“Three of them already?” Perpetua’s eyes hardened as she stared south to the loch road. “In that case we’d better hurry.”
“You found them?” He pulled on a pair of leather gloves and holstered his pistol, each movement careful and precise. “Go to the car. I’ll join you there in ten minutes, after I alert the others.”
He put down the phone, staring out at the snow, thinking about old plans and a new world that was to come.
Thinking about the price of disloyalty.
And he smiled.
“YES, WE’RE HERE, NICHOLAS. THERE WERE NO GLITCHES, and no one seems to have followed us.” Standing in Glen-brae House’s quiet library, Jared watched snow whisper against the windows. “Anything new there?”
“I had visitors from London here this morning. They were stunned to find Maggie gone, and you with her. They made a point of conveying the message that she had twenty-four hours to return. After that, they will take full action to find her.”
Jared paced, telephone in hand. “They’re not to be underestimated.”
“I agree. And I’m certain that whatever they are investigating extends beyond Daniel Kincade’s jewel theft.”
“Have there been any more messages from him?”
“None. Izzy called a while ago with the routing on Kincade’s call here to the abbey. It was placed from a phone box in London, so no leads there.”
Jared hadn’t really expected any. Daniel Kincade was too canny to be trapped by a single phone call. “Any other news I should know?”
“You had another phone call this morning from Dr. Mc-Namara’s office in London. She sounded quite urgent, something about a new medication she wanted to prescribe.”
“She’s one of the government medical team. No doubt my instability will be fully documented in their files. A perfect excuse to have me removed from the picture.”
“But this new medication—”
“If Dr. McNamara phones again, tell her I’m unavailable.” Jared’s face hardened. “We’re moving to a small cottage up the loch, someplace far less accessible. I’m only surprised that the Wishwells offered it to us.”
“The three old sisters? Don’t tell me they’re meddling already?”
“They’re been quite helpful, actually, though there’s something odd about them.”
“Enjoy your stay in the cottage. Just keep in mind that the government search will now begin in earnest.”
“They’re bound to put considerable pressure on you to tell them where we went.”
Nicholas laughed grimly. “I’m having a pleasant time concocting the answers I’m going to give them. In fact, I already have a complete itinerary mapped out for you. South America, I think. Then maybe a small town in North Africa. I even think you might make a stop in Sri Lanka.”
Jared laughed dryly. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“So you should be. I’ll phone Hope and Ronan if I have any news. I won’t try your cellular phone, just in case it can be traced. Meanwhile, stay put.”
As Jared was putting down the phone, Ronan MacLeod walked in with two suitcases. “I brought these down. I’ll take them out to the car while you finish in here.”
By the time Jared joined MacLeod outside, storm clouds were piling across the cliffs. “More snow coming, do you think?”
“So it appears. Exactly what Perpetua Wishwell predicted. The woman is almost always right about such things.” Ronan finished stowing the last suitcase in Jared’s trunk. “There’s an old storage shed behind the Wishwells’ cottage where you can leave your car. No need to alert any strangers to your presence.”
Jared slid behind the wheel while MacLeod settled in the other seat. “Tell me something,” Jared said slowly. “Was there a gray cat sitting on the fence when we left, or was I imagining it?”
“No cat that I noticed.” MacLeod glanced out at the swirling landscape of white. “Not much of anything to be seen now, I’m afraid.”
There was a sharp prickling between Jared’s shoulders. There had been a cat, he was certain of it. The impossible thing was that the cat looked exactly like the great gray creature he had seen at Draycott Abbey.
He shoved the thought from his mind, concentrating on the narrow road. “Have you lived at Glenbrae long?”
“It seems like centuries. Of course, when I met Hope, it was over for me in an instant.” His lips curved. “I expect it must have been like that with you and Maggie.”
“There are problems.”
“Problems always have solutions. Meanwhile, you’re among friends here.”
Halfway to the loch road, a brown car emerged over the hill. “Someone you know?” Jared asked softly.
Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “No one from Glenbrae. I can count the cars on one hand.” His voice tightened, “Could it be someone you want to avoid?”
Jared was taking no chances. He turned the wheel sharply, pulling onto a narrow gravel road that skirted the loch. Behind them a horn blasted shrilly. The brown car roared alongside and cut across the snowy road.
A white-haired figure in black military uniform shoved open the door, waving briskly. “Commander MacNeill, thank heaven I found you.”
“Preston?” Jared stared at his old superior officer. “What are you doing here in Scotland?”
“Long story, MacNeill. Took me hours in this damnable weather. But I’ve had some information about the box delivered to the abbey. It was some entirely new chemical explosive, and I wanted to discuss it with you privately.” His eyes flickered to MacLeod. “If that’s possible.”
“But why—”
Jared stiffened as a gun barrel brushed his neck, and Preston slid in behind him. “No more questions. You’ve put us to a great deal of trouble, you know.”
MacLeod was already twisting in his seat when his door was flung open and he was gripped from behind by a man in a black jumpsuit. There was a short, tense struggle. Then a brutal kick to the forehead left MacLeod sprawled unconscious in the snow.
