Highland Fire: captivating romantic suspense full of twists

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Highland Fire: captivating romantic suspense full of twists Page 17

by Abigail Clements


  ‘But that’s the end of it for Dominic. I take the boat out, out into the Minch, to meet the boat from Ireland. And I arrange the meeting ‒ which boat, and more important, whose boat. You see, Carrie, like all wars, this one has two sides, and they both need guns. There’s nothing like a competitive market for a bright Belfast boy to make a little money.’

  ‘You sell to both sides,’ I whispered.

  ‘Three cheers for free enterprise.’

  ‘Does Dominic know that?’

  Kevin stiffened and straightened, the gun steady in his hand again. He said in a low voice, ‘If he knew that, he really would kill me. Or rather’ ‒ he laughed softly ‒ ‘he’d try. Even a coward has his limits.’

  ‘You’re nothing but a filthy criminal, a criminal and a murderer,’ I whispered defiantly.

  ‘And Dominic?’ he asked, amused light glinting in his sandy-coloured eyes. ‘ “Was some power the giftie gie us, to see oursels as others see us”?’

  I turned my face away, refusing to answer. He said for me, ‘We’re two of a kind, Carrie, and we’re both in this up to our necks. We may not be the best of friends, but we’ve got a charming camaraderie of mutual desperation. You wouldn’t get any mercy from him either, Carrie. You can be glad that it was me who found you here. You really wouldn’t like to play this scene with him, would you?’

  ‘He wouldn’t do this to me,’ I said, but I wasn’t sure any longer.

  ‘Oh, lassie,’ he said softly, ‘you’re more fool than I thought you were.’ He stepped forward. ‘Come on,’ he said roughly, his tone and manner changing. The conversation was over.

  ‘Where?’ I asked, my voice shaking.

  ‘We’re going for a little ride. Up to the top of the moor. And then we’ll have a walk, some place nice and quiet.’

  He slipped the gun into the pocket of his raincoat.

  ‘We don’t want to be too obvious, do we, lass,’ he said. ‘But it’s still pointed at you, dearie, and it’s just as effective through a layer or two of cloth. Come on, now. Move.’

  He was taking me to where he would kill me. I knew, but I went with him, toward the door in the darkness. If I hadn’t, he’d have killed me there. Life is precious, even minute by minute, and I was clinging to each minute I had left.

  He had flicked off the lighter and we went together to where the grey daylight made a bar under the shut door. He had one hand on my elbow, and he said as we reached the door, ‘The keys, lass, give them here.’ I did, cautiously, the darkness itself making me less inclined to do anything he might interpret as rebellious. It had been bad enough, when I could see him; now the threat was invisible, a footstep, a rough word in the darkness.

  He swung the door open, and the bright daylight half-blinded me. I stepped out, and stood stock still while he, carefully facing me, locked the door behind him.

  ‘We’ll take your car,’ he said. ‘I saw it behind the gorse. You will drive.’

  He was so businesslike and calm. I had the chilling feeling that he’d done this sort of thing before somewhere. Maybe frequently.

  We walked slowly toward the car; I, realizing that once inside it, I had no hope at all any longer. Then suddenly, when I had my hand on the door handle, Seumas was there, at the corner of the building, beneath the larch trees. I had no idea where he had appeared from so suddenly.

  He was shouting to us, ‘Hey, wait, I need a ride up the hill, can you give me one?’

  Kevin McGuire’s response amazed me. In the terrible tension of the moment I half-expected him to whirl around and use that gun on Seumas. If he would kill once, why not twice, why not more? It seemed a simple solution to this sudden disastrous complication to his plan. I felt a pang of fear for Seumas, standing there so laughing and innocent, with his bright clothes and his shining hair, like a child who’s blundered into an adult world.

  I needn’t have. Kevin turned calmly and waved and called hello. Whatever frustration or fear or anger the interruption had caused was perfectly masked. It was then that I realized how completely professional he was. It was all just a job. Even killing. If he couldn’t do it now, he’d do it later.

  I knew he hadn’t much to hide from Seumas ‒ after all, he, like Dominic, was one of them. As Kevin had said, they were all in it. They were all bound to a terrible secrecy by their mutual guilt. Anything he might do, Seumas had no choice but to accept, just as Dominic had no choice. They were all outside the law, so far outside that there was no law left for any of them.

