“Yes, I can see that about her,” I said. It was true enough. Otherwise, how would she have kept the love of two men all these years?
But he was reading something else in my eyes. Or maybe he was remembering my father’s words, insinuations, accusations. “In case you’re still wondering, I did not do this.”
I shook my head in contradiction to his assumption but that didn’t stop him.
“I would not do anything to hurt Shelby or Carter.” A deep sigh caused his upper body to shudder. “I know I’m the logical one for you and your father to suspect, but it’s not always the ex-spouse who’s guilty. Not all ex-spouses seek revenge, you know.”
“I know that,” I said softly. “I believe you. I don’t think you had anything to do with this.”
He nodded at us before losing himself once more in the comfort and serenity of the Sound.
I followed MacGregor’s lead, heading back down the path that had led us to Greg Rallings.
MacGregor’s voice was soft when he spoke directly into my ear. “Some men don’t cheat, McNair. I would have sworn he was one of them.”
“You’re sure?” I whispered.
He nodded. “He loves her too much.” The squeeze of my hand told me what I already knew. He too was one of those men who would not cheat.
“Jenny!” Greg’s voice caused me to turn around.
“Yes?”
“Please find Ally. Please.”
As I turned back around and headed home, I realized his plea wasn’t only on behalf of Shelby and Carter. It was for him too. I was wrong. It had nothing to do with his wanting to play hero. He just wanted Ally home.
I waited until we were opening our front door before I spoke. “She’s not Carter’s.”
“What? Who?”
“Ally. She’s Greg’s baby.”
MacGregor tossed his jacket onto the back of the nearest chair. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. It should have been obvious the first time I saw him. He’s worried about Shelby, but he’s devastated about Ally.”
MacGregor wiped some of the moisture from his thick damp hair. “Are you going to say anything?”
“I don’t know. No. Yes. No. I don’t know. Obviously Greg knows. The question is, does Carter?”
“What are you thinking, lass?”
“That if Carter does know, then maybe our favorite detective, Ben Blaine, isn’t so far off. Maybe a member of the family is behind this.”
“Carter.”
Despite the blazing fire MacGregor had built, I wrapped my jacket more tightly around me. “It’s logical.”
MacGregor’s laugh was soft. “Since when did you ever rely on logic, McNair?” He put his arms around me and pulled me against him, rubbing my back to help warm me. But we both knew the chill I was feeling had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.
“There’s always a first time.” I pulled my cell out of my pocket and pressed Charlie’s number.
“How did it go with Holly?”
“I’ll fill you in later. MacGregor and I ran into Greg Rallings at the park.”
“Och, did you now?” He must have sensed something in my tone of voice. He waited for me to deliver the punch line.
“Ally is Greg’s, not Carter’s.”
“Bloody hell! Did he tell you that?”
“Not with words.”
“I did notice how upset he is about this.”
“Was I so far off, Charlie? Were all of us? Was Ben Blaine right? Were the Elliots involved after all? But instead of Shelby, it’s Carter?”
Charlie was silent. I could picture him pacing in front of his picture window. I glanced out our window toward his house and confirmed it. “I don’t know, lassie. You’ve got me on this one. What do you think?”
“Just the fact that they hired us, makes me think they aren’t behind it, including Carter.”
“You can’t count on that, Jenny. Some of the most clever criminals have hired PI’s for that very reason—to appear innocent.”
“Good point.”
“I should have asked what you sense rather than think.”
I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as I hugged my jacket more tightly. “I think—and sense—that I need some clarity. I really don’t think Carter would do anything to hurt Shelby. He’s devoted to her.”
“But if he knows her ex-husband fathered their baby—”
“It’s an unusual relationship, Charlie.” I was finally feeling warmer now that MacGregor had guided me over to the fireplace and shoved a glass of brandy into my hand before heading back to the kitchen.
“What does Malcolm think?”
“He’s stunned too. But he’s more consumed with figuring out how the runner gained so much distance on him.” I looked into the kitchen where once again he was staring out at the park.
“So, any brilliant ideas on where we go from here?”
I laughed as I watched MacGregor. “I’d like to take a ferry boat ride over to Bainbridge to clear MacGregor’s muddled brain. And mine.”
“Okay then. Now tell me what happened with Holly, luv.”
“Nothing, Charlie. Absolutely nothing.”
“I’m here if you need me, you know.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up and took a sip of my brandy.
“You think Greg is the baby’s father? Not Carter?”
I whirled around at the sound of Josh’s voice. “Yes, we do.” I explained the reasoning behind the revelation, if you could call it reasoning.
“Wow. Do you think Carter knows?” He sat down in the chair beside the fireplace, Rocky happily curling into a very large mound at his feet.
“That’s the question of the day.”
“And Jillian?”
“I don’t know, Josh, but it’s really important that you not say anything to her about this.”
“No, of course not.”
“Have you seen her since she was over at Charlie’s?”
“Yeah, a couple times. In the park. She goes there a lot. I think she likes to get out of the house.”
And he liked to keep her company whenever she did that. “How’s she doing?”
