Viking Vengeance

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Viking Vengeance Page 33

by Maggie Foster


  She saw Jim blink.

  “Those tears weren’t real?”

  She sighed. “They were real.”

  He ran his hand over the back of his head. “I think you’d better fill me in.”

  It took Ginny almost two hours to tell Jim everything that had happened since Angus had sent her off from Albany. He nodded as she explained about the dogsled crossing, then frowned as she described confronting the pirate and the search for Charlie along the Nova Scotia coastline.

  “I left you a dozen messages.”

  “I didn’t get them.” Ginny crossed her fingers on the half-truth. She hadn’t opened even one of the messages from the unknown number and she hadn’t seen any with Jim’s number.

  He leaned forward, his brow furrowing. “When you thought Charlie was dead, why didn’t you call me?”

  She looked at him, at his face, then sucked in a breath and told him. “Because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  He looked startled. “Why not?”

  “Because I had lost Charlie and I didn’t want to hear you say, ‘I-told-you-so.’”

  His eyes widened. “Christ, Ginny! Why would you think I’d say that?”

  “Because of what you said to me the last time we talked.” She sighed. “You were right. I failed my assignment. Angus shouldn’t have sent me off alone.”

  She saw him suck in a breath. “That was my idea.”

  “What was?”

  His brow furrowed. “I wanted to show you that I did trust you, even with something as important as this. So I asked Grandfather to send you on ahead, and to take Charlie with you. But I never intended you to have to do all the heavy lifting by yourself. I expected to catch up with you in Maine.”

  Ginny stared at him. His idea? He set her up? To prove he trusted her?

  “And I was wrong, that night.” Jim took a deep breath. “You didn’t fail, Ginny. You got him over the border. I had no idea how I was going to do that, not after he broke his leg. But you figured it out. As for that pirate, I’m really glad I wasn’t there. He would never have given in to another man. Not without a fight.

  “I wouldn’t have thought of the game finder, either. Or known how to sweet-talk the pawn shop owner and the motorcycle guy and the rent car proprietor into giving me the information I needed. If I’d been there, I would have been a liability, and I might not have been able to see that.”

  Ginny studied his face for a long moment. She hadn’t expected praise from Jim. She took a slow breath. “When Charlie was lost, I was angry with you, because you weren’t there to help me cope.”

  He gave her a half smile. “You didn’t need my help.”

  She frowned, remembering what Dr. Gordon had said. “We all need help, someone to support us, to remind us we can do what has to be done.” Charlie had helped her, had comforted her, had understood her. So had her cousin, Fergus. Could Jim? Would he?

  Jim’s smile faded. “It almost killed me, to see your face on that video and know you were alone and I couldn’t reach you.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to hurt like that again, but I’ve had to face the fact that what I want isn’t always the best thing for either of us.” He shook his head. “If I give in to fear, I won’t be able to function, not at the hospital, not at the Homestead.”

  “So you don’t want to shove me aside anymore?”

  He reached over and brushed her cheek with his fingertip. “Shall I tell you what my grandfather said to me, about you?”

  Ginny nodded.

  “He said you were like my mother, a Viking throwback, strong and brave and capable.” His gaze turned inward. “But she wasn’t strong enough, and I wasn’t there to save her.”

  Ginny shook her head. “Her death was not your fault.”

  “No, I know that. But I don’t want your death on my conscience either.”

  She moved over beside him and put her head down on his shoulder. His arms closed around her.

  “The one great truth of life,” she said, “is that we all die eventually. We can’t let that keep us from living.”

  He sighed. “There are times, after a bad shift, when I want to crawl into a hole and pull it in after me.”

  She nodded. “I know what you mean.” She looked up into his face. “If you become Laird, you’re going to need someone to lean on.”

  “Yes.” He pulled her tighter. “Someone I can trust. That’s you.”

  “Are you sure, Jim? Sure it’s me you really want? You don’t know me very well.”

  He pulled in a deep breath and Ginny felt his chest rise under her.

  “I believe every marriage starts in profound ignorance of the other person, of what they’re really like, and the only way for it to last is for both parties to want it to. It will take effort, and cooperation, and compassion, but I think we can make it work.” He gave her a hug. “Will you think about it?”

  She nodded, then yawned. She’d been running on adrenaline for more than twenty-four hours and the effort needed to convince Detective Tran that Charlie was dead had taken the last of her strength, but she couldn’t sleep yet.

  She climbed to her feet, staggering, and went over to lean against the window. Jim followed her, taking up a position behind her and wrapping his arms around her.

  “He’s still out there somewhere,” she said.

  “He’s a SEAL. He’ll find shelter.”

  Ginny stood looking out the window at the Yellow Jack, now cracking in the wind.

  “The storm’s getting worse.”

  * * *

  Chapter 52

  Saturday Wee Small Hours

  Halifax Homestead

  It was past midnight when Jim came slowly to consciousness. The room glowed with a pearl-colored light. It illuminated the furniture and the walls and the woman in his arms, turning her skin to alabaster. He had persuaded her to stretch out on the bed, to nap, and had lain down beside her, not realizing he, too, was on the point of collapse.

