Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (26 page)

He watched the couple cling
to one another. Unwittingly, he tapped into their roiling emotions
and found himself sinking deeper into a morass of desolation. Of
the two, Lachlan was the most stricken. Beth's concern was more for
him, her fate at Viola Cooke's hand a far lesser evil than
Lachlan's guilt at misjudging the eventual cause of her
death.

They were a remarkable
pair, Winston told himself. He couldn't imagine them not being
together, any more than he could imagine a future without
Deliah.

He drew in a deep
fortifying breath, and said, "Stratton and Cooke were third
cousins. She threatened to implicate him in the murder if he told
anyone. He's a bit o' a mouse, this Stratton, and we all now know
how aggressive was the prim Miss Cooke.

"Anyway, he went along wi'
her scheme to bury the body—sorry, Beth," he added with an
apologetic yet wan grin when she turned her watery eyes on him. "It
isn't easy talking abou' this."

A hint of a smile appeared
on her mouth. "I know, Winston. Viola was a cunning, warped woman."
She peered into Lachlan's face. "But I guess I can understand her
obsession. Lachlan, she was determined to have you."

She stood on tiptoe and
kissed him tentatively on the lips, and brushed her brow against
his chin. "You're not responsible for her madness. You brought me
here because you loved me." She smiled in earnest as she met his
teary gaze. "Had I not come here, I wouldn't have met you and we
wouldn't have the twins. I was a miserable, lonely woman in the
States. If I don't regret what brought me to this point in my life,
you sure as hell better not."

"Ma Beth," he choked. He
snuggled her tighter within the powerful bands of his arms and
nestled a cheek against the top of her head. "I dinna deserve
you."

"I know." She sighed and
released what sounded like a chuckle.

"The good news is," said
Winston, hoping his cheery tone would help to lift their spirits,
"Beth's trust fund and home should be intact."

The couple's eyes turned to
him. Beth was elated. Winston could hear her mind churning with
possibilities. But although Lachlan put on an admirable front, his
apprehension about leaving Scotland wafted off him in waves Winston
easily absorbed.

"Lachlan," Beth said
excitedly, "we could go to my home in the States until all this
nonsense with the press calms down."

A strained smile ticked
along his mouth as he nodded. "Aye. Twould probably be
best."

Beth's face clouded
thoughtfully and she turned to Winston. "He doesn't have any
identification, though."

"It's in the
works."

"How? He'll need a
passport."

"I purchased a camera this
morn to take his photograph. I also called a man I know in Ayr. He
worked for the Shields Agency but was forced to retire five years
ago. One o’ his many talents is an ability to create worldwide
legal documentation. He's done quite a bit o' work wi' the Witness
Protection Program in the States, in relocating persons ou' o' tha'
country. When I told him abou' your predicament—"

"The truth o' it?" Lachlan
gasped.

Winston grinned. "He's an
ardent fan o' yours. He was in the hospital for a week last
Christmas and was unable to attend your..." He made quotation marks
in the air. "...'miracle' Christmas, but he has toured your home
whenever possible over the years. He said you once complimented him
on his mustache."

A knowing grin appeared on
Lachlan's face. "Is this mon short and round, wi' white
hair?"

"That's him."

Lachlan laughed then said
to Beth, "Fegs, lass, the ends o' this mon's mustache went past his
collar bones, no' a hair ou' o' place. I dinna usually speak to the
people on the tours, just maistly moaned a wee and flitted in and
ou' o' sight to give them a thrill. But when I saw this mon, I had
to inquire abou' tha' masterpiece on his face." He flashed Winston
a broader grin. "Does he still have it?"

Nodding, Winston said,
"It's his pride and joy."

"And he's willin’ to help
me?"

"Said he was thrilled to
help. He's in Dublin, but has to be in Edinburgh tomorrow for
another client. We've arranged to meet in the morn. I plan to take
Deliah along." He grinned. "On a shopping spree. Tha' should prove
interesting."

"Aye. So this mon...he can
really produce the documents tha' quickly?"

