Ghosts of Culloden Moor 22 - Murdoch (Diane Darcy)

by L. L. Muir

  She grabbed the key card and headed out the door. She wanted to find some ice and a soda machine.

  She came back about ten minutes later as Murdoch threw open the door. He looked wild, slightly crazed, his muscles pumped and bulging. He snatched her up into his arms and she barely held onto the ice bucket and soda. “Where have ye been?”

  She held up the bottle. “I just went to get something to drink.”

  His arms tightened. “I am to know where ye are at all times! How can I protect ye if ye disappear?”

  She couldn’t believe how angry he was.

  “Who did ye see? Who did ye talk to?”

  “No one. I was only gone for about ten minutes.”

  “If ye need to go somewhere, I will take ye. Do ye ken?”

  She nodded.

  His arms tightened and he held her close. All right, the guy was a crazy man; that was a given. But the way he held her, as if she were precious to him, as if she belonged to him … she had to admit his concern hit her like a drug.

  When he finally released her, she didn’t know where to look, so she poured herself a drink, settled against the headboard and turned on the news.

  He sank down beside her. “What time is it?”

  She glanced at the bedside clock. “Five-thirty.” She turned the volume up on the television. Weather was first, hot and sunny to continue. Next the excited newswoman reported that two men were in the hospital after they’d been attacked at an elementary school.

  Sarah slowly turned to look at Murdoch. His gaze was glued to the screen.

  The reporter continued the story. “Reports are, that the person who attacked these two men is dressed like a Highlander, as in a Scottish Highlander.” The newscaster grinned as if she were making a joke.

  “The men were taken to the Regency Hospital, and one man, Ivan Davidovitch, has woken from his medically-induced coma and it appears he’s going to be just fine. The other man was released earlier in the day. Hospital staff, as well as our reporters, have been unable to find him, to get his side of the story.”

  “Where is that hospital?”

  “It’s about forty minutes away.”

  Murdoch sprang from the bed. “Let’s go. I wish to talk to the man, as he is in a weakened condition it might be easier to get information out of him.”

  “Or you could be walking right into a trap!”

  “Lass. Ye need to trust me. I’m good at this and can perhaps find what we need to know.”

  “What are you saying? What are you good at? Questioning people? Torture? What are you trying to say?”

  He grasped her hand and tugged her off the bed. “Let’s go. We have plenty of time to go to the hospital and get back.”

  “Why do we have to go?”

  “Because the more information we have, the more likely our chances of success.”

  She picked up her purse. “Fine. But you do realize we have to get you some new clothes first, right? Everyone is looking for a Highlander. You kind of stand out, big guy.”

  Chapter Seven

  At the mall, Sarah purchased Murdoch some loose basketball shorts and a T-shirt while he waited in the car. After some balking on his part, he changed, and they went inside and purchased clothes more to his liking using some of the cash from the sale of his coin. Jeans, sneakers, and a black T-shirt later, and he looked good. Regardless of his complaining that he didn’t wish to be gelded, he seemed to like the clothes. At least now he didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

  Thirty minutes later, they were at the hospital.

  “Remember,” Sarah warned. “I’ll do the talking. In fact, we might be better off if you hide while I get the room number. We can figure it out from there.”

  She was relieved when he nodded without arguing and slid around the corner.

  Sarah walked to the information desk and a young woman reluctantly set aside her cell phone. “Can you tell me which room Ivan Davidovitch is in?”

  “Are you a relative?” The young lady asked, disinterested.

  “Sister.”

  “Visiting hours are almost over, but I suppose you could peek in on him for a moment.”

  “Do you have any information about his wounds?” It seemed a sisterly type of thing to ask.

  “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to ask at the nurses’ station.”

  She got the room number and headed to find Murdoch. He was around the corner, sharp-eyed and leaning against the wall, looking big and intimidating. His new clothes, while nice, definitely didn’t make him blend.

