Shadows of the Keeper (14 page)

“I’ve been here five days! 
I’m telling you,
no one
has heard of Castle MacLarrin—MacLarrin
period!  Okay, I take that back.  I was directed to a family bearing
the last name, but believe me, dad, they do not own a castle.  They
referred to me as ‘daft’, then, laughing at me, said if I found a castle
displaying their name, to be sure and let them know so they could pack their
belongings and move into their new life of leisure.  I hate these people;
I hate this country. They don’t even drive on the right side of the damn road!”

“You’re making the wrong
contacts.  A castle doesn’t just sit somewhere, no one knowing of its
existence.”

Peter sighed overly loud. 
“Look through your papers again.  Make sure you’ve given me the correct
address because what you
did
give me isn’t showing up on my GPS. 
You sure there wasn’t a phone number?  Who conducts business without a phone
number?”

 
I should kick myself for
having not thought to acquire a copy of those damn papers.  I could read
through them myself
versus standing here like a moron
.

“We’ve discussed this.  A
phone number wasn’t provided, just an email address.  I’ve sent several
inquiries, but keep receiving something from a daemon-mailer stating address
isn’t functioning.”

“Then,
where the hell did you
send Emily
?”

Silence.

“It’s a scam.  Someone wanted
you in Scotland.  Instead, you sent Emily.  No telling where the dunce
ended up.”

“Why would anyone want me in
Scotland,
Peter
?  I don’t know anyone there.”

Another sigh.  “To get you out
of the way,” he articulated.

“You can change your tone,
son.  Now, what the hell would someone need me out of the way for?  I
buy and sell houses.  Occasionally, I luck out and sell commercial real
estate.  So, again, out of the way for what reason?”

Peter raked fingers through his
wavy black hair.  “I don’t know.  I just know don’t know.  Look,
the old woman running this Bed & Breakfast made remarks with possible
merit.  She claims strange stories abound about a mysterious
castle.”  Peter’s voice indicated his contempt.  “It can’t hurt to
look into—“

“What kinds of strange
stories?  This phone call is costing me a fortune—get to the point!”

“Supposedly, thousands of years
ago, some guy turned his back on a woman of great significance.  She was
guardian to secrets that would one day enable her to save humanity. 
Instead, she was murdered, and his clan was cursed with immortality.” 
Peter rolled his eyes and shook his head as if having this conversation in
person with his father and not from the other side of the world, leaning
against his rented BMW.

“He must look a sight.”  Chase
chortled at his own joke.  “Living for a thousand years.”

“Yeah, well, there’s more. The
castle’s shrouded in mists, and exists in another realm.”  Peter
grimaced. 
Unbelievable.  I’m actually repeating this crap
. 
“The woman alleges it’s nestled between these two mega-sized mountains I’m
looking at right now.  No telling what’s really behind this ridiculous
myth, but I’ll drive on up and take a look.”  Peter’s attention fell on
the disconcerting hag.  She didn’t even bother with discretion as she
listened in on his conversation.  Her beady eyes made clear she disapproved
of nonbelief of her statements.  Almost, he told her to get back to her
forever sweeping snow from cobblestone walkways.  Yesterday, she’d dared
recruit him to assist with carrying in wood.  He’d quickly set her
straight.  He was not here to perform manual labor.  He wore
Armani.  He did
not
do service work.  “Look, it’s cold
here.  Not exactly Texas.  Picking up a few sweaters and heading on
up the way the woman suggested.  Several hours ride, and some shit about
where the crow flies, or so I’ve been warned.”’

“What’s the name of ‘em? 
Maybe I can navigate where you’re going on my computer.”

“Beats the hell outa me.”

“Any word about Emily?”

“No one recognizes her photo. 
Hell, that mane of hair alone should jog memories, but, no, so I checked the plane’s
manifest.  Had to lie, said I was sent to investigate her for child
abandonment.  Authorities were quick to jump through hoops then.”

“And?”

“Her name isn’t on there. 
Neither is yours.  No ticket was purchased in your name, your credit
card.  Nada.  And the flight staff lacked any recollection of her.”

“Is this some kind of
joke
?”

