by Amy M. Reade
“Will I be able to come back here later today?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. You’ll have to pack a bag and bring it with you.”
My knees began to shake. I sat down again. “Just one night?”
“Just as long as it takes.”
“What about nursing Ellie?”
“Your husband can buy some formula and give it to the baby. Don’t worry.”
I held my head in my hands and started to rub my face again, but remembered suddenly that Dr. MacDonald found that behavior suspiciously unhealthy. I stopped abruptly and looked up at him. “Can I talk to Ellie on the phone tonight?”
“You won’t be able to have your mobile phone with you, but you can use one of the phones at the center.”
“What center?”
“That’s where we’re going. Pack a bag and we’ll get started.”
He left the room again, but didn’t close the door behind him. He’s watching to make sure I don’t jump out the window.
I felt around in my handbag for my mobile phone, but it wasn’t there. Neill must have taken it when I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t even call my mother and ask for help. I wondered if I could call her from the center. I could pretend I was talking to Ellie and hopefully she would realize something was wrong. I felt a glimmer of hope.
Once my bag was packed, I left with Dr. MacDonald. He must have believed I wasn’t a physical threat to him because I sat next to him in the front seat as we drove away down Candlewick Lane. Tears streamed down my face as I imagined how Ellie would react when she realized I wasn’t there at bedtime. I made a choking sound trying to stop crying and the doctor glanced over at me.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything will be fine.”
But everything wasn’t fine.
CHAPTER 13
Neill’s mother stood in the doorway, blocking the narrow space between the door and the jamb.
“What’dye want?”
“Hello, Janet. I’ve come to talk to you and Alistair about Neill and Ellie.”
“We haf not heard a word. So be off wi’ yourself.” She began to close the door. I reached out and stopped her.
“Wait, Janet. Please. I’m sure you know they’re in Edinburgh. I’m trying to find them.”
“And whit d’ye want me tae do about it?”
“I want to know what you’ve heard, what Neill may have told you or Alistair, where they may be staying. Anything.”
“We don’t know anything. And we wouldnae tell you if we did.”
“Janet, your granddaughter is in danger. And so is your son. If I can find them, if I can learn more about the reason he’s in trouble, then maybe I can help him.”
An ugly scoffing sound erupted from her throat. “You? Help him? He wouldnae want your help.”
“I think he does. He’s in real trouble this time, Janet, and he has Ellie with him. If I can help him, he’ll be off the hook, and Ellie will be safe.”
There was a faint noise behind Janet, and she bent her head around the door to talk to someone.
She turned her baleful gaze toward me again and opened the door a little more, sighing. “Ye may as well come in.” I cast a backward glance toward the car before disappearing into the gloom of the old house.
“Who’s that?” Janet demanded, following my gaze.
“A friend from Edinburgh who’s helping me look for Ellie and Neill.”
“A friend, eh?” she sneered.
“Yes. A friend.” I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.
I followed her to the sitting room, a cold, dank space to the left of the front door. She gestured toward the horsehair couch, which I remembered as being unbearably dusty and uncomfortable. I sat down on its slippery surface and glanced around, noticing with surprise the painting that hung over the mantel. I knew that painting—it was the McTaggart. The one from the third floor.
Janet sat down in a straight-backed ladder chair across the room from me, staring at me, obviously waiting for me to say something.
I cleared my throat. “As I said, I’m sure you know Neill is hiding somewhere in Edinburgh. It seems he’s gotten himself into more trouble gambling. And the people who loaned him money are after him. And Ellie.
“I’ve been attacked twice now by the people who are looking for him. They think I know where he is. But even if I knew I wouldn’t tell them, because Neill has Ellie and I won’t do anything to put her in further danger.”
I waited for her to say something. She glanced sidelong to the doorway. I knew someone—probably Alistair—was over there, but I didn’t say anything.
“Well, I already told you I don’t know anything,” she said.
“Have the police been here to see you?”
“That’s none o’ yer business.”
So the police had paid the Gramercys a visit.
“Have you tried looking for Neill and Ellie yourself?”
“No.”
“But Ellie is your granddaughter. How can you live with yourself knowing she’s out there somewhere, in danger, and you’re not doing anything to help?”
“I live wi’ myself just fine, thank ye verra much.”
She glanced again at the doorway. “Is someone out there?” I asked.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” she cautioned abruptly. She got up and stalked out without a second glance at me. As the minutes passed and she didn’t return, I decided to ignore her warning. Walking quietly over the worn rugs scattered on the stone floor, I stoodin front of the mantel to gaze at McTaggart’s painting.
It was called The Village, Whitehouse. Several white cottages, some with thatched roofs, were portrayed along a dirt lane. A group of languid children sat on the ground at the end of the lane. The painting had been done in shades of tan, brown, yellow, chartreuse, ivory, white, and green. It was a perfect rendition of a lazy summer’s day, and I could practically feel the children’s lethargy.
Though the painting itself was in pristine condition, the frame was a dusty mess. I could see fingerprints in the dust and wondered why no one bothered to clean the frame around such a beautiful piece of art.
