Fear Familiar Bundle

by Caroline Burnes

  I only wish I'd stayed in Mary's room this morning. I'm curious about that glass of port and the pestle. Mary had the evidence right in her hand. To think someone broke into her room and stole it!

  I was lurking up and down the hallways, so I know he or she didn't come through the door. They might have come through the walls. Now, maybe this is a clue we can use. If I can find the entrance to the passage in Mary's room, maybe we can trace it back to the room where the intruder came from. That would be very revealing. It might give a bit of coloring to the shade that lurks in the walls of Mayfair. I like that idea, shadowing the shade.

  Oops, the motor is cranked, and William is spinning gravel as he takes off. My, my, is that Abby looking out the front window? And Kevin, there, in the parlor. And, my stars, John near the hallway from the kitchen. Last but not least, Erick, from the third floor, peering out the window like some creature hidden away in the attic. All of them, just waiting to poke their noses in everyone else's business. And there she is, face as pale as a ghost, peeping out of the window in the second floor hall, little Sophie. Looks like a panel of Hollywood Squares. One of them has the correct answer, or at least is linked to it somehow. I still haven't ruled out the battle-ax Clarissa and that Valkyrie, Chancey. And they'll be here tomorrow night. I can't wait. I have a little kitty performance lined up for them. I'm going to be the first cat to win an Oscar in a dramatic series.

  * * *

  THE VET'S combination truck/clinic on wheels was parked at Chancey's house when William roared into the drive. They got out and stood beside the car, halted for a moment by the eerie silence of the place.

  "Chancey! Dr. Faulkner!" William called.

  One of the horses in the barn whinnied a greeting.

  "Let's take a look." William nodded toward the barn.

  "William." Mary put a hand on his arm. She had a bad feeling about what they were getting ready to find.

  "Maybe you should wait here," he suggested.

  "Not on your life," she answered, falling into step beside him. Familiar was already two paces ahead.

  The black cat scurried into the barn, made a beeline for the tack room and then clawed on the door.

  There was a thumping sound, as if something large was jostling against the heavy wood.

  "Hold on," William called. He put his shoulder to the door, but it was latched or blocked from inside.

  "Push!" Mary urged him, putting her own weight with his against the door.

  A low moan came from behind the door, giving William the extra incentive he needed to push the door open several inches. Familiar shot into the opening. He gave several rapid meows as William and Mary pushed harder, gradually forcing the door open wider.

  "I can make it," Mary said, slipping in before William could stop her.

  "It's Dr. Faulkner," she called out. "He's tied, gagged, and leaning on the door. Just a minute."

  There was the sound of something heavy being dragged on the floor, and William was able to push the door open the rest of the way. He burst into the room to find Mary bending over the prone figure of the veterinarian.

  "I'm okay," the vet gasped as soon as Mary was able to remove the gag that had been tied around his mouth.

  William cut the ropes that bound his hands and feet, and the vet sat up on the floor and began to rub the circulation back into his limbs.

  "He caught me from behind," he said ruefully. "I didn't even get a chance to see what he looked like. He must have used the handle on one of the tools." He rubbed the back of his head.

  Mary felt a sympathy pang where she'd also been struck. She glanced up at William. They were both thinking the same thing. A lot of people were being injured at Chancey's barn.

  "Where's Chancey?" William asked.

  "I don't know." Dr. Faulkner stood, working the kinks out of his arms and legs as he paced. "I got the call, and I should have thought it was strange."

  "Why is that?" Mary asked.

  "It wasn't Chancey who called. It was a man. He didn't give his name, he just said he was calling for her and that she was in the barn with a sick horse. Emergency."

  "And you never saw her."

  "The place looked deserted. I came in here, in a hurry, as you can imagine. From what the caller said, I was afraid I was going to find Sprint down in the stall with a twisted gut. I rushed right in. Whoever it was, was hiding behind the door. I'd barely gotten inside before he thunked me on the head. When I woke up, I was in here, tied like a steer."

  "You keep saying 'he,"' Mary commented.

