Died in the Wool

by Melinda Mullet

  “Thought they had a great line of sight for the drop and then a crowd of kids showed up. The undercover officers kept a close eye on who left. The envelope was a decent size but they didn’t see anyone taking off with it. It was gone from the drop location, of course. Right now they are going through the owner’s CCTV footage to see if any of the faces pop up as a match for anything but your average drunk college kid.”

  “Could just as likely be one of the kids. They could have been paid to pick up the envelope and deliver it on to someone else.” Damn. I thought I was the one who screwed up. Edinburgh’s finest dropped the ball just as badly. “Any sign of a man in a cheap dark suit loitering around?”

  “No, why?”

  “I think I’m being followed by one of Urquhart’s people. A security guard from the law firm. Urquhart knows I’ve been asking questions about him and Sheila.”

  “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  “I wanted to find out if he knew about the ransom. Patrick and I gave him the slip before we headed over to the drop. I figured if he didn’t know where to find us after he lost us, then it was a good bet he didn’t know a demand had been made.”

  “You could’ve compromised the whole operation. And what the hell was Patrick doing there?”

  “Watching my back.”

  “That’s Elliot’s job.”

  “So far I have to say I’m not impressed with his work.”

  “Look, if one of those kids took the money, Elliot’ll figure out who and we still have the advantage of surprise because no one knows the police were involved.”

  “You better hope they don’t. Now that you’ve grabbed the CCTV footage, the owner’s on alert, and he may already have told our scam artist if they were in on it together. Did the police search the restaurant after it closed?”

  “Of course. Nothing.”

  “Nothing but another tip-off.” Damn. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Lay low and watch for the next communication from the kidnappers and pray for some better news.”

  I hung up feeling worse than ever. I’d failed Amanda and the police had failed her. I knew she’d be awake and waiting to hear from me. I’d have to go and face the music.

  I nudged Trish. “Time to get you back to bed before anyone notices you’re missing.” Trish groaned and sat up. She muttered a few choice words before slipping off the bench and stumbling sleepily into the house.

  I followed behind and went in search of Amanda. I knocked on her office door and she opened it instantly, as if she’d been poised for my arrival. She pulled me inside and shut the door behind us.

  “What’s happened? I’ve been frantic.”

  I provided a short summary of the whole, sad, sorry mess.

  Amanda put her hand to her mouth as if she was trying to stop herself from being physically ill. “Then we’ve lost the money, and we still have no idea where Sheila is or if we’ll ever see her again.”

  I put an arm around her shoulder and led her to a chair, wrapping a shawl around her. The blood had left her face and she was swaying on her feet. I didn’t need her going into shock on me.

  “What a disaster.” Amanda began to rock slowly back and forth. “Maybe you’re right, maybe we should’ve called the police,” she moaned. “What have I done?”

  “You did what you thought was best. Even when you told the police you’d heard from Sheila,” I pointed out. Amanda looked down at her hands, refusing to meet my eyes. “But I had to do what I thought was best,” I continued. “Yesterday, I called my friend in Stirling—the detective inspector who gave the referral for Louisa. I told him we were reluctant to be seen going to the local authorities so he helped to liaise between me and the police here. I know you didn’t want that, but I really believed it was too risky to try to go it alone.”

  “Thank you,” Amanda whispered. “For a moment there I thought I’d ruined everything. So where were the police in all this?”

  “They were watching the drop site as well, but they were in the same boat we were. The sudden flood of people took them by surprise. They lost the package in the shuffle, but they’re looking at the CCTV footage from the area and I hope they’ll have better luck coming up with a lead than I did. I’m really sorry.”

  Amanda gave a shuddering sigh. “It’s not your fault. You did all you could do without tipping off the kidnappers. I suppose now we can only wait and pray.”

  I wished I could offer more, but Amanda had just about summed it up. Wait and pray.

  Chapter 17

  I awoke after a couple of hours of restless sleep on the settee in the living room of the shelter with a stiff neck and a headache. Karen and Cheryl gave me an odd look at the breakfast table, but I waved off their questions with a vague story about having drunk too much and not wanting to drive home last night. My haggard face certainly supported the lie. I poured myself a cup of coffee and slumped over the kitchen table.

  “Any news about Sheila?” Cheryl asked.

  “Nothing new,” I replied truthfully. “Neither of you’ve heard from her, I take it?”

  I watched the two girls across the table from me. Cheryl shook her head and continued chasing a piece of cereal around the bottom of her bowl with a spoon. The milk had turned an unappetizing shade of blue as a result of some dismal-looking marshmallows floating on the top. I turned my attention to Karen. As usual, she was hiding behind a curtain of hair. “Karen?”

  She jumped at the sound of her name. “No, no. I haven’t heard anything from her.”

  “Were you surprised to hear that Duncan Ross is a suspect in Jenny’s death?” I asked point-blank. The question noticeably startled both girls. Karen looked up and met my eyes for a moment and Cheryl let go of her spoon, making a loud noise on the side of the bowl.

