Legacy of the Highlands

by Harriet Schultz

  Diego nodded and tented his hands against his forehead. He slowly rubbed his fingers along his hairline. “We must find this young Jamie.” He spat out the name with contempt.

  “You seem pretty sure that Mackinnon has no idea that we’re on to him. But if your girlfriend is so close to his family, can you trust her?” Alex asked Serge.

  “She has no reason to lie to me,” he shrugged. “To her I’m a guy she has fun with — one who has enough money to keep her interested and who’s dangling a trip to sunny Florida in front of her.”

  “Ooooh, you’re bad,” Alex grinned at Serge. Although he wasn’t her type, she could imagine a young woman being charmed by his blonde, blue-eyed good looks and his powerful build.

  Diego stretched his arms toward the ceiling and yawned loudly. “It’s been a long day, amigo, and I’m hungry. I noticed a restaurant off the lobby when we checked in. Let’s eat and then get some sleep. As for the rest, it can wait until mañana.”

  They were waiting to be seated when a female voice called to someone named Steve.

  “Shit,” grumbled Serge. “That’s Mairi. To her I’m Steve Spencer from Miami and I own a chain of gift shops. You’re business associates here on vacation,” he instructed quickly as she approached.

  The contrast between the girl’s creamy skin and hair the color of an Irish Setter was striking. Alex could see why Serge would want to do whatever he was doing with her, even if she had no connection to Mackinnon. The voluptuous girl bubbled with enthusiasm and was obviously happy to see Serge.

  “Mairi! Did we have a date?” he asked and slipped his arm around her waist.

  “No, Steve, we dinna, but I popped by for a drink anyway. I hoped I might see you here,” she said guilelessly as her face flushed.

  “And you did, so it worked out fine, but your timing isn’t so good. I’m about to begin a dinner meeting with some business associates,” he said amiably turning toward Diego and Alex. “Mairi Graham, meet Barbara and Rick Sloane. This isn’t social or I’d ask you to join us. I’m sorry.” He drew her closer and planted a gentle kiss on her temple.

  The girl tried, but failed, to mask her disappointment. Alex smiled warmly and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Mairi,” she said. Diego’s smile was dazzling as always. Because Serge introduced them as a married couple, Alex looped her arm though Diego’s to better display her wedding ring. The way Mairi was looking at Diego, Alex thought the girl might like to trade Serge in for him.

  “Pleased to meet you both,” she said and turned back to Serge. “Do all Americans look like film stars or is it just you three?”

  They all laughed.

  “And are you in the trinket business as well?” She directed this question to Diego. Alex had become invisible.

  “No, we’re collaborating on another venture,” replied Diego smoothly.

  “Why don’t you two find our table and I’ll join you in a minute,” Serge suggested. “I want to put Mairi in a taxi to be sure she gets home safely,” he said and then hustled Mairi away.

  Serge looked grim when he returned. “I had no idea she’d be here. I didn’t want her to see the two of you.”

  “Why not?” Diego asked. “She thinks we’re a couple of Americans named Barbara and Rick Sloane. What’s the problem?”

  “I trust Serge’s instincts,” Alex said. “If he’s upset that she saw us, there must be a good reason.”

  “These people are sure they got away with murder, which works for us. It will make them sloppy. And although I think Mairi’s only connection to them is that of family friend like she says, there’s always a chance that she’s playing me while I’m doing the same to her. Doubtful, but you never know. It wouldn’t be the first time,” Serge said thoughtfully as he buttered a warm roll.

  “So what are Alex and I supposed to do? Hide in our room?”

  “No. I’m thinking that the two of you could be used as bait to draw them out, make them nervous. But we can’t blow the element of surprise yet, so it’s best if I keep Mairi away from you.”

  “It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out just how you’ll do that,” said Diego grinning lasciviously as he perused the menu. “I know they eat some sheep’s stomach thing called haggis in this country, but what the hell do you suppose neeps and tatties are?”

