished my investigation. But you can be sure, I’ll discover who did this.”
“I hope you do, inspector. For the sake of justice and for my own.”
*****
The soft sound of the water lapping against the side of the ship lulled the anxious tension from Regan’s limbs. She shifted beneath the covers to curl against Quinn and rest her head on his shoulder. His arm curved around her drawing her in closer. She ran a hand over his bare chest. The joy that should have been in their lovemaking had been overcast by grief and desperation. A hard knot of pain lodged just beneath her breastbone every time she allowed herself to think beyond the moment. There had to be a way to fight free of this.
“Once the cofferdam is destroyed, they’ll stop looking for the man who attacked Dr. Reinhart. If you’re guilty of one crime, you’re guilty of them all,” Quinn said, his voice husky.
It was almost a relief for him to approach the subject. He had been so quiet after the detectives’ visit. “DCI Gordon won’t settle for that. He’ll want to know every minute detail of what happened to her. He’ll find whoever it was. He knows there was someone else there after us.”
“He thinks he was with us, Regan.”
“We have to stand firm on what we said, Quinn. As long as we don’t waver, the truth will come out.”
“Had I not thrust my hands into the stream, pulling Will from it, I’d be sitting in a jail cell right now. The damn thing healed the scratches as though they’d never been. The truth is too unbelievable to be believed.”
Regan turned to straddle his hips and look down at him. “Yes it is.” Her eyes burnt with more tears, but she shoved them back. She’d cried more in the last week than she had in years. And she was done with it.
She studied his face, so masculine, so precious to her. Leaning forward, she braced her left hand on the pillow behind him and with the right caressed his cheek. “We’ve always thought what motivated Coira to reach through time to us was
to protect the stones, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. I think she’s been motivated by love the entire time.” Her composure threatened to crumble, and she swallowed and drew a deep breath to steady herself. “If her feelings for Braden are half of what I feel for you, I know that’s why she’s desperate for us to help her.”
Quinn’s hands, his palms slightly rough, ran up and down her back. “Aye, I can see that. But why wouldn’t she give them up for him?”
“Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she was trapped in a situation similar to our own. I think she had trouble conceiving and bearing a child. I think she clung to the hope of curing her difficulties. Or maybe she saw her own death, and Braden’s suffering afterward, and hoped to avoid that.”
“We won’t ever know unless we can talk to her, face to face,” Quinn said. “And the chances of that are slim.”
Regan leaned forward to rub her cheek against his beard-stubbled one. She didn’t have to talk to Coira to understand she had sacrificed herself to protect others, but mostly to protect Braden. “Your brothers love you very much, Quinn. I’ve never seen a family so closely bonded. They need you. You’re their rock, their anchor.”
She looked into his face and read the pain in his expression, the conflict. If she told him about her mother and led up to it— But he’d never agree to her accepting the blame for destroying the cofferdam. Unless she didn’t give him a choice.
She kissed him, offering him her love, and what comfort she could. “It’s going to be all right. ”
His lips clung to hers, then followed the line of her jaw to her ear. “I want to be inside you, again,” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion.
She shifted and guided him into her body. When she pressed down taking him as deep as he could go, she caught her breath. The closeness, the connection between them when they were joined like this was nothing short of miraculous.
“I love you.” She couldn’t say it enough. Couldn’t acknowledge it enough. Though the words seemed so inadequate.
“What we have is stronger than anything I’ve ever known, Regan.” His lips caught hers again, and their tongues tempted and taunted one another in a kiss, in turn languid and sweet, passionate and tender. His hips rose, pressing their bodies as tightly together as they could get.
Timeless Page 39
