by Amy Vansant
Maybe Broch misunderstood the conversation. But, if not, who else could have told Asher about the stabbing?
Ah. Owen’s sister. Owen had sent her to check on Amber and she found the body.
Catriona looked again at the sheet she’d printed. William Asher. The last name had to be a coincidence. Didn’t it? Clearly, Fiona kidnapped Toby. Love made people do crazy things.
She sighed.
Why can’t I let this go?
William Asher’s personal phone number was on the employee list as well.
She tapped it with her pen.
“Ah, screw it.”
She dropped the pen and dialed the number. A man answered.
“Asher?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
She giggled, trying to sound sexy, but felt sure it rang more simpleton. Clearing her throat, she dialed her kitten-voice back a notch.
“Oh, wait, you’re a man,” she said.
“What?”
“Is this Asher? The girl who works for Owen?”
The man grunted. “No. This is her brother, Bill.”
“Oh. I’m so silly. Sorry about that.”
“No problem.”
She hung up.
Sonovabitch.
Asher’s brother working for the company that owned the land where Toby was kept couldn’t be a coincidence. Still—Fiona’s fingerprints everywhere... Maybe Fiona met Asher’s brother and they connected for the caper?
According to Sean, Fiona’s fingerprints were everywhere.
Catriona sighed.
That didn’t seem right. Fiona seemed pretty savvy. Maybe the fact that her presence was everywhere was actually evidence that she had nothing to do with it.
Ugh. Wouldn’t that suck.
Catriona dialed Sean.
“Tell me everything you know about Owen’s assistant, Asher,” she said when he answered.
“Asher? She’s just a kid, really. Does a good job, I guess. Or, maybe I should say, did a good job.”
“Did? Why’s that?”
“Owen mentioned to me that he was in the market for a new assistant.”
“When did he decide this?”
“The day Toby was found. He said Asher was too over the top and he couldn’t take it anymore. Clingy, I think was the word he used.”
“Might she have a crush on Owen?”
“That was my impression. Why?”
“Just a hunch—”
Catriona stopped short, her eye falling on the blue piece of glass she’d found at Toby’s kidnapping site. Something tickled her memory.
“Sean, I have to go.”
She hung up, even as she heard Sean pressing for more information.
Picking up the bit of blue, she rolled it in her palm. It was teardrop-shaped, like a jewel—
She closed her eyes and thought back to the day they visited Owen to investigate Toby’s kidnapping. She pictured the second police car arriving. The girl with the brown bob marching towards the stairs. Her head turned, her attention captured by Kilty’s skirt.
The earring swinging...
She could see the scene clearly, as if Asher were standing in front of her now, at the base of Owen’s stairs. She saw the silver earring with three leaves growing from the stem, frozen in time as it arced to slap Asher’s cheek—each leaf filled with a blue gem.
In her recollection, all three leaves were filled. The gems were there, but she never saw the opposite earring. She rewound the moment in her head to confirm. No. She never saw the other earring.
Catriona opened her eyes and studied the bit of glass in her palm.
It was definitely a match.
What if Asher kidnapped Toby? What if she was framing Fiona?
But why?
Owen. She wants Owen.
That meant it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she killed Amber, too.
Catriona recalled what Sean had told her about Owen’s intentions.
If Owen tried to fire Asher—
Uh oh.
She grabbed her phone and called Owen Crane.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other side of the line sounded almost giggly, and for a moment, Catriona doubted she’d dialed the correct number.
“Owen? It’s Catriona.”
“Hi, Cat, how are you?”
This tone was more what she had expected. Now Owen sounded like a broken man. Who could blame him? His boy taken, a relationship ended, an estranged wife murdered—Owen had endured more than one man could be expected to handle.
“I’m good, Owen. More importantly, how are you?”
He sniffed. “Oh, you know. As well as can be expected. Terrible.”
“I’m so sorry. Look, I apologize in advance, but I need to ask you something about your assistant.”
“Asher? Funny you should mention her. She just walked in.”
Catriona paused. Lowering her voice she said, “Listen to me. Don’t say anything Asher would recognize for a second, okay? Just answer yes and no. Got it?”
“Why?”
“Yes or no.”
“Fine. Yes.”
“Did she hear you tell me that she’d just walked in?”
“Yes.”
Shoot.
“Are you planning on firing her?”
“Firing her?”
“Owen. For the love of—yes or no?”
“Yes. I guess.”
“Did she hear you say the word firing that I told you not to say?”
“No. I don’t think so. She went into the kitchen.”
She lowered the phone.
Dumbest man on the planet.
She lifted the phone. “You suck at this, you know that?”
“Cat, I checked to see if she was listening first. I’m not stupid. She’d left the room.”
“Right. So there’s no chance she heard you talking about her and then slipped around the corner explicitly for the purpose of eavesdropping on your conversation?”
There was a pause and then, “Oh.”
“Listen to me. I’m on my way. Whatever you do, do not fire her. Be nice to her. Be sweet. Don’t tell her I’m coming.”
“Why?”
Catriona took a moment to consider how much information she should share. “Don’t be alarmed, but I think she might be dangerous. I’ll give you the details later, but there are connections between her and Toby’s kidnapping. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Wait, what?”
“Yes or no, Owen.”
“That’s crazy. What connections—”
“Owen, for the love of all that is holy, if you don’t do what I say and stop asking questions—”
“Fine.”
