Competition Can Be Murder (21 page)

“Oh, Charlie, that’s so nice of you! But I guess we’re fine now. You won’t have to worry yourself with it.”

She gushed a little more about my being such a good friend, while I felt like a rat for sneaking around gathering evidence against her husband. We hung up with vague talk of shopping or a movie together sometime.

I sank into one of the library’s cushy chairs. Was Ian really out tending the sheep in the dark? Or was he more likely driving down the Loch Ness Trail to meet Robert and collect ₤50,000? And what about Richie—where had he been all this time?

Voices nearby indicated that the family had finished their dinner and were beginning to gather in the drawing room, next to the library. It was a little after eight. How many more hours would we have to wait for news? I stretched and wished for Drake. Maybe, even if someone were watching the place, it would be okay for one car to leave—mine. Maybe I should feel like a selfish shit for thinking of myself instead of worrying myself sick over Richie’s safety. Somehow, from the tone of the ransom notes, I had the feeling that this whole thing was more about the money than it was about harming the boy. I hoped I was right.

I strolled toward the drawing room, where at least the smell of coffee held some appeal. Sarah held a tray full of ornate silver services pieces, while Molly stood slightly behind her, bearing another with cups and saucers.

“Push those magazines aside, will you?” Sarah asked the room at large.

I reached forward at the same moment Elizabeth did. We cleared a spot and Sarah proceeded to pour and distribute cups.

“So, nothing new?” I asked, settling onto a large ottoman with my cream-laced coffee.

“Not a word.” Sarah’s face was losing some of its perpetual good cheer. She looked tired.

Edward and Elizabeth were barely speaking, and the two boys had disappeared again. I was just thinking what a dismal group we were when the phone rang. Cups rattled, then heads swiveled until Sarah discovered where the phone had been left. She picked it up cautiously.

“Robert!” She released breath she must have been holding for fifteen minutes. “Do you have Richie?”

We all held our breaths, watching for a signal, a word.

“Oh.” When it came, the word didn’t sound positive. Sarah’s normally cheery face drooped. “Here, love, tell Charlie.” She handed the receiver to me.

“Robert? What’s happening?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m back in town. Couldn’t get a cell signal out there. Too many hills around the loch, I guess. Thought I’d better call in case you’ve heard anything.”

“No, not a thing. We’re sitting here alternating between boredom and worry, wondering how it’s been going with you.”

“I put the money in the waste bin, as the instructions said. I went to the next turnout and Richie wasn’t there. Waited a half hour. Searched a bit in the woods around but it’s pretty dark. Moonlight doesn’t make it through those trees very well. And I bloody well forgot to bring a torch with me.” He took a noisy breath. “Only traffic out here all night’s been two or three cars that whizzed right by.”

“So, you’ve decided to come back?”

“Don’t know what to do. Expect I better go back to the first turnout and collect the money. Someone’ll be along by morning if I don’t.”

“Let me think about this,” I said. If Robert’s cell phone had been out of range, what if the kidnappers had tried to reach him and couldn’t? That didn’t make sense; we would have received another call here.

“Is the money sack still in the trash can?” I asked.

“Was ten minutes ago when I went by there. First thing I checked, by God.”

“I don’t know, Robert. It sounds like, for some reason, they just aren’t going to make the rendezvous. What do you think?”

“Don’t know. Just can’t give up on Richie, though, poor lad. Cold, scared, I know he is.”

“Maybe I can come out there and help you watch. Let’s do this,” I said. “You go back to the money drop and make sure it’s there. Be visible, pace around, look perplexed.”

“That won’t be so difficult,” he said.

“I’ll leave here. If someone’s watching the house, that won’t look too odd. I’ll pretend to go home, but I’ll take a roundabout route and come down there. Once you see my car, you go down to the place where they said they’d leave Richie. Let’s see if we can’t get that boy home tonight.”

My little pep talk, along with the hope that we were taking some action, seemed to perk up those in the room as well. I went back to the library and gathered my purse and cell phone. I placed a quick call to Drake and told him what we were doing. He insisted that I pick him up on the way.

Five minutes later, I was walking out the front door of the castle, making a show of thanking Sarah for dinner and telling her to call me at the cottage if she received any news. My eyes strayed to the rock garden as I approached my car, wondering whether a spy lurked there. I couldn’t see anything in the shadows cast by the half moon.

I stopped at the cottage, where I went inside, again making a show of getting out of the car and seeming to be in for the night. Drake and I went around the place, turning on the bedroom lights and turning off the ones downstairs. We brought two flashlights and warm jackets. Careful not to make noise as we left the cottage, we tiptoed out to the car and kept the headlights off until we were ready to pull out of our lane onto the main blacktop. I could only hope that the kidnappers didn’t have enough manpower to watch everyplace at once.

Traffic was light through Inverness. I drove and Drake brought out the map, finding us a way that would take us through a myriad of residential streets before catching B862 again. It was after nine-thirty by the time we hit the Loch Ness Trail. Thick forest lined both sides of the road. I watched the odometer and slowed slightly as we approached the first turnout.

Robert’s dark Land Rover sat there in the small space. He stood beside it, anxiously smoking a cigarette. He tossed it on the ground and stepped on it as I passed. That was the signal that he knew it was me.

“What’s going on?” Drake asked in a muffled voice. We’d agreed that he would ride ducked out of sight as soon as we began to approach this point.

“We just passed Robert,” I told him. “Our spot should be coming up soon.”

