SINS of the Rex Book 2

by Emma Slate

  “Come here,” he said, crooking his finger.

  “Flynn,” I began, leaning over so I was closer to him.

  The sparkle in his cobalt blue eyes was all devil. His hand grasped the back of my head and he pulled me down towards him. His lips met mine in a fervent, passionate kiss. His tongue entered my mouth, eliciting shivers up and down my spine. Flynn pulled back and grinned.

  “You must be feeling better,” I said breathlessly.

  “I’ll be back to my old self in no time,” he promised. “And then you better watch out.”

  My phone buzzed, startling me out of a sound sleep. I reached for it, hoping it wasn’t an emergency. A number I didn’t recognize appeared across the screen. I answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Barrett?” a voice asked. “Is this Barrett Schaefer?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Barrett! It’s Dr. Albright! How are you?”

  I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It read 2 AM. “I’m fine, Dr. Albright. How are you?”

  “Oh, good, good. Listen, I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you. I was on vacation when I got your email. Fascinating question about the Count of Roehenstart.”

  I yawned but quickly stifled it.

  Dr. Albright went on, “It’s assumed that the man died without children even though he was married twice. Still, he was reported to have had a mistress and there is no official documentation on whether or not she gave him children. There’s a book written by… oh, darn, I’ve forgotten the title. It was repudiated by the scholars.”

  “Sir, you’re rambling,” I said.

  “Right. Sorry. If only I could remember the title! Anyway, it was written in the 1820’s, I believe.”

  I put a hand to my third eye. “Do you remember the name of the author?”

  “I can’t remember the first name, but the last name was Stuart.”

  “Like the House of Stuart?” I asked.

  “Yes, exactly. I really wish I could remember—oh! Augustus Stuart. Give that a try!”

  Dr. Albright was only in his sixties, much too young to be senile. Then again, maybe not.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  “I do like a good puzzle,” he went on. “I’ll look on my end, now that I’ve remembered the name. I sure do miss you at Columbia. You always had a way of helping me clear away the clutter of my brain. I wonder what knowledge I’d find if I swept up there.” He chuckled at his own attempt at humor. Despite myself, I grinned.

  “Thank you for your help, Dr. Albright. I appreciate it.” Not wanting to feel like I was rushing him off, I asked him about his vacation. And then I got a thirty minute monologue about the shellfish buffet at an all inclusive resort in the Bahamas.

  When we finally hung up, Hawk was awake. I fed and changed him and then settled back into bed with him, my brain somehow on. I fired up the iPad and began Googling Augustus Stuart.

  I sifted through pages and pages of esoteric dead ends until I found a glimmer of something useful. Augustus Stuart had written a journal about being the ignored son of the Count of Roehenstart and it had been published in 1823.

  If Edward Roehenstart was descended from Bonnie Prince Charlie, would that give him delusions of grandeur? Would that give him enough of a reason to want a free Scotland and to be the one to lead the cause?

  I needed to speak to someone who would know for sure. It was time to see Barnabas.

  Chapter 57

  “No,” Flynn stated the next morning. “You can’t go.”

  I raised my eyebrow but forced myself not to raise my voice. “Can’t?”

  “I won’t let you put yourself in danger.”

  “Are you going to physically stop me?” I demanded.

  Flynn attempted to get up out of bed, like he actually had the fortitude to prevent me from going. I rushed over to him and put a hand to his shoulder. He was sweating and breathing hard, clutching his belly in pain.

  “You damn fool,” I said softly, helping him get back into bed. “Please, Flynn. I have a hunch and I want to follow it. I wanted to go weeks ago, to confirm that Roehenstart was our man, but Duncan thought it was best to wait until we had more information.”

  “What good will talking to Barnabas do?” he demanded. “Except alert Roehenstart that you’re back in Dornoch and unprotected.”

  “I’m not unprotected,” I said. “I’ll be taking Nathan. Have you seen that guy? He’s a tank.”