  The vet paused, thinking. "I suppose that's because I don't think of a woman as being able to knock me out." He shook his head. "Old-fashioned, I suppose. It could have been a strong woman."

  "We'd better check on Chancey," Mary suggested.

  Familiar darted out of the shadows of the barn and ran toward the house. The back door was standing ajar, and he darted into the house before Mary could stop him. Dr. Faulkner was almost fully recovered, and he and William rushed past Mary to go inside.

  "Chancey!" William called.

  There was a thumping noise from the second floor. William started up the steps, but Mary's voice stopped him.

  "Be careful," she said. "It could be a trick."

  "What— " But the vet didn't pursue it. "Someone poisoned your cat," he said. "I gather there's more going on at Mayfair than I thought."

  "A bit," William said, his gaze straining up the steps to look for any movement. "Familiar wasn't the only one poisoned."

  "Well, poison is a rather harsh word— "

  A loud thump-thump from upstairs stopped the vet. "It seems I'm not going to be able to tell you the test results. At least, not for a while longer." He nodded at William. "Shall we?"

  "Stay here, Mary. You'll have to get help if anything happens."

  Mary knew William was simply trying to protect her, but someone had to stay below, and she'd be of less use than Dr. Faulkner, who was a strong and fit man.

  "Be careful," she said.

  Gripping the rail, she watched as the two men eased up the stairs. If only they'd brought a weapon of some kind. Even a sledgehammer or an ax from the barn!

  They disappeared from sight, and she felt her breathing grow shallow and tight as the seconds ticked by. She was about to call out to them when she heard her own name.

  "Mary!" William's voice was concerned.

  "Yes? Is everything okay?"

  "Come on up."

  She dashed headlong up the stairs and stopped abruptly. The sight that greeted her was so unexpected that she almost didn't believe it. Chancey was seated in a straight-backed chair. A gag bound her mouth, and her arms and ankles were tied to the chair.

  "I think we should leave her." Mary spoke the words before she thought, but she saw the red color rush to Chancey's cheeks.

  "She's only teasing," William said as he approached the chair and quickly untied the knots. "Are you okay, Chancey? Who did this?"

  "I'd like an answer to that myself. It's a fine day when a woman isn't safe in her own house." She rubbed her right wrist. "I've been tied here for over an hour. And when I find out who sneaked up behind me and put that foul-smelling cloth over my nose, I'm going to…do something terrible to him."

  She looked at Dr. Faulkner. "What are you doing here?"

  "I thought you called me. An emergency," Dr. Faulkner said. He was calm, thoughtful. "They said Sprint was down with the colic."

  "I didn't call you. There's nothing wrong with Sprint," Chancey said. A strange look passed over her face. "Did you go to the barn? He isn't sick, is he?"

  "He's fine, but I spent the better part of an hour down in your barn, tied and gagged, also."

  Chancey shook her head. "What's going on here? I don't understand any of this."

  Familiar, who'd been standing in the doorway of the room, trotted up to Chancey and brushed against her legs.

  "Meow." He appeared to be oozing sympathy.

  She reached down to pick him u
p, revealing both wrists as she did so.

  Mary saw the slight chafing on her right wrist, the place where the rope had bound her to the chair. Both of Dr. Faulkner's wrists were slightly irritated. Chancey's left wrist was unblemished. As if she'd tied herself in the chair. Familiar jumped to the floor, moving over to stand at Mary's feet.

  "You didn't see the person who attacked you?" Mary asked.

  Chancey noticed the change in Mary's voice. "I said I didn't. Did you, earlier today? Maybe it was the same man. Maybe he was intending to rob me."

  "Maybe," Mary agreed. She felt both men looking at her. She could make an accusation against Chancey now, but she couldn't prove it. It would be better to wait and discuss her suspicions with William.

  "Dr. Faulkner, do you have any idea why someone would want to call you out to Chancey's so they could knock you out, tie you and gag you?" Mary turned her attention to the vet.

