Poor Mellie’s face crumpled and she looked studiously at the bar.
“She’s moving back in with Sam!” Piper explained quickly, knowing she’d be unable to handle Mel’s tears.
“But that’s wonderful,” she said. “That is good news. You know I could whip up a pizza faster than we could get one up here from town.” She hurried to the pantry and brought out a ready-made pizza crust. “They’re quite good, I promise,” she said.
“Listen,” Evie said, full drill sergeant voice in effect. Mellie paused in unwrapping the crust. “Oh, I’m happy to eat homemade pizza, but this isn’t a celebration.”
Mellie frowned. “You’re not moving back in with Sam, then?”
Piper couldn’t help grinning at Evie’s discomfort. “Wait, you aren’t?” she asked meanly.
She couldn’t help it. It felt good and normal to tease her best friend. If she wasn’t mistaken, she might have even felt a bit hungry.
“Yes, but you know it’s just temporary. We aren’t getting back together.”
Mellie grinned as she sliced mushrooms with ninja speed. “I had that tiramisu I put in the freezer, but if it’s not a celebration, I guess we don’t have to have it.”
“I give up,” Evie said, throwing up her hands in defeat.
They ate the fattening feast in Mellie’s room, the only room that had a working television, and watched old episodes of Project Runway. They stopped teasing Evie and caught up with village gossip, of which Mel was a master, Evie her apprentice.
They didn’t talk about the past or old manuscripts or family secrets. For about an hour, Piper felt light. Full of food, which she ate mainly for the taste and was now uncomfortably stuffed, but for the first time in a long time, she felt lacking in darkness. She didn’t feel afraid for herself or anyone else.
When Mel began to nod off over her dessert plate, Evie and Piper took the dishes and snuck away, turning off the tv and the lights on their way.
“That was fun,” Evie said at the second floor landing. “I’ll miss nights like this.”
“No you won’t, because we’ll still have them.”
Evie nodded and headed to her own room, Piper turning in the opposite direction to hers. When she opened the door, her heaviness began to return. By the time she changed into her nightgown, the familiar sadness had enveloped her once more.
That’s okay, she thought. She could learn to live with it. At least she got a little break.
Hoover whined at the door until she let him in, glad she didn’t have to be alone.
Chapter 9
Evie was on fire trying to find more information about grandma Rose. Piper felt vaguely guilty for being so lethargic and unhelpful. Evie tore through the new boxes when she came over every morning, only taking breaks to feed or entertain Magnus. On the days the baby was with Sam, she barely looked up from her research.
“I’m at an impasse,” she admitted, after a marathon stretch of burying her nose in a giant book of genealogy. The midafternoon sun made her recoil and she put her hand up to her eyes to shade them.
“You’re turning into a mole,” Piper said.
She looked at Evie for a long time, her mouth half open as if she wanted to say something, but not sure. Piper waited, as ever, not in the mood to dig. She might hit a spot that was too sore.
“Listen, I’ve been going over this entire area’s history for a week straight. My eyes are like grains of sand in their sockets. There’s just something weird—” she stopped and shook her head, possibly thinking better of sharing her thoughts.
Piper couldn’t help it, her curiosity was piqued. “Weird how?”
Evie sighed long and hard. “All the clans used to trade with each other. There’s mentions left and right of the Fergusons up until Lachlan was laird. They weren’t especially popular with the Glens, but they showed up at gatherings every once in a while, did a little business here and there. Then after Lachlan, just nothing.”
“The whole thing is strange,” Piper said, keeping her thoughts well separated from her feelings. “The Fergusons not being especially popular is an understatement. They weren’t liked at all. I don’t understand how Lachlan even became the laird.”
Evie shook her head. “But he was. We’ve got that paper that said so, and well, he’s always been down in the crypt.”
