ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense)

by Faith Mortimer

  “Whoa! Steady old girl! It’s me, Julian. Who’s ruffled your feathers?”

  “Julian,” she let out her breath in relief. “I was trying to get some sort of coherent conversation going with Rae Campbell, and the filthy bugger practically assaulted me, the oaf.”

  “What did he do?”

  “It wasn’t what he did, it was what he implied. Don’t worry. I’m probably overreacting, but he is such a stupid oaf. It’s nice to hear from you. What’s the news your end?”

  “The usual and it’s bloody wet and cold down here. I was thinking…seeing as you’re determined to stay up there for ever…I might as well exchange one cold place for another and come and stay. I’ve got a few days leave left over, and I need to use them up. Besides, I want to see that cute little puppy of yours.”

  Cassandra laughed. “Bailey’s hardly the cute little puppy dog anymore, despite his age. He’s got so big and has massive paws. I can hardly lift him now. Er, when were you thinking?”

  “This weekend, if it’s okay? Don’t worry about getting in extra food. I’ve been given a marvellous hamper from Fortnum’s, which I’ll bring up. I can treat us to smoked salmon, quail’s eggs, pâte de foie gras and half a dozen bottles of the finest.”

  Cassandra did a rapid calculation. It was some time since Julian’s last visit and his interference. Despite her resolution that she wouldn’t have him to stay until she had cooled down, she did miss company, and Julian was fun having around.

  “Sounds scrummy. I can’t wait.”

  Chapter 24 The Present, Inverdarroch

  “So, how are the locals? Still behaving as I’d expect?” Julian asked. He laid down his newspaper as Cassandra entered the room, holding two mugs of coffee. She laughed as she handed one over before sitting on the carpet in front of the fire. Bailey was stretched out, hogging most of the heat, and she gave him a gentle nudge with her foot.

  “Much the same, although I feel I am making some progress. Fiona’s friendly and drops in when she’s not working, which seems to be every other day. God knows what she does with her time. She told me she has some sort of part-time job at the library. Apparently, she wants to write, but quite honestly, I don’t think she ever puts pen to paper.”

  “She’s flaky if you want my opinion, and I wouldn’t trust her. You’re new here and flavour of the month. Don’t encourage her to hang around. It would be better to inspire her to get on with her dream if that’s what she really wants to do.”

  “You’re right. She needs a push in the right direction. I don’t mind her coming round, and she says she enjoys playing with Bailey, but she can be a bit rough and teases him far too much. I just think it’s not really natural someone of her age should be so aimless in life. She’s desperate to marry Donald, but from what I gather, he’s yet to pop the question. ”

  “Talking of Donald, how do you get on with him?”

  “Now, he’s a weird one.” Cassandra drew her legs up beneath her. “He does make me feel uncomfortable, and I can’t really work out why. He stares and has a habit of appearing at my garden wall if I’m outside working…which is less now, as the weather is too cold for pottering. He has said if I ever need anything doing to let him know, but I’m not sure I trust him. He comes over as sly and calculating, almost creepy.” She grimaced.

  “The farm folk are—same old, same old. Exactly as rude as before when you were here last. Oh, except I’ve finally got to know the sister. Carol, her name is, and once you get through her shyness, she’s okay. She’s a hundred per cent nicer than the rest of her clan, even if she does have some strange ideas.” She smiled and rolled her eyes.

  “It took some doing to prise things out of her, but I think she trusts me now. She’s been round here a few times and sat and played with Bailey. It was probably him who was the catalyst, now I come to think of it. Carol’s a strange girl in some ways, though, and spends a lot of the time when she’s here saying nothing. I’ve tried being tactful by asking her if there’s anything worrying her, and she just shrugs. But I get the impression something is wrong. Perhaps she’s naturally introverted. I did wonder whether she suffered some sort of illness, but apart from one occasion when she told me about hearing voices, she hasn’t mentioned it since. Perhaps she was having me on. Heaven knows how that old bat Mrs Campbell ever gave birth to such a pretty and bashful thing! She’s younger than her brothers. Perhaps Mrs Campbell had a fling!” Cassandra laughed and pulled a wry face.

