Ghosts of Culloden Moor 22 - Murdoch (Diane Darcy)

by L. L. Muir

  “No, thank you.”

  “Ah, now, come on. If you’re worried about the fact that we work together, there are no hard and fast rules about coworkers dating in this school district.”

  “Again, thank you, but no.” She ran through the list of excuses she’d come up with and decided he wasn’t going to get her to lie.

  “Maybe another time.” With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes he finally set the package on her desk.

  With relief, she noted it was from her grandfather, but she didn’t want to open it in front of Principal Winslow. His attention wasn’t on her as he glanced around the room at the newly decorated wall with pictures of all her favorite children’s books.

  “This is great. I like what you’ve done with the place. You’re really good with kids, and I bet you’d like one of your own. I could make you a mom,” he chuckled.

  Eww. This from a guy who made everyone watch the sexual harassment movie before school started?

  From the way his eyes sharpened coldly, she thought she’d said the word aloud, but realized her expression was probably just as clear. Before she could try to salvage the situation, June walked into the room. “Hey, guys.”

  Relief flooded Sarah when she saw her friend. “Hi.”

  “Am I missing out on a meeting?”

  Principal Winslow gave her a tight smile. “I was just leaving.” Using his knuckles he knocked twice on her desk. “Think about dinner, Sarah.”

  Well, that was not going to happen, but Sarah simply nodded to get him to leave.

  June groaned. “I’m already missing the cabin and the lake. That was so much fun, wasn’t it?”

  “It was. Have we really been home a week already?”

  “It’ll be empty for the rest of the summer. My parents only go if I do. We should totally sneak back up there at the first opportunity, while it’s still hot.”

  “Count me in.”

  June peeked out into the hallway then hurried to sit on the desk. “Appease my curiosity. Did you tell him you had a boyfriend or a disease?”

  “Neither. I decided I didn’t want to lie.”

  “You should have just told him your heart is bullet proof.” June’s tone was teasing.

  “Which it is.” Sarah’s answer was flat, her brow arched.

  “Once broken, never to be given again?”

  “My heart wasn’t exactly broken,” Sarah said dryly. “I only dated what’s his name for a few weeks. The fact that he turned out to be married makes me risk-adverse, not heartbroken.”

  June hopped off the desk. “Whatever. We’ll see if you still feel that way when the right guy comes along.”

  “I will.”

  “Will not!”

  “Will too,” Sarah muttered under her breath. Unless she could find an honest guy who would offer her a forever kind of love, she wasn’t budging.

  June glanced around the room. “Oh, this is looking good. I’d better work on my own room.” She started backing toward the door. “Three days till school starts. The kids will be here before we know it.”

  After June left, Sarah reached for the package and opened it. It was a book by her grandfather’s favorite science fiction author. She turned it over, studied the back, then flipped through the first few pages, wondering if he’d left an inscription.

  Nope. This was so weird.

  She’d already read the book and her grandfather knew that. It was one they’d read at the same time, and discussed afterward.

  So strange.

  She flipped through the book again, and this time found a small white piece of paper. She pulled it out and read the note.

  Do not go to the police. Take care of your mom and sister.

  A cold chill ran up her spine. What was that supposed to mean?

  She looked at the book cover again, at the spaceship on the front, and was reminded of the contents. Could this be her grandfather’s idea of a joke? The book did feature crooked police and she had to admit she didn’t always get his humor. She picked up her cell phone and tried to call him, but it went directly to voice-mail. She’d call him later and see what he meant by it. If he wasn’t so incredibly sharp, she’d think he was getting Alzheimer’s or something.

  She slid the book onto her bookshelf next to a stack of children’s books and got back to work.

  About an hour later, she was writing out the daily schedule on the right-hand side of the chalkboard when two men came into the room. Big, buff, and wearing black suits, the men didn’t look like they were there to talk about their fourth-grade children. They looked like FBI. Or thugs.

  Her spine prickled. She needed to tell her grandfather that their little book club needed to read a few romance novels next, rather than thrillers. Her imagination was getting away from her. “Can I help you?”

  “Ms. Davis?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you related to Clyde Davis?”

  Her grandfather again. A trill of fear shivered up her spine. This was getting to be too much. Again she wondered if this could be some sort of practical joke on his part. It wasn’t her birthday, or anywhere close to it. Maybe her new job had inspired him. She bit back a giggle as she wondered if the two men were going to burst into song.

  She looked beyond the two men – even Principal Winslow showing up right now would be a welcome relief – but there was no one. “Yes, I’m Sarah Davis. Can I help you?”

  “We’re going to need you to come with us,” the second man said. Only it came out ‘vee are going to need you to come vith us.’ Were they Russian? They certainly didn’t hale from the Boston area. Again she fought the urge to giggle.

  “Excuse me? You know you’re not supposed to be in the school, right? Did you sign in at the front desk?”

  She moved a few feet to the left, edging around her desk. She felt better with a piece of furniture between them.

  It didn’t work, because there were two of them and one of her. They rushed her so fast that by the time she’d sucked in a breath to scream, it was too late.