Piper flinched and Evie put her hand over her mouth in horror at the realization of what she said, thoughtlessly spouting facts in academic mode. It was true, Lachlan had always been down in the crypt, but he’d also always been with them, strong and vibrant, giving lie to the marble bust that was carved to his exact likeness, standing sentry over his tomb. He’d joked about it before, wondering how he might have ended up there.
Now they didn’t know for sure. They had some paper saying he’d been killed in a battle and had been put in the Glen crypt because for some bizarre reason he was their laird at the time.
“I was thinking about him,” Evie said quietly. “That’s all. And the papers sometimes mentioned a Ferguson.”
Poor Evie was so sensitive. She wanted to grieve properly, help Piper through this terrible time. Piper saw all that on her troubled face and turned away, not ready yet.
“Is that all that seemed weird to you? That the Fergusons stopped coming to gatherings? Maybe they kept to themselves after …”
“Yes, I suppose,” Evie said.
Piper felt a headache stirring. She could easily sink into thoughts of Lachlan. She could spend hours on his beautiful blue eyes alone, the rest of her life could easily slip away, lost in a dream of Lachlan. That would be nice and peaceful, but she didn’t think it would keep her dark nightmares away, or the pressure that continuously built up inside her.
Daria’s voice rang in her ears all the time, taunting her about visiting her dead lover in a time when he was still alive.
‘Ye couldna take Brian from me, I see him when I choose.’
If Evie only knew how badly she wanted to do that, she’d never say Lachlan’s name again. Sliding into a fantasy realm where he was still alive wouldn’t help her silence that voice, or the urge to do the unthinkable.
“We need to stay on track,” she said.
To Evie’s eternal credit, she bounced back quickly. “We need to know why you ended up inheriting the castle.” She looked down at her books with displeasure, then brightened. “Call Herb,” she said. “He’s the one who got me thinking about your grandma in the first place.” She dug around the mess on the table until she found Piper’s phone, sliding it over.
As Piper called her lawyer Herb and half-heartedly bullied him for any information regarding why Fenella left everything to her at the last minute, Evie kept scrawling questions on a scrap of paper and shoving them in her face. Piper finally gave up and asked him to come up for a day or two. Besides the mysteries of the past, there were plenty of things going on with estate business she needed to talk to him about.
“Bring everything,” Evie shouted over Piper’s goodbye.
***
Herb was a charming, funny man, lacking in the outer shark-like qualities that would usually be attributed to a senior partner at a prestigious estate law firm. His sweet good looks and friendly smile only covered his inner shark, though. He was a solicitor through and through. He’d had to be brought up to speed when Piper was forced to return to the eighteenth century to rescue Magnus.
Piper gave him the barest details in case she never returned. She hadn’t wanted him to think she’d just abandoned the estate, and between her exacting lists, Herb’s extreme discretion, and Evie’s surprising abilities at running the place, they’d managed until she got back. Herb had taken it all rather well, only thinking she was insane for ten or fifteen minutes before he finally believed her, with Lachlan’s persuasive help.
The details they gave him were sparse. He knew Lachlan was from the past, but didn’t know that she had a distant ancestor who was purest evil, and who was now trying to take over her soul. They mostly made it
seem like they were just extremely interested in genealogy, to the point that Piper had to pop back to the eighteenth century now and again to gather facts.
“What did you bring us?” Evie asked, holding out her hands like an eager child.
Herb smiled indulgently at her, and handed over his entire satchel full of papers. Piper suspected he had a small crush on Evie, which was inevitable after having spent so much time with her while Piper was in time travel limbo.
Evie was gorgeous, funny, sweet and brilliant. Piper could never begrudge her the constant fawning most men ended up doing over her, because she was completely clueless to it.
Her face fell when she opened the package to find a stack of boring looking, completely modern papers. “What’s all this?”
“The papers that Fenella filled out to have her estate turned over to the conservancy foundation. Weeks of work, that, including wrangling with the government. Then she changed her mind and it all went to Piper. There were a dozen of us who didn’t sleep for three days getting it all sorted.”
