Labyrinth (15 page)

Not a ghost, Margot amended. A ghost was the spirit of a person who had died. According to the legend recounted on Cat’s computer, Lord Colin Morrison, the man who enticed women into Castle Morrison in hopes one could free him from the witch’s spell, was alive and well inside the painting that hung in the room Margot occupied.

A chill prickled up her spine. This was some damned strange business—and she’d seen strange things back home. Most of those
oddities
could be accounted for by science, greed, or sex: undiagnosed chemical imbalances that accelerated into mental illness, potions that induced the victim to vomit out so-called demons of alcoholism, or belief in spells that could kill.

Margot glanced at the gris-gris. Regret brought a pang of sadness. When had things gone so wrong with Cat? Memory rose of Donny’s shy smile whenever he looked at Cat, then the lifeless eyes as they had been the day they pulled him from the lake. Anger shoved aside regret. Cat wanted power. Let her rule Hell alongside Satan.

Margot leaned toward the computer screen in order to read the diary of Lord Colin Morrison’s mother. Ainslee Morrison had given birth to twin boys. Colin, the eldest, and Logan, the second born. When their father died, Colin took his father’s place as Earl.

Ainslee wrote:
Now that the earl is dead, I fear for the treasure our house has guarded these centuries.
Colin cares nothing for the faith, for our past, or the future of our faith.
If only
Logan
had been first born.
Colin is preparing to set out for the east and refuses
Logan
’s council. If his journey is successful, our house, the Templar’s hope, all that we hold dear, will die.

The Colin Morrison of Ainslee’s diary sounded far more rational than the legend. Despite the fact the Templars had been outlawed seven hundred years before Colin lived, the Morrison clan had remained Templars. But he realized that expending energy to guard the secret location of the treasure was a waste of time. Unlike Cat, he probably knew the treasure would have been picked clean long before his time.

According to Ainslee, the two brothers vanished after their thirty-fifth birthdays. Had Colin’s trip east taken the two men’s lives? What had that trip been? Whatever happened, Colin’s disappearance had likely played into the legend that he had been enchanted by a witch. A soft ding sounded from her Blackberry. The three-fifty alarm. She’d set it before starting out to make sure she didn’t lose track of time—which she had.

Margot opened the window that displayed the files copied to her Blackberry. The Morrison genealogy, Ainslee’s diary, and a file marked Astro had all transferred, and she’d already emailed the password protected Astro file to Bobby. She disconnected the USB cord, slid it back into the case, closed the window, and cleared the history on the computer.

She still had no clue why Cat had invited her to
Scotland
, but she had learned why Cat bought the castle. Once Bobby broke into the password protected files, maybe she’d discover how Cat planned to find the Templars’ mythical treasure.

****

“Cat.” Margot brushed past a man leaving the stables and hurried inside after her. The smell of pine filled her nostrils. She glanced down and was surprised at the clean pine shavings that padded the wood floor. She caught up to
Cat
. “Where’s the manure? I thought stables stunk of manure, not a fresh Glade pine scent.”

“The bin out back,” Cat replied. “The stables are mucked out twice a day.”

Margot slowed and reached out to touch a long, blond horse tail that hung over the lower half of a stall door. The tail switched and she snatched her hand back.

Cat was two stalls down and Margot jogged to catch up. “Where’s the fire?”

“A mare is about to foal.”

“You’re kidding?”

Cat shook her head. “She’s early, and the vet isn’t here. I can’t risk losing the foal. I spent a fortune on stud service.”

“Now you are kidding.”

“Nope.
The father is a four time National top ten winner. I had his semen specially flown in.”

“Flown in?”

“I’m a businesswoman and horses are a good business.”

“A business that brings respectability?”
Margot asked.

Cat nodded. “I’m not that small town girl you knew back in
Mississippi
.”

“You’re not that white trash, you mean.”

“I can elevate myself just like you did—even though
you
didn’t have to.”

Margot grabbed Cat’s arm and swung her around. “What the hell does that mean?”

Cat hesitated, and Margot thought she wouldn’t answer, then Cat said, “It wasn’t enough that your family is the richest in
Wilkinson
County
, you had to make yourself deputy sheriff.”

“What?” Margot burst out. “That money isn’t mine. Hell, it’s more yours than mine. And I went into law enforcement because I care.”

“The beauty queen cares.” Cat’s eyes hardened. “Will there be anything else, deputy?”

Margot startled, then realized she still gripped Cat’s arm. Margot released her. Cat turned and she reflexively followed, heart pounding, mind racing. She’d suspected Cat begrudged her connection to Donny’s family, but how long had Cat hated her?

