* * * * * *
Duncan allowed his eyes to roam over Angela when she entered her hotel's lobby. Where did she get a dress like that? Its color was unusual. He couldn't tell if it was gray or plum or smoke. He decided to call it a smoky lavender. Held up by sheer netting gathered into a diamond lattice pattern, the garment stunned. An overlay of the netting continued onto the fitted bodice, tiny sparkly thingamajigs adorning the spots where gathers met. Long, tight sleeves constructed from the see-through netted trellis, attached to a straight, low neckline. The bodice was snug to below the waist, where it flared into a bell shape, stopping just above the knee. The maker had covered the lower portion of the dress with small tabs of gossamer fabric, layered like miniature shingles. Slight color and texture differentials fascinated anyone looking at the gown, as it seemed to change shades with every small movement of the wearer. Duncan thought it appeared as though a thousand butterflies clung to the dress.
The Scotsman watched as the man behind the counter called to his girlfriend, then hurried around the front desk with an article of clothing draped over one arm. The hotel employee distracted Angela. She hadn't spotted Duncan yet. She turned around while the man draped a matching short cape over her shoulders. She caught sight of Duncan and waved, then thanked her helper.
"Do you like it?" she asked after approaching the investigator.
"Aye," was all he said, resisting the urge to run his hands over the garment's unusual texture.
The bellman held the door open as he guided Angela from the lobby. Her shiny auburn hair bounced across her back with each step. In the car, Duncan stroked her beautiful mane.
"Did that dress come from Sunny?" he asked.
Duncan knew Sunny Bentwell was a touchy subject. However, he now wanted a completely honest relationship with the lass… no secrets between them.
"Yes," Angela said, hesitating. "Does that bother you?"
"It shouldn't. I'd just like to know when she gave it to you."
"She had Nigel send it to me as a Christmas gift. It's Chanel, which she knows I love."
Duncan hated the thought of his Angela associating with someone in a mental hospital, no matter that it was an exclusive psychiatric clinic. He didn't want his girlfriend manipulated by the wily, worldly Sunny.
"I plan to visit her before spring," the lass added, in a quiet tone.
"We'll see about that," Duncan mumbled, figuring the black, backless number Angela wore to dinner at the Wallace's probably came from Sunny as well.
"What did you say?" she asked.
"Nothing. I just don't like you keeping things from me, that's all. Let's forget about it and enjoy tonight, shall we?"
His voice betrayed a bit of superiority.
Angela gave her boyfriend a quick look. She knew him well from years of serving as his assistant. He could be a handful, but she deemed him worth the effort.
Duncan had to finagle eight additional tickets to the gala. He'd arrived just on time for the briefing and rehearsal that afternoon. Wrangling the media representative and begging for extra seating added to the stress of his day. Harold announced at the last moment that he'd invited Penny, his girlfriend from Lindisfarne, to attend the event. Donald somehow made the assumption that Reggie was invited and had conveyed as much to the ornithologist. Messages from the laird of Norcroft Manor clued Duncan into the fact that he'd require admission as well. His mum stressed that under no circumstances would Armondo be excluded from any family activities.
He'd been granted the extra tickets, but the way the event's media officer treated him left him feeling a bit soiled. He supposed the woman was what people referred to as a panther. When he relayed the tale to Angus, his brother laughed and corrected him. According to Angus, the woman was a cougar.
The investigator shook his head, ignoring the silence that had descended on the car. He pulled up to a red carpet outside of the gala's venue. A long walkway had been roped off on the pavement in front of the Balmoral. Duncan glanced at Angela, hoping her beauty would distract him from memories of last year's experiences at this hotel. A valet opened his door while another attendant helped her from the vehicle. His other guests arrived separately. He scanned the crowd for his relatives and friends, but didn't recognize anyone. An aide whispered directions as to where Duncan and his date should wait before walking the red carpet. Reporters and cameramen flooded the area, producing the never ending flashes of light that accompanied their presence.
"You're very lovely, Angela," Duncan whispered in the girl's ear.