“Not good. She’s really upset about all this. She keeps saying if only she’d gone with her mom to the park, it wouldn’t have happened. She could have stopped the kidnapper.”
I shook my head. Mother and daughter, both suffering the same guilt.
“I think Mac and I are going to take a ferry boat ride, if I can convince him, just to clear our minds. Do you want to come with us?”
“No thanks. Matt just called. I’ll go hang out with him and Holly. And Charlie wants to go over the kids we should get information on tomorrow at the college. Again.” He groaned, then laughed. He really didn’t mind.
My heart chakra felt a surge of joy flowing through it. I didn’t think it was for my benefit or even Josh’s that Matt had called him and invited him to hang out. He genuinely enjoyed Josh’s company.
“I’ll take Rocky with me,” he said.
“Thanks, Josh. We won’t be long. Maybe we’ll all have dinner together tonight. Mac and I can pick up fish and chips or something.”
“Sounds great.”
When he heard the front door close, MacGregor finally managed to pull himself away from the kitchen window. “Where did Josh go?”
“To Charlie’s. Where did you go?”
He shook his head in frustration. “Back to the day I chased the runner. I don’t get it, McNair. I keep thinking it’s not possible that he could have gained so much distance on me. I wish I could figure it out.”
I understood what he was saying. If it was absorbing this much of his attention, it had to be significant. “How about taking a ferry boat ride?”
He rolled his eyes, then realizing how discounting that gesture was, smiled apologetically. “You really think it will help?”
“I’m counting on its helping me. And I wouldn’t mind the company.”
“So
ld. But only if you let me feed you first. You hardly had any breakfast and it’s past lunchtime.”
How was it that I was forgetting to eat these days? Being in love? Or worrying about a kidnapped child? He took a pot of onion soup he had made out of the refrigerator and set it on the stove to heat. Ten minutes later I was sitting at the kitchen table, slurping down soup and chomping on a piece of thick whole wheat sourdough bread.
“You’re not having any?”
“I did. About an hour ago. Tried to wait for you but my stomach protested vehemently.”
“Okay, well do you have to sit and watch me eat?” I wondered if I’d ever get over my self-consciousness of eating in front of someone when they weren’t eating.
He reached across the table and gently pushed my hair behind my ear. “Aye, I do, lass.”
I grimaced, took two more spoonfuls of the soup, another bite of bread, and cleared my bowl.
“You don’t want any more?” He wasn’t insulted, only concerned. He was easy to read that way.
“I’m anxious to take that ferry ride. And it’s very filling.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Fifty-five minutes later we were standing on the deck of the ferry, watching as we drifted away from Seattle toward Bainbridge island. It was November. There was the usual slight drizzle in the air. Other than a stoic photographer, we were the only passengers outside. I led MacGregor around to a sheltered spot where we could stand without being buffeted about yet still enjoy the exhilarating fresh air.
We were silent for the entire trip. I didn’t know where his thoughts were, but I was attempting to focus on the moment and think of nothing but the sensation of the cool moist air against my skin, the deep growling sound of the engine, and the cries of the seagulls as they followed the boat in hopes of a crumb of bread. And of course, the feel of MacGregor’s strength as I leaned back against his chest and he surrounded me with his arms.
“Did it work?” he whispered as the ferry slowed in its approach of the island.
I laughed. “Don’t know yet.” And I wouldn’t know for a while. It didn’t happen like that. Ride a ferry, solve a mystery. It would be nice if it did. It was usually the next day or a couple days later when I was struck with a revelation of some kind. Either that, or something happened on the ferry that related to the crime I was trying to solve. I never knew how it would work. And it didn’t always work. But it always made me feel invigorated and re-energized. It was worth it for that.
“Do we get off?” he asked.
“We have to. They won’t let us stay on. We can go into the terminal and re-board or walk around town. Whichever—”
“What is it, McNair?”
Chills were running up and down my spine as I stared down at the shore adjacent to where the ferry was docking. “Come on!”
We were breathless by the time we reached the lower car deck. I noticed that MacGregor was not nearly as breathless as I was. Time to get back to exercising.
“What did you see?”
I made my way through the parked cars to the front of the ferry just as we reached our destination. “There!” I pointed toward a burlap sack that had floated onto the beach adjacent to the dock.
MacGregor gave me a bewildered look.
“No!” The movement of the boat had caused the sack to be carried back into the water. “Quick! We’ve got to do something.”
The ferry workers told us we needed to get into our car which we had not brought with us. I quickly explained the situation. “Something is alive in that burlap sack! We’ve got to get it out of the water before it drowns!”
“How do you know, McNair?”
It was more than having kidnapped babies on the brain. “It moved! It looked like something inside was bouncing around, trying to get out! Please! Can we go up the ramp before you let the cars off?”
Two ferry workers looked at me as if I were nuts, shook their heads and one said, “You’ll need to drive off or use the foot-passenger bridge if you don’t have a vehicle.”
Just then he unhooked the rope to allow the cars to disembark. I grabbed MacGregor’s hand and yelled, “If we save a life, you’ll be glad you let us go!” With that we ran ahead of the cars, and headed down to the beach.