  "No." He walked to the window of Chancey's bedroom and looked down on the barn below. "Nothing was taken from me, and it doesn't seem that anything has been disturbed here at Chancey's."

  "Nothing except the fact that I've been tied and gagged, too." Chancey's anger was rising. "You act as if I'm somehow to blame."

  "Are you?" Mary asked.

  "You'd do and say anything to make me look bad to William." Chancey stood. "You're terrified you're going to lose him, aren't you?"

  "Chancey!" William's voice was angry.

  "She came over here and pretended to be hurt so she could go home and gain your sympathy. Now she's trying to set me up to make me look like I'm involved in some sinister plot to abduct Dr. Faulkner." Chancey's normally lovely complexion was red. "What could I gain by this? What?"

  "I think we should go," William said, taking Mary's arm. "Dr. Faulkner, could we have a word?"

  With Mary in the lead, the three of them took the stairs and exited through the back door. Mary looked up to find Chancey staring out the window at them as they gathered by the vet's truck.

  "What did you find?" William asked.

  "It's very strange. Poison is a strong word, but it could be appropriate, although the chemical substance I discovered, in the amounts that I found, would not be deadly."

  "What was it?" Mary wanted to shake the answers out of the veterinarian. He was being so careful.

  "It's a chemical called Drixilocaine. A mind-altering substance. When I got the lab reports back on the initial tests, I sent some samples to the University of Edinburgh medical school for more tests. I lucked up and found someone interested in the case, and he put it all together. The drug is not toxic in the amounts I found in Familiar's saliva."

  "In his saliva?" Mary asked.

  "Yes, that's what took me so long. The chemical is activated by saliva. That's where I found the strongest indications of it. Once I detected it, I was able to find traces of it in his blood and elsewhere."

  "What is it?" William asked.

  "A hallucinatory. The U.S. military was experimenting with it for a while, but they gave it up as too unstable. Or at least, it is assumed they gave it up."

  "How do you get it?" William asked.

  Dr. Faulkner shrugged. "That's a good question. Now I have one for you, William. What's going on at Mayfair? I hear tales of ghosts and hauntings, and you riding around the countryside late at night like some wild man."

  William put his hand on the vet's shoulder. "Is it possible that if I took this drug I might begin to believe I was some warlord?"

  Dr. Faulkner didn't smile. He considered the question. "I don't really know enough to say, but my first guess is that it's likely. My understanding is that the drug was being tested to release the aggressive tendencies in fighting men. Sort of a drug-induced fighting machine. Horrible. Trouble was, the results weren't predictable. There's little material available on the drug. As you can imagine, no government would want such test results spread around, but it seems some of the soldiers who volunteered to try the drug became obsessed and tried to injure their own comrades."

  "I see." William turned away from the vet and from Mary.

  Mary went to him, touching his arm. "But you didn't become violent," she said. "Not with me, or with anyone else."

  "Familiar did, though."

  "It could be if the cat took a dose intended for you, he reacted more aggressively. He's a much smaller creature," Dr. Faulkner continued.

  "Indeed," Mary said. Hearing Familiar's name reminded her to look around the area for him. He'd been the first one out of Chancey's house.

  "William, why would someone want to do this?" Dr. Faulkner asked.

  "I think someone is trying to drive me out of Mayfair," William said.

  "By making you belive you're crazy."

  "By making me believe I'm possessed by the ghost of Slaytor MacEachern."

  Instead of laughing, Dr. Faulkner nodded. "This drug could work in that fashion. The power of suggestion on someone taking it is very strong. But who would know of this, and who would have a chance to do this to you?"

  "I already have a list of suspects," William said. He looked up at the window to see Chancey still staring down at them. "What's become obvious is that whoever it is doesn't want to kill me, they simply want me to leave Mayfair."

  "Or else they want to frighten me badly enough to make me leave you," Mary said. She, too, was watching Chancey.

  "Without a bride, you won't inherit," Dr. Faulkner said. "That's common enough knowledge in these parts. The MacEachern trust has been a topic of speculation through the generations."