  “Come on, this way.” Without a word, he followed.

  When they arrived at the room, she was relieved to see there weren’t any guards or anybody else around for that matter. “How do you plan to get information out of him?” All of a sudden she remembered the fight in the parking lot. Knives, guns, sheer brute force. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

  “I have my ways.”

  “Oh, dear. That’s what I’m afraid of. Anyway, don’t you mean, I have my vays. Russians, remember?”

  He grinned at her, and it surprised her to realize he wasn’t nervous at all. The man drove her crazy. Maybe she just needed to learn to relax in his company and let him take care of things. That’s what he wanted anyway.

  They found the correct room number and stopped outside. Murdoch, hands on hips, stared down at her. “Why doonae ye stay out here?”

  “What? No. I’m coming in.”

  “I think it would be for the best.”

  “The nurses will wonder what I’m doing.”

  Murdoch expelled a breath, then gave a slight shrug. “Fine. But I doonae wish ye to interfere.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to. This is your party.” They went into the room to discover the man was asleep.

  Sarah shut the door as Murdoch put a hand over Ivan’s mouth. Within seconds he started to struggle.

  She pressed a hand to her throat and drew in a breath.

  For her grandfather, she reminded herself. She could be resolute for him.

  ~~~

  Murdoch was unbelievably strong. Even as the guy hit out at him, tried to scratch, to scream, and strike him with fists, none of it seemed to affect Murdoch. He simply held the man down and no matter what Ivan tried, he couldn’t get away.

  He finally stopped struggling.

  “Good. That’s good. You and I are tae have a talk, d’ye understand?”

  Tell him yes! Tell him you understand! Sarah realized she was against the wall, breathing hard, her hand to her throat. She was certainly glad Murdoch was on her side.

  Ivan finally nodded.

  “I want ye to answer some questions. First, what is on the microchip?”

  The man’s eyes widened.

  “Aye, we know about the microchip. Answer the question. I’m going to lift my hand from yer mouth, and if ye scream in any way, I’ll make ye sorry. Do ye ken?” Ivan nodded and Murdoch slowly lifted his hand and watched as he gasped for air.

  “I don’t know what’s on it. I swear I don’t.”

  Murdoch held his hand over Ivan’s mouth again, pinching off his nose this time so he couldn’t breathe. As Ivan thrashed, Murdoch said calmly, “Are ye sure ye doonae know what’s on it? I have a feeling ye might not be telling me the truth.”

  Ivan struggled in earnest, but once again, nothing he did could remove Murdoch’s hand.

  Murdoch finally relented and Ivan gasped for air. “You Scottish piece of —”

  “Ah, ah.” Murdoch pressed his hand down again. While suffocating the guy, Murdoch grasped one of his hands and broke a finger. “There’s a lady in the room, so I’ll thank ye tae watch yer language.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and swallowed against nausea as her knees weakened. That sound! She could hear the sharp click, the sound of a broken stick, reverberating in her head over and over again.

  A moment later Murdoch let Ivan breathe. “I’m going to ask ye the question again. What is on it?”
<
br />   The man, breathing hard, clutched his hand and glowered at Murdoch. “I don’t know!”

  Murdoch lifted his hand again, and Ivan thrashed his head back and forth on the bed. “I really don’t know!”

  “Mmmphm.” Murdoch made a dismissive noise in his throat.

  Ivan grimaced as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You can torture me all you want, but unless you give up the microchip she’s not getting her grandfather back.” He indicated Sarah with a toss of his head.

  “Where is her grandfather?”

  Ivan’s eyes darted and it was obvious he knew the location. “Look, do what you will, but you’re not getting that information. They’ll kill me if I tell you.”

  Sarah had the sudden realization that Ivan would be on the phone the moment they left. He’d tell them they knew about the microchip. He’d tell them they were looking for her grandfather’s location.

  Murdoch must have known this all along.

  “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” The words flew out of Sarah’s mouth. Of course, what she meant was, you’re not going to kill him, are you?

  “We cannae let him talk.”

  Sarah froze. He was seriously considering killing the man? “May … maybe we could take him with us?”

  Murdoch glanced over at her, then back. “Do ye have anything else to tell me?”

  “I can’t! Can’t you see that? I can’t tell you anything!”

  Murdoch cut off Ivan’s air supply once more. “Is her grandfather still alive?”

  More thrashing. Nodding.

  Hope rose within her and Sarah took a step forward.

  Murdoch lifted his hands away.

  Ivan gasped. “Yes! Yes, he’s alive, I swear it! There would be no point in killing him!”

  Relief had her stepping back and leaning against the wall as tears filled her eyes.

  Murdoch lifted his fist and punched the guy in the temple, hard enough that it made Sarah shudder.

  Ivan lay unconscious, his face slack.

  “He’s not dead is he?”

  “No.” Murdoch looked like he was considering. Considering what? Ending the man? Sarah ran to his side and pulled on his powerful arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Murdoch paused. “This is the second time ye’ve stopped me from killing, lass. For you, only for you, I won’t. But I hope ye dinnae regret this later. Ye live in a much softer time than I ever did, lass.”

  What did that even mean?

  She dragged him out of the hospital to a staircase and they went down into the parking lot without being seen.

  “Let’s just go get my grandfather. Ivan should be out until then, right? We’re going to get him tonight, aren’t we?”

  They had to, because she was afraid he was going to kill someone if they didn’t.