  One man had a hand clasped over her mouth, the other grabbed her purse.

  Seriously? Was this a robbery?

  Her eyes widened as hysteria and incredulity choked her. Everybody knew teachers didn’t make much money. She certainly didn’t have any on her: three bucks and a debit card. What were they going to do, take her to an ATM and make her withdraw her last $43.28?

  These inane thoughts went through her head as she tried to breathe, her nose sucking in oxygen so hard her nostrils flattened. Her heart clamored, and panic weakened her legs.

  It turned out it didn’t matter, because no matter how hard she bucked and tried to yank her arms free, they held her.

  One of the men checked the hallway, motioned to the other, and they dragged her out. No one was in the hall. They marched her out the side door that was directly beside her room. It led to the side of the building where the buses picked up and dropped off kids. It was completely deserted except for the black car parked by the curb in the roundabout.

  She tried to dig in her heels, but it was no use. They were half-lifting, half-dragging her toward the car.

  A man dressed as a Scottish Highlander appeared out of nowhere.

  She blinked, wondering if she was getting enough oxygen.

  This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

  She was released long enough to be shoved into the back seat of the luxury car. “Help!” The word came out weak.

  By the time she was able to suck in another breath, to call out for help again, one of the men was seated beside her and the door was shut.

  She sucked in a deep breath. “Help!” She screamed the word anyway.

  The other man quickly slid into the driver seat.

  She tried the handle, but it wouldn’t open on her side.

  “Calm down, Ms. Davis. We only need to ask you a few questions.”

  Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it. “Yeah, right! Let me out of here!” />
  “The sooner you calm down and answer our questions, the sooner we’re going to let you go.”

  She looked out the window for the costumed man, but he was gone. Had she been hallucinating? Had her addled brain conjured up a hero from one of the romance books she liked to read?

  “What do you want? Why are you doing this?” Were they robbers? Rapists? What could they possibly want with her?

  Do not go to the police. Take care of your mom and sister.

  She took a calming breath, trying to believe they really only wanted a few answers. “You mentioned my grandfather? What’s going on?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, Ms. Davis. We’re actually taking you to your grandfather now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We find he might need just the slightest bit of incentive. You know how old people are. How much they love their grandkids.”

  First her grandfather sent her a note, and now she was being kidnapped? What was going on?

  She’d taken some self-defense training once, and the only thing she could remember right then was to not let them take you to another location.

  The driver started the car and pulled around the curve of the roundabout.