The sack was moving in and out with the flow and ebb of the water. As soon as it got close enough, MacGregor stepped into the water and grabbed it and pulled it onto dry land.
“Puppies!” I yelled once I’d heard the distinctive sound of yapping.
MacGregor quickly untied the sack. Sure enough, four precious little white puppies with black speckles across their faces were bouncing up and down in between shivers.
MacGregor scooped up the bundle and we made our way back up the hill to the car ramp. As soon as the cars had finished disembarking, we retraced our illegal steps back down the ramp, just ahead of the oncoming cars. As determined by the stern expressions of the two ferry workers whom we had ignored, we were in for a scolding. “Puppies!” I called out to them. “You just helped save four precious puppies.”
“That was very dangerous. You should never have run ahead of the vehicles like that,” one of them lectured, but his tone of voice was becoming more sympathetic with each word as I pulled out one of the squiggling puppies to show him. “I take it you don’t have a vehicle with you?”
“Aye, we walked on,” MacGregor confirmed.
“You’ll have to re-board,” came from the less sympathetic worker who was clearly unimpressed with our bounty.
“Yes, we know that. Where can we put the puppies?”
“You’re not thinking of leaving them with us, are you?” The non-dog lover asked.
I glanced up at MacGregor whose twinkling eyes supported my next words. “No, of course not. We’ll take care of them. We just need to know where we can put them while we leave and return.”
“I’ll find you a box,” said the one who was petting the puppy with the one white ear and one black. “You’d better get upstairs. We’re starting to load the cars.”
I nodded and hurried ahead of MacGregor to open the door for him. We took the puppies up to the first deck but clearly we would not be able to leave the boat now. The new passengers were already boarding. Within fifteen minutes the ferry worker, with box in hand, found us as we each cuddled two thawing pups. Not only had he managed to find a box to contain our new possessions, but a blanket as well. Of course, by then we were surrounded by passengers who were volunteering their jackets and sweaters.
Once we had the four litter mates tucked comfortably inside the box, MacGregor said, “Do you know a vet that’s open on a Sunday?”
I pulled out my cell and started searching. It only took a minute to find an emergency vet who was located between the ferry terminal and home.
“First stop vet, second fish and chips?” I asked.
“I think we’ll have to run out for those after we get these wee rascals home. What kind do you think they are?”
“Mostly English setter, but they wouldn’t be purebred.”
“How can you tell?”
“The speckles on their faces. Once they’re full-grown, they’ll be covered with them. But if they were purebred, no one would have disposed of them like this. They’d be worth around four hundred dollars each. Unless—” I leaned back with a sigh.
“Unless what, lass?”
“They’re sick. If they have distemper or something and the mother knew they were going to die, she’d ignore them.”
“Why would the owner dump them in the Sound then?”
“Who knows. I don’t know what distemper looks like, but they seem okay. Still, I think it’s good we found a vet who is open today.” Just as it was good I had been struck with self-consciousness and had stopped eating MacGregor’s delicious onion soup when I had.
* * *
I looked up at MacGregor who was sitting on a chair, watching the squirming puppies slipping and sliding across the barricaded portion
of his kitchen.
“More than you bargained for?”
“A wee bit.” He looked up at me and laughed. “If you’d asked me a year ago if I expected to have four puppies in my kitchen, I’ve had told you never. But now—? Anything is fair game.”
“I’m sorry, MacGregor.”
“Sorry?” He stood up and grabbed me and held me still so I would know how serious he was. “Seriously, lassie? You’re sorry?”
I cringed. “For all the turmoil I’ve brought into your life, the inconveniences.”
He shook his head and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was definitely moisture forming in his eyes. His voice was raspy when he spoke. “You’ve really no idea how much I’m enjoying this, have you? The turmoil and the inconvenience of people coming in and out of my home, an oversized shepherd-mountain dog sleeping anywhere he pleases, a batch of puppies in my kitchen. You’ve no idea, darlin’.”
I reached my arms around his neck and pulled him so tightly into my arms that I thought perhaps both of us would pass out from lack of oxygen. “If you hadn’t already proposed to me,” I whispered, “I’d ask you to marry me right now.”
He pulled me even closer, if that was possible. A shared moment of heaven.
A shared moment that was interrupted by my father’s voice. “Jenny! Malcolm! New development.”
I reluctantly released my fiancé and turned to listen to my father. “In here, Charlie.”
His voice was coming closer. “They found— What the blazes is this?” Charlie stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at the makeshift puppy condominium.
My stomach muscles were so tight I thought I might throw up if he didn’t tell me quickly. “We rescued them from the Sound,” I explained. “But tell us, what did they find?” Or who? I felt lightheaded and for a moment I thought I might pass out. I held onto MacGregor for support.
“They’ve found— the runaway runner.”
“Is—is he the one?”
“Unfortunately no. Apparently he’s only a lovesick lad who took off after his girlfriend who had broken up with him. Instead of heading home to Spokane, he headed south to Portland.”
“Damn.” MacGregor ran his hand through his hair. He did that a lot, I’d noticed. No wonder his hair was eternally messy. It was a habit Greg Rallings and Carter Elliot were quickly adopting.
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