by Terri Reid
Mary hung up the phone and turned to Ian. “Your accent seemed suddenly more pronounced,” she said.
“Aye, I was trying to be more intimidating,” he said. “Do you think it worked?”
She grinned. “Well, we can go over there right now. So, yes, it worked.”
“Before we go,” he said, and then paused. “I feel like such a lass asking you this.”
“What?”
Ian slipped off the oversized zip-up sweatshirt he’d been wearing. Mary’s eyes widened as she inspected his long-sleeve black spandex turtleneck that clung tightly to his skin and emphasized every one of his ripped abs.
“Oh, my,” Mary said, feeling suddenly warm. “That’s a very nice shirt.”
“Jeannine told me to wear something to emphasize my assets,” he said.
“So, you don’t have any spandex leggings to go with the shirt?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ian blushed. “I’ll not be made fun of,” he said defensively, picking up the sweatshirt. “I can just as easily put this back on.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just teasing you. You look very good. Actually, you look sinfully good. And if Mercedes is as man hungry as Jeannine suggests, she won’t be able to think straight once she gets a look at you.”
“You won’t be telling anyone about this?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Oh, no, Ian. You’re secret is safe with me.”
A few minutes later, Mary and Ian were standing in front of Mercedes’ home. Mary was carrying a plate of cookies and Ian was right behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m being an impatient Scot,” he whispered into her ear. “Besides, I’m freezing to death. How do you live in these temperatures?”
She laughed. “We’re tough and we have thick blood,” she said, turning her face up to his.
The door started to open and Ian slid one hand up, cupped Mary’s face and placed a kiss on her lips. “Darling, we could quickly slip home and warm each other up,” he said.
Mary grinned at him, comforted by the fact that although he was a very good kisser, she didn’t feel any of the emotion she did when Bradley kissed her. “Sweetheart, I believe someone’s answered the door.”
Ian looked up and smiled at Mercedes. “Ah, well then, you can’t blame a man for trying, now, can you?” he asked with a wink.
“No,” she responded. “And if I were your wife, I wouldn’t have cared who was opening the door.”
“Aye, but if I had my way, she’d never get out of bed at all,” he said with a shrug. “So, it’s a good thing one of has a bit of restraint.”
“Oh,” Mercedes responded, her face turning red. “I suppose so.”
Mary stepped forward and extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Mary,” she said. “Thank you for letting us come by.”
She gently nudged Ian with her elbow.
“Oh, aye, I’m Ian,” he said, shaking her hand. “We do appreciate your time.”
“Well, why don’t we all come inside,” Mercedes said.
The house looked like something out of an Architectural Design magazine with polished wood, smoky glass and modern furnishings. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen,” Mercedes suggested. “I’d like you to meet my husband, Harvey.”
“That would be lovely,” Mary said. “We brought some cookies to apologize for our last minute request to see you.”
“Oh, it’s no...,” Mercedes started to say, and then Ian slipped out of his coat.
She swallowed and her eyes focused on his chest. “No problem at all,” she said mechanically.
Ian smiled at her. “Is there a place for my coat,” he asked. “Or should I just slip it back on?”
“Oh, no!” she said, snatching it from him. “No need to put your coat back on. I’ll just hang it up for you.”
Jeannine appeared next to Mary and chuckled. “What did I tell you? She’s a pushover for a pretty face.”
“I didn’t notice her staring at his face,” Mary whispered.
Ian glared at Mary.
“So, Mercedes,” Mary said, hefting the plate. “The kitchen?”
“Oh, sweetheart, let me take those,” Ian said, stepping forward and relieving Mary of the plate. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”
“Her condition?” Mercedes asked.
“Well, we’ll be looking for a house with a nursery,” Mary said.
Ian slipped his arm around Mary, pulled her close and laid a kiss on her forehead. “Aye, she’s making me the happiest of men,” he said.
Mercedes sighed. “Well, come this way and meet...,” her voice went flat, “Harvey, my husband.”
They walked down a long hallway and into a rustic-looking kitchen with a stone floor, a commercial oven, a large double stainless steel refrigerator, granite counter tops and smoked glass cabinets.
“Wow, this kitchen is stunning,” Mary said, “Do you do a lot of cooking?”
Harvey snorted. “The only thing Mercedes can cook up is the phone number to the take-out places in town.”
“Aye, so you’re the chef, then,” Ian said.
“No, the kitchen’s just for show,” he said. “But you have to admit, it looks impressive.”
Ian smiled. “It does.”
“Harvey, this is Mary and Ian MacDougal,” Mercedes said. “They’re living in the Alden place for a while until they find their own home.”
“So, you’re neighbors,” Harvey said, shaking their hands. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Ian placed the plate on the table and helped Mary on to a stool next to the island. “We brought cookies,” he said. “Mary’s grandparents are staying with us for a bit and her grandmother is a genius in the kitchen. She’s made far too many for us.”