  These two were hiding something, I was sure of it. I’d keep on poking at them until one of them finally told me what it was. “You two were the last ones to see Jenny alive. How was she feeling?”

  I waited patiently for them to consider what to say. I was under no illusion that they would tell the truth, but sometimes lies are just as insightful.

  “Jenny was pretty out of it,” Cheryl began slowly, weighing her words. “She was complaining she’d have bruises by the morning, Ross’d grabbed her so hard.”

  “So Jenny actually told you about fighting Ross off after she got home?”

  “Didn’t have to tell us, we heard it,” Karen interjected. “Jenny sent me a voice file from her phone. I didn’t find it till the morning, but you could hear her wrestling with the bastard.”

  I looked at her, stunned. “A voice file?”

  Karen nodded. “Jenny taped Ross that night on her cellphone. She was trying to get up the nerve to report him to the cops. She thought they might believe her if they could hear him in action.”

  “What did you do with the file?”

  “Gave it to the lady copper. It was a good thing she thought to send me a copy ’cause she lost her phone on the way home from the Rosses’.”

  No wonder the police felt comfortable filing preliminary charges against Ross. They had an audiotape. “Good. At least someone is being held accountable,” I said.

  “It’s no more than he deserves,” Karen insisted. “And it’s been a long time coming. He’s hurt so many women, at least now he’s going to pay.”

  Cheryl nodded silently, turning her phone over in her hand. “Jeez, look at the time. I’m going to be late for work.” She rose and dropped her bowl by the sink. Karen followed her out the door. Something still struck me as odd about those two. Karen seemed stronger and more confident since Ross’s arrest, or maybe she was simply stepping up in Sheila’s absence. Cheryl, on the other hand, looked more frightened than vindicated. Maybe the police would have better luck sorting it out. I had to remain focused on finding Sheila and bri
nging her home alive.

  I checked the street below from the front window and saw no sign of a black sedan. I took the opportunity to slip down the street to my car and put in a private call to Michaelson.

  “Anything from the CCTV?” I asked without pausing for pleasantries.

  “One possible lead. A young man in a green anorak was seen going in but not coming out. They figure he must have slipped out the back door.”

  “Have they identified him?”

  “Not yet. They’re scanning through the college records to see if he’s a student.”

  “What about CCTV from the neighboring bars? See if he’d been somewhere else just before.”

  “Calm down. Harry’s on it. No more communications from the kidnapper?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Still at the Shepherd’s Rest. I wanted to be close. Did the police have eyes on Sam last night?

  “He was at home and didn’t go out.”

  “What about Urquhart?”

  “He had dinner at his club and didn’t leave till gone midnight,”

  “And Colin Templeton was at La Mer having a business meeting,” I finished.

  “How did you know?”

  “I was there having dinner with Patrick before I made the drop. Patrick and the owner are friends.”

  “Trust Elliot’s men to handle this. The last thing we need at this point is you doing something else rash,” Michaelson said. “Just call us if you hear anything more.”

  * * *

  —

  I was sure that Michaelson would consider going over to Duncan Ross’s place “something rash,” but I wanted to talk to the housekeeper again. I hoped she might have something to say about Urquhart’s visits to Duncan. When I pulled up in front of the house I noticed that the black Vauxhall wasn’t in the drive. With any luck, that meant Lila Ross was absent as well.

  Maria answered the door, looking less than pleased to see company. “I’m sorry, but Mrs. Ross is not at home at the moment.”

  I breathed an internal sigh of relief. “It was actually you I came to see. Could you spare a few moments to answer some questions?”

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  I put a hand out to stop the door from closing. “Please. Just a couple of quick questions. Your employers aren’t here.”

  I sensed her hesitation and I pulled out a picture of Sheila that I’d borrowed from Amanda. “Have you seen this woman around here?”

  Maria took a close look at the photo before shaking her head in the negative.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I try to keep my head down,” she insisted. “In my country that is how you stay out of trouble.”

  “Where are you from?” I asked, trying my best to find a point of connection between us.

  “Chile.”

  “I was there a couple of years ago. Beautiful country, but a hard and violent life.”

  “Things are better here,” she admitted, “mostly. At least I don’t fear for my life anymore when I walk down the street.”

  “You don’t, but others do.” I held up the picture again. “Sheila’s gone missing and I’m trying to find her. You know what it means to mourn the disappeared.”

  Maria opened the door a fraction and motioned me inside. “The woman in the picture used to work as a nanny for the children,” she said quietly. “She lasted about three weeks. Longer than most, but she escaped as quickly as she could.”

  “So you knew her?”

  “Not well. Staff comes and goes here all the time. Doesn’t do to get friendly.”

  “Have you seen Sheila around here more recently?”

  “No. I don’t see anything. I’m paid to be silent and unseen.”

  Not nearly enough, I’d wager. “But you do see things, don’t you?” I cajoled. “Was Richard Urquhart a regular visitor?”

  Maria shrugged but didn’t deny his visits.

  “Can you remember the last time he was here?”