Peter winced as several times, his
father beat the phone against something solid.  “I’ll hire Don to
investigate,” Chase said, sounding worn down.  “He slimes around rules. 
If he can’t find her, you can rest assured, it means she’s dead.  I’m
curious about that limo driver last seen with her.  He’s gone too.” 
Chase loudly exhaled and Peter recognized sounds of his father smoking
again.  “None of the staff recall a fill-in for Stuart, hell, even Stuart
looks blankly when we ask where he was that day.  Says he was never gone
and wonders if we’re playing a prank on him.  Did you stop by the car
rental place?  Been in touch with them?  They sure chased down my
insurance.  What about hospitals?  Maybe she’s a Jane Doe.  Damn
it all,
somebody
crashed that car!”

“That’s the other thing—“

“What other thing?!”

“They didn’t know what I was
talking about.  I showed the rental clerk a photo and she still didn’t
know who I was talking about—“

“Maybe you were at the wrong one,
or it was a different shift when Emily—“

“I thought of that.  I’ve
thought of everything you’ve suggested!  If you’d give me a minute, and
remember you didn’t send an amateur to do this . . . it’s owned and operated by
the same person.  They don’t generate enough business to hire staff. 
I asked to see the contract Emily signed.  They insisted none
existed.  None of their cars had been involved in accidents, especially
not the kind Emily was supposedly in.  The woman straight-faced me better
than your poker buddies.”

Again, silence.

“Hello?”

“I’m here,” Chase grumbled. 
“If no accidents, what the hell am I being billed for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Seems common ground for you.”

“Maybe you’d rather be here?”

“Yeah, maybe.  Emily’s in
Scotland, but didn’t take any flights.  She drove somewhere, crashed a car
suddenly no one claims ownership to, and there lacks a contract or a witness to
validate these events.  No one recognizes her picture.  MacLarrin
Castle fails to exist.  Peter, where is she?  My God, what have I
sent that child into?  You
sure
you didn’t see her before she
left?”

Well, shit.  Ever since he
found out I choked the chit, he’s suspected every move I make when it comes to
precious Emily.  Couldn’t wait to see her shocked expression when I walked
down the aisle with another woman, but dear-old-dad had to intervene. 
Everyone’s worried about sweet little Emily.  Dumbass spent good money,
sending her here to Scotland.  First Class tickets.  The seizure of
fits mom had . . . good money spent on a baseborn bitch hadn’t sat well with
mother.
  “Relax.  No, I never saw her prior to her flight. 
I’ll drive to these mountains, ask whomever I see if they know of Castle
MacLarrin, and contact you in a few days.”

“
Few days
my ass!  You
contact me
daily
!  First time I don’t hear from you, I’m filing a
Missing Person’s report.  One of you unaccounted for is more than enough!”

Peter clenched his jaw.

“Your mother’s walking in the
door.  Gotta go.  This situation has her very distressed.”

Peter threw the phone into the
car. 
Distress, my ass!  Mother suffers for reasons matching my
own—your obsession with Emily?!  I’m going to kill the little bitch! 
Screw using her body for a few days.  Bash her head in; clear out. 
How can I be blamed
? 
There’s an impounded wrecked car, blood on
the seat and steering wheel.  When they find her body, they’ll think
someone tried to help her, failed, placed her on the side of the road
. 
Except, he’d been nearly all over Inverness, showing her photo to any and every
able body person he came into contact with.  If the rental contract no
longer existed, so too, his alibi might have holes. 
Damn
. 
Maybe
I should act a bit more distraught.  No, no, then I’ll really be
remembered.  Need to remain invisible.  Easily forgotten
. 
I’ll
take this drive, sleep in the car if need be, and if nothing comes of it . . .
I’m going home.
 

His father could do his own damn
searching for precious Emily. 
I have a wife in New York.  Maybe.
 
Margo had stopped accepting his calls at her office.  This morning, he’d
received the ultimate in recordings: the number to her cell phone was no longer
valid. 

Beyond time to find Emily and
end this stupid goosechase once and for all
!

*   *   *   *   *

“A reprieve from your training, you
will accompany Allen this sunrise.”