Preston’s eyes narrowed. “First you’ll give me the weapon in your shoulder holster.”
Jared hesitated, then complied.
Preston smiled thinly, “And now the backup weapon which is no doubt hidden in your boot. I worked with you in Asia, remember?”
Jared bit back a curse. But with Preston’s weapon jabbing his neck, he had no choice but to turn over his smaller pistol.
Preston gave a curt nod.
“That must be the cottage up ahead. We watched you come here this morning.”
So they knew that, too. Grimly, Jared played out possible scenarios. “You’ll be looking for Maggie, of course.”
“Of course,” Preston said coldly.
“She’s not here. She went over to the village with the innkeeper to pick up some supplies.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Commander. We’ve had you two in sight since the moment you left the abbey. The costumes were an amusing twist, I must admit. That should keep the bureaucrats off your trail for a few more days. By then, the problem will be irrelevant.” Preston laughed softly, wedging the pistol under Jared’s jaw. “Drive to the cottage. I have a few questions to ask the daughter of Daniel Kincade.”
Somewhere a door creaked open. The wind gave a shrill cry, racing down the glen. Maggie turned from the window with a start. “Morwenna?”
There was no answer.
“Jared?”
Fire crackled beside her in the silent cottage. No one moved outside in the snow. Maggie rubbed her hands, strangely chilled at being here alone. Where were the Wish-wells and the others?
She turned and saw a shadow cross the doorway. Fear turned to surprise and her eyes narrowed. “Anders?” He looked far more tired than the last time she had seen him in London. His beard was bushy and untended, and there were dark circles under his heavy glasses. “Why are you here?”
He moved forward uncertainly, hands locked at his waist. “For many reasons.”
“I don’t understand. How
did you find me here in Scotland?”
Suddenly fear left Maggie frozen. Was Anders one of her father’s enemies? Had he coldly betrayed his oldest friend, then followed her here for some dark purpose only he knew?
Regret played across his gaunt face. “I know you don’t understand,” he said. “That is also my fault.”
“You betrayed him?”
“I suppose in a way I did. Daniel Kincade died so that I could live.” His voice changed as he spoke. The heavy accent vanished, leaving only the lengthened vowels of a Boston boyhood, and each word clawed at Maggie’s memory.
Recognition came to her in a cruel rush. Tears burned her eyes as she struggled to her feet. “No,” she whispered. “You’re Anders. You have to be.”
“Perhaps I’ve played my role so long that I forget who I am, my love.”
“You’re not my father,” she rasped. “I don’t believe it.”
But she saw the small signs of familiarity now. How could she not have noticed them before?
Only because she’d thought him dead.
On their evening in London, she’d seen exactly what she’d expected to see: an old man who was much changed by age and stress. Maggie had put any other differences down to her own perceptions, altered by maturity and the passage of years.
She stared at him blindly. Her father. Not dead at all.
Her breath caught as she struggled with the need to run to him. Struggled with the urge to shout and accuse in anger. “You let me believe you were gone,” she choked out; voicing the thoughts left her bleeding inside. “You left me to fight the accusations and cry over your grave while they hounded us and called you a thief and a coward. And I did,” she choked out. “Month after month. Because I believed in you.”
“This was the safest way, Maggie.” Daniel Kincade rubbed his eyes. “This was the only way.” Slowly, gently, he knelt before her and took her hands. “Anders knew he had a heart condition which left him little time. I’d spoken to him of my danger, and he made the offer to let me assume his identity. He’d planned a visit to a clinic in Singapore, but as he’d suspected, he didn’t survive the month. And I took his place, just as we’d planned, after arranging my death in that flight over Sumatra.”
“But there were more bodies found in the wreckage. What happened to them? You didn’t—”
“Kill them?” He shook his head grimly.
“There are ways, my love.” Her father touched her face gently, as if he was afraid she might disappear. “That bit of jungle isn’t the easiest area to search, and the local teams had almost no equipment. Thanks to incessant rains and two mudslides, their evidence was nearly useless. I’d planned it that way, of course.”
Something warm dropped onto Maggie’s hand. She realized it was a tear. Whether hers or her father’s she could not say.
He was alive. He was here.
And he hadn’t trusted her with the truth.
Her throat tightened, burning painfully. “But why? Was it all some great trick?”
“I’m sorry, Maggie. God help me, I wish I could have done things a different way. But these men have no morals and a frightening bond of loyalty. An enemy to one of them is an enemy to all of them. My death was the only way to keep you safe.”
She pulled away from him, struggling to understand. He must have planned his disappearance for months. What could possibly require such secrecy and betrayal? “What do they want from you?”
“What men have always wanted. Power, information. Control over other men.” He caught her hands, frowning at the red welt along her palm. “This is new?”
She nodded, mute.
“You’ve got to be more careful. I’ve always warned you to be careful, and you never listened.”
Nothing had changed, Maggie thought. Her father was still the genius, still teaching, badgering, and controlling her.
Except that now he’d put her life and a dozen others into danger. At that moment Maggie stiffened, seeing Daniel Kincade exactly as he was—a passionate man with great weaknesses.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You have the ring I gave you in London?”