  Chapter 28

  The sight of the large, white water tower looming over the prison gates made bitter bile rise to James Mackinnon’s throat, its foul taste a perfect reflection of his emotions. After only one year inside the walls of Her Majesty’s Prison Shotts, his spirited, fun-loving son had become docile, his face pale, his body thin, the sparkle gone from his eyes. Some men took prison life in stride, but his boy was happiest hunting, fishing or hill walking; the regimented confinement of prison life was taking its toll. It would be another few years before his son would even be considered for release.

  Twice a month Mackinnon dutifully drove the 170 miles from Inverness to the maximum-security facility south of Glasgow to spend an hour — all the time the fuckers allowed — with his Jamie. These visits were torture for him and reignited his hatred for the man who’d caused his son to be locked up in such a place. Mackinnon’s only consolation was that now John Cameron felt even more wretched than he did, and he was glad of it.

  Cameron’s perfidy had set off a chain of events that ended with Jamie’s arrest. Mackinnon himself had faced expulsion from the Group of One Hundred, which long ago banned the use of violence to achieve a free Scotland. They’d made him swear on his son’s life that he knew nothing of the plot, and he did as they’d asked. If he’d refused, he and his would have been cast out forever. He would rather die than be the first Mackinnon in 700 years to be expelled from the group and humiliate his clan. Yet he’d willingly risked that very thing once more when he and his friends concluded that Cameron had to pay for his sin. If word of Will Cameron’s execution ever reached the group, his brethren wouldn’t hesitate to bring the law down on his head. “Fools,” he muttered.

  He was enraged that his boy Jamie had been vilified as a threat to society, when he should have been hailed as a hero for building a bomb that would have hurt those who continued to regard Scotland as a fiefdom. If the explosion had killed the innocent, well, it was war, wasn’t it? The English devils would learn that Scots could be as ruthless as the Irish in the pursuit of freedom.

  He’d get some satisfaction from telling his son that their kinsmen had made John Cameron pay for his treachery. He’d not reveal that it had been the hand of his grandson — young Jamie Mackinnon — that plunged the knife into Will Cameron. The lad might be proud of his son’s skill and courage, but it would also worry him and prison life came with enough worries. No, for now he’d keep that part of the tale to himself, although it pleased him to see the youngest generation pick up the sword.

  The elder Mackinnon was accustomed to the prison’s drill. As required, he’d booked his visit in advance. An officer met him on arrival, ticked his name off a list, and he was then subjected to a security search more thorough than those done at airports. Once cleared, he took his place on a hard chair in the unheated, windowless visitors’ waiting room until a staff member finally came to fetch him to spend his hour with his son, Jamie. The place reeked of the disinfectant used on its worn, but spotless, floors and he knew the sharp odor would linger in his nostrils on the return trip to the Highlands.

  “James Mackinnon,” a matron’s officious voice boomed, “come with me.” Hunched with sadness and fatigue, he followed the woman’s stocky figure down a brightly lit corridor. Today’s news would do nothing to improve his son’s conditions, but he hoped the lad could find some comfort in knowing that the traitor Cameron had finally paid, and paid dearly.

  Chapter 29

  After the chance encounter with Mairi in the hotel lobby and a quick dinner, Diego and Alex fell into bed, too exhausted to do more than exchange a chaste kiss and sleep.

  When she woke the next morning, Diego’s nak
ed body was spooned against her back, his hand cupping her breast. He was still soundly asleep and she wondered when in the night they’d sought each other out. His skin was warm and smelled of man and when she felt his arousal she had to fight the urge to turn toward him for some lazy, morning sex. She checked the clock. 8:30 a.m. They’d arranged to meet Serge in his suite for breakfast at nine. Desire would have to wait.

  “Wake up. It’s late,” she whispered to Diego and threw off the covers.

  He mumbled something unintelligible as he extended an arm to draw her back against him. “Come here Alex, I’m cold.”

  “Tempting, but no. We have to meet Serge in thirty minutes. I’ll shower first since it takes me longer to get ready.”

  “You’re no fun,” he grumbled as he slitted one eye open.

