Died in the Wool

by Melinda Mullet

  * * *

  —

  I hadn’t completely lied to Greer. The light was beautiful today. A thin layer of clouds cast a muted glow over the land. The colors spoke of the arrival of spring, and as I drove up the drive to the house, I mentally assessed the diffused light and picked the best angles for capturing the new growth pushing up through the soil.

  Greer ran down the front steps to meet me as I pulled Hope into a space under a tree.

  “I’m so excited. This is going to be great. Where do you want to start?”

  I grabbed my gear from the trunk of the car and stood, looking around. “I notice you have a widow’s walk on the top of the house. Any way to get up there? It would be great to get a shot of the grounds from above. It’s such a pretty layout.”

  “Haven’t been up there in years, but we should be able to access it from the attic.”

  Exactly what I hoped Greer would say. I followed her inside the house and up a grand flight of stairs from the ground floor. The first level looked like bedrooms, but the doors were all closed. The second floor was storage rooms and servants’ quarters left over from the days when a house this size would have had a full complement of upstairs and downstairs servants. Easy enough to conceal a prisoner if the owners were cooperating. I wanted to run down the hall and fling open all the doors, but Greer continued along at a determined pace.

  At the end of the hall, Greer opened a narrow door that led to the attic. I climbed the stairs behind her, looking for signs of recent use. If I’d hoped to find a prisoner tied and left in a giant chest or cupboard, I was going to be disappointed. The attic itself was largely empty. A few boxes were stacked up at the far end, covered with dust, and a few pieces of wicker furniture had been left to rot.

  The exit to the roof was a metal door with a padlock that wasn’t engaged. We stepped outside and were greeted by a stiff breeze and a lovely panorama of the fields below. The plastic tops on the seasonal greenhouses had been rolled back to allow the sun to penetrate, and this was a perfect angle to appreciate the color and diversity of the plants below.

  Greer took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Isn’t it lovely? I don’t think I’ve ever seen the grounds from this angle.”

  “Tell me what I’m looking at,” I said, snapping photos.

  “Down there, to the left, are the heirloom potatoes and lettuces. As you move round to the right, the reddish-looking leaves are golden beets, after that miniature gourds, shallots, chives, and parsley, and round the edges are rosemary and oregano bushes. In the back by the tree line are lavender bushes and some lemon verbena and sage. Over to the right side are strawberries, lingonberries, and black currants.”

  “It all seems to be thriving.” I pointed to the navy shed with the small porch off to the right side. “That’s your herb shed, right?”

  Greer nodded. “Yes. I’ve had to move my packaging activities to the greenhouse for the moment. Colin’s having the floorboards refinished in the shed itself.”

  “Have you had problems?”

  “Not yet, but Colin says it’s just a matter of time, and if I’m going to be in there a lot, it should be safe.”

  “What are the other buildings we can see from here?”

  “The one straight back hidden in the tree line is our machine shed. We keep a small tractor and a hand-driven tiller in there. I’d do it all in the old-fashioned way, but Colin’s not as patient. He always wants us to get on and get growing.”

  “And the other building? What was that again?” I said, pointing to the long, low building off to the far left side of the gardens.

  “That’s our outdoor junk room. Everything we don’t really need but think we might one day. Too much clutter for me. That’s Colin’s domain. He’s the family pack rat.”

  I took several photos of the building from outside. The low metal building had a shallow roof with four large skylights, all encased in dust and grime, and the grass around it had died off, leaving nothing but bare dirt and rock. The only dead space in all that vibrant green.

  I took a number of shots before turning back to Greer. “Right, let’s go see those herbs then, while the light holds.”

  We retraced our steps through the house and back outside. No sign of Colin. Perhaps he was with Amanda, trying to keep her mind off the situation with Sheila. For her sake, I hoped so.

  “Where’s Colin?”

  “He stayed in town last night with a friend. He’s not back yet.” After a long pause she added, “He’s young.”

  “He’s the same age as you,” I observed.

  “I know. He just hasn’t outgrown that pub and partying scene yet. I suppose he’s still looking for what makes him happy.”

  “Is he seeing anyone special?”

  “Not that he’s told me. He likes to keep his private life private. As he likes to remind me I’m his sister, not his mother.”

  “Probably just as well he’s not dating, right? Keeps his mind on the business.”

  Greer led us back along the halls hung with paintings of horses and dogs. “Honestly, I’d rather he found someone that makes him happy and settles down.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “Have you found what makes you happy?”

  “This is what makes me happy. All this.” Greer gestured with a wide-sweeping arm as we stepped out onto the terrace. “What more could you want out of life?”

  “A partner,” I suggested.

  “I’ll get to that in good time. But it’ll have to be someone who shares my love for growing things.” Greer blushed slightly and steered me away from the topic. “Do you want to start with the drying shed or the herbs out here?”

  “Let’s start out here while the light is good.” I got down on my hands and knees and crawled through the dirt, taking close-ups of the various herbs where they grew. Lush green and immaculate, they would make great images for a brochure. While I was there, I took some extreme close-ups of the junk shed from my vantage point in the garden. There were two doors, one on the side and one at the rear. Both were padlocked and the windows were opaque with grime and dust. I’d like to get a closer look at that shed. Something was odd about it, but I had no way to justify it, especially as Greer was anxiously waiting to take me over to the herb-drying shed.