Eventually I heard a step in the hallway outside and I hurried to sit down again on the couch. Janet appeared in the doorway with my ex-father-in-law, Alistair. Both stared at me suspiciously for a moment, then Alistair crossed to a small old-fashioned settee, his tall, lanky frame folding in upon itself as he sat down.
“Have you heard from Neill?” I demanded, staring at Alistair.
“No,” Alistair answered.
“If you know anything and you haven’t told the police, there’ll be no end to the headaches for both of you.”
Alistair let out a noise that was something between a growl and a cough. “Don’t threaten us, lass.”
Janet had been looking at Alistair, but she turned her baleful gaze on me. “What have you heard from the police?” she asked.
“I thought I made it clear that I don’t know anything. If I did, you can be sure I would have Ellie back by now.” So that’s why they invited me into the house. They wanted information from me. “Could you do something for me? Could you give Neill a message if you hear from him before I do?”
“I don’t know about that. I don’t think he wants to hear from you,” Janet replied.
“He texted me!” I was losing my cool and needed to keep a level head to talk to my former in-laws. I knew what they were capable of doing, and I didn’t want to experience it again. “I know he wouldn’t ignore a message from me. Would you just think about it? Please? Tell him I can help him by giving him money or anything else he needs. Tell him I just want Ellie back so I can take her home. She’ll be safe there. The loan sharks want him. He’s the one they really want.”
Alistair looked at me from under his shaggy eyebrows. “We’ll think about it. Now you’d best be off before I change my mind about being so nice.”
Janet had other
ideas, though. She stood up and blocked my path to the front door. “Not so fast. Who is it in the car out there?”
Alistair sidled up to the small window overlooking the drive in front of the house and peered through the dingy curtains. “Well?” he asked.
“His name is James Abernathy and he is helping me look for Ellie and Neill. He drove me out here today because I don’t have a car in Edinburgh. He’s harmless, I guarantee you.”
Janet looked at me through narrowed eyes, doubt written all over her face. “Does he know Neill?”
“No.”
“Couldn’t you have gotten a car for hire?”
“Yes, but James offered to drive me and I accepted.”
“Hmm,” Alistair commented.
“Excuse me, please,” I said to Janet as I approached the front door. She stepped out of my way, and I reached for the doorknob, then turned around and tried appealing to her one last time. “Please, Janet, whatever has gone on between us, it has nothing to do with Ellie. I hope you’ll give my message to Neill if you hear from him.”
“We’ll think about it.”
“Thank you,” I said, nodding my head toward her. “I would appreciate it.”
“Don’t bother coming back,” Alistair warned as I stepped out into the bright sunlight.
I didn’t answer—I couldn’t make such a promise—and I walked quickly to James’s car. He started the engine when he saw me coming, and I slid into the front seat with a sense of relief.
“How’d it go?” he asked, easing the car down the drive.
“It was awful,” I answered. “They’re the most disagreeable people. I’m positive they know something, maybe even where Neill is staying, but they’re not telling.”
“What makes you think they know something?”
“Just a strong hunch. For one thing, Janet told me they haven’t tried to find Neill and Ellie. Even as awful as Janet and Alistair are, they wouldn’t just sit and wait for the police to find their son. They would look for him, too. Not only that, but they were pumping me for information. They want to know what I know. I’m guessing they want to report back to Neill. They can’t stand me. They have never forgiven me for eloping with Neill, though it was his idea.”
“You eloped?” James asked in surprise.
“Yes,” I said with a tired grin. “I don’t seem the type, do I?”
“Well, you rather strike me as the kind of woman who would like a proper wedding.”
“I did want one, but Neill talked me out of it. Said we could save the money for a down payment on a house.”
“And is that what happened?”
“Eventually. We lived in this squalid little place until we had saved enough money to buy a nice house just off campus where we both work. When he moved out, I took over the mortgage and Ellie and I still live in that same house.”
James nodded. “Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?”
“No, we can just head back into Edinburgh if you’d like.”
“Well, you promised me lunch, remember?” he asked.
“I did, didn’t I? Well, let’s stop somewhere. I’m starving!”
“I know just the place,” James said, pulling to a stop in the Gramercys’ driveway before turning onto Candlewick Lane. He punched some numbers and letters into his navigator and watched as a map popped into view.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’ll see. But first, a stop at a market to get food. We’ll eat it when we get to the place I have in mind.”
I related the highlights of my visit with Neill’s parents as we drove. James didn’t pry into the reasons behind the acrimony between us, and I didn’t volunteer the information. We stopped at the local Sainsbury’s and bought food to share, then headed east. James finally revealed where we were headed—Inveresk Lodge Garden, a property maintained by the National Trust for Scotland and a place I’d heard of but never had a chance to visit.
We entered the charming village of Inveresk, where ages-old mansions hid behind tall stone enclosures resembling ancient fortresses. Shrubbery cascaded over the walls from green groves barely visible over the height of the stone. Tree boughs canopied the sidewalks, making the footpaths slightly mossy and damp-looking. We drove slowly, watching as the high walls came to an end and homes changed from the large seventeenth- and eighteenth-century dwellings obscured by trees to smaller and more humble houses of timber and stone built close to the road.