  “Did I wake you?” she murmured.

  “Yes.” He smiled, then rolled up on his side. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

  “I wanted to look at you.”

  “Have I changed?”

  “I think I’m the one who’s changed.”

  He saw her swallow.

  “Did you ever reach for something you wanted, Jim, then pull back because you were afraid touching would destroy it, like touching a soap bubble?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid, if I reach for happiness, it will vanish. And I don’t know if I could stand that again.”

  “I’m not a soap bubble, Ginny. I’m not going to disintegrate if you touch me.” Jim pushed himself upright, his back to the head of the bed, then slipped an arm under her and pulled her up beside him. He took a deep breath. “Is this about Hal?”

  She nodded.

  He sighed. “I wish I could erase the memory of what he did to you. He stole your innocence, your faith in mankind, your trust in men, and I hate him for it.”

  “If you hate him, it will poison you. That’s part of what I’m afraid of.”

  Jim nodded. The thing to do was forget him. “How about if I make you a promise? If you marry me, I promise to live every moment to the fullest, to love you and our children unconditionally, to support you and lean on you and never, ever to let my temper get in the way of our happiness again.”

  She smiled up into his face. “That sounds like a lovely soap bubble.”

  He smiled back. “Do you know who holds the world’s record for the longest lasting soap bubble?”

  She shook her head.

  “Sir James Dewar, Scottish chemist extraordinaire. His record is one hundred and eight days. He was studying surface tension.”

  He bent down and kissed her. “If anyone can make a soap bubble last a lifetime, we can.” He closed his arms around her, holding her to his heart until his stomach interrupted them.

  “Sorry about that. Are you hungry? We missed dinner.”
<
br />   She nodded.

  “Okay. Stay warm. I’ll be right back.”

  Jim climbed off the bed. He hadn’t undressed, so all he had to do was slip his feet into his shoes and he was ready. He let himself out into the hall, closing her door quietly behind him.

  There was no way to call the elevator silently and no staircase in evidence, so he simply composed his soul in patience and hoped no one was awake and watching. Not that he was doing anything wrong. Just a midnight snack and a long conversation with his intended.

  He exited the elevator and walked down the hall, passing windows that looked out onto the snow-lit night, trying to remember where he had seen the kitchen. He made two false starts, then found the right corridor.

  The kitchen door swung both ways on well-greased hinges that made almost no noise as he entered the room. He stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. There was no window in here, but there was something else.

  Jim’s skin crawled as he realized he could hear someone breathing. He slid his hand along the wall beside the door, hunting for the light switch, then felt himself grabbed from behind.

  There was a hand over his mouth and a strong male arm around his chest, pinning one arm down, but the other, the one that had been on the wall, was free. He used his elbow and drove it into the form behind him, hearing a satisfying ‘oof’ as a result. He broke free and turned rapidly, one hand finding and throwing the light switch, the other coming up, fist ready to continue the fight, and froze.

  “Charlie!” he hissed.

  “Jim!”

  The two of them grinned like idiots at each other, then did the male equivalent of a hug, punching each other on the shoulder and shoving each other off balance.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Jim demanded. “How did you get in? Why did you come in? Didn’t you get Ginny’s message? We’ve got to hide you.”

  Charlie nodded. “I got the message. Got hungry, and cold, so I decided to slip in, look around, then out again. Those windows need better locks.”

  “There might have been alarms.”

  Again Charlie nodded. “I disconnected the wires. Made it look like the ice had done it. Didn’t want anyone interrupting my midnight snack.”

  “That reminds me!” Jim looked around quickly, then grabbed a towel and started loading food into it. He shoved it at Charlie and started on a second load, including a glass of milk for Ginny.

  “We can’t use the elevators. There are cameras in them.”

  ‘’This way.” Charlie indicated another corridor. “Stairs.”

  The route was longer, and Jim couldn’t help noticing how difficult it was for Charlie to use his left leg, but they managed to get back to Ginny’s room without raising an alarm. Jim opened the door cautiously, slipped inside, then motioned for Charlie to follow him in. When Charlie was inside, Jim closed the door behind him and turned the lock. That sound triggered another.

  “Good evening, Mr. Monroe.”

  * * *

  Saturday Wee Small Hours

  Halifax Homestead

  Jim almost dropped the food and he did spill the milk, his hand jerking and the liquid sloshing over the rim of the glass. He turned to face the voice and was not surprised to see a movement in the moonlight, followed by the table lamp being turned on.

  If this had been a movie, the woman standing there would have had a gun in her hand and Ginny in a death grip, the muzzle to her temple. As it was, Detective Tran simply waited for the two men to recover.

  Charlie did so first. He limped across the room and put down the food, then pulled up a chair and sat down.

  Jim swallowed hard, then did the same, taking a moment to wipe the milk off his hand, and choosing to join Ginny on the side of the bed. He took her hand in his.

  Detective Tran looked at each of them in turn, then sat down on the edge of the couch, her back straight, her ankles crossed, her expression unreadable.

  “Would you care to explain?” she asked.

  Ginny spoke first. “I thought you believed he was dead.”

