The Presence (15 page)

But she couldn't really believe that. And just as she had felt earlier, a strange calm descended upon her.

“Please believe me, I'm okay. Yes, it was startling. Scary. But now, more than anything, I just think it's very sad,” she told Bruce, looking at him as he drove. He nodded, but his features were still tense. Despite the niggling suspicion of
possibility
that teased at the back of her mind, she found herself admiring the hard, sculpted line of his profile, the determined set of his jaw and the gravity with which he considered the situation. He might have let his castle go to hell, but he had a deep concern for this, his home territory, and a decent and humane care for those found here who had suffered so cruelly.

He was also upset, she thought, because of Jonathan's certainty that they had found Annalise and that she had, indeed, been killed by her husband all those years ago.

In a matter of minutes, they pulled up to the castle.

Gina, Ryan, David and Kevin came bursting out the
front doors. Gina rushed for her first, exclaiming, “Oh, Toni! You poor dear!”

David was behind her, hugging her. “Eban came and told us all about it.”

Ryan brushed back a thick strand of his long brown hair, hovering awkwardly by her side. “We wanted to come to you, but Eban said the authorities were with you and that they wouldn't want anyone traipsing through the woods then. At least, I think that's what he said.”

“Toni, how about a drink?” Kevin suggested. “I think a drink would be the best thing in the world right now.”

Toni took a deep breath, offering a rueful smile and returning the hugs. “Guys! Honestly, I'm fine. Please, I'm not a hothouse flower.”

“Neither am I,” Gina said. “But still, I can't imagine… Bruce, we're so sorry, by the way. Such things are al ways so horrible.”

“Sorry?” he said.

Gina looked awkward, uneasy. “Well…we hadn't realized that the murder victims were discovered right here, in Tillingham, one by you and one by Eban. And though he was relieved that the corpse didn't belong to that missing girl, Eban indicated that the discovery probably means that a sad part of your family legend is true. Either way, we're really sorry. I guess our murder scenes have been in bad taste. And, of course, we will stay out of the forest—as Toni should have done.”

“Aye, everyone needs to stay out of the forest. Except for the police,” Bruce said. “As for my family legend, finding a body doesn't prove how it got there.”

David slipped an arm around Toni's shoulders. “Toni!
Seriously, young lady! What were you doing so deep in the forest? Laird MacNiall told us to stay out of it!”

She inhaled very deeply. She'd be explaining this forever, she thought. “It was a mistake, that's all. A trick of the light. I thought I saw Bruce there, beckoning to me.”

They all stopped, staring at her. “Bruce left very early this morning, Toni,” Gina said, looking at both of them. “I told you that, remember, when we were planning the picnic. You did leave, right, Bruce?”

“Aye.”

“Hey, it's a forest, a trick of the light!” Toni repeated, and headed inside to get away from their questioning stares.

The others followed, automatically heading into the kitchen, where it seemed they always gathered. Kevin immediately went about preparing drinks. “This is one of those occasions that calls for tea and whiskey,” he said, as the rest of them took a seat around the table.

“Thayer hasn't come back yet?” Toni said, suddenly noticing that her cousin was absent.

“No, he's still off,” Gina said.

“He's got his cell, so we could call him,” David said. “But we thought we'd let him finish out his afternoon before telling him about…this.”

She realized then that the group was once again nervous about Bruce, and the ramifications of what had happened that afternoon. He had been concerned about their show, and the fact that very real murders were occurring, but he had allowed them to stay so they could make some of the money they had poured into the place. Now it seemed that they had found Annalise.

Bruce, too, realized what was weighing on their
minds. And he wasn't the type to keep anyone in suspense. “You can continue your tours,” he said, eyeing them all one by one. “But no one strangles anyone, is that clear?” He stared at Toni. “There will have to be a new spin on your ‘history.' Figure it out, and all will be well.”

Gina cleared her throat. “Bruce, do you think that the bones Toni found could have belonged to Mac Niall's wife?”