Cat stopped three stalls down and Margot’s breath caught. A man knelt beside a golden brown horse whose coat almost glowed. Not a single flaw marred her sleek lines. A swath of white ran down the middle of her head. Large brown eyes stared at Margot with such anxious emotion that she wanted to stroke the mighty head and tell her everything would be all right.

“My God,” Margot breathed. “She’s beautiful.”

Cat squatted near the mare’s head. “How’s she doing, Angus?”

“Just fine.
Early doesna’ necessarily mean bad.”

“Hollis is on the way. Think you can deal with things until he arrives?” Cat asked. “He’s at least an hour and a half away.”

Angus nodded and ran a hand down the
mare’s
back. She whinnied softly. “She’s not close yet. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Cat nodded, but was clearly unconvinced.

“Is there anything I can do?” Margot asked.

“You might consider staying in tonight instead of spending the night at a hotel with a stranger.”

“Goddamit, Cat, you’re the one who suggested I fuck him.” Angus’ head jerked in her direction, but Margot ignored him. “We raised a lot more hell than this back in
Wilkinson
County
.”

Cat stood. “In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t
Wilkinson
County
.”

“I’ve noticed all right.
Just like I’ve noticed the stick up your ass.”
Frustration shot through Margot—along with the realization that her chances of finding evidence against Cat were going up in smoke. She softened her voice. “I’m sorry. I know how important this is to you.”

Cat studied her as if assessing whether or not she could believe her. Margot pulled her into a hug, forcing her body to relax into the embrace. This acting job was the hardest she’d ever had. But she would fuck the Devil if that’s what it took to give Donny the peace he deserved. Memory flashed of the episode in the dungeon, and she startled at the odd thought that she nearly
had
fucked the Devil.

Margot released Cat. “Now, Angus says you don’t have anything to worry about, and I have no plans to go out tonight. I’ll be here if you need me.”

Cat gave her a thin-lipped nod and squatted beside the horse.

A chime from Margot’s Blackberry announced an incoming message.  She glanced at Cat, saw she was already engrossed in caring for the mare, and stepped from the stall as she pulled the Blackberry from her back pocket. The icon in the lower right hand corner of the screen indicated she had an email. Margot tapped the screen and a message opened.

I’ve attached file Astro. Take a look NOW. I don’t know what’s going on over there, but you’d better get the hell out. What kind of weird have you gotten yourself involved with?

Call me.

Bobby

Chapter Fifteen

Margot slowed her walk along the garden pathway. The words
What
kind of weird have you gotten yourself involved with
vanished as the Astro document opened on the Blackberry. How much weirder could things possibly get? She caught sight of the birth date and time in the upper left hand corner of the document. What the hell—Margot stared.

Just how much weirder could things get?

Half an hour later, Margot straightened from the bench overlooking a small fountain in Castle Morrison’s gardens. She rolled tension from her shoulders. She’d sat too long against the hard wooden back. She released a slow breath and returned her attention to the Blackberry cradled in her left hand. Weird had taken on new meaning. Significance of the numbers, data, and elaborate astrological wheel displayed on the screen eluded her, but the birth date and time in the upper right hand corner was hers, and the longitude and latitude listed beneath the birth data was her birth place,
Woodville
,
Mississippi
.

The astrological chart was based on
her
life.

A second chart based on Colin Morrison’s birth date filled another document, along with a chart marked
Composite Chart
that compared the synastry between her and Colin’s charts. Scribbled notes interpreting the data that surrounded the bi-wheel boiled down to one point; Cat believed that Margot was the woman destined to free Colin Morrison from the three hundred year old spell that kept him imprisoned in the painting.

How could an astrological chart lead Cat to believe such insanity? Hell, how could she believe a man could be enchanted inside a picture in the first place? Those questions jumbled with a dozen others, all of which paled beside the wonder of how Cat could think Margot would willingly fuck a serial killer.

And the price Margot would pay…

Kicker number one: The sacrificial lamb is promised the fuck of her life.
“It’s the promise of passion that entices a woman.”

Kicker number two: This sexual encounter would be the last one of the woman’s life.
“She must enter his lair knowing she will sacrifice her life for his freedom.”

Margot’s jaw tensed. Cat had forgotten who she was dealing with. Margot would burn the damn painting before she would let a serial killer touch her.

A soft chime from the Blackberry caused her to jump. “Sweet Christ,” she muttered.

The chime indicated a text message. Why was Bobby texting instead of emailing? She tapped the icon and the text appeared on the screen.