“Thank you,” Diego responded. “Any update on the weather?”
“Sky’s overcast, but we’re ahead of the storm that’s coming in tonight. Temperature is 15 Celsius, 60 Fahrenheit, a bit cooler than Boston. Local time is 4:30 p.m. Is there anything else, sir?”
“No, that’s it. Thanks for a smooth flight. See you on the ground.” Diego turned to Alex. “I’ll fill you in on my idea after we land. Of course I’ll have to run it by Serge, too. There are two bathrooms aft, if you want to freshen up,” he said as he rose and extended a hand to help her out of the oversized reclining seat.
“I think I’ll stay here,” she said and peered out the window again. She wanted to be alone to catch a glimpse of Scotland, but a stubborn cloud cover hid its lochs, glens and mountains and thwarted her chance for a private reunion with the land of her ancestors, the dramatically beautiful land that was now forever tainted by Will’s murder.
Diego’s mobile phone sounded as the plane taxied to the terminal.
“Thank God,” uttered Serge when Diego answered. “Don’t you ever check your voicemail? Didn’t I teach you to always maintain contact? How am I supposed to protect you if you can’t even do something as simple as that?”
Diego’s expression hardened, his full lips narrowing in response to Serge’s tongue lashing, which was at a decibel level loud enough for Alex to hear. She was surprised when he took it in silence instead of defending himself. Alex suspected that Serge was the only person who could lecture him and get away with it.
“What? What’s he saying?” Alex tugged impatiently on Diego’s sleeve to get his attention.
He put a finger to his lips to quiet her and focused intently on what the bodyguard was telling him. Diego’s brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. Concern filled his eyes as he listened and he wrapped an arm tightly around Alex’s shoulders.
Something hard jabbed her side and she lifted his sweater to see if her guess was correct. Before she could see more than the bottom of the holster, Diego irritably tugged the sweater down and glared at her. What the hell was he doing with a gun? As much as she found sadistic pleasure in fantasizing about ways to make Will’s murderer suffer, his punishment would have to come from someone more rational than this madman whose combination of Scottish and Sicilian blood predisposed him to violence and vendettas. Once again, Alex was reminded of how little she knew about the man she’d allowed to become her lover.
“What did he tell you? And what the hell are you doing with a gun?” she demanded the moment the call ended.
“We have to go. I’ll fill you in on the way.”
“Bullshit! I saw that look on your face, Navarro. Tell me what’s going on right now or I head back to Boston tonight.” She crossed her arms and waited.
“That’s exactly what I wanted you to do. I thought you’d be safer in Boston, but I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, more alarmed by the tension on his face than by his words.
“Serge told me that you were being followed in Boston.”
“What? Why would they care about me? I’m a MacBain, not a Cameron.”
“Yes, but you slept with a Cameron. Remember you told me you had an appointment with your gynecologist? That kind of doctor also delivers babies, yes? You were followed, and now they think you could be pregnant with Will’s child…the last Cameron.”
“That’s ridiculous. Do I look pregnant?” Alex asked as she ran a hand over her flat stomach.
“That’s not the point! Jesus Christ, woman!” He didn’t know whether his anger was driven by worry or frustration that she didn’t get it, but he was having a hard time maintaining control. Diego stood over her and gripped the arms of her seat, his face inches away from hers. “Doesn’t it tell you something that you were being followed?” he hissed. “Don’t you see that they might decide to kill you on the off chance that you’ve got John Cameron’s grandchild in your belly?”
“But I’m not pregnant! I’m not…” her voice trailed off. “No one’s going to kill me. If they wanted to, they’d have done it already.” His use of the word “belly” jolted her as it brought back the frightening encounter with that man in the alley. She was tempted to tell Diego about it, but he’d lay into her about that too. This was definitely the wrong time to give him a reason to become even more crazed than he was already.
Diego slumped into the seat next to her as they both tried to calm down.