  Detective Tran nodded. “I did, until I heard a noise, looked out my window, and saw the signal. That flag was not there before your arrival. Dr. Mackenzie was inside the complex. The only person you could be signaling was Mr. Monroe.”

  Ginny nodded, sighing. “It was a calculated risk.”

  Detective Tran nodded. “That was quite a performance, Miss Forbes. May I ask how you accomplished it?”

  Ginny caught Jim’s eye. “It turns out a leopard can change her spots, if the need is great enough.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then looked at Detective Tran.

  “How did you know to come to Ginny’s room?”

  “After I saw the signal and realized what it must mean, I decided to keep watch. I saw Mr. Monroe’s unorthodox entry into the building and was following him when you came down the hall. Once you had joined forces, I was pretty sure I knew where you would go.” She looked over at Ginny. “I persuaded Miss Forbes of the inevitability of the confrontation and suggested she might want to get it over with.”

  Charlie sighed. “I’m the one you want. Let them go.”

  Detective Tran turned her eyes on him. “You are hurt.”

  He nodded.

  “But you went over the side anyway.”

  He nodded again.

  “Why?”

  Charlie shrugged. “I couldn’t save my own children, but I could try to save that boy.”

  She nodded slowly. “Why did you run?”

  “I’m an outlaw.”

  Detective Tran’s brow furrowed. “You have not been charged with anything.”

  “I have.”

  “I do not understand.” She looked from Charlie to Ginny.

  “You already know,” Ginny said, “that the Scots descend in part from the Vikings.”

  Detective Tran nodded.

  “You may also know the Viking justice system gave us the word for ‘law’, set up a jury of twelve men, and established the first parliament.”

  “The Althing.”

  Ginny nodded. “Among the concepts they came up with was a choice of punishments for those convicted of offenses. In the event of a death, as in this case, one could make monetary restitution to the injured party’s family. One could engage in a blood feud. Or one could be exiled—outlawed.”

  Detective Tran looked over at Charlie.

  Ginny continued. “The outlaw had to leave behind everything that was his—friends, job, family, all gone. Further, he lived under constant threat of being killed, lawfully, by anyone who went hunting for him. Sort of like the bounty hunter system we have now.”

  Detective Tran raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Monroe was outlawed by your community.”

  Ginny nodded. “Charlie was judged and convicted and sentenced under a system of laws that gave rise to the one you’ve sworn to uphold. He’s not escaping justice. He’ll suffer every day, for the rest of his life, for what he did.”

  “And you, and Dr. Mackenzie?”

  “We were assigned the task of throwing him out.”

  Detective Tran was silent for a long moment. “You mentioned blood feuds.”

  “It used to be that the injured party and the offender were allowed to work it out, blood for blood, but we don’t permit that any more. It was too easy for it to escalate to whole families, then whole communities. The solution was too costly.”

  “Why did you chose this archaic system of justice, rather than turn him over to the police?”

  Jim felt Ginny’s hand tighten within his. She took a deep breath. “The Texas criminal justice system released the man who killed Charlie’s family onto the streets of Dallas. Had it done its duty, there would have been no reason for him to act.”

  “Why Canada? Mexico was closer.”

  “We could not enforce the punishment without the help of the other Homesteads and there are none in Mexico.”

  Detective Tran turned to Charlie. “Is what Miss Forbes says true?”
/>   Charlie nodded. “All true.”

  “Do you regret your actions?”

  Jim held his breath and was sure Ginny was doing the same.

  Charlie sighed. “Yes. I’ve had some time to think about it and I wish now I hadn’t done it. I wasn’t thinking clearly. It just hurt so bad. I wanted to make him hurt, too, but I settled for making sure he couldn’t kill anyone else.” He spread his hands. “I know that’s no excuse. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused and I’m ready to take my punishment.”

  The room fell silent.

  Jim sat waiting for what Detective Tran would do next. She had them dead to rights. She knew, now, that Charlie was guilty of the murder back in Dallas, and that Jim and Ginny had been helping him escape.

  She sat quietly watching them, her eyes moving from one to another, then back again, spending the most time on Charlie. Eventually she stood up. The other three followed her lead, Charlie moving slowly and in obvious pain. She looked at him for another long moment then turned to Ginny.

  “Please make yourself available immediately after breakfast tomorrow to complete your statement. I must leave for the airport at ten o’clock.”

  Ginny nodded.

  Detective Tran looked at each of them one more time then let herself out, closing the door behind her.

  * * *

  Chapter 53

  Saturday Very Early Morning

  Halifax Homestead

  Ginny stared at the door, her blood curdling, then turned to face the other two. “What the hell do we do now?”

  Jim shook his head.

  Charlie dropped back into the chair and Ginny crossed the distance in three steps, suddenly furious. Didn’t he realize he’d destroyed Jim’s career?

  “Why did you ignore my signal?”

  Charlie looked up at her. “I’m sorry.”

  “If you’d just waited until she left, we’d all be in the clear. Just a few more hours!” Her heart was pounding, thinking about everything he’d put them through. How could he be so stupid, so selfish? “Maybe we can lower you out the window. You can have my car. Steal it! Run! You can still escape, even if we can’t.”

 

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