  “I’m aware. I was the one who hired him.” He grumbled. “He better do a better job than your last bodyguard.”

  “Does that mean you’ll give your blessing and let me go? I don’t really need your permission, love. Please don’t force the issue.”

  “I have no control over the SINS and now I have no control over my wife. I’m a laughingstock.”

  “Oh, Flynn,” I said with a wry grin. “You never had control over me.”

  Flynn laughed. “True.”

  “Besides, nothing better than word of mouth.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Give me the date you want to call all the SINS members together. I’ll tell Barnabas.”

  “And Barnabas will tell everyone else,” he said with a smile. “He’ll make sure Roehnestart knows about the meeting. Genius.”

  “Do you notice that we’re always leaving each other?” I blurted out. My eyes began to fill with tears. “Either you leave me, or I leave you? We’ve both left Hawk. I’m a terrible person.”

  “Oh, love, come here,” he said, gesturing for me to sit next to him. “How can you even think that after all we’ve been through?”

  “Exactly because of what we’ve been through,” I said. I took a seat on the bed.

  “Rest with me a minute.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  I scooted in, careful not to jostle him. He wasn’t having any of it and attempted to drag me closer so that I could place my head on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, soothing me like I soothed Hawk.

  We pressed together for a while until my breathing calmed and my tears abated. I didn’t remember falling asleep, comforted in the embrace of my husband.

  Nathan held the umbrella and helped me out of the car. I tucked my hand in the crook of his arm as he led me up the pathway of the castle Flynn and I had restored.

  It felt like forever since I’d been here, slept here, dreamt here.

  “You really love Scotland?” Nathan asked, clearly appalled by the dark sky. We’d taken a commercial flight from Belfast to Edinburgh and driven to Dornoch. It had been raining since we touched down in Scotland and it wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

  I grinned at him. “Wait until you see this house. It might change your mind about this place.” Unlocking the door, I pushed it open and stepped into the foyer. I took off my outerwear and struggled out of my boots.

  Nathan stood stock still, his mouth agape.

  “I know,” I said with a laugh. “Close the door, you’re letting the heat out.”

  I’d called Katherine’s grandmother, Glenna, and asked her if she could discreetly come to the house, turn on the heat, and do a minimal amount of grocery shopping. She didn’t ask questions, knowing her granddaughter was in New York. I liked that about the SINS women; they could keep a secret.

  After Nathan took off his raincoat and shoes, I asked if he wanted a tour of the house. He nodded enthusiastically. As we walked through the house, he ran his hand across the walls and the stair banister. I briefly showed him Hawk’s newly redesigned nursery, realizing I’d need another crib. There was more than enough space for Hawk and his new brother or sister to share a room. It would make things easier in the beginning.

  “You could rent out all the extra rooms,” Nathan said when we were in the kitchen. I opened a beer and handed it to him, glad that he was here. The house was big, and I didn’t want to be alone.

  “There’s an ide
a,” I said. “You hungry?”

  “I could eat. So, what’s the plan? When are you meeting with this Barney guy?”

  I smirked. “Barnabas. I plan on dropping in on him tomorrow.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “He’s seventy-years-old, so I doubt it. He is a sheep farmer though, so he might be tougher than he looks.”

  Nathan pretended to look menacing. He ruined it by smiling. Despite his bulk and the fact that he carried a gun, he was strangely good-humored. I hadn’t seen him in action though, and I hoped I never had to.

  We ate a light dinner and then I left Nathan to enjoy the entertainment center while I soaked in the bath. Depending on what I gleaned from Barnabas, my plan could go a number of different ways.

  The Pretender hid behind hired soldiers and preyed on children. Arlington was no better. I would find a way to destroy both of them, ensuring that the SINS remained intact, led by either a Buchanan or a Campbell.