  “Now there’s an ugly thought. Thanks a lot!” he said before taking a swig of coffee. “It sounds like you’ve got your inquisitive hat on where this girl is concerned. You said she has some strange ideas and hears voices? Bloody hell, Cassandra. My advice is don’t get involved, otherwise you’re going to be looking for problems which aren’t there. You know the old hackneyed ‘shallow gene pool’ stories. You’ll be citing uncles, brothers, and incest next!”

  Cassandra shuddered and looked disgusted. “For heaven’s sake, Julian, I’m suggesting nothing of the sort. She’s just a young and lonely woman living in a house full of oafs with an old bag of a mother, who rules them all. I feel sorry for Carol. I’m not surprised if she does make up a list of imaginary friends. Just shut up if you can’t say anything nice.”

  Julian held up his hands in protest. “Sorry…the incest remark was in bad taste and unforgiveable. I won’t mention it again. I see you’re well stocked up with logs. I presume courtesy of your favourite neighbours.” He gestured towards her full log basket.

  “Courtesy? Mrs Campbell only tried to overcharge me!” She managed a weak laugh. “Honestly, they really are a gruesome bunch. But enough of that lot. What would you like to do this weekend? Bearing in mind snow is forecast, so we won’t be able to do much.”

  “I’ve thought up one or two invigorating hikes à la Google maps. We could try the one we did back in June.”

  “That was miles! If the weather turns bad, we’ll be caught out. I’d rather not go all that way. Besides, it’s too far for Bailey…he’s still growing.”

  “Okay, just a thought. You’re right…we’ll save it for next spring. How does Bailey like the area? It must be a dog’s paradise with miles of unbroken countryside and rabbits and hares galore.” He leant forwards and fondled the dog’s silky ears. “Does the village ever get cut off? I mean you’re miles from the nearest town.”

  “It was quite mild last year and the forecast heavy snow never arrived. Don’t worry, I’m well prepared for a winter siege. The freezer’s full, I’ve got a good stock of wine in the shed, and plenty of books to read on my ereader. If I get really bored, I can play Scrabble on the computer! I’ve had some fun this past year and even learnt how to make jam and chutney. I suppose I could have gone the whole earth-woman bit and got some chickens in, but I didn’t really want any more responsibility, and Mrs Grumps always has plenty of eggs to spare.”

  Julian shot an indulgent smile in her direction. “You’re looking in the best of health. Losing weight really suits you. Don’t take this as a back-handed compliment, but you’ve become a very attractive woman. I believe you’re thriving here. I’d never have guessed it…not in a million years. Well done, Cassie.”

  Cassandra peered at him, wondering if he was being sincere, but apparently he was. They sat in silence for a few minutes while finishing their coffee. Images of Angus came into Cassandra’s mind, and she wondered whether he still found her attractive. Ever since his visit when he had presented her with Bailey, she often reflected on Angus’s words and the soft light in his eyes as he stared at her. She felt a tightening in her stomach as it did its usual lurch at the thought of him.

  “Have you ever tried painting or sculpted anything like your sister?” he suddenly asked, looking round the room at Susan’s art, which Cassandra now had on display round the room.

  She laughed and looked away, stroking Bailey to hide her face as she flushed with embarrassment. She was thankful Julian was looking the other way. “I’ve often meant to. I did pl
ay around with her oil paints a while back because I’ve never tried oils before, but the result was disastrous, and I haven’t bothered since.”

  “Maybe you should. You never know you might have a talent for something similar.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe I will. One day.”

  “You know I’ve dabbled from time to time, and recently I’ve tried pastels, which I found quite tricky, as they smudge. Hey! I don’t remember this one before. Those are the hills behind your cottage, aren’t they? And who’s the bloke in tartan? A local laird?”

  Cassandra followed his gaze. “I found it some time ago and gave it a thorough clean. Yes, it’s local, and no, I’ve no idea who it’s meant to be. Angus said Susan used to have it hanging in the same place when she was alive.”