“I don’t like that you have a gun,” Alex finally said. “Besides, you can’t get it through Scottish immigration.”
“You can if you have the proper paperwork and I do.”
“But isn’t it Serge’s job to protect you?”
“It is, but he taught me to defend myself and I can, surprisingly well.” Diego took her hands in his and used one finger to gently turn her face toward him. He had to make her understand the danger posed by their adversaries. They’d killed at least once and Diego knew they could do it again.
“I have no idea what we’re up against here, but please try to trust me. I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he said as he cupped her face tenderly and whispered, “You’ve become too important to me.”
She heard and nodded, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, reply.
“Let’s go,” he said, breaking the mood as he shifted into action. “We’re meeting Serge at his hotel after we pick up our car. I hate driving on the wrong side of the road and I’m going to need you to navigate us through those inane roundabouts they love over here.”
“I’ll drive,” Alex replied. “Don’t forget that Will and I spent a lot of time in London, so I’m pretty confident I won’t smash into anything.” The switch to a mundane topic helped to defuse the tension between them.
“Fine, but a woman behind the wheel and a man in the passenger seat goes against all that is holy,” he teased, as a grin spread from his mouth to eyes that sparkled with mischief until he saw that Alex didn’t realize he was joking. “Of course you’ll drive and I’ll do my best to stay calm. I may have more machísmo than you’d like, but that doesn’t make me a total idiot.”
“Yeah, right,” she grumbled, but let it drop.
He deferred to her when they chose their rental — a red Mini Cooper, which wasn’t just cute, she said, but also the perfect size for Scotland’s narrow roads, unlike the muscular SUV he’d wanted.
They reached the hotel easily and found a man Diego recognized as Serge in the lobby bar, but he looked like a stranger to Alex. The transformation in his appearance amazed her. He had a great tan and wore a navy blue Polo shirt, khakis and tasseled loafers with no socks. His military-style short hair had grown out and he could have passed for a more muscular version of Brad Pitt. Serge couldn’t have looked more American if he’d been waving the Stars and Stripes.
“What’s with the outfit?” Alex asked as Serge led the way to his suite. He’d also lost the accent that had led her to believe that English wasn’t his native tongue.
“Oh, this,” he said, as he looked down to remind himself of what he was wearing. “The people here think that I’m an American from Florida who’s in Scotland on business. I have to look the part.” As soon as they were safely in his suite, Serge turned his attention to Diego.
“Did you tell her?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Diego, “she knows.”
“And she’s okay with what we’ll do once we find him?” Serge asked as he paced across the suite’s spacious living room. He wanted to finish the job and get the hell back to Florida or wherever Diego was headed next.
Alex glared at them, but they didn’t notice. The longer the two men behaved as if she were invisible, the angrier she became. When she couldn’t take it any more, she blocked Serge’s path and jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “Hey! Can you see me or have I suddenly vanished? The two of you better start to include me in everything. Everything! And stop behaving like I’m some weak damsel in distress.”
“She’s right,” said Diego. “Alex has to
ughened up since you met her in Miami, although her muscles leave something to be desired,” he teased, knowing she’d rise to the bait. He dodged just before her fist connected with his jaw. “Admit it, Alex, you haven’t been working out.”
“You idiot!” she spat. She was livid, but a part of her liked that Diego noticed that she was growing stronger every day.
“I apologize, Alex,” said Serge. “If Diego wants you to be included in our talks, of course you will be.”
“Not only that, but she’s also part of the plan I’ve come up with,” said Diego.
Serge’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Oh? You have a plan?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “Do you think it might be important to hear what I’ve learned in the last twenty-four hours before you tell us about your...plan?”
Diego didn’t like being second-guessed or patronized. Alex recognized the twitching jaw and icy eyes that signaled the effort he was making to hold his temper and his mouth in check.
“Fine. You’re the expert. I defer to you,” he said, his speech clipped.