She looked her former boss up and down. He'd chosen to wear a black kilt and jacket to the gala. He looked incredibly handsome in his formal attire. She decided to forgive his earlier faux pas.
"Thank you. So do you, Duncan."
"Hello there," James Dewar called to his son.
Duncan looked up to see his mum, dad, Angus, Mondo, and Reggie approaching. The small group huddled together awaiting their turn. Though cold, there wasn't any breeze, so standing around outside proved bearable. Angus explained that Harold would arrive later with Penny, while James and Reggie hit it off. They exchanged teaching stories and seemed fast friends now that their circumstances were favorable. Armondo and Margaret nattered about recipes and restaurant plans while Angus looked on.
An event aide, a lass in her twenties, grabbed Duncan's elbow and tugged him onto the red carpet. He reached for Angela as photographer's flashes went off all around them. They headed towards a man with a microphone, as they'd been instructed to do. He recognized the host of Edinburgh Today, Nick Jones, who waved for them to approach through the crowd.
Duncan advanced towards the reporter, jostled by others on the carpet. From the opposite direction, he saw trouble approach. Wearing a skin tight black dress, held together on both sides by red laces that revealed far more skin that they concealed, strolled Cassandra Baines, waving at the public and stopping to converse with fans. He'd lost his grip on Angela's hand and when he turned to reconnect with the lass, others moved between them. Still, he caught the look on her face and it wasn't good. She'd also spotted Cassandra.
The crowd propelled Duncan near the host, who, grabbing the Scotsman's elbow, pulled him from the flow of human traffic and into a spotlight. Video cameras rolled and reporters flashed pictures. He blinked in an attempt to shield himself from the harsh lights and felt an arm entwine with his own. Thank goodness. Angela had reached him.
"Now don't try and tell me this isn't a happy couple," Nick Jones said into the camera. "You've been spotted around Edinburgh together this week, shopping for jewelry. Is there anything you'd like to share with us? An announcement perhaps?" the enthusiastic host asked in his best announcer-man voice.
Duncan looked to his left, glad to have a chance to acknowledge Angela in public and set the record straight. His jaw dropped. It wasn't his girlfriend who had laced her arm through his. It was Cassandra Baines! The model bared her teeth in a deceptive smile, batting her eyelashes, before flipping a long strand of hair over her shoulder in a flirtatious manner. He glanced around, panicked, desperate, and hoping to see a way out of this.
He caught a glimpse of Angela, standing a meter behind him. He thought he'd rather die than see the look of disappointment and pain that spread across her face when their eyes met. She'd heard what Nick Jones said. Duncan had made the trip to Edinburgh before Christmas and did visit a jewelry store, but not with or for Cassandra. What must Angela think?
"Well, I can't speak for Duncan," Cassandra said, her voice oozing with sugar. "But, I am deliriously happy," she added, splaying her free hand across her cleavage, exposing an enormous diamond supported by her ring finger.
The multitudes cheered. Cassandra raised her arm straight up, as high as it would go and flipped her hand back and forth, showing what looked like an engagement ring to the mob. Duncan thought he might faint. Just as Cassandra turned to him, pressing one shoulder up against his, slinking closer, someone shoved the Scotsman, hard, to the right.
Duncan stumb
led back, away from the model and into a throng of people entering the gala, landing on his rear. He looked up to see Mondo giving him a finger wag, as if he'd been caught in something naughty, before the chef stepped over him. Behind Armondo, Margaret shook her head in disapproval, giving him a fierce scowl before straightening her dress and walking away, to the entrance, with a regal dignity. James and Reggie hurried along behind his mother, avoiding eye contact with the investigator. It was as if his mum shook the dust of her eldest child from her feet.
"Actually, I'm the one taking on this old heap!" the voice of Angus boomed above the masses.
Duncan glanced up in time to see his brother lay a long, passionate kiss on Cassandra. The model tried to struggle free, but Angus was too strong and only the very observant would notice her efforts. He had never been so glad to hear or see his brother.
"She aint what she used to be, but she's all mine!" Angus continued, after releasing the gobsmacked model from his kiss.