  “What a coincidence.”

  “Anyway, getting back to painting…you’re always welcome to use whatever’s here. Shall we go out if you’re ready? I thought we could do a round trip and come back via the pub. We might even try the food there. Pass me your mug over and I’ll give it a rinse.”

  “Thanks. A walk and a visit to a pub sounds like a good plan. Shall I leave my car where it is out the front?”

  “Er, no you’d better not. The brothers have been extra busy with their tractor this week. They’re up and down the road all the time, and it’s filthy with the mud. It’s something to do with silage, I think. Why don’t you move it round the side of the house by the clump of trees? It’ll be safe and out of the way there.”

  While Julian sorted his car out, Cassandra put the mugs away, ensured the sitting-room fire was covered by the guard, and after putting on her thickest coat and boots, locked the front door behind her.

  By mutual consent, they decided to miss the walk through the forest at the back of her land and headed down the lane towards Donald and Fiona’s cottage. They didn’t see a soul, except for a fleeting glimpse of Carol, who was hanging around her gate, before she darted down the lane next to the farmhouse.

  “Carol!” Cassandra called after her before shrugging one shoulder at Julian. “I told you she was shy. I thought I’d broken the ice properly and I could have introduced you. I’m curious about what you’ll make of her. Never mind…maybe you’ll get to meet her later this weekend.”

  “You forgot to mention she was pretty and so slim. She hardly resembles her mother or brothers, apart from her height. They’re a tall lot from this village, if you ask me.”

  Listening to Julian made Cassandra think of Susan and of her relationship with their parents and brother. Susan had been quite drunk when she disclosed the family’s dark secrets, and Cassandra could still hardly believe it. No wonder Susan wanted to leave. It explained a lot…especially the child Natalie and her own family life.

  ***

  They fell into a companionable silence once they left the village confines and headed for the open countryside. The walk took them way up above the valley of Inverdarroch. They could see the highest peaks in the distance, which were covered with snow, reminding Cassandra they should expect a fall on the lower reaches before too long. The landscape was beautiful, wild, and ancient, and its remoteness made it feel like it was untouched by human hands.

  “There’s an Iron Age hill fort further on,” she murmured when they paused for a breather, taking the opportunity to take a few shots of the stunning views, “with a ford you have to cross to reach it. Perhaps we’ll visit it next time.”

  Later, they passed a cleft in the mountain, which she recalled was known as The Horns of Dee. They saw a series of pinnacles, which Julian said they might try scrambling over in summer but was too dangerous during winter months. Far below, they could see the remains of an old shieling, or shepherd hut, which had been used years before, when the cattle were taken up during the warmer weather. Bailey never stopped beside them for longer than a few seconds. He scampered off in every direction, only pausing when he discovered an intriguing smell or to check Cassandra was still in sight.

  They judged it was time to turn back and headed down towards the remains of an old drovers’ road, crossing a heathland with a series of cairns, making them feel they were traversing a burial field. Here and there were scattered pools, which must have been fed by underground springs.

  “I remember Angus telling me about some pools,” Cassandra said as they leant over to peer down into the dark depths. “These must be the ones. He said you find occasional trout here. This must be the place because he described it as being surrounded on all sides by broken granite and steep glaciated valley walls. Wow! The water’s freezing.”

  As she sat back on her heels, a brisk wind tore down the valley, causing the dead bracken and heather to sway. Within seconds, the temperature had plummeted, so they increased their pace towards home.

  They hadn’t gone far when it began to spot with rain. Looking up at the leaden skies, they noticed a heavy grey blanket of cloud moving from the northeast. Within five minutes, the spots became a slow, steady drizzle, dripping off the edges of their hats and the hems of their coats. Cassandra turned to Julian and laughed. “Well so much for that. Shall we head for home and forget the pub? If we carried on, it would add an extra three miles to our walk.”

  Julian nodded. “The contents of my hamper are probably more interesting than the menu at The Wild Rover. Last time we went there, we received some odd looks.”

