Too Soon a Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 2 (29 page)

If challenged, she couldn’t have explained her reluctance to tell the police about the Fiesta nearly running her over, but she also knew she mustn’t put it off any longer. When they got back from their walk, she’d definitely text Mather or Trent. The police could do nothing because she still hadn’t managed to memorise more of the car’s registration than its first letter, but if anything bad happened to her, at least they’d have some clues as to who they were looking for. With this happy thought, she fastened Mac into his car harness and allowed herself to become distracted by the idea that in a few weeks’ time she would be doing almost the same thing with a baby. She’d need a car seat: yet another big-ticket item to research and order.

They took the road east, as though travelling to Berwick-upon-Tweed, but soon went left onto a narrow lane Zoe had passed many times but never driven down. She had no idea if it led to the landmark she was aiming for, but they had plenty of time and a large bottle of water, so it would be interesting to find out. Although their destination quickly came into sight, reaching it seemed to take an age, as the lane zigzagged erratically, following the contours of the fields it served. At one point, she could see Westerlea again. They hadn’t travelled far.

After parking the Jeep on the verge to allow other vehicles room to pass, she got out and looked across at the field opposite. When she’d mentioned taking this excursion weeks ago, Kate warned her she might not be able to walk across the field if the grass hadn’t yet been cut, but several large stacks of bales told her it had. And at the rear of the field was the building Zoe had come to see.

She stood admiring the stone dovecote which, according to Historic Scotland’s website, dated back to the mid-eighteenth century. A cylindrical tower topped with a conical roof, it also had a wooden door which stood partly open. If that wasn’t an invitation to explore, what was?

She let Mac run free as they walked across the grass field until he’d twice chased after hares, only returning after she nearly shouted herself hoarse. He wasn’t happy to be constrained; the closer they got to the dovecote, the more he tugged on his lead and growled.

‘I don’t know what’s got into you these days,’ Zoe said, pulling him up short once again before letting him walk on, as she’d learnt in their dog obedience class. She stopped a few metres away from the dovecote to appreciate the stonework. It looked in far better condition than she would have expected for something built so long ago to stand in a field. Above the bleached wood of the door—which could surely not be original—was what looked like a picture frame made out of carved stone. She wondered if this had once held some sort of plaque, perhaps attesting to who had owned the dovecote or the exact date it was built.

She jerked on Mac’s lead but now he refused to move. ‘Come on, we’re just going to take a quick peek inside.’ After being fed a biscuit, the dog reluctantly allowed himself to be led towards the dovecot.

Several pigeons suddenly flew out of the roof, making them both jump. Zoe took a deep breath and dragged Mac the final couple of metres to the door which hung ajar, one of its hinges broken. She squeezed inside.

Temporarily blinded by moving out of bright sunlight into gloom, she heard the snarl before she could see anything.

THIRTY-FIVE

The animal snarled again, took a step towards Zoe, then evidently thought better of leaving its feast unattended and returned to the hare’s carcase. Rooted to the spot less than six feet away, Zoe stared at the dog which had chased Mac into the field of rape. As her eyes adjusted to the murky interior of the dovecote, she took in the stringy mixture of drool and blood dripping from its jaw, the scars along its body and the ragged-edged ear.

Mac whined. The other dog raised its head again.

Not much remained of the hare.

Silently telling herself to stay calm, Zoe stepped backwards, all the time watching the dog. As soon as she felt the heat of the sun on her back, she spun round, gathered up Mac’s lead and started to run—as well as a heavily pregnant woman can run—back towards the Jeep. As luck had it, the ground was firm and flat, and she’d worn lightweight trainers rather than cumbersome boots today. She allowed herself to glance back once and saw no sign of the dog, but this was almost her undoing. The dip in the ground had been deep enough to trip her up if she hadn’t spotted it seconds before she ran into it. With visions of falling down, an ankle broken and goodness knows what harm done to the baby, she slowed her pace.