  The next morning was cool with a clear sky. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, knowing Scotland’s penchant for rain and dark skies. Nathan took the wheel of the car and I gratefully sat in the passenger side. Though my morning sickness seemed to have disappeared, it now manifested itself in motion sickness. I looked out the window while we drove to Barnabas Stuart’s farm, but the passing landscape did nothing to keep my attention away from my rolling stomach.

  “Are you and Shawna dating?” I blurted out.

  “That’s a personal question. Are you even allowed to ask me that or is that against the rules?”

  “Nathan,” I said through a slow breath, “I feel like I’m about to vomit. Talking about your love life is a worthy distraction. Humor me. Please?”

  He shot me a grin. “All right. I’ll oblige. Shawna and I went on a few dates when we were in New York. Nothing serious though.”

  “She not good enough for you?” I asked, pretending to sound like an overbearing parent.

  He laughed, showing white teeth. “No, she is. Definitely. She’s funny and smart but self-deprecating. She knows what she wants, and I admire that.”

  “I’m sensing a ‘but’.”

  “However,” he said with a wry grin. “I’m not in a place where I can get serious with someone.”

  “Do you want to? Be serious, I mean?”

  “Not really. Besides, my employer is a regular jetsetter. She’s demanding and—”

  I laughed. “Ah, so it’s my fault you don’t have time for a girlfriend.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Nathan turned down the road that led to Barnabas’s home. It was an old stone structure, which had probably been around since the 1800’s. We parked and I got out of the car.

  I looked at Nathan. “Try not to look too menacing. We don’t want to give him a heart attack.”

  “You think I’m that scary? I’m flattered.”

  “Save me from sarcastic men,” I muttered, approaching the stone pathway. I knocked on the front door and waited.

  The door opened and Barnabas’s robust frame filled the doorway. At first he looked confused and then it morphed into pleasure.

  “Mrs. Campbell!” he greeted enthusiastically. “Are you back in Dornoch? Are you here for Betty?”

  I smiled. “Not today.”

  Barnabas’s gaze drifted from me to Nathan. Barnabas frowned. “Who are you?”

  “Nathan is a friend of mine,” I interjected.

  “Friend,” Barnabas huffed.

  “Bodyguard,” I clarified.

  “Bodyguard,” Barnabas repeated and then nodded. “Aye. Well, come on in, I just put on water for tea.”

  He waved us inside to the cozy interior and shut the door. He ambled towards the kitchen and we followed.

  “Sorry to drop by unannounced,” I said. The kitchen was surprisingly modern despite the architecture of the house. Gray granite and steel made up the decor.

  Barnabas moved around the kitchen, grabbing three mugs for tea. “Not a worry. It’s been a while since I’ve had visitors. It’s a nice change to talk to people instead of sheep, ye ken.”

  My heart contracted. I never realized Barnabas lived alone or that he could be lonely.

  Barnabas finished making our tea and handed us mugs. “I have some biscuits if you’d like.”

  “Oh, no, that’s—”

  Before I could finish, Barnabas put a plate of fluffy biscuits on the counter. Nathan had no qualms about filching one. He made an appreciative noise and then devoured the thing in two bites.

  Barnabas seemed pleased, his blue eyes warm. “Now lass, I know you’re not just here for a visit. What can I do for you?”

  I thought about how to phrase my question, but then I realized the Scots were blunt and preferred that method of communication.

  So I let it rip.

  “I wanted to talk to you about your grandson.”

  “Bobby?”

  “No.”

  “Lachlan.”

  “No.”

  “Ang—”

  “Edward,” I interrupted, wondering how many grandsons he had.

  Barnabas’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you want to be talking about Edward?”

  Well, here went nothing. I took a deep breath. “Because I think he’s trying to take over the SINS.”

  Chapter 58

  Tension filled the room. Barnabas’s welcoming gaze closed off, and I worried that he would refuse to speak about his grandson. But he surprised me.

  “That good-for-nothing lout,” Barnabas declared vehemently. “We don’t speak of him.”

  “We?” I asked softly.