He spun Cassandra towards the gala's entrance and gave her a gentle push, slapping her on the bum before waving to the public and swarming press.
"Gitty up!" he called after Cassandra, utilizing some of the western lingo he loved.
Duncan stood and hastened after his brother. Just inside the entrance, he saw Cassandra turn on him, fury all over her face. Angus grabbed the model by the wrist and pulled her to him with a jerk.
"Getting a little long in tooth for these kind of escapades, aren't ye Cassandra?" Angus said with his own brand of cool controlled fury. He added, "Ye're the worse for wear," eyeing her up and down.
The investigator watched the model glance around the lobby, fearing his brother's insults might be overheard. Duncan saw Cassandra's calculating face as she evaluated her situation in a split second. The model shuddered and wrenched her arm free from his brother. She raised her chin, spun around, and marched to the ladies' loo. Duncan wasted no time approaching Angus.
"Thank you, Angus."
"I dinnae do it fir ye. I did it fir Angela. Jist go an fin yer lass before it's too late, ye bloomin' bampot!"
Duncan didn't stick around. He knew his brother's sharp brogue meant he was irritated. He heard a bell as he scurried frantically around the lobby looking for his lass and saw the lights blink in the ballroom -- a cue that everyone should take their seats. Where is Angela?
The investigator turned to see what caused a commotion to his left. Something was going on in the loo. Then, he spotted Angela, stalking out of the ladies' lounge. She looked around, dropping her head before walking in the direction of the doors that led back outside.
"Please don't go," Duncan said.
He'd run to the lass and caught her before she exited the gala.
"I can and will explain everything, but the event's starting."
She gave Duncan an icy stare. He'd just lectured her on the way there about honesty, and then she heard a story that made it look as if he'd been running around behind her back with Cassandra Baines.
"What about her ring?" Angela demanded with a tear stained face.
"I don't know anything about that ring. It's probably a fake!"
He raised his voice in frustration. Why was this happening? Angela must have missed his brother's performance on the red carpet.
"If you leave, I'm going with you," Duncan stated.
Angela drew in a deep breath. He knew she wouldn't want him to let his family and friends down. This was their big night, too. He relied on the girl's kind nature.
"All right," the lass acquiesced.
Duncan reached for her elbow.
"But don't you dare touch me!" she said before stomping into the ballroom.
-12-
The Real Contest
Duncan awoke to the phone ringing, and ringing and ringing. The Dewar house was full up, and the oldest son, out of favor at the moment, had been relegated to the divan in the parlor. Mondo, Angus and Harold all shared a room. How the corpulent chef fit on the Scotsman's childhood single bed, Duncan couldn't imagine, but he feared his mattress would never be the same. Penny took his sisters' old bedroom. That left the couch for the investigator.
He shook his head and sat up, rubbing his sore back and cracking his neck. The sofa was not at all comfortable for his large frame and height. Either his head had to rest on one of the couch's stiff arms or his feet on the other. He'd spent the night shifting between the two. Last evening came flooding back, like a bomb exploding thousands of particles of information all at once in his brain, and Duncan felt a headache coming on. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his temple. His family and friends had maintained an uncomfortable silence during the awards ceremony, all except for Angus.
Every so often his brother muttered an insult under his breath. Angus positioned himself between Angela and Duncan, and had trouble controlling his wrath.
"Glaikit," Angus spat in a low tone. A few moments later, Duncan heard, "Bampot."
Duncan tried to ignore the insults which grew worse throughout the evening.
"Doaty," Angus murmured, followed by "Dobber."
The investigator understood his brother's position. Angus had rescued him, but now must face the ramifications of being known as the fiancée of Cassandra Baines. The investigator was certain he'd witnessed his brother growing fond of Skye Merriwether over their holiday. Last night's heroics wouldn't bode well for that relationship.
"Lavvy Heid," Angus mumbled, followed by "Numpty," and "Cake," at three minute intervals.
The program wore on. Half a dozen people were being honored. Duncan received his award after a surgeon who'd discovered a treatment for toenail fungus, but before a young lad in commercials who had attained the incredible feat of accumulating three million social media followers, worldwide.