  “That’s not what you said two nights ago,” she teased and quickly turned away before the impulse to run her hands over his chest overwhelmed her. The blanket only covered him to the waist and his biceps flexed as he smiled at her and stretched lazily. She wanted take everything he was offering and reciprocate just as generously. Instead, she told herself what she’d told him — tempting, but no — and ordered herself away from the bed and into the shower.

  They polished off the coffee and scones Serge had ordered from room service as they sat near the suite’s bay window and watched pedestrians briskly cross the River Ness’s bridge to the shops and businesses of the city center. The bright sunshine made the water appear to be studded with silver sequins.

  “I still don’t like that Mairi saw the two of you,” Serge began. “I should have told you to walk away the minute she spotted me so I wouldn’t have had to explain who you were.” A dust cloud rose when he slammed his fist angrily into the arm of the green velvet sofa. “Shit! I know better than to screw up something so simple.”

  “What’s the problem? You used fake names when you introduced us so she doesn’t know who we are,” Alex said, but this spy business was more complicated than it looked and if Serge was rattled, than she was too — big time.

  “The people who followed you in Boston had to know what you look like and would have emailed pictures of you back here to prove they were doing their job. If Mairi saw those photos on one of her visits to her “uncle’s” shop, she’d know I lied when I introduced you as the Sloanes. My cover would be blown.”

  “But that’s a long shot, right? You don’t really think she’s involved, do you?” Alex asked.

  “No,” replied Serge. “I watched her face and the only thing I saw was curiosity and the same kind of interest in Diego every female has. So, for the moment, let’s assume Mairi’s the innocent she seems to be.”

  “So what now?” asked Diego.

  “It’s time to rattle their cages. I want the two of you to go to Mackinnon’s shop. He’ll recognize you right away, Alex — not from your first visit, but because of the surveillance photos, which probably include Diego too. You’ll introduce him to Mackinnon as Will’s brother and watch the old man’s reaction. Ask him to tell your brother-in-law about the family history the same way he did for Will. If I’m reading them right, Diego will be the bait that draws them into our net.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” Alex blurted out as her heart began to race from a mix of anger, fear and caffeine. “First of all, why do you think Mackinnon would believe that a man named Diego Navarro could be Will’s brother? He’s not Diego Cameron, for chrissakes. Give the guy credit for not being a total moron.”

  “That’s why I brought a copy of the DNA test with me,” said Diego smugly.

  “You’re really getting on my nerves, wise ass,” she shot back and decided to direct the rest of her comments toward Serge who, after all, wasn’t a macho idiot.

  “If Mackinnon buys that Diego is John Cameron’s son, they’ll kill him, just like they murdered Will,” she said, her voice cracking. “This is a horrible idea and I won’t do it! I’m not going to help you commit suicide,” she shrieked. The two men might believe that they could take care of Mackinnon and Company themselves, but it was time for her to get off this thrill ride. Diego would have a bull’s eye on his back as soon as Mackinnon found out that he’s John’s son. No. She wouldn’t allow it.

  “I know this scares you, but please hear us out before you reject this idea,” Diego said.

  “Fine, I’ll listen. And I’m totally calm. See?” Alex held out a hand that was rock steady. “You were saying…?” she added sarcastically, with exaggerated patience, but nothing was going to persuade her to change her mind.

  “We agree that Mairi’s the wild card, but only if she recognized one of us,” Diego began. “Serge registered us as Barbara and Rick Sloane so even the hotel staff doesn’t know who we are. Nothing is different from before we ran into her last night.”

  “And what about when we tell Mackinnon who you are? What if Mairi sees us there and then tells him that we’re Serge’s friends, the Sloanes?” Alex asked.

  “That’s a lot of what ifs. Serge can keep Mairi busy here. The last thing she’ll have on her mind is a visit to her Uncle Jamie’s store if he does his job the way I know he can. Right?” he said, turning to Serge who nodded.

  “Am I the only rational person here?” Alex’s face flushed as her exasperation reached new heights. “If Serge is with Mairi, then the two of us are on our own. Bad idea.”

