Dawns Everlastin' (former title: Dusk Before Dawn) Book 2 (38 page)

"Wha' did the womon look
like?" Roan asked.

"An old womon." Bill
strained to search the faces in the crowd. "Old, and wearin' a
long, dark, hooded cape." He turned to address the detective. It
was then he spied the woman standing on the stoop. "There! She's
right there!"

All eyes turned in the
direction. Standing demurely, her hands clasped in front of her,
Viola Cooke calmly regarded the faces of her peers.

"Miss Cooke?" Lachlan glided
into a half turn. "Why would you hand this mon tha'
dirk?"

"To spend you of energy, of
course," she crooned, a hand gesturing theatrically. She walked
toward Lachlan, leaving several feet between them.

"It was you I saw on the
stairwell just before the fire," Laura accused.

"You and Roan Ingliss have
been a thorn in my side for far too long." Her hardened gaze
targeted Lachlan. "My whole life has been spent preparing to join
you. How dare you accept that Staples woman as your lover! I saved
myself for you! All these long years. These cursed lonely, long
years. And what did I get for my devotion, my loyalty? Old and
shriveled!"

"I didna know," Lachlan
murmured.

"It's all been for you,
Master Baird. Borgie...Agnes. These two murderers—" She glared at
Roan and Laura. "—had you not interfered! They all hurt you." Her
gaze softened on Lachlan. "I alone have loved you. I died for you,
Lachlan Baird."

"Mother o' God," the
detective gasped, recognizing her as the corpse that had been found
that afternoon.

Mindless of him, she went
on, "I dug my own grave, set the house on fire then covered myself
in snow and waited for death. It took so very long, my dear
Lachlan. So very long. I nearly lost my courage. I had to keep
reminding myself that I had to die here in order to remain with
you. It's all been...for
you."

"The boys!" Laura cried,
remembering that Viola had taken them for the night.

The faded blue eyes cast
Laura a hateful look before once again softening on the laird. "I
can give you something that whore can never give you, Lachlan. Can
Beth give you sons? Three magnificent sons?"

Realization staggered the
laird's reasoning.

"We'll be a family," Viola
sang out, her arms opened to the night.

"Where are the lads?"
Lachlan asked in a strangled voice.

Tipping her head to one
side, Viola sighed, "Preparing, my love. You can't stop me. You
haven't the power left. Be patient. All will soon be
right."

No sooner had she finished,
a series of explosions detonated in the house. Screams razored the
air. Bodies scurried to find shelter from flying rock, mortar and
wood. Roan, clutching Laura's hand, pulled her into a run out of
the blast area.

The explosions continued for
what seemed an eternity. Lachlan and Viola stood their ground,
staring at one another, his expression one of stark desolation,
hers one of utter triumph.

Hunkered by the
Rhododendrons alongside Roan and Laura, the detective stared at the
flames billowing out from the window portals as if observing fire
for the first time in his life. The element seemed to possess
infinite rage, lapping furiously at the night, reaching out far
beyond what remained of the exterior walls.

Laura wept hard, her face
buried against Roan's chest, who refused to believe that the boys
had been caught in the inferno. Long minutes passed.

The sirens of the fire
brigade closed in.

All the while, Lachlan
numbly stood amid chunks of fallen wall, staring at the woman
across from him. It all made sense, now. She'd been the one who had
flung Borgie from the window. She'd been the one to provoke Laura's
memories, to deliver the dirk to Edinburgh.

Yes, he'd known about that,
but only from Laura's thoughts after her return.

He'd been blinded to her
vileness, to her purpose all these years.

She was indeed powerful. He
could sense it, feel its pulsing force. But it was an evil power,
one born to destroy and breed misery.

The flames quieted inside
the structure. Tunnels of black smoke rose into the air. The
explosions were done. Morbid peace blanketed the
grounds.

"Come boys," she joyously
called out, her arms held out toward the house. "We're a family
now."