They had both scrambled into the Jeep and Zoe had locked the doors before she looked again towards the dovecote. The lure of the dead hare had been so great that the dog was only now slinking out into the sunshine, where it raised its head to sniff the air and loped off across the field towards a densely wooded area. She sighed with relief but continued to watch until the dog disappeared among the trees before allowing herself to lean back, heart still thumping, and reach for the bottle of water. Her hand shook as she unscrewed the top. After drinking her fill, she poured some into the plastic bowl which currently lived in the Jeep and Mac lapped it up.

Back at Keeper’s Cottage, she couldn’t stop thinking about the dog, while at the same time wondering why it had disturbed her so much, given what else was going on in her life. Unable to settle, she fetched the tatty ordnance survey map which had been left in the cottage by an earlier occupant. Several of its folds were torn, so she spread it out carefully on the kitchen table and traced with her finger the route she and Mac had taken that morning. Eventually, she found a small circle which must be the dovecote, enabling her to determine the direction in which the dog had run off. With rising excitement she saw the patch of woodland it had gone into was marked on the map as having a track running through it. And that track led to a sizeable, unnamed building. The dog had to belong to someone, even if they weren’t looking after it properly. Could this be where it lived when it wasn’t out hunting for food?

Her first thought was to contact one of Kate’s brothers, because the Mackenzies had an interest in tracing whoever was allowing their dogs to roam and attack livestock. However, the family was still dealing with the aftermath of the fire, looking after Kate’s children and sorting out what was to happen to Tolbyres Cottage. Also, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to see the situation addressed with a shotgun.

She decided to phone Patrick.

‘In my experience, people who keep vicious dogs often turn out to be of a similar nature,’ he said. ‘Have you considered telling the police?’

‘They’ve got more serious stuff to deal with, like tracking down whoever killed the boy found near the Chain Bridge. What if I’m wrong? I just want to check out the house on the map. The dog may not have even gone there.’

Patrick sighed. ‘If I don’t come with you, you’ll do it anyway, won’t you?’

‘You didn’t see the dog. It looked half-starved. Who knows what it’ll attack next. I don’t feel happy walking Mac, knowing it’s still going about.’

‘Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll come over after lunch.’

Zoe opened the fridge and saw a block of cheese and the eggs Etta had sent over. ‘I can get us a bite to eat, if you like.’

‘Thanks, but I need to see someone first. I can be with you by two.’

A few minutes later, Zoe was whisking up some of the eggs to make an omelette when her mobile rang. It was her father. Once they had exchanged greetings, she asked, ‘How is everyone after yesterday?’

‘Nina’s a bit weepy. I don’t think she’d truly accepted her mother was gone until now. And Ewan’s . . . still being Ewan. He didn’t even wait till our guests had all gone before dashing away to his friend’s house. Texted me to say he was staying over. He’s not back yet.’

‘Are you sure his friend isn’t a girl? It would explain why he spends so much time there. He
is
sixteen.’

‘That hadn’t occurred to me, but you could be right.’

‘And what about you, Andrew? How are you bearing up?’

‘Yesterday was hard but comforting as well, if that makes sense.’

‘It does.’

‘So many people turned up. Helen’s agent and the woman who used to be her editor came together all the way from London.’ Andrew’s voice still sounded flat, as though he was reporting on matters which didn’t concern him, but Zoe recognised this as an attempt to bottle up his own grief, to hide it away like a guilty secret. ‘We shared lots of stories about her. I can remember hearing people laugh once we were back at the house and thinking Helen would have so liked to have been there. Silly, really.’

‘Not at all.’

‘I was actually phoning to see how you were, Zoe. And to ask you an important question.’

‘Ask away.’

‘I want to tell Nina and Ewan about you once we’re all three here together with no one else around. Would you mind?’

‘Of course not. But are you sure you don’t want to wait a little longer?’

‘Why? The last few months have been a terrible strain, and not just because of Helen’s illness. I don’t like sneaking around, seeing and speaking to you in secret, not being able to tell people I’m soon to be a grandfather.’

‘You don’t think you’ll be adding to your other children’s grief?’

‘They’ve just lost their mother. Nothing can be worse than that.’

‘It’s your choice. I only have to tell Kate and her mum and it’ll be all over this side of the Borders, so I’ll wait to hear from you before saying anything to them. But promise me one thing.’

‘What?’ Andrew asked.