It took Emily long seconds to
mentally digest what Urkani was offering.  Suspicion replaced
surprise. 
Best remain silent.
  Sipping her coffee, she eyed
her tormentor over its rim.  Questioning an Elf commander was never a good
idea, or so she’d discovered these past several weeks that he’d been causing
her physical mind-screaming pain.  Archery,
proper
sword
handling—her pricey instructor had been an idiot! 
Apparently, quillons
are for gouging foreheads and ripping out throats, not artsy fartsy décor on
pretty swords
.

Hours upon a barebacked horse—saddle
forbidden, no bit, no reigns. Nope. Not allowed. Only a thick padding. 
Gee,
thanks, guy
.  The proper squeeze of her thighs would communicate to the
beast which direction she wished to travel.  His mane, Urkani instructed, was
for her to steady herself, not to hang on to for dear life.  He became truly
deranged when she bounced around like a ball in a box, during a simple canter. 
Hold with thighs. Flow with the horse. Gently grapple the mane.  Urkani
furthered her conviction he was hell bent on making her life hell when he
forced her to master shooting the target with arrows!  While the damn
horse galloped!
Yeah, because that’s a handy trick to have up one’s sleeve. 
Pfff
.  By night, she begged every god for mercy while easing her tortured
limbs into scalding water. 

Nope, not gonna make one smart
remark to this merciless tyrant offering me a day off.  My luck, Mr. Evil
will change his mind and decide today’s the day I learn escape from thumbscrews
.

Male laughter erupted in her
head.  She reciprocated by mentally giving fang-face the bird. 
Laughter was choked off by threats and the damnation of all female kind.

“Scone, lass?”  Colin offered,
passing a towel-covered basket across the table.

Emily flinched.  “Sorry. 
Daydreaming.  Uh, thanks to O’Shay’s subtle hint, I’ll pass.”

Silverware clattered.  Male
attention pinned Aedan.

Colin’s mouth twitched.  “And
what has the wily beastie done ta’ ye’ now, Lady Emily?”

“It would seem he practices Maeve’s
technique of kneading dough.”  Emily stirred more cream into her
coffee.  Even the voice in her head abruptly silenced. 

Colin dropped his scone with a
thud.

“No, no, no, not
real
dough.  Those are safe enough to eat.”

“Then, I doona’ understand.”

“He mistook my derriere for
dough.  Think I’ll . . . diet for . . . awhile.”  Emily gawked. 
Aedan ran atop tables, leapt over Colin and dove out the window, deftly
escaping Broc’s sword.  Bellowing, several men dove after the shield
guard.  Broc fumed.  Stomped.  Cursed.  Raked his hair back
with his fingers, and stormed over to the window to watch.

“Is someone going to explain why
O’Shay gets Aedan nearly killed every time I open my big mouth?”

“High time someone put that mouser
in his place,” Broc grumbled, still glaring out over his upper bailey. 
Male shouting floated back to them.

“Lady Emily—“

Emily squealed, staring up at
Allen.

“I dare say, you should be well
used to my presence by now.”

“I told you to rattle chains or something.”

Forks clambered upon tabletops, and
became airborne before settling.

“Uh, the idea is
before
you
arrive, Allen.”  Emily clamped her still dancing spoon.

“If you are ready, I will escort
you to the passage where his auto remains hidden.”

Urkani towered over her until she
accepted his hand, bummed her second cup of coffee would have to remain
untouched.

“Good journey, milady,” Broc
sheathed his sword, bowing deeply to her.  “I’ve mi’ own hells ta’
attend.”

She openly admired the way his
thighs flexed in the pale tight leggings, soft leather knee boots carrying him
across the vast stone hall.  “Okay, I’ll bite.  What’s
my
hell
to be?”

“A day with Allen,” Urkani mused.

“Nothing is ever simple with you,
Urkani.  You lie
and
you suck at it.”

Aunsgar laughed, watching his
commander bristle.  Urkani inhaled deeply and visibly calmed.  “You
have mastered many techniques and your ability to ride and hit your mark with
bow earns you a reprieve.”

“It’s killing you to part with a
compliment, isn’t it?”

“My suffrage is great.”

“Thought Elves were above revealing
emotion?” Kavan asked, having just come down from his night watch.  The
guard filled a wooden bowl with hot porridge before straddling the aged
bench. 

“Apparently, I’m a bad influence.”
Emily waggled her brows.