  We approached the neat shed with the bright green door. I took photos of the outside and more again of the inside. Things looked the same as when I’d been in there last, including, I had to say, the floor. The old boards creaked under our weight, but if work was being done, it wasn’t much. It seemed to have been swept recently but the floorboards still looked the same. None of them new or replaced. There were four oak barrels in the corner that reminded me of the barrels we used at Abby Glen. “What’s in here?”

  Greer pulled off one of the lids. “Nothing yet. I’m going to fit rods on the bottom of the barrel lids so I can hang and dry some of the herbs that are more appealing to the rodents on the inside. I hope that will keep them from being nibbled at.”

  “If you ever need more barrels, let us know. We usually have an assortment of spent ones lying around.”

  Greer slid the empty barrel back against the wall and I noticed the line of a trapdoor in the floor in the corner.

  “Where does that go?”

  “There’s a dank little basement level under here. Used to be used for storing beer kegs in the days when home brewing was a thing we did. Now it’s just empty.”

  We heard a footfall on the porch and turned toward the door. “Greer, I’ve told you to keep out of here until the floors are fixed. It’s dangerous.” Colin stepped into the door and saw me in the corner with my camera slung around my neck. It was only a fractional motion, but I could have sworn his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize we had company.” He stepped back and gestured for both of us to leave the shed.

  “I hired Abi to tak
e some photos for the brochures for the new herb business,” Greer said.

  I tried to smile genuinely and raised the camera slightly. “Got some great shots of the plants in the fields. Just needed a couple of them drying in the shed. It’s a great product. You should do really well with it.”

  “Greer has certainly put her heart and soul into it, but I’m surprised to find you here. I thought you were waiting for news about Sheila.”

  “We are waiting, but I can’t just sit. That’s why I thought I’d come take a few photos out here in the fresh air. It calms my nerves.”

  Greer and I followed Colin back to the house. “I find being out with the plants calms me, too,” Greer said. “Abi got some beautiful close-ups of the plants and a series of amazing aerial shots of the property I never would have thought of.”

  Colin looked surprised. “How did you get aerial shots?”

  “From the roof,” I admitted. “Greer and I climbed up through the attic. Gorgeous view from the crow’s nest up there, especially with the plastic roofs rolled back.”

  “You’re lucky you weren’t injured. No one has been up there for years. It could have been unstable. God knows Mother wasn’t much of a one for basic maintenance.”

  Was it my imagination or did Colin’s eyes suddenly lose their playful glimmer. The eyes that looked back at me were sharp and watchful. “Seemed sound enough to me, and it’s a beautiful house.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” Colin said, draping an arm around Greer’s shoulder. “So many memories here for us. Hard sometimes to separate the good from the bad.”

  “But it’s good now, isn’t it.” Greer smiled. “Thanks so much for taking the time to do the photos.”

  “Can’t wait to see them,” Colin said. “Especially the aerial shots. Maybe we could use some of those on our website, if you don’t mind, that is. It’ll be a new perspective on the place.”

  “Sure, I’ll send you the proofs tomorrow. Feel free to use what you like.”

  I packed up the rest of my gear and drove away as quickly as I could. My hands were gripping the wheel so tightly that my bones were standing out in sharp relief. Templeton Farms sat on a large estate, one that Richard Urquhart was intimately familiar with. After all, he’d been going there for years. I was suddenly convinced that what Maria overheard was not Urquhart seeking Ross’s help to kidnap Sheila, but to conceal her. Ross had declined to help, but Colin was willing to vote with Urquhart in order to maintain his business connections. What else was he willing to do? Possibly hide a kidnapped woman or a body on his estate.

  Chapter 18

  Still no message from Amanda, but there was one from Michaelson. I pushed the hands-free button and dialed his cell number. He answered so quickly, I was afraid something awful had happened.

  “Have you heard from the kidnappers?” he demanded.

  “Nothing yet,” I said.

  “Well, you’re doing a lousy job of laying low.”

  “I just stopped at the Rosses’ place on shelter business,” I said quickly.

  “You were at Duncan Ross’s place?”

  “Yeah, it was nothing, they weren’t home. What were you talking about?” I said, sensing I’d goofed.

  “You’ve started a firestorm around Elliot’s office. Urquhart called the chief superintendent, an old friend apparently, and complained that you’ve been harassing him at his office and accusing him of being involved in Sheila Kinkaid’s disappearance. Elliot got hell from his governor, and he’s not best pleased with me.”

  I winced. “Sorry. I just stopped by to talk to him about the inspection we’d had done on the new property. I guess I got carried away. But as long as we’re flinging accusations around, I told you he’d had me followed. Well, his guy assaulted me with a door last night when I tried to talk to him.”

  “Serves you right for trying to talk to him. I’m going to put you under house arrest if you can’t stop meddling.”

  Clearly it was time for a change of subject. “Any news on the runner?” I asked. “Have they managed to question this guy yet?”