Maggie nodded slowly.
“You studied the facets, I take it?”
She frowned. “They were badly formed. I couldn’t understand why Anders—or you—would have called it beautiful. For some reason there was an extra row of facets just above the crown.”
He nodded. “And another row at the base. Too small for beauty, but for my purpose they were perfect. It’s all about light, Maggie.” His hands closed urgently. “If a focused beam is sent through those rows of facets at the proper angle, the light is distorted.”
“Distorted how?”
“A complete shift. Over time it can disrupt all nearby electromagnetic fields. Do you understand what that means?”
“No radios. No televisions.”
“That and a thousand other things. I’d only been able to produce a limited area of distortion, and I needed a different facet arrangement to broaden the angle. I’d been working on the project for quite a while. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Maggie? It would be the ultimate power, a means to shut down all communication equipment. Do you realize the advantage that would give an attacking army in war?”
Maggie’s whole body felt stiff and cold. She pushed away, locking her arms over her waist. “Who are you?” she whispered. “All you talk about is war and power and control. I don’t know you. I see now that I never did.”
His hands tightened. “My design work was real enough. I loved the jewels and their history. But I always wanted to see more, to understand everything. That’s how I was recruited twenty-five years ago, because I was smart and tough and curious. I used all my friendships and my contacts, and I won’t apologize for it,” he said coldly. “I believe in everything I did and the country I did it for.”
“And just what country was that?” Maggie whispered.
“You can ask me such a question?” His body stiffened sharply. “You think I would betray my government?”
“I don’t know anything about you. How could I when you never told me the truth?”
“You’ve got to understand,” he said urgently. “All my research was kept secret, closely monitored by a military team. But things began to change. The reports I wrote were taken away unread, and the chain of command changed. I was ordered to report to one man, one of a group who believed they had the exclusive right to create their own private army. They meant to use my discoveries to help them do it. I played along at first, hoping for a look at their complete network. It is staggering, Maggie. They have believers in a dozen continents and a dozen armies, and their loyalty borders on madness.” He made an impatient sound, achingly like the sound she had heard him make on a dozen occasions when he was inspecting a flawed stone or a carelessly formed setting.
That single sound told Maggie more than hours of explanations. This was the father she remembered, a man always quick to criticize a competitor’s work. The same father who had never had time for his lonely daughter.
“I couldn’t take the chance of telling you, Maggie. The less you knew, the safer you would stay. I believed that then and I believe it now.”
She tried to harden her heart. She tried to hate him for the cold-blooded decisions he had made. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I need the ring. I knew they were watching me in London, and I couldn’t chance it falling into the wrong hands. And when you appeared, I gave it to you. I knew the Scotsman would keep you safe. Otherwise, I’d never have taken such a risk. In case they found me, I wanted to be certain you would have the stones, Maggie. Perhaps someday you would unlock the full value of all I’d discovered.” He pulled off his glasses and bent forward urgently. “It’s in the stones, little peach. The power is in the cut. The right facets and gem material can do things no man can imagine.”
The stones.
Of course,
that was the reason. If not for them she might never have known he was still alive. But Maggie couldn’t care about stones and their powers. She could only care about the man. “How did you change your face?” she whispered, seeing all that was familiar blurred over all that was different.
“Surgery. Exercises. Cosmetic implants. It’s not as difficult as you might imagine. I had access to a criminal world which specializes in such things, remember? The trick was in seeing that my real identity was never revealed to those who did the surgical corrections. Then I had to make the exchange exactly at the moment Anders died. Everyone was astounded at his miraculous recovery, I can assure you. Now enough about the past,” he said grimly. “I have very little time before their brotherhood traces me here. I have five names of those in London who are active at high levels, but I’m going to need the ring when I take my evidence to the authorities. It will be crucial to making my case believable.”
Gently Maggie pulled a silken string from beneath her sweater. On the end hung the ring that her father, as Anders, had given her that rainy night in London. “Take it. It’s yours anyway.”
His hands closed over hers almost angrily. “No, I told you the truth. It was meant to be yours. Everything I had was meant to be yours. It broke my heart when you sold my last stones, but you were wonderful. From what I’ve heard, you did a splendid job.”
“Don’t,” she said brokenly, not wanting to remember. She knew nothing of the shadow world he inhabited, and she wanted to remember her father as he had been, flawed but generous. Not this cold-eyed stranger with impossible tales of conspiracy and revenge.
“I love you, Maggie, and I loved your mother. My profession had nothing to do with that. But each year the jobs grew longer, the game more complex.”
“A game? Is that what it was to you?” She stared at him, furious and shaken. “All those months you were gone and all the days that we missed you were simply a game?”
He shook his head. “I considered it an honor to complete the work I was given. I won’t see everything I’ve discovered fall into the hands of madmen.”
“You came back too late. I’ve gotten over you, Daddy. I don’t think I want you back, not like this.” The words burned in her throat, driven by pride and betrayal. “I can’t afford the damage you always seem to cause.”
The Perfect Gift Page 34