He patted his tight stomach, “I’m afraid I’m putting on weight.”
“Not that you’d notice,” Mercedes said. “So, Mary, your grandmother made the cookies. Does that mean you don’t cook either?”
“Well I dabble in the kitchen,” she said.
“Ach, don’t let her modesty fool you,” he said. “She’s brilliant in the kitchen.”
He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on the palm. “She’s brilliant in every room of the house.”
“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t we Ian?” Jeannine said.
Ian winked at her.
“So, what’s the housing market like here?” he asked Mercedes. “I’d like to set up some appointments for next week, if possible.”
“Oh, yes, that would be fine,” she replied. “We have a lot of suitable houses. I just have to know your price range. I’m assuming a first year professor.”
Ian laughed. “Well, aye, it’s my first year here,” he said. “But I’m on loan from the University of Edinburgh. And if I were back home, we’d be living on my estate near Perth. It’s a drafty pile of rocks, but it’s home.”
Mary chuckled. “What he meant to say is his pile of rocks sits on about 190 acres of land and is commonly known as a castle with stables, a dower house, a chapel and about four other buildings. But really, we don’t need anything nearly as fancy here in the States.”
“Oh, I see,” Mercedes said. “So, you will be looking for an executive home.”
“Aye,” Ian said. “And my first concern is security. I’m not taking any chances with Mary.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about security in this area,” Mercedes insisted. “Why we have one of the lowest crime rates in the state.”
“And yet Bradley’s wife was taken from his home only eight years ago,” Ian said. “That doesn’t worry you?”
“He’s got a point there, Dee,” Harvey said to his wife. “You just never know about some things.”
“She didn’t get taken,” Mercedes said. “She ran away. Everyone knew she was having an affair. Only poor Bradley was unaware.”
“Oh, that’s odd,” Mary said. “I hadn�
�t heard the mystery had been solved.”
Mercedes shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want to be found it’s very easy to disappear in the United States.”
“I’ve met Bradley,” Ian said. “Doesn’t seem like the kind of fellow a woman would run away from.”
“Well,” Mercedes purred. “Some women can’t handle that much man.”
“Rip her hair out for me, Mary,” Jeannine said, “All the way to her gray roots.”
“Speaking of Bradley,” Mary said, deciding it was wise to change the subject. “He told us you had won some awards in real estate. Ian didn’t even realize there were such things.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s an Olympic sport,” he said. “Do they really give awards for selling houses?”
Mercedes stiffened. “Well, not just for selling houses,” she said, “For selling millions of dollars’ worth of houses.”
“Aye, and that’s a fair number of houses here in the States, is it?” he asked.
“Yes, they are prestigious awards,” she replied.
“And do they look like wee mansions?” Ian asked, “The awards I mean.”
“I could show them to you, if you’d like,” she said. “They’re in my office.”
He turned to Mary. “Do you mind, darling, we won’t be but a moment.”
She smiled. “No, I’ll be fine,” she said. “And Harvey and I can get better acquainted.”
He placed a kiss on her cheek. “Think of me.”
“Good grief,” Jeannine said. “Really, Ian, this is too much.”
Ian chuckled and followed Mercedes out of the room.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Harvey offered.
“Some water would be perfect,” Mary replied.
Harvey walked across the room to get a glass from the cabinet and Mary turned to Jeannine. “Do you recognize any of the baskets?” she whispered, motioning to a shelf displaying a number of woven baskets.
Jeannine glided over to the shelf and took her time looking at the various baskets. In the meantime, Harvey came back with a glass of ice water. “Thank you,” Mary said, taking a sip. “Did you know Jeannine?”
Harvey nodded. “Yeah, she was a sweetheart,” he said. “Bradley was a lucky guy. If I had a woman like that in my life, I’d never let her go.”
Mary smiled. “Yes, but you have a lovely wife too,” she said. “Mercedes seems so...energetic.”
Harvey shrugged. “Well, Mercedes is the kind of woman who is not content with just one man,” he said. “And I guess I’ve accepted that.”
Mary saw the hurt on his face and instinctively placed her hand on his for comfort. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That must be difficult sometimes.”
He looked down at her hand covering his and then looked up in her eyes. “Well, she lets me have my little hobbies too,” he said, placing his other hand on top of hers. “Some women wouldn’t put up with my, shall I say, unusual habits. I would be happy to show them to you someday. I keep them in the basement.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Ian and Mary arrived back at the house at the same time Rosie and Stanley were making their way back up the driveway. No one said a word; they all just hurried inside and waited to speak until the door was firmly closed behind them.
“We know who did it,” they all said simultaneously.
“No, we know who did it,” they argued in chorus.
“No! We know who did it,” they emphatically stated.
“Okay, stop!” Mary yelled. “This is not getting us anywhere.”
“You’re right,” Stanley said. “‘Specially since half of this room is wrong.”