Bruce sighed. “The bones may prove to be Annalise, and they may not. My ancestor may have killed her in a fit of rage, and he may not have done so. I hate assumptions, that's all. And while the tests and research are going on, I'd just as soon not capitalize on the sensationalism, even if we are trying to make some of your money back.”

A collective sigh could be heard around the table.

“Thank you,” Ryan said simply.

Bruce nodded, then he finished his drink in a long swallow and rose. “Gina, when you have a chance, get all your documents together. I've a friend coming who is with the force in Edinburgh. I'd like him to see them. Naturally, his office and his resources are better equipped to deal with an international fraud situation than the department here.”

“Yes, of course,” Gina said. She, too, hopped up.

“We can hold dinner for your friend,” Kevin said. He was of the firm belief that a good meal, served well, could help solve all problems.

Even Bruce quirked a smile at that. “We'll see if he can stay,” he told them. “And now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my room if you need me.”

When he departed, they all talked at once.

“Thank God!” Gina breathed.

“He really is a great fellow,” David said.

“You poor thing!” Kevin said, shaking his head sympathetically at Toni. “It's so terrible, what happened to her. It was chance that you found her, certainly.”

“Toni, are you all right with all this, after…?” Ryan asked.

Toni rose, feeling the weight of having gone through the forest, the bits of mud that had stuck to her that she hadn't noticed before. The tea and whiskey had been good, but more than anything, she wanted a bath.

“Guys, I'm fine. Thank you all for being so caring. But I've really got to clean up! I'll be back down in a bit.”

“And I've got to get back out and see to the roan!” Ryan said. He shook his head. “I don't know what on earth could have made old Wallace so ill!”

Toni paused. She had forgotten about Eban telling her that the horse was doing poorly. “The vet came out?”

Ryan nodded. “When we came back from our picnic, he was here. He's doused the fellow, but he seemed a little confused himself. Said it must be something the horse ate. But Wallace is in there with Bruce's stallion, and Shaunessy is doing just fine. I only bought the best—you know how I feel about horses.”

The roan had been another investment, but of course, he was much more. And although she hadn't Ryan's expertise or knowledge, she had been the one to choose the horse with him. Ryan had looked for all the good points in a horse, for what they needed—a docile nature being among them—whereas she had simply liked the roan because he had liked her and he loved to have his nose stroked. Besides that, his name had been Wallace,
which was wonderfully historical for their venture. He'd seemed like an omen of good fortune.

“I'll go out and see him later, too,” she said, feeling troubled.

“The vet is excellent, at least,” Ryan said. “I guess out here they have to be top-notch, since folks depend on their livestock.”

“That's good to hear,” Toni murmured. “I'll be back down soon.” And she left them, hurrying up to her room.

The door to the bath was closed. She knocked gently on it, but there was no answer, so she opened the door. Glancing across, she saw that the door to Bruce's room was closed, as well. Not locked, but closed.

She made the conscious decision not to lock it as she poured herself a hot bath.

Stripping off the clothes she had been wearing, she knew that she was never going to wear them again. Leaving them beneath the sink, she added bubble bath to the tub and climbed in.

Grateful that no one else had taken a shower or bath lately—and used up the hot-water supply—she sank back and let the heat soak into her. She hadn't realized just how damp and cold she'd felt. The water was good. The steam rising around her seemed to permeate the icy feeling in her bones.

She closed her eyes, resting her head on the rear of the tub, and before long she was back in the woods.

She saw again the man beckoning to her, saw the bubbling water, the tiny whitecaps formed when it struck upon the rocks. Then she saw herself coming upon the branch again, lifting it. Tension gripped her, but she couldn't escape the image she was suddenly
seeing. For it wasn't that of ancient bones, the remains of a centuries-old crime.

She pictured a different body. Complete, intact. The body of a young woman, naked, facedown in the mud and water, hair encrusted with the black muck, tendrils of it betraying that once it had been blond and long.