Serge had dealt with Diego’s short fuse for years and knew that the storm would pass as quickly as it rose, so he simply proceeded with his report.
“Okay. You both know that one of the listening devices I placed picked up a call to Mackinnon from the man who was tailing you in Boston,” he said as he glanced toward Alex for confirmation. She nodded. “They’re waiting to see if you’re pregnant with your late husband’s child. If you are, they plan to kill you. They’ll stop at nothing to wipe all traces of John Cameron from the earth.”
“Well, I’d better do lots of crunches and watch my diet,” Alex joked, but she shivered and felt goose bumps rise on her scalp at the matter-of-fact way Serge spoke about her murder. She and Will had longed for a child for so many years that it was weird to be happy that the regular periods she’d had since he’d died were absolute proof that she wasn’t pregnant. And she was on the pill. Nope, definitely not pregnant.
“Alex,” Diego said, interrupting her reverie. “Do you remember that vagrant we saw near your house? Remember that I thought there was something off about him? Serge found out that he was one of two men sent to follow you.” Diego raked his hair with both hands as he paced from one end of the room to the other. “I told you to watch out for him, didn’t I? Christ, I never should have gone to Buenos Aires and left you alone. What if he had…”
“Why are you angry? Nothing happened,” Alex shot back, but that was only half true. If this guy were one of them, it was important for Serge to know about her encounter with him. Diego would explode, but that was his problem. She was sure that once she told them, these two men would watch her like hawks. Maybe she should be grateful for that instead of fighting it. She didn’t want to die. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath.
“I have something to tell both of you. And Serge, it would probably be a good idea if you get a firm grip on Diego because he’s going to flip out.” She had their full attention. “One of the men that you just said was following me...well...he and I actually met while you were in Argentina. He seemed harmless enough, just down on his luck.”
“What! ¡Díos mío! Why didn’t you tell me about this? What did he say to you?” Diego bolted out of his chair as if a firecracker had gone off under him.
Alex turned her back on both men and gazed out the window at the timeless beauty of Inverness Castle across the river from the hotel. It calmed her until she felt Diego’s breath on her neck. I suppose now he’s going to strangle me, she thought, but instead his arms came around her waist as he leaned in and whispered, “Don’t you know the risk of talking to such a person? I’d never forgive myself if he’d harmed you.”
Although the warm strength of his body was comforting, his compulsion to protect her was maddening and she pulled away. How could he brag to Serge about her strength one minute, then think he had to rescue her the next? She glared at him and shoved him away.
“Do I look hurt? No. Did he do anything to me? No. Well, he did touch my stomach at one point and said something odd, but…”
“He touched you?” Diego interrupted, his face in hers again.
Serge seemed to be enjoying their performance and was patiently waiting for it to end so that he could continue his report.
“Stop interrupting and I’ll finish,” she hissed. “And stop breathing in my face. You could use a mint or something.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m mad at myself, not at you. Go on,” Diego said as he silently accepted a mint from Serge. Alex hoped it would keep his mouth busy for a few minutes.
“After I saw the doctor I went to the alley where Will died. I needed to see it. You might think I’m crazy, but I felt Will’s presence there. Anyway, I sat on the ground for a while…talking to him…until that same street person came along. He heard me talking to myself and wanted to know if I was okay. Can you imagine? Anyway, I thought he might know someone who’d witnessed Will’s murder. I asked if he knew of anyone who slept in that alley or whether he’d heard anything about a man being stabbed there. He mumbled that he didn’t know anything and staggered away. I went after him and when I caught up he put a hand on my stomach and said the weirdest thing.”
“What?” the two men asked in unison. She finally had Serge’s attention as well as Diego’s.
She rubbed her head again to try to get rid of the goose bumps that prickled her scalp and took a steadying breath. “I’ll never forget his words. He said, very clearly, ‘Did your man plant something in there before dying, I wonder?’ I wanted to chase him, to ask him what he meant, but he began to run. I knew I was too shaky to catch him so I didn’t try. I went straight to Francie’s. If they’re trying to figure out if I’m pregnant, maybe I should do one of those home pregnancy tests in front of Mackinnon to prove there’s no baby for them to worry about.” She was dead serious.