“Oh, I thought we were right, Stanley,” Rosie said.
Stanley rolled his eyes. “No, Rosie, we are the ones who are right. They are wrong.”
Rosie sighed with relief. “Well, good, because I really would hate to have put up with that horrid place only to realize we were wrong.”
“There ain’t no way on earth we’re wrong,” Stanley said.
“Well, I don’t know what your experience was like,” Ian said, taking his coat off and hanging it up. “But I was very nearly mauled by an oversexed she-cat, just so Mary could have a few minutes alone with Harvey and find out that he did it.”
“Maybe iffen you didn’t wear shirts that showed off your man boobies the women wouldn’t act so crazy,” Stanley said, then he grabbed the lapels of his brushed cotton flannel shirt. “You should wear respectable shirts like mine.”
“I don’t know,” Rosie said, with a shy smile at Ian. “I really like his shirt.”
“Why don’t we all just sit down,” Mary suggested. “And then we can talk about our experiences.”
They settled in the living room, Rosie and Stanley sharing the love seat, Mary in the recliner and Ian on the couch in front of the computer.
“Do you think we ought to have Sean and Bradley share in the conversation?” Ian asked. “They might give us a different perspective.”
“Yeah, they can tell you that Rosie and I found the murderer,” Stanley said.
Ian placed a call through video conferencing to both Sean and Bradley, but only Sean answered.
“Hey, Ian, how’s it going?” he asked. “Nice shirt, by the way. Your man boobies are looking fairly fit.”
“Oh, and everyone’s a funny man today,” Ian said. “You’ve obviously been watching our conversation through the camera feeds...”
“What makes you say that?” Sean asked.
“Funny, Sean. Funny,” Ian said. “Now try to mature a little in the next few moments because we need you to listen to our various experiences and tell us what you think.”
“Okay, let’s hear what happened.”
Stanley and Rosie took turns explaining what happened to them at Bob’s house.
“What did you do when he invited you down to the basement?” Mary asked.
“Well, you know I would have gone down there iffen Rosie wasn’t there, needing my protection,” Stanley said.
“Oh, Stanley,” Rosie said, placing her hand on his leg. “That would have been so dangerous. I’m so glad you didn’t do it.”
He smiled at her and placed his hand over hers. “Don’t worry, girlie, I ain’t about to take any unnecessary risks. I’m finally realizing I got a whole lot to live for.”
Rosie blushed. “Oh, Stanley.”
Realizing the others were waiting for him, he cleared his throat loudly and continued. “As I was saying, Bob wanted us to go down to the basement with him to show us how he could prove Jeannine had been impregnated by aliens,” Stanley said. “I told him that Rosie and I would really like to come, but wouldn’t it better if we wore some kind of protective gear so our thoughts wouldn’t be susceptible to surveillance.”
“Wasn’t that brilliant of him?” Rosie asked.
“And luckily for us, he was out of aluminum foil,” Stanley said. “So, I think all we need to do is break into his house and check out the basement.”
“Well, done, Stanley and Rosie,” Sean said. “I agree with you this fellow could potentially be the kidnapper. However, usually in cases like this, when the perpetrator feels the victim could actually put him at risk, he tends to kill the victim immediately and not transport him to his own home. However, that’s not the case 100 percent of the time, so Bob sounds like a person of interest.”
“Yes, he does sound like he’s an excellent candidate,” Ian said. “And I can assure you that Mary and I did not have to put up with the kind of environment you were in. Although at least one of our hosts was not as gracious as yours.”
Ian and Mary related the events that occurred at Mercedes and Harvey’s house.
“So, why didn’t you go down to the basement with him?” Rosie asked.
“Well, Ian came rushing back into the room,” Mary said, trying to hide her smile. “His shirt was slightly askew and he looked like he’d been wrestling.”
“It’s not funny,” he said. “The woman is a men
ace, she thinks she’s irresistible and means to prove it.”
“Well, actually, having a woman like that paired with a partner who is little off-kilter could present another good scenario,” Sean said. “If Mercedes saw Jeannine as competition, she could have encouraged Harvey’s fantasies.”
“So, what do you suggest we do next?” Mary asked.
“Well, I’ll run the records on these suspects,” Sean said. “Anyone else on your list you want me to check?”
“No,” Mary said. “It seems like Gary is simply a harmless, lonely man. I think he fell off the suspect list once we met the other people on the list.”
“It’s just as easy for me to check out four as it is three,” Sean said.
Mary shrugged. “Okay, sure, check out Gary Copper. He’s a dentist out here.”
“So, what do we do while Sean runs their records?” Stanley asked. “I don’t want to just do nothing when we are this close.”
Rosie smiled and clapped her hands. “Oh, I know,” she said. “We should have a dinner party, like they do in the Agatha Christie mysteries. Bring everyone together and see how they react with each other. Maybe we can drop some kind of bombshell and see how they react.”