  “No. His roommate says she hasn’t seen him since Saturday morning.”

  “Great, another missing person. Have Elliot’s men followed up on Sam?”

  “No joy. He was at his mother’s the night Sheila vanished. He goes every other Wednesday to Kirkcaldy and stays over. For now, their best lead is the runner that retrieved the cash, and they’re looking everywhere for him.”

  “That might lead us to the kidnapper, but I still believe it won’t lead you to Sheila.” I seethed. “Her time is running out.”

  “Elliot’s men are doing all they can.”

  “But it’s not enough.” I struggled to keep the anger and frustration out of my voice. “I just came from Templeton Farms. Greer Templeton hired me to take some photos for a company brochure. For what it’s worth, there are a lot of sheds and storage places on that property that are seldom used. If I were trying to hide someone, they’d do the trick nicely.”

  “Tell me you aren’t hiding someone.”

  “I’m just saying. Also, Urquhart knows that property well. He’s been going there for years.”

  “We can’t go crashing in without probable cause,” Michaelson pointed out.

  “I’ll send you copies of the photos I took today. Take a close look at the sheds—particularly the long steel one. I still say it looks like a good place to hide something you don’t want found.”

  “I’ll take a look.”

  “Do Greer and Colin Templeton have alibis for the night Sheila vanished?” I didn’t really suspect Greer was involved, but I was starting to sense that Colin wasn’t all he seemed.

  “Greer was at home. Alone. Colin was in town staying with a lady friend. So far, he’s refused to give a name.”

  “Amanda Forrester.”

  “You’re kidding? Why didn’t you mention that there was a connection between the two of them sooner?”

  “I hoped they would.” Michaelson didn’t say so, but I sensed he still hadn’t eliminated Amanda as a potential suspect, and placing her in company with Colin didn’t help her seem any less suspicious.

  “That was not your call to make,” Michaelson growled. “Was he staying at the shelter with her?”

  “Not sure where they stay,” I replied.

  “Hang on a moment,” Michaelson said. “Elliot’s on the other line.”

  I waited impatiently for him to return to me.

  “What did he say?” I demanded as soon as he came back on the line.

  “Nothing good, I’m afraid. They found a body washed up on the shore of the Firth of Forth near the Edenside bird sanctuary.”

  I felt my insides turn to water. “Sheila?”

  “No. The young man in the green jacket from the CCTV.”

  My momentary relief quickly turned to anger. “Damn. That was the only connection we had to the ransom money.”

  I pulled the car over to the side of the road and got out. I needed to move. I paced around on the verge and vented my frustration on a large rock, which didn’t budge in the slightest, producing a throbbing toe and a string of invective that startled even Michaelson.

  “Elliot’s on top of things, even if it doesn’t seem so,” he insisted.

  “I think we’ve reached the point where we have to let the police go at it full on,” I said. “While Elliot’s tiptoeing around trying to be subtle, he’s getting no answers and Sheila’s still being held prisoner somewhere.”

  “I only hope she is.” Michaelson sighed. “Send me the photos and call right away if you hear anything.”

  * * *

  —

  I pulled up in front of the shelter and steeled myself for another emotional encounter. I was tired of always being the bearer of bad tidings. Amanda answered the door so quickly, she must h
ave been sitting in her office waiting. “Any news?”

  I followed her inside to the kitchen. “The police identified the guy who retrieved the cash, but unfortunately his body washed up on the shore of the Firth today.”

  Amanda sat down hard on the nearest wooden chair. “That means the kidnapper won’t hesitate to kill if he needs to,” she said grimly. “In fact, he may’ve already done so.”

  “I’m afraid so.” I watched Amanda, fearing a meltdown was imminent. But as much as anything, she looked as if she was trying to embrace the reality of the situation by speaking the words aloud. I watched her pick up her phone and send off a message.

  Her lover, I presumed. “How long have you and Colin been an item?” I asked.

  “About six months or so,” Amanda said wearily. “I knew I couldn’t fool you, but for the most part we try to keep our relationship under wraps. It’s Greer, you see. She’s very possessive about her brother. Gets insanely jealous of the women in his life.”

  I tried to picture earthy, levelheaded Greer Templeton going into a rage over her brother’s girlfriend. The woman who’d just told me she’d like to see her brother settled with someone who would make him happy. “Who told you that?”

  “Colin’s told me some incredible stories. She looks so quiet and meek. You’d never think it.”

  “Was it Colin you were with the night Sheila disappeared?”

  “Is that important?”

  “It would give you both solid alibis if you were,” I suggested.

  “That’s something, at least.” Amanda sighed. “Yes, I was with him that night at his flat in town.”

  “He has a flat in town?”

  “Sure. He can’t trek out to the farm every night if he’s been out late drinking and wooing clients. It’s not safe.”

  I wondered if Amanda thought she was the only one whom Colin was spending time with at that flat. The brunette at La Mer the other night certainly seemed to have captured his attention. “So you were there with him all night?”

  “Yes. We’d had a few too many drinks and we both crashed by midnight. That’s why I felt so guilty the next day when I found that Sheila was gone. I was off having a good time and she was—” Amanda started to cry.