  “You think I can’t protect us?” Diego lashed out. “I can defend myself — and you — with a gun, a knife or my hands, but it’s not going to come to that. Don’t forget, Mackinnon’s not expecting us and one old man isn’t going to take us on during the day in a busy store.”

  Alex looked toward Serge for confirmation.

  “I wouldn’t send the two of you off unless I’d already assessed the threat level,” Serge began with cool confidence. “And if something unexpected happens, I have total faith in my student. He can definitely take care of himself and you, too. His only flaw, and the one that worries me most,” Serge continued looking directly at Diego, “is that he sometimes has trouble maintaining the detachment needed in combat, but maybe that rush of adrenalin works for him.”

  Diego crouched in front of Alex’s chair, but she refused to meet his eyes as he began to speak softly. “Alex, they were able to get to Will because his father never told him about their family’s connection to these people. John didn’t let Will know that he could be a target.” He wrapped his warm hands around her cold fingers and waited patiently until she looked at him. Her eyes were filled with tears, but he ignored them. “The difference is that I’m prepared for them.”

  “He’s right, Alex.” Serge sounded so certain, but there were too many unknowns for her to buy into it. It terrified her that Diego was willing to risk his life. She’d never be able to survive another body being lowered into the ground. Was vengeance really that important? After all, nothing they did would bring her husband back.

  When she finally looked up, she realized that both men were waiting for her to say something. “You’re both wrong. We should go to the police, tell them everything and let them take care of Mackinnon and whoever else is involved. They’re professionals; we’re not.”

  “The so-called professionals haven’t made an arrest yet. We’ve dug up most of the evidence and we’re going to follow through on it,” said Diego. “Maybe we’ll bring in the authorities at some point, but not yet.”

  Alex sighed and began to stretch her neck from side to side as she pushed herself out of the deep chair, then touched her toes. Even that minimal amount of movement made her feel better. “Can we take a break? Maybe a run will help me work off some nerves and then we can try this again.”

  “Good idea. You two go, but stay alert,” Serge warned. He recognized that for now Alex and Diego were each firmly dug into their positions and unlikely to budge. He didn’t want to waste any more time as they argued. “I managed to place a bug in Mackinnon’s house and haven’t listened to the overnights from there yet. I’ll do that while you’re
gone.”

  After Serge hustled Mairi out of the hotel the night before, she’d directed the taxi driver to drop her off at Mackinnon’s cottage instead of at her parents’ house. Whenever she was upset, she could count on “Uncle” Jamie for good advice.

  Serge’s abrupt dismissal had wounded her, but hurt quickly turned to anger at the insulting way he’d treated her. He acted like she was good enough for a shag, but not the sort he’d want for company when he was dining with his fancy friends. Not just that, but she’d been stupid enough to spend her entire paycheck on a new dress to impress him and the dolt hadn’t even noticed!

  If Steve Spencer thought he could use Mairi Graham and send her away when it suited him, he didn’t know her very well. Her Da had told her often enough that she’d cut off her nose to spite her face and that such behavior was childish. Maybe so, but it felt good to retaliate, even if it was she who lost in the end.

  Steve’s friends had seemed like a nice enough couple. The woman was friendly and the husband was as handsome as a film star. But then Steve had tossed her out and so she was on her way to Uncle Jamie’s instead of spending the evening with her rich American and his posh friends.

  Mairi saw with relief that the lights were still on in James Mackinnon’s small house. He hardly ever went to bed early, but it was after nine and he was getting old. He answered her knock quickly. “Mairi girl! What a nice surprise. And don’t you look lovely tonight. Have you been to a party, lass?”

  Her throat tightened and she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed as he drew her inside and onto the front room’s shabby, threadbare sofa. “There, there, lass. Has some bloke broken your heart then? Shall I throttle him for ye?”

  She nodded, then blew her nose when he handed her his handkerchief.

  “You don’t know the half of it Uncle Jamie,” she said when she regained her composure. “Did Da tell you that I’d met an American who offered me a position as nanny at his house in Florida?”