Rage filled Laura. Shoving
herself away from Roan, she jumped to her feet and ran toward
Viola. But before she reached her, the woman whirled about. The
fiery malignant look in the blue eyes stopped Laura in her
tracks.

Roan came up behind Laura,
and anchored his hands on her shoulders.

"You'll no' get away wi'
this!" he swore to Viola, trembling with frustration and anger
combined. "They were innocent children!"

"What is innocence but a
condition by which to be led?" she flung scathingly. "You had the
audacity to think you could take over this house—become master of
it!" She laughed, but it held no mirth. "
I
am the mistress of Baird House, and
no one shall ever claim it from me!"

"It’s Baird/Ingliss land,
and will be for as long as this earth exists," came a strong voice
from out of the night.

"Aggie!" Roan cried, his
gaze searching for her.

Winston Connery edged closer
to Roan and Laura, his incredulous gaze also sweeping his
surroundings. He was beginning to wonder if this was ghosts 'old
home' week, although he still couldn't accept that this Aggie was
the same Agnes Ingliss who had died a few days ago.

"Aggie!" Roan cried out
again.

From around the west end of
the house, Agnes urged the boys toward the awaiting group. Half the
distance away, the boys took off in a run, flinging themselves into
Laura and Roan's waiting arms. Agnes, her stride slow yet
purposeful, brought herself to stand between the reunited family,
and Viola's deepening wrath.

"The lads remain wi' the
livin'," she said regally, her cold blue eyes boring into Viola's
livid face. "I removed them from the house before the gizmos you
left behind, went off. And I plan to protect them into their old
age, you sorry bitch!"

"You don't belong here!"
Viola hissed.

"It’s because I've been
connected to this place so long, is why I'm here." Her gaze cut to
Lachlan, who stood in the distance. "Ma apologies for thinkin' it
was you who done me in. Least it gave me the strength to remain
till I learned the truth."

Arching a path around Viola,
Lachlan came to Agnes' side. On impulse, he swept up her wrinkled
hand and pressed his lips to its cool back. When he straightened
his expression was one of sheer gratitude. "Yer daith saddened me,"
he said, a telltale crack in his voice.

"Aye, I'm sure it did. You
thought you'd lost yer sparrin' partner."

Again on impulse, Lachlan
wrapped his translucent arms about the thin figure and hugged her.
Tears filled Agnes' eyes. After a moment, she returned the embrace,
although it was difficult for her to fully grasp his
semi-solidity.

"Have you forgotten
about
me?"
Viola
shrieked.

Everyone's attention riveted
on her hostile stance.

"I am here to
stay!"

In the blink of an eye, Beth
materialized behind the woman. Her arms swiftly wrapped about the
cloaked form and, to insure her hold, she cocooned the woman in a
psychic mesh.

Viola raged. Calmly, Beth
took a moment to observe the boys and the couple coddling them then
she looked at Lachlan and offered a sad smile.

"I love you."

Her words stabbed him in his
pseudo heart.

"Beth, you
canna—"

"There's no other way," she
said, her voice cracking with emotion.

Her eyes closed briefly.
When she opened them, a single tear spilled down her cheek. A
strong breeze came from out of nowhere and swept around her and her
violently squirming captive. "I love you," she repeated to Lachlan
and soared upward, carrying Viola into the sky, higher and higher,
until she'd become but a speck among the grayness.

Lachlan alone saw a light
appear in the heavens. He felt its draw, but resisted with all the
willpower he had left. Despite the vast distance, he saw Beth soar
into the light with Viola, until the mysterious orifice closed its
door.

A sob escaped him. He sank
to his knees, his face remaining lifted to the sky. The greatest
emptiness he'd ever known was threatening to overpower
him.

"Lannie, wha' happened?"
asked Roan, crouching in front of the laird.

"She's passed on," Lachlan
rasped.

