Competition Can Be Murder (17 page)

“. . . sometime?” Ramona turned to me. Apparently she had just asked a question.

I jerked back to reality. “I’m sorry, I got a little ways behind you and didn’t hear that last part,” I said.

“I was just asking whether you’d like to go into town for some shopping sometime. I guess women who don’t work on farms do that—girl’s day out, that sort of thing.”

“Sure.” I forced a smile. “That’d be nice.”

If I haven’t found enough evidence by then to throw your husband in the slammer.

I followed her into the cottage, my eyes darting to every spot inside while she went directly into the kitchen and filled the kettle.

“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked.

“Oh, sure. The door on the left,” she said, indicating the two closed doors beyond the living room.

I purposely went to the door on the right and opened it. In one quick glance I could tell that it was a bedroom, bed neatly made, dresser top covered with framed photos, and a few items of clothing draped over a chair. No teenage boy, bound and gagged.

“Oops! The other left,” I said, quickly backing out and heading toward the real bathroom door. I closed it behind me and pondered what, if anything, I should do next. If Ian were involved, I didn’t think Ramona knew it. The way she’d talked about his great plan for making more money than ever before, I didn’t get the sense that she knew anything about the plan herself. If Ian had given his father’s heart attack as his reason for being gone awhile, then I imagined that was all she knew. He was operating on his own, or at least without his wife’s help, I felt sure. The heart attack story would be easy enough to verify. For now, I’d see if I could get any more information from Ramona.

I flushed the toilet for authenticity and rinsed my hands at the sink.

“That was quite a rain we had last night,” I said, striving for a topic that wouldn’t allow my face to give away my inner thoughts.

“Yes, it was. Here, the tea’s just about ready. I’m afraid I don’t have anything much to offer with it. Haven’t been to the store in awhile. Some toast, maybe?”

“No, actually I don’t think I could hold a bite.” The heavy Scottish Breakfast would easily anchor my butt to my chair. “Just the tea would be wonderful. It’s a bit chilly out.”

“Do you have a way to get to the store?” I asked, once she’d set the cups on the table and taken her own seat. “It just now hit me that Ian probably took your vehicle to . . . was it Aberdeen?”

“Yes, he did. I’ve been walking down to the wee market at the crossroads. It’s got nearly everything.”

I remembered the bitterness in Ian’s voice the day I’d overheard him in that same market. Perhaps his hatred for Robert Dunbar and his position in Parliament went to the extreme.

“I get the feeling Ian doesn’t like the Dunbars much,” I ventured.

“What?” She gave me a puzzled look.

“Uh, well . . .” Oh great, Charlie, blow it right at the beginning. I realized the question must have come completely out of left field. I struggled for a segue but could only come up with the truth. “The first time I ever met Ian was just outside our cottage. I heard voices arguing and learned that they were he and Robert Dunbar.”

Ramona chewed her lower lip.

“I would imagine there are a lot of people who don’t care for him,” I added, backpedaling to gain her confidence again. “Some of his votes haven’t been the most popular choices, have they?”

She twisted the corner of a paper napkin into a point.

“Or so I’ve heard.” I took a sip of tea. “Look, I guess local politics isn’t really any of my business.”

She put the napkin aside and picked up her mug. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Charlie. I try to stay out of it myself. Plenty to do around here without getting into all that as well.” She blew on the tea gently, then took a sip. “Ian usually stays out of politics himself. It’s just the issue of the wool prices. Affects us so deeply, you know. We can’t get away from it.”

For the first time, her face folded into worry lines and she aged ten years. In twenty, she’d be a hard-edged middle-aged farm woman; the perky blond ponytail and functional-stylish denim overalls would give way to saggy tweeds and gray hair pulled into a tight bun. Knowing that her current existence would never change had to be disheartening. The temptation to grab for the brass ring, if one came available, would be nearly overwhelming.

I drained my mug and set it down.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bring down the mood,” she said. Although her smile lit up, her blue eyes were just the tiniest bit too bright.

“Oh, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. I apologize.”

“Probably do Ian some good to be away for a few days,” she said, “even if it’s not under the best of circumstances.”

I said goodbye a few minutes later and set out for the castle, feeling a mixture of pity for the shepherds’ plight and horror at the idea that one of them might have taken revenge to this extent.

About halfway down the path to the gazebo, my cell phone rang. I jumped with the suddenness of it, my heart going into double-time. I groped in my jacket for it and the little tissue bundle fell to the ground.

“Hello?” I leaned over to retrieve my little evidence packet and jammed it back into the pocket.

“Hi, hon, how are things?” Drake’s voice came through a little too loudly. “Can you hear me okay?”

“Yes, fine. In fact, a bit loud.”

“Sorry, is that better?” he said at normal volume. “I wasn’t sure what kind of signal we’d get out here.”

“You’re at the rig?”

“Yeah. Mechanic’s got the fuel line fixed. He’s checking over the rest of the ship now.”

“So you need me out there soon?”

“Not real soon. Couple hours maybe.”

I shoved my sleeve up to look at my watch. That would also be about the time the Dunbars would be waiting at home for the noon call. I told him.

“Let’s play it by ear,” he said. “Somehow I need to get both ships off this rig before tonight.”

Now what, I thought as we hung up. I saw myself being pulled in two directions. Sarah had already told me Robert expected me to go along when the ransom call came, help make the delivery and get Richie back safely. I thought about making one more plea with them to get the authorities to handle this, but knew it was probably futile. And Drake couldn’t very well pilot two helicopters at once. My duty was to him and I’d have to tell the Dunbars so.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to prove quite so simple.

Robert and Edward were just pulling up in the Bentley when I rounded the corner of the castle. I walked over to the driver’s door.

“Did everything go all right at the bank?”