  "And continued speculation now," Mary added. Her glance at William let him know that there was unfinished business between them.

  "There are those who aren't glad to see me back," William said.

  "That's a mild way of putting it. Whoever would use that drug is either completely ignorant or very dangerous. The long-term effects aren't known. Watch yourself."

  "I'll be careful," William promised.

  "Be careful, and be smart," Dr. Faulkner said. He looked over at Mary. "And watch out for her. If it's your heritage at stake, Mary is in as much danger as you are, now."

  Chapter Fifteen

  "What are we going to do?" Mary paced her bedroom, her voice a constrained whisper. "Someone's trying to poison you and drive me away, and all you want to do is plan a dinner party."

  William's smile was amused. He made a grab for Mary when she passed and pulled her with him on top of the bed. "I want you to relax," he whispered in her ear at the same time he stroked her waist.

  "You're not even worried." Mary was indignant.

  "I am, but I'm not frantic." He slid her down beside him on the bed and pulled her into the comfort of his arms. "The truth is, since I don't believe I'm going crazy or possessed by a ghost, I feel much better."

  "An external foe instead of an internal one." Mary couldn't help but agree, even though it gave her small comfort.

  "Excellently put. An external foe." William kissed her temple. "Now all we have to do is figure out who it is."

  "Who stands to gain from your 'insanity'?" Mary asked.

  "Obviously Erick and Kevin, if he is indeed my half-brother." He looked at Mary. "Does Erick know about Kevin?"

  "I don't know." The thought was intriguing. "If he did, Kevin's claim would supersede his, wouldn't it?"

  William nodded. "If his father is my father, then his claim by blood is greater. Sorry to say that the bloodline of the mother has never counted for much. Since men have always been in charge of setting the rules, we like to think we're the most important element in establishing the line of descent."

  "And there's been many a man who greeted another's son as his own." Mary enjoyed the verbal sparring with William.

  "That would never happen in the MacEachern line." William whispered the words against her throat.

  "And how do you know that?" Mary was finding it difficult to keep up the bantering. William's lips brushed lightly across her skin, and she forgot whatever she intended to
say next.

  "It's always been a fact that the MacEachern men have been able to cast a spell of loyalty, fidelity and…complete surrender over their women."

  "Surrender?" Mary tried to gather her wits, but her body seemed to have other ideas.

  "Yes, my love, complete surrender." He kissed the pulse point at her neck and slowly began to move down.

  "And once these women were in the throes of complete surrender, they were seduced and were soon heavy with child?"

  "Not exactly." William's voice indicated that he knew the topic that was at hand.

  "And what if we marry and I don't produce a male heir?" Mary's heart pounded. She'd dreaded asking this question, but this was the perfect time. William was physically and mentally fine. The future was not completely ironed out, but it would never be between them until this matter was settled.

  "Then Erick will inherit."

  "That simple?"

  "That simple. I didn't tell you about the issue of an heir because I didn't want you to feel pressured. I know that you love children and want them, as do I. If we start our family in time to meet the deadline, that will be fine. If not…You see, I could have married years ago if meeting the stipulations of inheritance was all that mattered to me. Had I not met you, I would never have married."

  "Surely…"

  "I would not tie myself to a woman to inherit a pile of old stone. Never." He kissed her cheek. "And remember, my sweet— " his grin was infectious "— Erick has no male heir. Nor Kevin."

  "That we know of." Mary made her point yet she couldn't help but smile. William was everything to her. She'd never known that love could be so full and rich.

  "Even Slaytor would not settle for less than the woman he loved. I believe he was right fond of Lisette. And it was marriage he wanted, not just a romp on the furs."

  "William…" She reached for him.

  He kissed her lips. "It's part of the MacEachern male heritage. We want to marry the women we love."

  Mary returned his kiss with all of the passion that had grown between them. For a little while they put their troubles behind them and enjoyed the luxury of intense emotions and desire. The sun dipped below the horizon again, and the lonely sounds of someone in the barn playing bagpipes marked the end of the day.