  Kevin McGuire could have shot me there, in front of Seumas, had he chosen. He was safe enough for now. But Kevin was a careful man, a man who planned the future. There might be a day when they all stood up in court together, and on such a day he would want no witnesses to a murder.

  He would have no trouble finding a safer time later. For now he said, ‘Carrie’s on her way home, she’ll give you a ride.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Seumas called, loping toward us over the windswept ground. Disbelieving, I turned, looking at Kevin. He smiled slightly, his hand still in his pocket, holding that gun.

  ‘I’ll see you later, Carrie,’ he said, in a voice mildly friendly for Seumas’s sake.

  And then he let me go, let me climb into the car with Seumas. Just as I reached to switch the ignition on, he leaned in the window and said very softly, ‘I am thinking it would not be wise for you to go anywhere else, just now. I do want to see you later, and it would be sad if I went to Sron Ban and found no one. I could always find Caitlin, of course. She’s at the MacLeods’, is she not?’

  I didn’t answer; my whole body went suddenly cold. I knew what he was saying.

  ‘That would be unfortunate, wouldn’t it, Carrie, if I could just find Caitlin?’ he said. ‘I’d really rather it were you.’

  I shook my head sharply and whispered, ‘I’m going to Sron Ban, you needn’t worry.’

  Seumas stared at us oddly. Kevin said to him, ‘Not to mind us, we have a little joke between us. Carrie has just come down to give me the keys. I want to be sure she is home when I return them.’ He smiled, a funny quick smile. He was being almost chatty. ‘Where is your wee car, then, Seumas?’ he asked.

  ‘At the garage, in Braemore. It fell apart again.’ Seumas smiled. ‘I was thinking I’d have to walk to Achbuie, but I came through this way, hoping I’d find someone. I was lucky.’

  ‘Very,’ said Kevin, then he gave the green hood of the minivan a casual bash with his flat hand and turned and walked away. He was so casual. He never even looked over his shoulder; he was that confident of where I was going and that he’d find me there when he came for me.

  I knew very well that he would not be far behind us. He would give me time enough to drop Seumas at Achbuie, and time enough to get to Sron Ban. There, alone at Sron Ban, was where he wanted me.

  Seumas leaned sideways in his seat, looking at me, trying to fit his long angular body into the tight confines of the little car. He said, ‘What were you doing down here, Carrie?’

  ‘Bringing Kevin the keys. You heard him,’ I said with nervous sharpness. I didn’t want to answer questions, or to talk. My nerves were at the cracking point, and if I broke down, Seumas would get from me the reason. A few days earlier I might have confided in him. I knew now that would be insanity. If Seumas learned I had seen the guns, then he, friend though he was, would be as much threat to me as Kevin McGuire. He, like all the others, was in this too deep to get out. He would protect himself. He, too, had no choice.

  ‘Is Dominic away then?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Edinburgh.’

  ‘When will he be back?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, shaking my head wearily. ‘He never tells me.’ I glanced quickly across at Seumas.

  He looked serious and quiet and different. Then he said, ‘Carrie, you shouldn’t go down there alone. Stay away from that place.’

  I laughed, a brittle, scared laugh. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘You’re right. You�
��re very right.’

  ‘Will you stay away from there, promise me?’

  I looked at him again, catching the brief earnestness of his expression. Why did he have to be in this, too? Kevin, cruel cynic, yes. Dominic, hopeless wild fanatic, yes. But Seumas, laughing, joyous, brilliant Seumas. There were so many better places for him.

  I said dully, ‘I don’t think I’ll go back there.’

  He seemed satisfied and leaned back against the door of the van, studying me very quietly. He wasn’t like himself at all that day, but I was in no mood to notice. I dropped him off at the top of the Achbuie path. He got out of the car, shut the door, and then leaned suddenly in my window and kissed me lightly. ‘Take care,’ he said and turned and bounded down the path to the house.

  Grisel MacLeod was alone at Sron Ban Farm when I got there. Not that that made any real difference. Even with Angus there, these poor innocent old people were no protection. If I went to them, they, too, would be targets.