Edward stepped out the passenger door and pulled a large valise from the back seat. He leaned vaguely sideways to counterbalance the weight of it as he carried it to the front door.

“Just as they asked. ₤50,000. Didn’t say if they wanted small bills, but I got them anyway.” Robert puffed a little as he slid out of the big old luxury car. “Banker raised a bit of an eyebrow. Man’s known me forty years. Was thinking he’d never seen me do anything like this before, I know he was.”

“Do you think he’ll report it to the authorities?” I asked.

“No. Doubt it.” A tiny crease divided his forehead. “Don’t care anyway. Another couple of hours and we’ll have Richie back. It’ll all be over with.”

I hoped so, but didn’t quite feel his optimism. There were still a lot of things that could go wrong.

Robert and I walked together into the castle, where I noticed that Edward had casually dropped the valise in the entryway, the same way he’d done with his travel bag the other day. Robert hung his jacket on a peg, but I opted to keep mine on. Voices came from the kitchen and we followed them.

Edward and Elizabeth stood on opposite sides of the butcher-block island and the air between them was thick with electricity. I took in the scene and knew we’d interrupted some kind of heated exchange.

“Where’s Sarah?” Robert asked, not noticing his daughter’s flushed face.

Elizabeth turned away, facing the sink now. “Dressing. She should be down in a few minutes.”

Three of us looked at a large clock that hung above the built-in china hutch. Three minutes to eleven. I might as well broach the subject none of them wanted to hear.

“Robert,” I said, “depending on when the phone call comes and what the instructions are, I may not be able to go with you.”

“Nonsense, Charlie. We need you.”

As if everything in the whole world revolved around them. I felt my blood pressure rising. I jammed my hands into my jacket pockets so my balled-up fists wouldn’t be obvious.

“My hus—” I swallowed and forced my voice a few notes lower. “My husband also needs me. There are two helicopters and potentially several lives at stake out there, too.” Stay calm, Charlie. “I’ve repeatedly suggested that you let the police handle this situation with Richie, but no one will listen. If Drake calls, I have to go.”

My self-coaching wasn’t working. Becoming hotter by the minute, I walked out. I brushed past Alasdair and Lewis in the corridor, their eyes wide and scared, and headed for the front door.

Outside on the stone steps, I paused and took a deep breath. Why was I letting this affect me so? I knew these people were completely self-centered. They would obviously expect everyone else to put their own lives on hold as long as there was a family crisis here.

But that’s just it, Charlie. It
is
a crisis. Richie’s gone. We don’t know where or who he’s with or how desperate those people might be. I ran each point of logic through my head.

On the other hand, Drake’s situation could easily become a crisis, too. If those men on the rig were intent on getting rid of the helicopter operators it wouldn’t take much. The aircraft looked large and whirling and deadly in motion, but they were quite fragile when it came to their hundreds of moving parts. A simple act of sabotage could send a million-dollar aircraft and as many as six lives into the sea. I sank to one of the stone benches that flanked either side of the door, unmindful of the moisture soaking into my jeans, and propped my forehead in my hands.

The sun was beginning to show and I let it warm my back.

“Charlie?” Robert’s voice sounded subdued as he sank down on the bench beside me. “I’ll apologize if I sounded abrupt in there. Didn’t realize you had so much on your mind right now.”

“It’s okay. I hadn’t told you about the problems we’ve faced trying to keep Brian Swinney’s helicopter business going out there.” I recapped a couple of the incidents where the union boat operators had openly opposed us. “Your family has enough to think about at the moment.”

“Wish there were something I could do,” he said.

“Well, if you mean pulling some strings in Parliament, I guess you could vote for Brian’s mother to get well so he’d come back and run his own business. I’d sure rather be sightseeing and I know Drake wouldn’t mind hitting a couple of those distillery tours.” I worked up a smile. “Otherwise, I guess we just wait and see how everything plays out.”

He patted my knee in a fatherly way. “It will, I’m afraid,” he said, his mouth grim. “It will.”

He stood and walked toward the Bentley, hands jammed in pockets, head bent. I kept my seat on the bench until he rounded the corner of the castle, then decided I better do something. Waiting isn’t one of my stronger suits. Here I was, in the midst of two serious situations, unable to do anything about either one until a call came.

I paced the length of the castle twice, then spotted Sarah’s rock garden on the other side of about two acres of lawn. I headed for that, thinking the extra walk would burn off some of my nervous energy. The tranquil spot should have calmed my nerves but I couldn’t seem to make it happen. I climbed a narrow, winding path created to lead to the top of a small waterfall, which cascaded softly over a series of dark rocks to a serene pond below. Lily pads dotted the dark water and I half expected to see a tiny frog leap onto one and begin croaking out a little tune.

At the top of the rock outcropping I noticed an area where the tall grass lay flattened in a circular spot about a foot in diameter, the way a wild animal will leave an indent where it has slept. Odd. Other than squirrels, rabbits, and pheasant, I hadn’t heard anyone mention many wild animals here on this part of the grounds. A larger animal, like a deer or elk, would leave a much bigger print anyway. A human butt had probably made this. I wondered for a moment if this was a spot Sarah would have come to sit. Undoubtedly it was, except that this very place didn’t offer any particular amenities. The ground was too rocky for comfort and the jutting rocks hid views of either the castle or the pond below. A flash of blue caught my eye. A candy wrapper. That pretty well confirmed that Sarah wasn’t the person who’d sat here. So, who was?

I crouched on the matted grass for a moment. I could see the castle’s turrets clearly, and a short stretch of the lane leading in and out. By rising to my knees and peering around the rocks, I could observe the parking area and the main door. Someone who wanted to spy on comings and goings at the castle could easily do it from here without being seen. My thoughts leapt to Ian Brodie.