  ~~~

  Murdoch didn’t like the way Sarah shook as she drove them out of the hospital parking lot.

  She threw him a panicked glance. “What if we just turn the microchip over to them to get grandpa back?”

  “They’ll never leave it at that.” They wouldn’t leave anyone alive. Villains never did.

  She hit the steering wheel in frustration. “How do you know that?”

  “Experience.”

  She shot him a glare. “Why? They can go on to live their dirty-deeds lifestyle, and we’re free to live ours in peace. Everyone wins.”

  Murdoch couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t. “Doonae ye wish to know what information is on the microchip?”

  “Oh my gosh. Seriously? No. I just want to go back to my easy-going, know-nothing, lifestyle. I want to teach kids fractions, cursive, and how to love reading stories. I don’t want to know what’s on that microchip. I don’t want to know why my grandpa had it. I don’t need to know any of this, do I? I just want my grandpa back, and to get on with my life.”

  Murdoch pressed his lips together. “Truly?”

  “Yes, truly. What do I want with a stupid old microchip?”

  “What if people are killed because of what’s on that microchip, but ye couldn’t be bothered to look?”

  She gripped the steering wheel. “What are you saying?” Her voice rose. “Are you implying that if these criminals do something it’ll be my fault?”

  “Yer grandfather is obviously a man of honor. A heroic sort. He kept this information out of their hands, so it’s obvious he wouldn’t let anything happen to others. I can do no less. He mailed it to ye for a reason. He obviously thinks they shouldn’t have it, and that ye can protect it.”

  “Now you’re calling me a coward?” Sarah rubbed the back of her neck, her face scrunched with dismay, seeming devastated by his assessment. “Seriously? You’re going to guilt trip me?”

  “That is not my intent.”

  He was given this chance to do the right thing, and though he’d not risk Sarah, he had no problem risking himself. He was starting to believe this situation was meant to be a small penance for the sins from his past. For not saving his men when he could. For turning the tide of history with his inaction.

  Resentful, upset, they’d turned north.

  Later they’d discovered that in actuality, London had been in an uproar. Rumors of the king fleeing, and a lack of defense had left London as easy pickings. The French were on the brink of attack. It was like a bad dream. They’d turned back based on the lying words of a spy. They could have succeeded in routing the king if Murdoch had done his job.

  Instead they’d given the Duke of Cumberland, The Butcher, the time needed to rally.