  “Well, that’s because you talked about sheep-shagging in an overly loud voice. Honestly, Julian, you are so insensitive at times.”

  “No, just straightforward. Hey, don’t go all huffy on me.”

  “I’m not, but it’s true. You have this annoying habit of forgetting where you are.”

  When he grinned, she knew he was being plain awkward, and in spite of herself, she grinned right back. They reached the last summit, the top of the brae above Inverdarroch, and her legs were aching from the climb.

  “I must say I’m a hundred per cent fitter than a year ago,” she began and looking round, stopped. “Where’s Bailey?”

  They scanned the area and called. Julian tried whistling, but there was no sign of the golden-haired retriever. Cassandra held her hand above her eyes to keep out the rain and yelled his name, again and again.

  “It’s no use. He can’t hear us,” she said as panic caught hold of her. “Perhaps he got left behind.”

  Julian shook his head. “No, he was out in front, I saw him go in the direction of the cairn over there. Come on, he’ll be off down the other side no doubt. We just have to catch him.”

  “But he never goes off. He’s never done this before.” Cassandra bit her lower lip to stop it trembling. “He’s only a baby still and can easily get lost.”

  “Hey, don’t worry,” he pulled her into his arms. “He won’t be far away.”

  Cassandra allowed Julian to hug her for a few seconds, breathing in his familiar Hugo Boss aftershave. Then she was pulling away from him and running towards the rocks. Bailey had to be there. The rain was falling harder, and a chill began to seep through into her bones. Julian moved off to one side, shouting for the dog. Within minutes, they parted, each going round the cairn on separate tracks. After ten minutes, calling and looking into the distance, Cassandra had walked the whole way round before discovering that both dog and Julian were missing.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she muttered under her breath. “Now he’s bloody disappeared, too.”

  In desperation, wondering what to do next, she turned a full circle, and suddenly there he was. Standing motionless, the featureless stranger, dressed all in black. Cassandra felt as if her blood had turned to ice. She stood rooted to the spot, not wanting to go over and ask if he had seen a dog or a man. Again she experienced the same feeling of recognition creep through her. It was as if she knew the man. Was it imagination? Did she recognise him from some other time? The way he stood and moved his head… There, a faint almost imperceptible drumming on the wind, and then, when he moved and the breeze caught his coat, Cassandra noticed what he
had by his side. She blinked and opened her eyes wide. Strapped round his waist was a scabbard, the sword, he held lightly in his right hand, point resting on the ground.

  It was a long, cruel-looking sword, the steel dull in the poor light. But that wasn’t all. From where Cassandra stood, she saw blood glistening on the blade. It was as if all her nightmares were appearing before her. The liquid was fresh blood. Bright crimson blood.

  Stunned, Cassandra found she couldn’t move an inch; her legs were trembling like mad. “What do you want from me? What have you done?” she screamed. “What have you done to my friend and dog?”

  The black, garbed figure stared before swinging the basket-hilted claymore sword up level with his face. Cassandra uttered a terrified wail, thinking he was about to sweep down and impale her body on the sword. She wondered if she had time to arm herself with a stone—there wasn’t anything else—when, without uttering a sound, he turned and slipped behind the rocks.

  Shocked, Cassandra couldn’t help her legs crumpling beneath her as she sank into the heather. While all the time she kept saying, oh my god, oh my god, over and over and over.

  Chapter 25 The Present, Inverdarroch

  Rain dripped from her nose as she scrambled to her feet. She had to find Julian…and Bailey. Cassandra’s heart was still thumping from her encounter with the stranger, and even though he had disappeared, she was in no doubt he was still lurking somewhere near. She could feel his presence. She wanted to sob in terror, she felt so sick, but Cassandra knew it wouldn’t help.

  What should she do first? She had enough wits about her to remember the phone in her pocket. With shaking hands, she dialled Angus’s mobile number. As she listened to the ring, she wondered why she hadn’t called the police first.

  Eventually, the phone was picked up, and relief flooded through her when she recognised his voice. “Angus,” she croaked and then let rip.