“But what changed her mind, Herb,” Piper said patiently, before Evie’s head exploded. “That’s what we need to know.”
Herb accepted a cup of tea and sat down, scratching his head with a worried look on his face.
“Did she swear you to secrecy?” Evie asked.
“No, it isn’t that,” he said. “I wish I knew. She had a letter from her son-in-law, that’s all I know.”
“Son-in-law?” Piper asked, stumped. She remembered her mother complaining about some old codger in Las Vegas. Was he still alive?
“Aye, it came out of the blue, she said. From the states. I never saw the letter, but she was adamant about changing her will. It was all to go to you.”
Piper hadn’t realized how much she wanted to get to the bottom of things until the crushing disappointment of reaching another dead end hit her square in the chest. She could tell Evie felt it too, biting on her lip and staring out the darkening window.
“I’m sorry I can’t be more help. I would have thought it might be in the safety deposit box she left especially for you, my dear, but I suppose she must have destroyed it.”
Piper didn’t register his words until Evie coughed. “Special safety deposit box? Oh God, I think I did know about that. I just …”
Her great-grandmother had left her so many things to go through. Hundreds of boxes had been labeled for her special attention. There were too many bank accounts and charitable organizations to keep track of, the secret safes that kept popping up in walls, the books with cryptic messages written on their pages— it was all so much to sort through, even before she found a massive, angry Highlander from another century in the tower. Evie looked at her as if she’d committed a crime, but surely she had to be forgiven for overlooking that one little thing?
Evie already had on her coat. “We’re going now,” she said. Piper glanced at the clock, not wanting to be the one to tell her it was well past the tiny village bank’s operating hours. “No, don’t look at the clock, we’re going now. Sam can call the manager, he knows him from birth, no doubt. You, go find your key.”
Herb and Piper exchanged a look. Herb nervously made his excuses and made them promise to call if they needed anything else, but he was going to have to be on his way. After she ran upstairs and found the deposit box key in a drawer of a musical jewelry box, Piper let Evie stuff her into her coat and drag her to the car.
“We can get Mags, save Sam a trip up here tonight,” she said as she pulled out of the drive and carefully wound her way down the long road into the village.
It was dusk and the lights of the town square shone welcomingly as they pulled up in front of Sam’s book store. It wasn’t technically a parking place, so Piper slid over to the driver’s seat to drive around while Evie jumped out to cajole Sam into doing her bidding.
When she drove back around several minutes later, Sam stood outside on the curb with Evie and Mags, the picture of an adorable family, if she ignored the crazed look in Evie’s eyes. Sam leaned over and poked his head in the passenger window while Evie got Magnus settled in his seat in the back.
“Robbing banks now, are we?” he asked.
She scowled at him. “Did you get a hold of Mr. McReynolds?” she asked, trying to pretend nothing was amiss about making a bank manager come out after hours to open up her safety deposit box. It was embarrassing enough being a billionaire without throwing it around and making people jump through hoops.
“Aye, it’s him and his wife’s twentieth anniversary. He was getting ready to come out for dinner at Maison Craig anyway, so it’s hardly out of his way.” Sam smirked at her.
“Oh God,” she groaned, feeling worse by the minute.
“It won’t take him but a second to let us in and out,” Evie said from the back, throwing Sam a dark look. “You never ask for special favors. This is important.” She pushed past Sam to get into the passenger seat and set to ignoring him. Piper wondered if their first week living together again wasn’t going too well.
“You sure you don’t just want me to keep the lad?” he asked, leaning in to kiss Mags goodbye.
She looked pained at having to be beholden to him for anything, but finally relented. “Okay, that would be helpful, thanks. I’m going to be quite late probably, so don’t wait up.” She barely looked at him as she spoke and the second he had Magnus back out of the car, she waved her hand for Piper to drive off.
“Don’t ask,” she said in a warning voice as they pulled away.