"She'll come ba—"

Lachlan shook his head.
"There's no comin' back from tha' place. She did it to assure Viola
couldna return. Ma Beth. Ma sweet Beth."

Roan looked up to find his
aunt staring at the laird with deep sympathy. A mixture of warming
emotions filled him. It had been a night he would never forget.
Glancing at the spectators trying to inch past the wall of bobbies,
he knew Baird House had birthed new stories which would roll off
the tongues of Scotsmen for generations to come.

A small hand rested on his
shoulder. "Roan, it’s time you and Laura took the lads home.
They've had a tryin' night."

Rising to his feet, Roan
timidly touched his fingertips to his aunt's cool, wrinkled cheek.
"We'd thought yer heart had failed, Aggie."

"A pillow over ma face did
the trick," she said airily. "Don’t grieve. I've never felt better
in ma—oops, never mind."

Lachlan rose, his usual
exuberance missing from his bearing. "Aggie, may I a word wi'
you?"

She walked several feet
away, Lachlan following.

Roan grinned down at Laura,
whose eyes smiled adoringly at him from her kneeling position with
the boys.

"Mr. Ingliss."

Winston Connery stopped Roan
from returning to Laura. Facing the man, he arched a challenging
eyebrow.

The detective released a
controlled breath, and shrugged. "I wonder if you have a suggestion
on how I should write this report?"

A brief laugh escaped Roan
before he could curb it. "I'm afraid I can't help you there." He
glanced behind him at the house. "It’s a magical place, this Baird
House. Put tha' in yer report, detective."

"Roan?"

Agnes returned to his side
and linked her arm through his. Lachlan stood behind her, an
enigmatic gleam in his eyes.

"I'll be stayin' on here.
For a time."

"Can't you come
home?"

She nodded, her expression
one of happiness. "I could, but I've things to do here, Roan.
You'll understand, in time. Go home now."

Roan looked at Lachlan, a
wavering sigh passing his lips. "Is there anythin' I can do for
you?"

"No. Aggie and I...weel, we
have a lot to talk abou'."

Laura prompted her nephews
to walk to the foursome. Kevin, his eyes bright with wonder, smiled
up at Agnes. "You look pretty good for bein' dead," he
quipped.

"Someone was kind enough to
dress me in ma favorite Sunday frock," she said brightly, her hands
smoothing the front of the navy blue dress with its lace bib. "But
enough abou' me, ma lads. You sleep tonight, and dream good dreams.
There's naught to fear no mair. You have ma word on
tha'."

"Viola was the bad man,"
Kahl said dully.

"Aye." Bending over, Agnes
placed a kiss on each boy's brow. "I love you, lads."
Straightening, she sighed wistfully. "And I'm countin' on you three
to help ma Roan and yer aunt to make you all a fine
family."

"We'll be good," Alby
promised sleepily.

"Not too good," Laura said
with a soft laugh. "I've gotten used to a little excitement in my
life."

"A little?" Roan shook his
head then held out his hand to Laura. His strong fingers clasping
her hand, he tugged her to him and deeply, although briefly, kissed
her. "I see I've ma work cut ou' for me."

"You have no idea," she
grinned mischievously.

"I'd like to make an
announcement afore I completely fade," Lachlan said, his voice
carrying in all directions of his property. "Christmas Eve, abou'
ten, ye're all invited to gather here wi' yer families. I've a few
words to say afore I leave this world, and I promise a gift yer
sorry eyes will no' soon forget."

He disappeared.

A hush fell over the people.
Snow fell more rapidly now, the wet, large flakes clinging to
everything they touched. Little by little, the crowd dispersed.
Cars and trucks slowly left the driveway. The bobbies remained
until the last spectator had left, then they joined the firemen,
who had been unable to get close enough to the house to use their
equipment. But it didn't matter. The flames were nearly gone. There
was nothing left in the structure except charred mortar, stone,
glass, and metals.