Hooked on Ewe

by Hannah Reed

  My delusional mind wanted to believe that I was safer if I didn’t mention the murder. The rational side knew it was way too late to walk away alive. I didn’t have anything to lose that Oliver didn’t plan on taking away regardless.

  “So you stole Harry’s yarn kit and used the yarn to strangle her,” I finally blurted out. “What about Lily’s part? What about the cupcake? Were you two in it together?”

  Oliver looked confused. “What cupcake? Ye’re blathering, woman.”

  So Lily had acted on her own. I took another step closer. “The one that contained sleeping pills. The one Isla ate.”

  Oliver, still wary, looked thoughtful then enlightened. “So that’s why she was such a wet rag, just lying aboot when I got in the van tae take care o’ that business.”

  I was close enough, but I was shaking and not sure I could aim properly. But I had to. And I also had to make sure I didn’t get so near that he could grab me.

  “So wha’ about coming up, love?” he asked, his voice silky.

  “I don’t think so.”

  His face reddened then. “Ye’re about tae go fer a swim whether ye like it or not.”

  I chose that moment to lunge forward, whipping my hand out, nearly hitting the button on the spray can. But Oliver had anticipated some kind of action on my part and he ducked out of sight.

  Without considering the consequences of my actions, I hurried up the steps onto the deck. He was forward of the cockpit now. I swung the spray can toward him but hesitated. Not only was he too far away, the blowback from the spray might affect me as much or worse.

  Oliver seemed to be enjoying himself. “Ye are feisty,” he said, laughing, “but that silly little can o’ spray won’t save ye.”

  I backed up closer to the wheel, not taking my eyes from Oliver. Behind him, the shoreline was barely visible in the distance.

  I wedged in behind the steering wheel, realizing with something close to despair that I didn’t know how to operate a boat. But I had to try. I glanced down at the instruments and gadgets, and my spirit dove into that deep blue sea I’d been avoiding. I could hardly manage a manual car—how was I going to hold off Oliver and learn to drive his boat at the same time?

  While I worried, he stayed where he was, as alert as a wolf about to attack a helpless sheep.

  “Stay where you are!” I shouted, holding the canister at the ready.

  “And how long do ye expect this little standoff tae last?” he asked.

  That was a good question. Eventually Oliver would rush me. I might have time to use my spray, but that might only slow him down. He had a lot of weight on me. And his arms under the sport shirt he wore were buff. I hadn’t noticed that before. He’d overpower me, and nobody would ever find my body.

  I chanced another glance down at the instruments, at the key dangling in the ignition, and gave my chances of pulling this off a moment of discouraging consideration. The odds were against me.

  Suddenly I heard static and spotted a marine radio lying right in front of me. Voices over the waves, someone talking about docking at the harbor. I’d seen marine radios before, but I’d never used one. Could I figure out how to operate it?

  When I picked it up, Oliver made his move. He came in low, guarding his head like a bull charging. He was too fast, too close to risk taking me down with the spray.

  I didn’t know what to do.

  So, radio in hand, I jumped overboard.

  I had everything I needed—a radio to call for help, a life jacket to keep me afloat, and most dear to me, my life. I braced myself. The water was colder than I had imagined it could be.

  I didn’t even know if the radio was waterproof. But it had to be, right? Sure enough, as the life jacket deflected the force of my landing, the radio crackled to life. I fiddled with the dials, one eye on Oliver’s position. Even if this were the States, I wouldn’t know what channel to use.

  I kicked off my shoes as the boat roared to life.

  Swimming came naturally to me. I’d been on a competitive team in high school, had worked as a lifeguard in the summers, and generally swam like a fish. Although I’d never been chased by a mega-horsepower cruiser before. Not to mention that the vest would slow me down significantly. I wanted to keep it as a flotation device, but it was a serious handicap, one I couldn’t afford.

  I struggled out of the vest, reluctantly let go of it, and began swimming for the distant speck of a shoreline. I didn’t get far before Oliver brought the boat around. He headed directly for me.

  As the boat approached, I took a deep breath of precious air and dove under. The underbelly of the cruiser flew past, shockingly near. I resurfaced and treaded water while fumbling with the radio.

  Oliver was coming around again. I pressed the buttons and started calling into it for help. I didn’t know if anyone could hear me, but I kept going, giving my name, and Oliver’s name, shouting into it that I was overboard a good distance from Glenkillen—and then switched to straight out yelling into it, “Help! Help! Oliver Wallace is trying to kill me!”

  The boat rushed at me again, and again I prepared to dive. But I could feel myself tiring. I now regretted ditching the life vest, but I hadn’t had a choice.