Winston bobbed his head in
admiration of James Grayson and glanced at his watch. "Which
reminds me, I'd better get on the move. I want to leave for
Edinburgh in abou' an hour. Lachlan, do you have the gems you want
me to have appraised?"

"I have some in a pouch in
ma room."

Again, Winston checked his
watch. "I'll have to take several Polaroids o' you, Lachlan, which
means you'll have to borrow two or three shirts from
Roan."

"Wha's wrong wi' ma
own?"

Winston grinned dubiously.
"You need to look like a twentieth century mon."

Releasing a woeful sigh,
Lachlan nodded with blatant reluctance. "I'll do wha'ever I
must."

"Chin up," Beth laughed,
and kissed the cleft in that area. She looked at Winston and asked,
"Is Deliah excited about going to Edinburgh?"

"She's nervous but I think
she'll have fun. Oh, and Lachlan, Reith—"

"Fegs! I forgot to thank
you for takin’ his breakfast to him this morn."

"No problem. We had a nice
chat."

Lachlan grimaced. "Do you
still no' trust him?"

With mocking affront,
Winston placed a hand over his heart. "Far be it for me to doubt
your instincts. He is a likable lad. Almost too polite." He
shrugged. "I just wanted you to know the money you gave him was
well spent. He opted to purchase clothing at the secondhand store
in town."

"Why secondhand?" Lachlan
asked.

"Because, and I quote, 'I
prefer the texture o' tried cloth.' Unquote."

"That's cute ...'tried
cloth'," said Beth. "Actually, I like pre-worn clothes, too.
Especially jeans."

"In ma day—"

Beth placed a forefinger
against Lachlan's lips, silencing him. "I have so much to teach
you," she sighed airily, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And you
have so much to learn."

Lachlan winced. "One day at
a time, lass."

Walking to Lachlan's side,
Winston clapped him on the back. "Ready to smile for the
camera?"

Lachlan wilted with
resignation. "Aye, but as a good friend is fond o' sayin’, damn
me."

For the next hour it was a
scramble to get everything ready for Winston and Deliah's
departure. Begrudgingly, Lachlan suffered through four shirt
changes and listening to the boys howl with laughter at his
attempts to pose with a semblance of dignity for the camera. Beth
and Laura found a calf-length skirt of navy blue and a beige
sweater smaller than the others for Deliah to wear. Footwear wasn't
so easy. In the end, she donned three pairs of thick socks to keep
Laura's boots from flopping on her feet.

Everyone made up a short
list of what they would like Winston to bring back from the city.
Finally, the Audi pulled out of the driveway and out of
sight.

"That was almost
exhausting," Laura commented as she closed the inner
door.

"Can we go out and play?"
asked Kahl. He and his brothers were still wound up, their energy
level at critical mass.

"Stay in the south yard,"
Laura said, issuing them a look that warned they had better obey
this time. "If I see any of you—"

A bloodcurdling scream rent
the air. Everyone in the hall stood frozen with shock until, a
moment later, a higher pitched scream followed.

"Taryn!" Lachlan gasped,
and was the first to run for the stairs. He burst into Taryn's
bedroom, the other adults and the boys at his heels.

Another scream ejected from
the young woman's throat, but it was not the ear-piecing sound that
was responsible for the men and boys' paralysis. It was Taryn,
herself. She stood atop her pillows at the head of the bed, her
eyes wide with horror and gaping at nothingness at the foot of the
bed. Her exercised-firmed body was clad in a red satin cami that
barely covered her large breasts, and a red satin thong that only
just covered her pubic hairs. Unbound, her light brown hair fell
nearly to her waist in soft waves, benefit of the braid she'd worn
for the past two days.

"H-he was here!" she
squealed, her eyes darting from the group back to the foot of the
bed. "The sicko was leering at me!"