  Kevin was ruthless and clever. He would find a way to use them against me, as he had used Caitlin against me. I struggled with my sanity as Grisel chatted normally and cheerfully while she gathered up Caitlin’s things. She was asking me about my fabricated afternoon in Ullapool. Recklessly I lied, inventing a day that hadn’t happened. And quickly. Time was passing, my safety with it.

  I had one chance, and I would try it, but it needed all the time I could get. I knew I must take Caitlin; Kevin had warned me what would happen if he found her and not me.

  And I would walk. The road was useless. Single track and going relentlessly toward where even now Kevin was probably driving easily, calmly toward me. He was in no hurry. He could wait for me at the cross, if he pleased, where the distillery track met the road. Or he could come up to Sron Ban, slowly and patiently. Either way, he blocked my escape by road. I was not fool enough to try that. The road was narrow. If I met him, I’d not get past him. And even if I did, the rattly old van would not outrun his Land Rover.

  But the moor was wide and hilly and full of pockets and gullies and places to hide. It was ten miles and more of rough country walking, but I could reach Braemore that way, over the hill. And the police were in Braemore.

  I finally got free of Grisel, who, smiling and unknowing, waved pleasantly from her porch. I piled Caitlin into the van, driving one-handed, holding her with the other for the short distance to Sron Ban House.

  I stopped in front of the gate and opened the door, reaching for Caitlin. I stood up with her in my arms and then sagged, sick with shock and fear against the side of the van. The Range Rover was back in its place beside the house. Dominic was home. There was no escape, after all.

  Why, why did this have to be the one time he chose to be early? All the late nights I’d waited for him, lonely and uneasy. Today he had to be early.

  ‘You wouldn’t get any mercy from him, either, Carrie.’ Kevin’s voice grated on my mind. Was he right?

  I shifted the child’s weight up onto my hip and walked stiffly to the door. The house was warm and pleasant, smelling of coal smoke and fresh coffee. I slipped Caitlin to the floor and she toddled after me into the front room.

  Dominic sat in the rocking chair, reading by the fire. He raised his head from his book as I came in and smiled at me. He looked relaxed and peaceful and young in his jeans and Aran sweater; like a kid, except for the grey in the hair curling over the white wool collar. I couldn’t believe the secrets he had.

  He stood up and came gladly and quickly across the room to me, saying, ‘I’ve been waiting for you. I missed you.’ He put his arms around me and held me in a warm, gentle embrace, bending over me, the side of his face resting against my hair. I could not respond. I stood very still and he released me, stepping back, perhaps feeling the tension in me.

  ‘You’re early,’ I said flatly.

  ‘I missed you. I thought about you half the night.’ He took my arm and led me to the chair by the fire. ‘Come, have some coffee.’ Caitlin cried for attention and he bent absently and picked her up. She held on to him comfortably, her arms around his neck, but his eyes were still on me.

  I pulled away, still standing, not able to look at him. He came closer, and we stood there, the three of us, in front of the fire. With his free hand he gently touched my face, and whispered, ‘I couldn’t sleep for thinking about you. I got up and went out and walked around the streets in Edinburgh until it was light. I went to mass. I haven’t for months. This morning something was different. Then I drove home. I had to see you.’

  I couldn’t look at him. I said, with my eyes on the low flames in the grate, ‘I’m glad to see you concerned for your soul. You’ve got reason to be.’

  He said softly, smiling, ‘I won’t deny it.’ Then he leaned down over me and saw my face and he knew I was neither teasing nor joking.

  ‘What is it, Carrie?’ he asked very quietly.

  ‘I’ve been down to the distillery,’ I said.

  ‘Yes?’ He didn’t understand.

  ‘To the bonded warehouse. I was inside …’

  ‘How?’ he cut in sharply, suddenly all tense awareness. I made myself look up at him, made my eyes meet his. ‘I took the keys. I took the keys from your room and let myself in.’

  His eyes narrowed, he almost winced, then he whispered, ‘You did that? You?’

  I nodded. I wasn’t proud of it. ‘I had to,’ I said, defending myself. ‘I had to. Don’t you see? For Caitlin. I had to find out what you were doing.’