  I dove again, staying under until my lungs were about to burst, watching Slip Away finish another pass. Then I popped up and continued swimming toward shore. To my increasing horror, it wasn’t any closer.

  I readied to take another dive on the next run, refusing to acknowledge my weary limbs. But instead of throttling up, Oliver cut the power and came up slowly drifting alongside me. The boat bobbed on the waves.

  “I can do this all day,” I told him, even though we both knew it was a lie. “I used the radio to call in. Someone will be looking for me soon. They know you’re trying to kill me.”

  I treaded water, holding the radio up where Oliver had a good view of it, while really hoping I wasn’t bluffing. But if anyone had heard, how long would it take them to find me?

  Oliver didn’t know what to do. I could tell he was torn.

  Should he do me in? Or not? Had my distress call gone through? Or hadn’t it? Would I be able to continue to evade him? A dilemma.

  “Come around the back,” he said, evil lurking in his eyes. “Come on, then. I’ll help ye back on board and we can talk this out.”

  I paddled around to the back of the boat where there was a ladder to make climbing on board easier. He was there to meet me, extending an arm, offering a hand. I gave him my right hand and felt the strength contained in his grasp as he pulled and my body popped out of the chilly sea.

  And as I swung up, I rounded with as much force as I could, swinging my dominant left hand. And I stabbed him directly in the thigh.

  He stumbled back, his face registering shock as I pulled the knife clear, feeling it rip through his flesh. Attacking him like that was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done.

  My original idea had been to target his torso, but the life jacket he wore was an obstacle, and I couldn’t risk failing on my first attempt. It would have been my last.

  And if it was to be my life or Oliver’s, I planned to fight until the bitter end.

  He fell then, grabbing his thigh, tucking it against his body and screaming. I scrambled on board and ran past his prone body to take control of the steering wheel. The engine was idling and miracle of miracles, I figured out how to get it into forward gear. I kept one eye on Oliver only a few yards away and gave a firm command to stay where he was if he didn’t want more of the same.

  With the knife in my hand still dripping with his blood, I turned toward shore.

  Where I ended up ramming right into the end of one of the piers.

  That drew plenty of attention. Several experienced boaters came hurrying down what was left of the dock.

  Soon after, thankfully, I was relieved of my post at the
helm.

  CHAPTER 27

  A week later, Sean’s going-away party was held at the Kilt & Thistle. The pub was full of all the local residents who wanted to wish him good luck at police college. Vicki stood at his side as he greeted and preened. She glowed with good health and spirits. My friend was going to miss Sean, but she’d be busy with her Merry Mitten project, and that would help the time pass until he returned.

  All of us were relieved when Isla Lindsey’s murder investigation had been wrapped up before Sean’s departure, as he’d threatened to postpone his training if the case was still ongoing when he was due to leave.

  Once the inspector had located and recovered close to one hundred twenty thousand pounds locked up in an access panel under Slip Away’s pilot berth, Oliver Wallace sang like a canary. The only place Oliver would slip away to at this point was lockup. Not only did he face murder charges for the death of Isla, but attempted murder as well for what he’d tried to do to me. I was looking forward to testifying on my behalf.

  Oliver’s past came out. He’d been the black sheep of his family, squandering his own money in unwise, ill-timed investments before marrying into wealth. When the marriage was over, Oliver had had a comfortable bank account once more but again managed to lose his proverbial shirt (which would have included his beloved cruiser) to the bank. Then the opportunity to manipulate Isla presented itself, and he took full advantage of her. Some of the funds stolen from the hospice had been used to stave off creditors, but everyone had been grateful for the return of most of it. Unfortunately, it was at the expense of Isla Lindsey’s life.

  Lily Young had her own legal problems. She’d been charged with endangerment and obstruction for her part. “And tae think I was protecting him from suspicion and never once thought he had a hand in the poor woman’s death!” Lily had told us under further questioning. “All I got out o’ it was a bad sunburn.”

  So she was in big trouble, all because of a man, and one who wasn’t worth a second glance, let alone losing her freedom over. Some of us have to learn everything the hard way.

  The pub continued to fill up with well-wishers. Charlotte Penn arrived, as did Senga Hill, whose good name had been restored along with a position at the hospice managing the accounts. Harry Taggart came soon after, and I had no qualms about asking him for help.

  “I’ll be happy tae teach ye tae knit,” he told me when I explained my predicament. “An’ I’m considerin’ coming out in public with my own knitting projects. Vicki tells me the women will be all over me. I hadnae considered that before!”