Mr. McReynolds waited for them in front of the bank, a wide smile on his face. He looked the complete opposite of annoyed, which made Piper feel infinitely worse. She had called Maison Craig and told them she would be paying for the McReynolds’ meal that evening and to give them a special bottle of their best champagne, but she still apologized profusely as he let them into the building and led them to the back room where the deposit boxes were.
The bank was a small branch of the Bank of Scotland, with one teller window and this tiny room containing two rows of locked boxes built into the wall. The building shared space with the post office, and the other wall of the room had two rows of post office boxes. It wasn’t exactly high security, the room hadn’t even been locked, but the village wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime, either.
Mr. McReynolds actually looked excited when he and Piper used their keys to get the box out of the wall. His eyes were bright with anticipation as they set it on the counter.
“Thank you,” Evie said dismissively.
“Of course, of course, just let me know when you’re finished.” He slunk out of the room.
Piper unlocked it and stood there with her hand on the lid, holding it open a fraction of an inch, while she pondered what she might find. The box could hold anything. Answers to her heritage, or more mysteries. It could be filled with junk jewelry, bags of diamonds, photographs. It could be empty.
“Open it,” Evie pleaded.
“Shouldn’t we take it home and look at it there?” she asked. “It’s probably a lot to go over.”
Evie stared at her, hands clasped together under her chin. “I won’t make it,” she promised.
Piper let out a long breath and flung open the lid in one fell swoop, like ripping off a band-aid. They nearly collided as they leaned over to see what was inside. Piper laughed when she saw it was just two things. A regular envelope with a US airmail stamp on it, addressed to Fenella, and a manilla envelope that looked crisp and new, completely unmarked.
Evie opened the letter and held it out to her. Piper scanned the familiar handwriting and read it aloud. “Dearest mother, I ask that you might forgive me for running away. I hope that I didn’t cause you too much pain. I pray I do not cause you more. I beg you to follow the enclosed map to find further instructions. I am sorry every day. Your daughter, Rose.” She looked up to find Evie frowning at the manilla envelope that remained in the box. “That’s so sad, but there isn’t an enclosed map.”
“When did she write that?” Evie asked, still looking at the envelope as if it was a snake about to strike.
Piper saw the date on the letter was from the year Rose died, but the postmark on the envelope was recent, just a couple weeks before Fenella passed away. Rose must have instructed her second husband to hang onto it and send it to Fenella when she was near the end of her life. He’d either kept tabs on her somehow, or had just taken a lucky guess.
“That’s either the map or the further instructions,” she said, placing the letter back in its envelope and flicking the larger manilla envelope with her fingernail. She was surprised to find Evie hadn’t already torn it open and memorized the contents. Her friend’s sudden lack of excitement unnerved her. “It’s kind of odd,” she mused. “I’m not getting any freaky, otherworldly feelings from any of this.”
Evie nodded. “That’s good, I guess. Are you going to open the other one?”
Feeling like she’d been granted permission, Piper took it out of the box and pinched open the clasp, trying to steady herself. When it was open, she slid the piece of aged parchment out onto the bank counter, immediately recognizing Rose’s handwriting. Once again almost clapping their heads together in their haste to read it, they leaned over it, hurriedly scanning the page, reading bits out loud.
“Want you to know I’ve found happiness,” Piper murmured.
“Beg you once again for forgiveness and hope you’ll understand,” Evie said a moment later.
They both stopped at the last line and looked at each other. “Above all else, the land must go to the child of Finley Temperance.”
“That’s you,” Evie said. “She wrote a letter while she was in the past, saying the land would need to go to her daughter’s child.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “She must have hidden it somewhere in the castle or on the estate grounds in case something happened to her when she got back. Except, how could she have known at that time that she’d make it back or if your mom would have a kid. And why didn’t she just write that stuff in her modern letter?"
Reckoning (Book 4 of Lost Highlander series) Page 8