After our quick tour of the village, we turned around and easily found the Inveresk Lodge Garden entrance. Gathering our lunch, we ventured into the secluded garden with its conservatory, aviary, magnificent sundial, pebbled paths, and delightful border gardens. With our visit arriving on the cusp between autumn and winter, many of the plants and flowers were dormant, but we did glimpse a variety of yellow, orange, red, and purple berries waiting to be plucked by eager birds. I noticed the winter honeysuckle and Christmas box, which would soon fill the air with unexpected and luscious fragrances. James and I found a bench, and we sat and ate our lunch. The birds flitted around the gardens as the sun disappeared and reappeared again and again around the dark clouds scudding across the sky.
“Want to take a walk down the path?” James asked as we put away the remnants of our meal.
I really wanted to get back to Edinburgh to see if anyone had called or visited Bide-A-Wee house with information about Ellie, but I agreed. The gardens had a calming effect on me, and I didn’t mind lingering a bit to prolong that feeling of serenity.
James took my arm as we made our way down the sloping woodland path. At the bottom was a pond with several ducks gliding along its surface. A small family of rabbits loped in the grass nearby, probably readying their burrow for the coming winter.
Only one other person shared the idyll with us. She sat on a bench overlooking the small pond, a book in her hands and her head bent away from us. Her profile looked familiar.
As we walked slowly around the pond, James pointing out various birds in the nearby trees, I found myself casting several glances toward our fellow nature-lover. At one point she looked up toward James and me, startled by a sudden loud cry of a duck, and I was shocked. I must have let out a quiet gasp.
It was Neill’s sister, Beatrice. I stared at her as recognition slowly dawned on her face.
“What’s the matter?” James asked, following my gaze to the stranger. “Who is that? Do you know her?”
“Yes. That’s Neill’s sister,” I whispered.
“Is that a problem?”
“A wee one,” I answered. “She likes me about as much as her parents do.”
Beatrice had obviously decided against ignoring me. She reached into her handbag for a bookmark, placed it carefully in the book, and walked toward us, her face an unreadable blank canvas. Her brown hair hung in a long bob, framing her thin face.
“What are you doing here?” she greeted me, not even looking at James.
“My friend and I stopped here for lunch. I’ve just been to see your parents.”
“What did you want with them?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.
“I wanted to know if they have information about Neill and Ellie.”
“Hmm,” she replied. “And did they?”
“If they do, they’re not willing to share it with me.”
“Did you really expect them to?” she said, shaking her head. “You’re not exactly high on their list of favorite people, Greer.”
“I hoped they would,” I answered. Then I ventured to ask her, “Have you heard from Neill?”
“Och, you know how angry my parents would be if I had heard something and I told you,” she replied lightly.
Suddenly my heart started thudding against my rib cage. My breathing became shallow. My sweater felt too tight around my neck. I wheeled around, shook my head at the arm James offered, and ran off by myself. I could hear his hurried footsteps behind me on the grassy path, but I didn�
�t slow down.
“Greer, wait,” he called. “Are you all right?”
I stopped abruptly and turned to face him. He was so startled, he almost ran straight into me. “I’m sorry, James. I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I keep hitting dead ends. Neill’s family will stand shoulder-to-shoulder against me because I divorced Neill. Beatrice actually used to be nice to me, but she won’t do anything against her parents’ wishes. If they won’t tell me anything, she won’t either.” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, willing myself to calm down.
“Out of all the places we could have eaten lunch…” James began. “I wish we had just gone back to Edinburgh.”
I could see he was distressed over my chance meeting with Beatrice. I did the best I could to cheer him up. “Beatrice really isn’t so bad. She just needs to get a backbone. She’s a teacher, you know. I don’t know how she handles an entire classroom full of kids without the ability to stand up for herself. At least Neill’s brother, Gerard, wasn’t with her. Now that could have been unpleasant.”
He nodded. “The brother’s that bad too, eh? Well, I am glad you didn’t have to face that beastie alone.” We walked in silence for a few moments, then James turned to look at me.
“Was Neill’s family nicer before you married him?”
I shook my head ruefully. “I doubt it. If you can believe it, I never met them before eloping with Neill. After I met Janet and Alistair—and Gerard, of course—for the first time, I was convinced he wanted to elope just so I wouldn’t meet his family before getting married.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“He always denied it, but I never believed him. Let’s stop talking about Neill and his family, shall we?”
“With pleasure,” he said, reaching for my hand.
We walked in silence back to the car, then headed back toward Edinburgh under the darkening afternoon clouds. Before long rain was slashing at the car’s windscreen, making it difficult to see the road and the cars ahead. The weather matched my foul mood. James seemed to understand I didn’t want to talk, so he hummed quietly to himself most of the trip. We were driving into the city proper when the rain stopped, the clouds cleared, and the sun shone onto the streets of the city, wet and glistening.