  Bryan Lindsey and his sister Andrea made an appearance. They didn’t stay long, but took time to thank each of us for our role in catching Isla’s killer. Word had gotten out about Isla’s part in embezzling from the hospice. Bryan and Andrea were embarrassed and ashamed of her actions. The locals did their best to put them at ease, but it would take time. It even came out that the brother and sister had secretly suspected each other, and both were relieved when the real culprit was in custody.

  Even Kirstine and John Derry came to see Sean off. Vicki hadn’t expected them. Neither had I. It was an encouraging show of support.

  “And what would we do without Bill Morris sitting in his regular spot?” Vicki said to me. “It wouldn’t feel right in the pub without him.”

  I glanced over. Bill was three sheets to the wind, as usual.

  Vicki frowned then announced, “Almost everyone who counts is here. But I thought the inspector would come round. He must have been held up.” Her face lit up. “Ah, there’s our Leith.”

  Following her line of sight, I saw Leith approaching. He shook Sean’s hand, wished him well, greeted Vicki, then turned to me.

  “The pier will be salvageable,” Leith told me, grinning. “We worked on it today. Thank ye kindly fer avoiding my boat.”

  “You’re welcome.” I returned his grin.

  “Ye’re about as good with a boat as ye are with a car.”

  “For your information, I haven’t totaled any cars,” I said, thinking, Not yet, anyway.

  Leith still had a big smile, enjoying himself. Self-assured as always. “Ye sure do have a temper. Wallace found that out quick enough.”

  “Only when my life is threatened.”

  “And ye’re resourceful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I was thinkin’ tomorrow would be a fine day fer another boat ride. I know ye just had a scare on the water, but ye need tae get back out there.”

  “Like falling off a horse? You have to get right back on?” What was it about this Scotsman that always put a smile on my face?

  “Aye,” he replied. “Get right back on.”

  “I’d like that,” I told him.

  “Ye can be my first mate,” he went on.

  We both laughed at that. I was definitely not crew material. Kelly would be more helpful than I could possibly be.

  Shortly before the festivities began, I’d tucked away in the back of the pub with my laptop and responded to several e-mails that had arrived in my in-box. Ami and I had been in constant contact recently as I related the finer details of the murder investigation, and the final scene between Oliver and myself on the high seas.

  That had been the cause for plenty of concern from my friend back in Chicago. But I had survived unscathed, and after enough reassurance, Ami had settled down.

  “I’m as technology challenged as ever,” I’d written at the end of my narration. “The radio S.O.S. never went through, so it was a good thing I didn’t rely on outside help arriving in time.”

  “Scottish intrigue!” she wrote back. “What a story!! Speaking of stories, do you think you will be able to finish a rough draft of Hooked on You by the end of December? Once you get back to Chicago, I’d be happy to go over it with you. Is that doable, what with all the extracurricular activities you’ve taken on?”

  Yes, I could easily whip up a first draft by the end of the year. I had almost three months to work on it. I intended to stay focused, work hard, and still find time to have a little fun.

  Because my real life in the Highlands would be over before I knew it.

  And I wasn’t looking forward to that.

  As I stood beside Vicki, I glanced around the room, appreciating the new friends I’d acquired in my time in the Scottish Highlands. I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. And I had Ami Pederson to thank for these past months. I owed her a boatload of gratitude.

  Almost at the very end when things were wrapping up, after Leith and most of the others had gone, the inspector finally made an appearance.

  “Work got me tangled up,” he told me, after first wishing his special constable the best of luck. “But I’m glad tae find ye still here. I still have visions o’ what might have happened tae ye if ye hadn’t kept yer wits about ye.”

  “Slamming into the dock was pretty witless,” I told him.

  “Ye handled yerself fine, in my opinion.”

  “Thanks.” That was high praise coming from the inspector. “The only thing I’m still struggling with in this whole unpleasant business is Isla’s reason for stealing. It was so senseless.”

  “She must o’ started small, then got bolder, thinkin’ she couldn’t be caught, all the while justifyin’ her actions by tellin’ herself that her service was worth the extra. I’ve seen it before in my line o’ work.”

  I nodded, realizing how much I had to learn about people and their motives.

  “On a pleasanter note,” he said next, “I thought ye might like tae see some o’ the Highland sights while the weather still permits it. The leaves turning on the trees will make fer a pretty drive. How would ye like tae take a trip over to Loch Ness? We might spot Nessie before she goes deep intae her winter place.”

  “So, it’s a she?”

  “Aye. A male wouldn’t be nearly as wily an’ mysterious.”
>
  His intelligent eyes sparkled.

  “I’d like that,” I told him.

  What in the world was I getting myself into in the Scottish Highlands?

  I wasn’t sure, but I liked it.

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