‘Tell them the absolute truth about when you met Mum, because sooner or later the sequence of events will become clear to them and they’ll hate you for lying.’

‘That’s good advice. Thank you.’

After ending the call, Zoe put her omelette mix into the fridge and cut herself a piece of chocolate cake instead. This time, Mac was at her heels, ready to catch a tiny piece when she threw it to him.

She had just changed into trousers which didn’t fasten properly and the lightest long-sleeved tee-shirt she could find, when Patrick arrived. He looked her up and down. ‘Are you really going to do this?’

‘Oh for goodness’ sake. I’ve got more than a month to go and first babies are always late anyway.’

‘Steady on. I wasn’t referring to you being pregnant. It’s mighty hot out there and you’re after going to search for a dangerous dog.’

Zoe put a hand to her brow. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve dragged you into this, so the least I can do is be polite.’

‘Apology accepted. Do you want to show me where we’re going?’

They went through to the kitchen and she pointed at the map. ‘Here’s the dovecot—’

‘Doocot.’

She nodded. ‘Here’s the
doocot
, that’s the woodland where the dog disappeared, and here’s what looks like a house on the other side of the wood.’

‘I’ve driven past the doocot before, but I had no idea there was a house in there. I wonder who owns it?’

‘Let’s go and find out.’

As they walked into the hall, Patrick said, ‘We’ll take my car. If we find the dog, I may need something out of the boot.’

They retraced the route Zoe had taken earlier in the day, halting at the same field to plan the next stage of their expedition. ‘According to the map,’ Patrick said, ‘we should be able to get into the woods just past the bend up ahead.’

They found the entrance easily, but it was closed off with a gate.

‘Shit.’

Patrick adopted a look of mock horror at Zoe’s language, then laughed. ‘Don’t be downhearted. I’ve not met a gate yet I couldn’t get through.’

He jumped out of his car, crossed to the gate and leaned over the left-hand end of it. Then he pushed it open.

‘See?’ he said, getting back in the car. ‘You give up far too easily.’

Zoe pulled a face at him.

Entering the trees brought a slight relief from the heat of the sun beating down on them. The track meandered and Patrick’s car shuddered as it travelled along deep gouges in what would have been mud a few months ago. At one point it forked off to the left but they continued in the direction shown on the map.

‘What have you done to your arms?’ Patrick asked.

Zoe looked down; she hadn’t realised that in the heat she’d pulled up her sleeves. ‘Had a fight with a rose bush.’

‘Looks like it won. They can be pretty nasty.’

‘Careful of the pheasant ahead. You know how silly they are.’

He slowed the car down and they followed the pheasant for a while as it weaved back and forth, unable to decide where it wanted to go. Shortly after it disappeared from sight, they broke out of the wood into brilliant sunshine. The track stretched ahead of them, intersected about a hundred metres away by another gate, then arched round to the right, coming to an end in front of a large house.

They drove up to the gate and Patrick parked on the grass at the side of track. He got out, but unlike last time, returned shortly afterwards, leaving the gate still closed. He leaned into Zoe’s window. ‘There’s a padlocked chain which I could get through with my bolt cutters. Or should we respect the owners’ obvious wish for privacy?’

‘You carry around bolt cutters in your car?’

‘How else would I disentangle a sheep from a piece of barbed wire fence or get a ring out of a bull’s swollen nose?’

Zoe put a hand to her ear. ‘Listen. If I’m not mistaken, that’s a dog barking.’

‘It’s not coming any closer so it must be tied up,’ Patrick said.

The gate bore a black metal letterbox and an engraved wooden sign which had seen better days announcing the house up ahead was called Oakbank. Zoe stuck her fingers into the letterbox. ‘Empty. I wonder if that means the owner’s at home?’

‘There’s only one way to find out.’ Patrick placed a foot on the gate’s lowest rail.

‘Sorry, but you’ll need to help me.’

He looked along the gate to the wire fence connected to it. ‘Might be easier to get you over that.’

‘It may be lower than this gate but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s got barbed wire along the top. Do you want me to leap it, like a hurdler? Or maybe you’ll stand on one strand and lift another till me and my bump can squeeze through.’