  “The family. We’ve disowned him.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” he blustered. “Because he’s caused us nothing but trouble. Always in and out of scrapes with the law. Arrogant, prideful beast—all because we’re descendants of Charles Edward Stuart. Bonnie Prince Charlie as he’s called.” He shook his head in disgust. I didn’t know if it was over his grandson, or Prince Charles’s derogatory nickname.

  “Calls himself Edward Roehenstart. Pompous ass,” Barnabas muttered.

  “There are no records that Charles Edward Stuart—Count Roehenstart—had any children,” I said.

  “No records? I’ll show you records.” Barnabas jumped up from his chair and left the kitchen. Nathan and I eagerly followed, exchanging a look.

  Barnabas went into the den and headed to the far wall bookshelf. He plucked a leather-bound book from the middle shelf and brought it to me. “This bible once belonged to Prince Charles Stuart and has been passed down through the generations.” He flipped open the cover and showed me the list of names and birthdates. My heartbeat escalated when I saw the name ‘Augustus Stuart’, illegitimate son of Count Roehenstart.

  Barnabas grinned wryly. “We’re from a long line of bastards, ye ken.”

  I let out a laugh.

  “Still breed some, too,” he said sadly. “Broke my daughter’s heart when we realized Edward had his own ideas about how things should be. Zealous. He changed his name to Roehnstart, wanting the world to recognize the line he comes from. Not that it’s substantiated. Not officially anyway.”

  “So I’m guessing your grandson believes leading the SINS is his due?”

  “Arrogant bastard—he has no idea what it means to be a leader. Malcolm was a good leader.” He patted my arm, even though I felt like I needed to be the one to comfort him.

  “Campbell’s not bad either,” he added.

  I smiled at his diplomacy but there were more important mattered to discuss. “Barnabas, do you have any idea where Edward could be?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, lass. I wish I knew more.”

  After saying goodbye to Barnabas, Nathan and I left. As we drove away from the farm, Nathan asked, “You trust him?”

  “There’s no guile in him,” I said with assurance. “If he knew where Edward was, he’d have told us. He doesn’t like his grandson anymore than we do.”

  Our mission
completed, we returned to the castle to pack up. I called Flynn to let him know how it went and that Nathan hadn’t even had to pull out his gun.

  Next, I called Don Archer. He didn’t answer, and I left a message for him to call me immediately, no matter the time. I wanted this finished. I was tired of living with a cloud of fear over my head.

  Before we left Dornoch to drive to Edinburgh, we stopped off to say hello to Glenna. She pushed three baby sweaters on me for Hawk and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Much to Nathan’s surprise, he got a sweater of his own.

  “Those Highland sheep sure are warm,” Nathan said, adjusting the collar of his new sweater.

  “Aye, they are,” Glenna said with a smile.

  “And this was made in Dornoch?” he asked.

  Glenna nodded. “But that particular sweater was made from the fleece of sheep in Lairg.”

  I frowned. Lairg. Something familiar about that town name…

  We said goodbye to Glenna and settled in for our drive to Edinburgh. It wasn’t until we were back in Belfast that something clicked into place. When I’d spoken with Winters back when Hawk was missing, I’d met him just outside of Lairg. But we’d driven an hour or so away to a cabin in the Highlands. Though I didn’t know the exact location, was it still possible to narrow down where I had been taken? Google maps were able to show street views, for crying out loud! What if Arlington was hiding out in Lairg? What if The Pretender was hiding there, too?

  “You can take a deep breath now,” I said to Flynn as I leaned over to kiss him hello. My mind was active with wanting to explore my intuition. But I pushed it away and picked up Hawk who’d been having a nap on Flynn’s very comfortable chest.

  “Nothing happened,” I stated.

  “I’m glad.”

  “No shootouts, no bad guys jumping out from behind any corners.”

  “Barrett,” he sighed. “Be quiet and kiss me again.”

  I did as commanded, loving the shape of his mouth, the taste of his lips. I pulled back. “So question.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “How many times have you been shot?”

  “I think six.”