  Murdoch may as well have personally given him that time.

  And rally they had. The Butcher trained his men well in the following months as their own army languished—disheartened, cold, and hungry. When the English arrived well-fed, well-rested, and wishing for revenge, the Jacobites morale was at its lowest ebb.

  The battle lasted less than forty-five minutes.

  There was no doubt Bonnie Prince Charlie made mistakes.

  But they’d never have been made if Murdoch had outed Bradstreet.

  He shook his head, coming back to the present, to Sarah. “There’s a reason I was sent here. Obviously it was to help ye, not to help kidnappers and murderers. But to help ye and yer grandfather. To make things right.”

  “Who sent you? Can you just answer me that?”

  “Nae, I cannae.”

  “So what do we do?” Her voice sounded resigned.

  “We know where yer grandfather is. I shall go and get the man.”

  She snorted. “What? Without me? You believe the cowardly little woman should be left behind while you clean up this mess?”

  “Aye. That sounds about right.”

  Sarah let out a scream of frustration. “Fine! I’ll help you! That way I won’t have to live the rest of my life wondering what would’ve happened if I’d manned up. Womanned up. Whatever.”

  He smiled, even in moments like this she amused him. “Ye’re not to worry. I’ll not put ye in any danger. Yer grandfather certainly wouldn’t thank me for it.”

  “But what about him? If you go for him, couldn’t he be hurt? Both of you could.”

  She had a point.

  After a long moment, Sarah said, “Maybe we should just give them a fake microchip. Trade that for grandpa so they just hand him over and no one is harmed.”

  “Like a forgery? They cannae ken a fake?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we should look and see what’s on it. Maybe we could change something?”

  “That would be an acceptable plan.” It might give them time to escape.

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “We’d have to find someone who can modify the microchip. I don’t know how. But I know how to find someone who could do it. And then I suppose I’ll take it and exchange it for my grandfather.”

  “Nae. Ye’ll see the chip modified, and I’ll take it. Do ye ken? These men are not to be trusted.”

  She shot him a resentful glance. “We’re going to do this together, or not a
t all.” She drew in a breath. “If I gave up the fake chip, couldn’t I trust you to save me?”

  He exhaled slowly. “Ye’d trust me that far?”

  She nodded, “Yes. Yes I would.”

  Something hot welled within his chest and his heart seemed to lodge in his throat. “Yer a brave lass, but I’ll not put ye in danger. We doonae know if yer grandfather is hurt at this point. He might even be willing to give up his life for this cause. Until we know more, we’ll proceed with care.”

  “Alright. I’ll trust you to know the right thing to do.”

  The ache in his chest intensified. He didn’t deserve trust. Not after Culloden Moor. But it felt good all the same.

  He’d not let her down.

  He’d see her and her kin safe if it was the last thing he did in this existence.

  Chapter Eight

  They drove in silence for a while, and Sarah thought about what their next step should be. “You know what? I think we need a kid.”

  “A kid? As in a child?”

  Sarah glanced at Murdoch to see if he looked as stunned as he sounded. He did.

  “Yes, a kid.” She pulled into a grocery store parking lot and called the last person she wanted to talk to. After a moment, the phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hi Principal Winslow, it’s Sarah.”

  “Sarah! I’m glad you called. How are you doing? You never came back to the school today.”

  “Sorry about that. I was just really upset about my classroom. I’ll be in to clean it up as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I insisted the boys do most of the work. When you go back, there will just be a few things you’ll probably want to put in place. I know how you ladies are, always wanting things just so.” He chuckled. “It’s getting a little late, but any chance you want to go out for that coffee? Even a late dinner, if you’re feeling up to it.”

  “Thanks, but what I really need is to get hold of someone over at the high school. The computer science teacher. I’m looking for someone to come and explain computer technology to the kids.”

  “Oh, that’s great! Look at you, always thinking about your students. You’re a wonderful teacher; you know that, right? A great addition to our school.”