Robert had told me that he’d noticed another turnout, larger than most, on the right side of the road. It would be just right for our needs. I found it, about a quarter mile beyond the money-drop site, but still well away from Robert’s post where he should be picking up Richie. I pulled into the turnout and nosed the Vector into the brush as far as I dared. With the curve in the road, oncoming drivers shouldn’t notice it. Even if someone got suspicious, they’d find out the car was a rental and would think some dumb tourists were out looking for Nessie.

“Okay, we’re ready,” I told Drake.

We zipped into our warm jackets and each grabbed a flashlight. Between the thick trees we caught occasional glimpses of the lake with silver moonlight glinting off its surface. We crossed the one-lane blacktopped road and ducked into the woods on the other side. A vehicle approached and we squatted behind a rock. Robert’s Range Rover sped past.

Once we were safely out of view of any potential traffic, we switched on our lights and headed into the forest. We stayed parallel to the road as well as possible through the thick growth and jutting boulders. It was impossible to be completely quiet—twigs snapped and branches brushed against us, dampening our jackets with dew. In about ten minutes I spotted the smooth ground of the turnout and caught the gleam of moonlight off the edges of the metal waste bin there.

I signaled Drake to slow up. We shone our lights around the area, looking for trampled grass, broken branches, or other signs of human occupancy. No one had been there.

“Now what?” I whispered. “I just knew someone would have been watching this spot, waiting for us to screw up with the money drop or something.”

“Hard to figure why they’d go to all this trouble, the notes and calls and all, and then not show up for their money.”

A car drove slowly by and we ducked. It didn’t pause at our location, nor did the driver look our direction. I held my breath until its engine noise faded into the distance.

“Maybe it’s got something to do with the witching hour of midnight,” Drake suggested. “It’s not quite eleven. Better get comfortable.”

We found a spot where the ground wasn’t as rocky and a cushion of leaves added some extra padding. Switching off the flashlights, we settled in. In a whispered voice, I told Drake about my calls to the hospital in Aberdeen and to Ramona.

“Don’t you find it odd that Ian would come home after several days’ absence and go out to his pastures after dark?” I asked.

“Well, I know when I’m away from you, outside is the last place I’d want to spend my first night back home.” He reached out and squeezed my hand.

“Yeah, exactly. Ian and Ramona are young. They should still have the hots for each other. But she didn’t even seem that upset by his being out.” I sighed. “I don’t know, just seems weird to me.”

“So you think Ian could be the kidnapper?” he asked.

“He’s certainly angry toward Robert Dunbar because of his position in Parliament. I heard him ranting on that subject several times. The Dunbars haven’t shared anything else with me that leads me to any other enemies, and they’ve certainly been adamant about not bringing the police into this. Doesn’t that seem strange? A man whose job involves the law, and he doesn’t want to turn to them for help?”

“So what else have you turned up that might be leads?”

“Well, certainly nothing of use at the club where the kids went. The owners of the place don’t remember Richie. The place was full of kids and he was just one of many. They said there wasn’t any scuffle or violence that night. So if Richie left from the dance floor, he went without a struggle. For all we know, he might have walked down to his car for something and been accosted along the way. Here’s where the police would have the manpower to canvass the entire neighborhood and track down a lot of the kids from the club. I just can’t be everywhere.”

A sudden wave of helplessness washed over me. My throat tightened. What was I doing here anyway?

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Otherwise, the leads are few. Janie, the girlfriend, hasn’t seen him. She’s scared to death of what her father’s going to do when he finds out she’s pregnant, and she wants Richie back more than anyone at this point.”

The sound of a car engine broke the night but it rushed right past. No hesitation whatsoever.

“Ian seems to be our best bet on both motive and means. Someone’s been keeping a close watch on that household and he’s certainly able to do that.”

Something skittered through the leaves behind me and I jumped.

“Just a squirrel or something,” Drake said. He put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him. “Hey, we could make out in the bushes,” he teased.

“Yeah, and get caught with our pants down. Whoever’s coming will surely do it at the least opportune moment.”

“Wish I had night vision binoculars,” he said. “Bet you I’d spot Nessie out there.”

“You don’t really believe in that monster stuff, do you?”

“No, but I’ll bet you do. I’ll bet you’re keeping your eyes right on that open space in the trees right there. I’ll bet you’re just waiting for something dark and slimy to . . .”

“Drake! Stop it! It’s creepy enough out here without your helping matters.”

He slid his fingertips slowly from my shoulder to my neck, walking them underneath my hair and up my scalp. I reached for his ribs, the one ticklish spot on his body, and in seconds we were rolling on the ground.

“Shh! What was that?” His whisper stopped me cold.

I sat up and stared into the night, all senses on alert.

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything.” I barely breathed the words out, trying for absolute silence.

“Neither did I, but I got you to quit tickling me,” he whispered, absolutely serious.

“Oh, you! For that—” I reached again for his ribs.

Headlights rounded the curve suddenly and silenced us both. We dropped to the ground and watched as the car slowed, swerving erratically. Thumping, boombox music surrounded the vehicle and shrieks of teenage-girl laughter reached us as the driver regained control and they zoomed past.

Drake and I lapsed into silence. Enough excitement for one evening, I thought. I just want to go home and climb into our nice warm bed. He pressed the button on his watch and the dial lit up.

“Just now midnight,” he announced.

“I wonder how much longer we should stay.”

The early morning and very full day were beginning to tell. We huddled again and I felt myself becoming drowsy, despite the dampness creeping through the seat of my jeans. The moon reached its zenith. My eyelids drooped. No more than a few minutes passed, surely, but I snapped awake with Drake shaking me.

“Car!” he whispered. “It’s pulling in.”

My eyes flew open just in time to flinch against bright headlights. Drake pulled me down flat against the ground. Gigantic tires scrunched through the gravel, not twenty feet from my face. The engine stopped and the lights went out.