  She was in so much trouble.

  ~~~

  Murdoch was surrounded by a green haze. It swallowed him, tossed him about as a leaf in the wind. He recognized it for what it was.

  Magic.

  He didn’t even try to fight it; he simply enjoyed the ride.

  Until he landed with a hard thump on hard, black ground.

  It hurt! It took him a moment to register the sensation, but when he did, he smiled, then laughed.

  He could feel something again? Pain was where he’d ended, and it was a great place to start. It told him he was alive again. He laughed all the harder.

  Hearing a noise of distress behind him, he slowly stood to see a girl, or rather a woman, struggling between two brutish men. She was tiny, blonde, and obviously fearful. She wore a skirt shorter than his kilt and her shapely legs were visible.

  His protective instincts roused even as a part of him wished to walk away. He’d had his share of feeling responsible for others and wasn’t sure he had the stomach for more. He was half turned away from the scene when the lass glanced up at him. Strands of her long blonde hair blew into her face and she looked startled to see him, then pleading and desperate behind the hand held to her mouth.

  She was shoved inside the vehicle and he heard her cry for help.

  At the sound of her voice, a spark lit within him.

  MINE. A voice in his head roared.

  It was her. There could be no doubt.

  His protective instincts roused even as shame washed over him. Shame over the fact that he’d not wished to come. That he’d wanted to walk away. Soni had been right. He was needed. Had his hesitation endangered the lass?

  She’d looked unharmed.

  He was in time.

  With both body and soul combined, this chance to step into adventure was spread before him like a banquet at the king’s table. He should know as he’d once been welcomed at such a feast. The memory came slashing back, something he’d not thought on in years.

  He could feel! He could remember!

  He could act.

  This was to be his challenge, then? To rescue a beautiful maiden in distress? His maiden?

  Fine by him. He accepted wholeheartedly.

  Another man had touched what was his? Centuries of rage surged through him, filling every part of his being as he took one step, then another toward the vehicle until he was running.

  The lass was his. They were taking his woman.

  And that was completely unacceptable.

  Chapter Two

  Sarah heard a thump on top of the car and jumped in fright, flinching down into her seat.

  The driver slammed on the brakes.

  They weren’t going fast, but quickly enough to throw the man on the roof onto the hood of the car.

  “Get him, Ivan!”

  “Watch her.” Ivan, the driver, jammed the car into park and jumped out just as a kilted man slid off the hood and somehow landed gracefully on his feet.

  Sarah gaped. She hadn’t imagined him?

  He turned around.

  She sucked in a breath as she got a perfect view of him through the windshield. Thick, shoulder-length black hair, chiseled cheekbones, and a rugged jawline. He looked through the windshield straight at her, dark eyes blazing.

  She hadn’t been hallucinating. A wild Highlander stood in front of the car. A big one. His piercing gaze zeroed on her. For a moment, the dangerous situation faded away.

  The thug beside her jostled her arm and jolted her back to the present. “Who is that?”

  She didn’t know. Had the man heard her cry for help?

  She lunged across the seat to try the door again, but it still didn’t open. She pounded on the window and screamed, and the guy next to her grabbed her painfully by the back of her hair and pulled her close, his mouth to her ear.

  “I don’t think you should do that, Princess. It’s giving me a headache.”

  She gripped his hand with hers. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” He gave her a shake, and then released her. She dug her fingers into her aching scalp.

  “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, but thought, not if I can help it.

  A thump against the side of the car had her lifting her head to peer anxiously out the windshield.

  The men fought, the driver’s gun no longer in play, his hands empty. He stood in a boxers pose, occasionally striking out with his fist, trying to slug the other man who was too quick. Her hero? She certainly hoped so.

  The thug was big, but the other man was huge. He was also lithe, lean, and easily dodged the thug’s big, beefy fists. The Highlander’s face was like art; an angel of darkness. Tanned skin, dark hair flying, eyes piercing and black. Two scars slashed across his shoulder and arm.

  As if he’d sensed her gaze, he turned to stare. He barely moved in time to get out of the way as the thug’s big fist whirled past his head.

  And then, it was his turn. When his fist connected with the other man’s stomach, the thug bent in half, and the Highlander connected with a vicious punch to the side of his head. He was down and out of sight.

  And, call her crazy, but when the Highlander looked at her again, his mouth curling, she wondered if the man was showing off for her.

  The thug beside her pulled a gun as he opened the door and climbed out. He bent down to look at her. “If you leave this car, I will shoot you in the head. Understand?”

  Sarah swallowed hard and nodded as he slammed the door.

  She glanced frantically out the window to see if anyone was seeing this, running to aid them or at least calling the police, while she listened for gunshots.

  The parking lot was empty, as was the rural road. The empty windows of the houses across the way didn’t offer any comfort. As far as she could tell, there was no one witnessing this.

  She turned her head in time to see the Highlander kick the gun out of Thug Two’s hand.

  Relief flooded her and she tried the door. It opened easily, and she grabbed her purse and slid out, even as the threat of a bullet through her head weakened her knees.

  She stood outside the car and watched the fight long enough to ensure that the Highlander would be the victor and then instinct propelled her to turn and run.

  Part of her felt bad about deserting her rescuer, but the guy looked like he could take care of himself. She needed to get help. Her own car wasn’t parked far away, and she scrambled for her keys, finding them at the bottom of her purse. With shaking hands she was finally able to push the button that unlocked her car doors.

  She’d get inside, lock the car, and call the police.

  She ran around to the driver’s side.

  Do not go to the police.

  Surely her grandfather hadn’t meant in this situation?
Or had he?

  Even as the thought occurred, her passenger door opened and a man slid inside.

  Her scream was abruptly cut short. It was the Highlander. “Oh, thank goodness. Get in! Get in! We need to lock the doors!”

  The man slid into the seat beside her, taking up so much space that her car immediately seemed to shrink.

  She didn’t see blood anywhere, but had to ask. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  He looked into her face, really studied it, and smiled. “I’m fine, lass, and grateful for the concern.”

  Oh, my. His voice! Low, rumbly and accented; salted caramel dessert came to mind.

  She glanced past him to where two men lay crumpled on the pavement in front of their car. “I … I … I’m sorry I left you to fight alone.”

  He snorted.

  She lifted her phone, and found it was important he didn’t think her a coward. “I was just about to call the police, but my grandfather told me not to call the police. I don’t know what to do.”

  The Highlander now looked at the men, and one rose to his feet.

  “At the moment, I’d suggest ye get this wee little car to drive away.”

  That voice.

  “Unless ye’d rather I kill them?”

  She shot him an incredulous stare.

  He shrugged. “Yer call.”

  She stomped on the gas.

  “Nae? I hope ye dinnae regret letting them live.”

  ~~~

  He was staring.

  They drove away and Sarah pressed her foot to the pedal, swerving on the road like a crazy person, overshooting the lines and over correcting several times before straightening out. She looked in the rear view mirror but couldn’t see anyone. “Do you think they’ll follow?”

  He stopped staring to turn around in his seat and look behind him. “Nae.”

  Nae? Nae, he says. And in that deep, rumbly, accented voice!

  She had to bite back a hysterical giggle as she turned down one street, and then another. In the last twenty minutes, her life had officially turned Twilight Zone.

  “You seem to have much skill as a driver.”

  She glanced to see if he was giving her a hard time and her breath left her. The guy was too good-looking, and his shoulders took up his seat and part of the space between them too. There was no sarcasm on his face. She turned her gaze to the road once more. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”