“That’s not such a crazy idea if it would keep you safe,” said Diego. “What do you think?” he asked Serge.
“If your only goal is to protect Mrs. Cameron — and I know that’s important to you — her idea could work. These people say they’d prefer not to harm her...something about her having the blood of some Scottish hero — MacBain, right?”
Alex nodded. “When Will and I were in that man’s store, he asked if I was Scottish. I said that my family name is MacBain, and Mackinnon got all excited. He told me my ancestor, some guy named Gillies Mor MacBain, was a hero who killed a lot of English soldiers at the Battle of Culloden.”
“Then it seems you’re only in danger if they decide that you’re pregnant.” Serge directed these comments to Alex, then turned to Diego. “I thought my mission was to find the people responsible for the murder and punish them. Has that changed?” To him, this was simply another assignment. If Diego now had a different objective, Serge needed to know.
Alex understood that none of this was personal for Serge. Diego had told her that as a Mossad agent he’d had to kill without being told why. The old Alex would have been horrified, but Will’s murder had forced a shift in her sense of right and wrong. Instead of thinking of Serge as a cold-blooded assassin, she began to see him as someone who meted out justice.
Diego’s expression softened as he glanced at Alex, but then he turned toward Serge and, like a chameleon, he shifted into the ruthless warrior Alex was starting to recognize. “No. In answer to your question, nothing’s changed. If Alex went to Mackinnon now, he’d find out that we know about him and it’s those fucking killers we’re after. There’s no way in hell that I can let them get away with what they did to Will.”
“I agree,” said Serge. “Right now, they have no idea that we’re here or that we know who they are and I want to keep it that way. They suspect that you’ve left Boston, Alex, but they have no clue that you’re in Scotland, so you should be safe for a while at least. And they’d never imagine that there’s another male Cameron, and a dan
gerous one at that.” Diego’s blood tie to Will had dramatically upped the stakes. “And finally, there’s a very chatty young lady who I’ve…” he hesitated and cleared his throat. Diego had heard all about the voluptuous Mairi Graham and his lips twitched watching Serge try to delicately explain this relationship to Alex. “I suppose you could say the young lady and I are, uh…close.”
Alex noticed Diego’s grin and wanted to somehow assure Serge that he could be comfortable around her. “Oh, you mean you’re fucking her?” she asked sweetly.
Diego howled with laughter and slapped his startled bodyguard good-naturedly on the back. Serge didn’t join their mirth, but simply raised his brows and shook his head from side to side as if they were a couple of playful pups whose antics he had to tolerate until they could control themselves again.
“As I was saying…the young lady’s family and the Mackinnons are very close. She even calls the old guy “Uncle” Jamie. Mairi told me that his grandson — young Jamie — is kind of like a brother to her. She said he left for America around the time Will was murdered. When he came back a month or so later, he quit a good job here in Inverness and moved to the far north of Scotland to work as a sheep farmer. She also knows Ewen.”
“Who?” asked Alex.
“You know. The man you told us you remembered meeting in London. The one who sent you and Will to Mackinnon’s shop.”
“Interesting,” Alex said. “I’m glad I was able to pull his name out of my brain.”
“Yeah, that helped,” replied Serge. “Before I came to Scotland, I spent a week in London masquerading as a high class lawyer. I hung out at the Mayfair pub that you and Will went to whenever you’d visit London. The barman remembered Ewen. About a week before the murder, Ewen was in the pub with someone whose description matches Mackinnon’s grandson. After a few drinks, they bragged about a job they had in America that would pay handsomely.”
“So the evidence all points to this young Jamie person, right?” Alex said.
“Precisely, at least so far,” responded Serge. “But we can’t act until we’re sure.”
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