Her male audience didn't
respond to her outburst. They were entranced by her lack of
clothing, and her sculptured build. She normally wore clothes that
concealed her figure. Gymnastics and weightlifting were her spare
time activities, and she worked out mornings and nights to keep in
shape. She thought her one flaw was her chest, which was far too
large in her opinion. Her waist was nineteen inches, though, her
rounded hips lean, and her legs and arms muscular.

"Lachlan!" Beth snapped,
forcing his gaping mouth to close by putting the heel of a hand
beneath his chin and giving it a shove upward. His teeth clacked as
his glazed eyes swung to stare at her as if he didn't recognize who
she was.

Her face flushed with
anger, Beth pinched his right cheek and smirked with satisfaction
when he swore in Gaelic. "Pull your eyeballs back in your head,"
she warned, and his face turned crimson with
realization.

To avoid looking at Taryn
again, he turned his back to her.

Roan jerked from his stupor
and hastily said to the boys, "Ou'! You wanted to go ou' and
play—go!"

"What a babe!" Kevin
gushed, his eyes wide with appreciation for the vision atop the
bed. "I want to stay and keep her company."

"Ou'!" Roan fumed, an
outstretched arm pointing to the door.

On the way out of the room,
Kahl winked at Taryn then grumbled, "We never get to have any
fun."

Alby just quietly left, a
bit dazed by all the hoopla. No sooner was he in the hall than Roan
closed the door and returned to stand alongside Laura, whose arms
were folded against her middle, a look of disapproval riveted on
his sister.

"For the love o' God,
Taryn," Roan muttered heatedly, "cover yerself."

Taryn's face was ashen, her
eyes still wide and glassy with fear. After a moment she glanced
down at herself and cast the remaining group an indignant glare.
"Get a life! I wake up to find a freaking ghost drooling at my
bedside, and you're all worried about my state of
dress?"

"I think that red satin has
gone to your brain," Beth said testily.

"You saw him?" Laura asked
Taryn. "Glasses, short hair—"

"Black raincoat," Taryn
completed then jumped down from the bed and stood in front of the
blonde. She ignored Lachlan when he turned, glanced at her, and
grunted before placing his back to her again. "So you saw him,
too?"

Nodding, Laura stated, "I
saw him from the corner of my eye when Roan and I were—" She cut
herself off and cleared her throat. "Let's just say his timing was
lousy."

"Bloody lousy," Roan
grumbled. Stepping to the bed, he pulled off the top quilt and
draped it over his sister's shoulder. She shucked it off, glaring
at him to back off.

"Is she decent yet?"
Lachlan asked.

"I'm always decent!" Taryn
barked.

Dryly, Beth countered,
"That's debatable. Please, put on a robe. At Lachlan's age, I don't
know if his heart can take another shock." She roughly patted him
on the shoulder and added, "Right, Lannie
old
boy?"

"Aye," he said, in a tone
that said he didn't dare contradict her. "But I have a few
questions."

"She can hear just fine,"
Beth fumed.

He sighed, "All
right."

"Dammit," Taryn ground out.
She flipped open one of the suitcases and removed a short red satin
robe. "Satisfied?" she asked Beth with hostility.

Before she could respond,
Lachlan turned. His eyebrows peaked and a lopsided grin twitched at
one corner of his mouth. Beth looked askance at him, but decided
his obvious appreciation of Taryn's build wasn't worth another
comment. She turned her attention to Laura, who was
frowning.

"This man—"

"Beth, he wasn't a man!"
Laura interjected. "He was
translucent."

"I could see the fireplace
through him," Taryn said.

Lachlan and Beth exchanged
a look of concern, which Laura misread as skepticism. "Beth, why
would I make up seeing a ghost?"

Beth started to speak,
faltered then forced the words out. "How could there be another
ghost here? Are you sure you didn't recognize him?"

"No! I've never seen him
before!"

"Taryn, what about you?"
asked Beth.

She stared peevishly at
Beth for a time then shook her head. "No. Look, I was wide awake
and just lying there. Thinking. You know. Debating whether to get
up or not. I closed my eyes for maybe a minute or two. When I
opened them, he was standing at the side of the bed, literally
leering down at me."