She pictured herself turning the body, seeing the face. Pictured the eyes looking up at her, glazed with horror. And she wanted desperately to escape the grasp of the vision, but she could not.

Suddenly Toni had an image of the girl that haunted her as she had been in life, standing on a street corner in Edinburgh. She vaguely recognized the locality, not on the Royal Mile, but a street that was off the main drag, very dark, shadowy, the lights flickering. From somewhere she could hear the sound of music, muted as it came from a pub. There was also the sound of laughter, voices, distant, as well, merrymakers drinking quite a bit. She could see the girl's face, the eyes, and almost enter her mind.

 

Money. She needed money. And standing on the street corner, she wondered if she should go back in the pub and seek out a man there…except that she had been in the pub already and had seen no familiar faces. And no prospects. She had chosen a working man's place that night, and the fellows had all been the kind down with the economy. So she had come to the street. She had to be careful, of course—she didn't want to advertise to any of the bobbies who might be cruising about—but she also had to stand in such a way that the right fellow would know…

She was dressed in a plaid miniskirt to show off her
legs, which she knew were very good. And her blouse wasn't ridiculously low-cut, but low-cut enough.

She hesitated, wondering if she had chosen the right street corner. For a moment, a brief moment, she wondered what she was doing. How on earth had she chosen this way of life? Then she knew. She hadn't really chosen this life. She had just known that she had to get out of the life she would have lived, scrubbing floors, working in a factory or serving burgers in a fast-food dive. She had no real education, and she would have married some fellow who would also take a menial job. She would have had a dozen children and lived in poverty.

She still believed that with a little more money—and learning to stay out of the pubs!—she could make it down to London. And once there…well, something would work out.

She shouldn't be doing this, but she didn't have a whole lot of options. Besides, she had learned…even with an ugly, smelling, fat old fellow, all she had to do was close her eyes, get it over with. Then it was done. And she had learned how to forget.

Maybe tonight she could find one who wasn't quite so fat, so gross, a fellow who didn't smell of stale whiskey, or worse yet, sheep.

Maybe there would be no one….

She heard the car before she saw it. It drew up next to her. She bent down, looking into the window and her heart soared. He was really quite a handsome brute. Great smile.

She climbed into the car.

 

“Toni!”

Her eyes flew open. She jerked up. All images faded
in a snap, as if they had never been. Only a whisper of unease remained with her, a slight trickle of fear.

Bruce MacNiall was just inside the doorway, a deep frown creasing his forehead. She stared at him, aware that the bubbles around her were dying and totally heedless of the fact.

She had consciously made the decision to leave the door open. At the moment, though, she barely remembered that as she tried to recall what she had seen in her mind's eye.

She had clearly seen the girl's face, her eyes, with far too much detail! And she had felt things for another, stepped into a different life.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude,” Bruce said, his voice deep. “I was afraid you were drowning in here.”

She was suddenly so glad of his appearance that she could hardly bear it. She scrambled to her feet, almost tripping in her haste to leave the tub, startling him when she flew, soaking, into his arms.

“Hey!” he said, very softly and apparently heedless of the water that soaked from her naked body onto him. His arms wrapped around her for a moment, giving her all the warmth, security and live, vital reality that she so desperately needed. Then he drew back slightly, lifting her chin.

“I thought that you were all right?” he queried gently.

“I am,” she said, and she was. At that moment, in his arms, she was fine. When he held her close, she was not afraid. She did not become blind to her visions, nor did she forget them. But she felt a sense of well-being. And more. Suddenly, despite what she had seen—or perhaps because of it—she wanted to feel all the heat and
eroticism promised in the electricity that burned between them every time they spoke, every time they touched.

He arched a brow, then said, “If you're afraid, Toni, I'm pleased to protect you, to offer whatever company you may need. But don't come to me in such a way unless it's what you really want.”