  Maria shook her head. “I don’t want to get involved with the police.”

  “I understand, but can you at least tell me? I don’t want to cause trouble. I just want to find Sheila before it’s too late. She has a daughter, you know. Eleven years old and wondering if she’ll ever see her mother again.”

  Maria’s shoulder’s sagged and she looked unhappy. “Mr. Urquhart was at the house on Wednesday night,” she said finally. “He and Mr. Ross were having an argument in Mr. Ross’s office.”

  “What about?”

  “I don’t understand their business matters.”

  “But you heard some of what was said. Can you remember words?” I prompted.

  “I heard them speaking about a vote.”

  I nodded encouragingly. That was the day after the board meeting. It would make sense they were talking about the vote. Urquhart must’ve been angry. “What else?”

  “I heard them mention Templeton Farms several times. And at the end Mr. Ross just kept insisting that he didn’t want to get involved.”

  “Involved with what?”

  “I didn’t hear and I didn’t want to. It’s best not to know.”

  Could Urquhart have been enlisting Ross’s aid to help get rid of Sheila? Was that what Ross didn’t want to get involved with? If he was willing to talk, that could be just the lead the police needed to go after Urquhart. And in his present situation Ross might be very willing to trade information if he had any.

  “And you couldn’t hear what they said about the Templetons?”

  “No,” Maria answered firmly.

  Urquhart had been pressuring Greer to change her vote in the days following the meeting. He was probably trying to get Ross to put pressure on her as well. “Did Mr. Ross go out again that night?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Was Mrs. Ross home?”

  “No.”

  “I understand she’s not around much. Do you know where she stays when she’s not here?”

  Maria pursed her lips. “She has a sister on the other side of town. She claims she goes there, but I’ve seen the clothes she packs. You do not wear those with a sister.”

  “She came home the night that Jenny Woodyard was minding the children.”

  “I saw her come home and I knew it wasn’t going to be a good place to be, but it was raining. I wanted to sneak back into the house and hide in my room, but when I got to the door Mrs. Ross was standing in the front hall screaming at Mr. Ross. Calling him an idiot and telling him she was tired of cleaning up after him.”

  “Was she surprised by what she found?”

  “Surprised?” Maria considered for a moment, choosing her words. “No. Mrs. Ross, she tries to ignore the women, but the other night it was impossible to ignore. She is very protective of her family name. She kept telling him he was scullerying their reputation.”

  “Sullying?”

  “Si, sullying. What does this mean?”

  “It means he was soiling their family name. Is it true that Mrs. Ross took Jenny back to the shelter that night?”

  Maria nodded. “First, she went to pack another bag. Said she was going back to her sister’s. When she came down, the girl was sitting on the bench in the front hall, saying she thought she was going to faint.”

  “Did she?”

  “No. Mrs. Ross got her a glass of water, told her to drink it, and then loaded her in the car to drive her home.”

  “Mrs. Ross got her a glass of water? Not you?”

  “I offered, but she said no.”

  “Didn’t that seem odd to you?”

  “Si, but she insisted.”

  Why would Lila Ross insist on getting Jenny a drink? Had she spiked Jenny’s drink as well, hoping to make her confused about the events o
f the night? Maybe confused enough to make her an unreliable witness should she go to the police the next day. It would make her insistence on driving Jenny home make more sense.

  “What happened next?”

  “The girl left with Mrs. Ross.”

  “Did anyone help her to the car?”

  “No. I’ve said all I can say. You need to go.” Maria hustled me out the door and I stood on the steps wondering whether both Lila and Duncan Ross were to blame for Jenny’s death. It would make a lot of sense. If they had both given her a dose of Rohypnol, combined with the alcohol and the Prozac, no wonder it was too much for her system. Once we sorted out the situation with Sheila, I’d have to make sure Elliot’s people spoke to Maria again.

  For now I was more interested in the fact that Urquhart had been at the house the night Sheila disappeared. Had he told Ross what he was planning to do with Sheila? Had Ross balked at the idea in general or only because he was already nervous about Jenny’s death? As I walked to the car, I sent Michaelson a text suggesting that Elliot’s people question Ross about the meeting as long as they had him in custody.

  Maria said that Ross and Urquhart were talking about Templeton Farms. What did Templeton Farms have to do with either Sheila or the Manorcare deal? Nothing, as far as I could tell. Had I missed something? Could the Templetons be involved in Sheila’s disappearance? If so, why would Colin Templeton offer to help pay the ransom? I had no answer for that one. Maybe it was time to pay the Templetons another visit. I picked up the phone, dialed the house, and got Greer on the line.

  “I know it’s a Sunday, but the light’s beautiful today and I have a bit of time on my hands. Would you mind if I stopped over to start taking some of the photos for your new brochures?”

  “I’d love that,” Greer enthused. “Are you sure you have time?”

  “I can squeeze you in. Be there in about half an hour.”

  “Perfect.”

  I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth time in the past two hours. Still no news from Amanda, and nothing about Sheila.