"Baw jaws," Angus grumbled from just parted lips.
Duncan thought his brother had a future in ventriloquism. Even Harold heard the insults, craning his head to see where they came from. He'd arrived late with Penny, but managed to find their table while creating a small disturbance with security. Everyone else in his party ignored the comments, if they heard them at all.
"Nyaff," followed "Heid Banger," which preceded "Eejit," but followed "Roaster."
After the gala wrapped up, the family escorted Angela from the ballroom, sticking Duncan with Mondo before he knew what happened. It was a disheartening ride home as the chef questioned him about his double life, standards, morals, and where it would all end.
Today can only be an improvement, Duncan thought as he stumbled into the kitchen. A momentary pause in the phone ringing gave the household a chance to berate the investigator.
"This is shameful!" Margaret exclaimed, slapping the back of her hand against a newspaper. "It's downright disgusting, Duncan."
He took the paper from his mum's clenched hand. Dewar Brothers Fancy Same Beauty read the headline. A large head shot of a startled and disheveled Duncan sat side by side with a close-up of Angus sporting his dazzling smile. The blow-up of the investigator must have been taken right after he stumbled to the ground.
Angus tossed another tabloid at Duncan. That rag's headline stated A Star is Born and featured an incredible shot of Angus waving at the crowd from the red carpet. He did look movie star handsome. Harold turned his paper around so his brother could view it's headlines. Frisky Dewar Can't Resist Cassandra in large bold print, which appeared above a picture captured the exact moment when Angus slapped the model's nether region, couldn't be missed. The worst of it was he'd turned his face to the cameras and grinned. He looked like he was enjoying himself. He looked like a pervert.
The phone rang. Margaret picked up the receiver, held it for a split second, then slammed it down into its cradle. Duncan wondered what was up.
"You know who that was?" Margaret asked her eldest son, shrill.
She did not wait for an answer.
"Another agent. They're calling for your brother non-stop. The shenanigans you forced upon him are ruining his reput
ation. Look out the front window. Go on!" she ordered.
A mob of reporters filled the pavement in front of the Dewar home.
"We haven't had an issue like this since the last time you got into trouble, Duncan. Honestly, you were the one that never gave us a moment's worry. That's not the case anymore!" Margaret fumed.
"Hmm, well that's not entirely true, Mum. Remember when ye caught him dolling himself up with yer toiletries?" Angus interjected.
Mondo turned to face Duncan. The chef's jaw dropped before he shook his head, back and forth. The man clearly thought Margaret's eldest a lost cause.
Penny blushed and stared at the floor. She wasn't familiar with the story of how a young Duncan got caught applying his mum's make-up, attempting to conceal a black eye. Harold shoved another egg in his mouth, his blank expression giving the impression this morning was no different than any other in the Dewar household.
"All right. That's enough. I'm sure Duncan feels worse than any of us about now," James Dewar said.
"I'm nae sure he feels worse than me. What will the people in the kirk think when they see this," Angus said, holding up the picture of him giving Cassandra a whack on the bum. "I've worked hard to restore my reputation. What will the vicar say?" he added.
"He says you ought to ring him up right away," Harold chimed in.
All eyes turned to the redheaded lad, munching on a piece of toast. Harold nodded.
"Aye, he called first thing early this morning, Angus. Sounded concerned," Harold commented, still bobbing his head up and down.
"Ach! See, I'm the one needing sympathy," Angus proclaimed before climbing the stairs to his childhood room. He shouted back over his shoulder, "And I'll expect the flattering ones framed, Mum, just like ye did with yer golden boy's headlines."
Too angry to speak, Margaret busied herself tidying up the kitchen at a frantic pace. Duncan's brother returned in a moment, carrying his overnight bag.
"I'm driving back to Taye. I intend to win that treasure hunt and enjoy Hogmanay away from this mess. Anyone care to come along?" Margaret's second born asked.
Mystery: The Christmas Contest: A Duncan Dewar Romantic Comedy of Mystery & Suspense (Duncan Dewar Mysteries Book 5) Page 8