  He set the child down on the floor gently, but ignoring her protests. He turned away and walked to the window. He said, not facing me, ‘And you found out.’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered, remembering clearly. ‘I found out.’ There was a long silence and then he said, looking down at his hands resting on the table, ‘Oh, Carrie. Now what are we going to do?’

  ‘Kevin’s after me,’ I said.

  ‘Kevin!’

  ‘Oh yes. He caught me there.’

  ‘And he let you go?’ he said, incredulous.

  ‘You needn’t worry,’ I returned angrily. ‘He’s not slacking on the job. He had to let me go, because Seumas came. But he warned me. He said he’d get Caitlin if I tried to run away. So I came back.’ I raised my hands in a bitter shrug.

  ‘He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him,’ he said quickly. I laughed, shocking him.

  ‘Will you protect me then, like you protected Shona? Stop it, Dominic. I know all about you and I just don’t want to hear any more.’

  ‘Carrie, what are you saying?’ he said, amazed. I shouted, ‘You won’t let me leave here either. You know that. Why lie about it?’

  I don’t think he had even thought about it. I walked right up to him, and looking into his eyes I said harshly, ‘I know about all of you, and your guns, and the cowardly terrible way you’ve chosen to fight your war. Now, are you really going to let me walk out of here?’

  ‘What are you trying to make me do?’ he said in a low, pained voice.

  ‘I’m trying to get you to face reality,’ I said wearily. ‘You won’t let me go. You won’t protect me from Kevin. You can’t, can you?’

  He covered his face with his hands, leaning back against the table. He said softly through his shuttered fingers, ‘No.’ He looked up at me, hopeless and sad.

  ‘Don’t weep for me,’ I said cruelly. ‘You’ll have plenty of lassies to comfort you. You can go back to Mary Fraser, like you always do when you’re scared.’

  ‘Never,’ he said fiercely. I laughed. He crossed the room and gripped my shoulders hard, saying, ‘Never since you came here. I swear it. I’ve never wanted anyone else since I met you. I loved you the day I saw you in New York. Even there.’

  I caught at his arms, holding him close to me, and whispered, ‘If you love me, give it up, Dominic. Come away with me, now. We’ve still got time. We can go to the law. I’ll stand by you. If you go to prison, I’ll wait for you. I’ll keep Caitlin and wait for you. But come, now, before Kevin gets here,’
I begged.

  ‘I won’t go to prison,’ he said hoarsely, angrily. ‘I’m not a criminal. I’m fighting for my country. That’s no crime, Carrie. It’s war.’

  I let him go. To me, all wars were crimes. ‘Leave it, Dominic, leave it,’ I said. ‘You’re not helping anyone.’

  ‘I can’t leave it,’ he answered slowly. ‘Not until it’s finished.’

  ‘It’ll never be finished,’ I said bitterly.

  ‘Oh yes. Yes it will, someday, Carrie.’ Suddenly he smiled and he took my hands and held them, the way he had done the day we met. ‘Carrie, help me. Stay with me and marry me, and help me with my work. We’ll win the war, I know we will.’ He spoke with fiery conviction. ‘And when it’s over, we’ll go to Ireland, together. We’ll have a farm. Somewhere where it’s green and beautiful. We’ll raise horses. You’ll have an Irish hunting mare, and we’ll ride together, in the morning, in the mists.’ He raised one hand to my chin and turned my face up to look at him. His dark eyes were beautiful, alight with a vision of a time and a place neither of us was ever going to see.

  For a brief flickering beautiful moment I saw the vision, too. I turned away from it. I couldn’t ever be a part of the thing he was doing, and build my life on the suffering of innocents.

  ‘The troubles will never be over, not as long as there are people like you to feed the flames.’

  ‘Men must have guns to win a war,’ he said.

  I stood back from him, studying his face sadly and lovingly. Once Danny and I had stood like this, and we had balanced our beliefs, and I had bent mine down and gone against them. It had cost me dearly.

  I had vowed over Danny’s grave I would never turn that way again, away from the things I believed in. But now, unless I did just that, I would pay the same price again.

  Then for Danny’s memory as much as anything else, I said, ‘Your guns won’t help anyone win or lose. Kevin sells them to the highest bidder. Either side. He doesn’t care. Half of them have gone to kill your own people.’

  He didn’t want to believe me. He shook his head, a funny look of pain in his eyes.

 

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