“Good-bye. Don’t say another word.”
She hung up, grabbed her gun, and moved to the door. She opened it to find Broch standing in the hall, his hand raised as if to knock. She jumped and slapped a hand on her chest.
“Gah. You scared me.”
“Sorry. Ah had a dream,” he said, his face split by a grin.
“Great. We have to go.”
“But—”
She shut the door behind her and pulled him towards the elevator.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In the elevator, Broch tried again.
“Ye dinnae understand. Those dreams ah’ve been havin’—”
“Hold that thought. We have an emergency.”
“We dae?”
“I’m going to tell you this like ripping off a Band-Aid—”
“A band-whit?”
Catriona’s eyes closed as her expression relaxed into the calm countenance she assumed whenever he asked too many questions in a row.
He loved how patient she was with him. He just wanted to grab her and kiss her and—
She kept talking, oblivious to his growing urgency. “A Band-Aid, Kilty. It’s a—” She shook her head, another clear sign he’d missed something. “Nevermind. Bottom line, I think your friend Asher is actuall
y the one who kidnapped Toby.”
“Why? Howfur could that be?”
“Her brother works for the company who owns the container they kept Toby in. Toby said he was taken by a man and a woman...I think it was Asher and her brother.” She paused, grimacing. “Ready for the worst part?”
The elevator doors opened and Catriona immediately dropped her intense stare to stride into the office. With her back to him, he could see she had her gun tucked into the back of her jeans.
“Ye brought yer gun?”
He scurried to catch up to her as she burst from the office and headed for her truck. He walked beside her as she continued.
“The worst part, is I think Asher killed Amber Crane too. She or her brother, but it was her idea.”
“How come wid she dae these things?”
They reached the parking lot and Catriona opened her Jeep door to hop inside. He entered on the passenger side and she pulled out of the parking lot before continuing her theory.
“My best guess is that Asher’s in love with Owen. I think when he broke up with Amber, she thought it was her chance, but Fiona already had his attention.”
Broch pondered this, recalling the little smile that Asher grew whenever she mentioned Owen. “She did seem to favor Owen.”
Catriona nodded. “I think she might have framed Fiona for Toby’s kidnapping. She wanted to rid herself of the competition.”
“Bit why tak’ the man’s son if she loves him?”
“To erase his ties to Amber? Or maybe she never intended to actually harm Toby. She might have been setting the stage, making it seem even more likely that Fiona killed Amber. Making it look like Fiona was on a rampage to erase Owen’s former life.”
Catriona bobbed her head from side to side. “Or...Amber’s murder might have been unplanned. When Amber and Owen reunited, Asher realized Owen would never be hers with Amber in the picture, and decided she had to go.”
Broch stared at the dashboard, absorbing the information. “She seemed sweet. She blethered tae much, bit she was sweet tae me.”
“I don’t know how it will shake out, but right now I can’t let Owen be alone with Asher, and she’s with him right now. He was about to fire her.”
“Fire her?”
“Send her away. Cease her employment. If she even suspects that, who knows what she’ll do.”
“Och.”
Catriona pulled to the curb in front of Owen’s house and leaned into the back seat to retrieve a black, light-weight jacket. She exited and donned it, checking to be sure it covered her weapon as he joined her.
“Let me take the lead and do the talking. She seems to like you—”
“She said ah’m not her type.”
Catriona arched an eyebrow. “Uh...okay. That makes sense. Her type is Owen. But she ate pie with you right? You talked?”
“Aye.”
“So she likes you enough to eat pie with you. If you see an opening where you can lead her outside without being obvious about it, do it. I want her away from Owen, but for now, I don’t want to let her know we suspect anything.”
He nodded and they climbed the stairs to Owen’s front door.
Catriona knocked. No one answered. She knocked a second time and the door opened.
Asher smiled, her gaze bouncing off Catriona and landing on Broch.
“Hi, you,” she said.
He couldn’t help but smile back. She seemed in good spirits and he guessed Owen hadn’t yet fired her.
Something about Asher was different. She wore a skin -tight skirt and a shirt unbuttoned low. Her hair was smooth and shiny, her eyes rimmed with the same black paint Catriona donned the night Sean took them out to dinner.
“Hi. I have a meeting with Owen,” said Catriona.
“A meeting?” Asher scowled.
“Mm-hm. Can we come in?”
“Uh, actually, he ran out for something. I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
“I’ll wait. It’s pretty important. Where’s Toby?” Catriona asked her question as she walked past Asher into the house.
Asher looked up the stairs and stepped back to allow Broch to enter.
“He took him along for the ride,” she said, her words falling slowly, as if she was unsure. She shut the door and stood staring at the floor.
“Asher?” asked Catriona.
The girl looked up as if snapping from a trance. “Huh?”
“Would it be too much trouble to ask for a glass of water?”
She nodded. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
Asher disappeared into the back of the house.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Catriona whispered to Broch the moment Asher left. “She’s all dolled-up. I think she’s lost it. Owen might be dead in a closet already.”
Broch scowled. “Na.”
Catriona’s mouth twisted into a knot. “Keep your wits about you. I think—”
Broch spotted a flash of movement behind Catriona. Asher had entered the opposite side of the room. She had a gun in her shaking hand, pointed at them. Her eyes were wild.
“He left me!” she screamed. “That’s why he took Toby—he was running and he left me here.”
The tendons in her arms flexed.
Broch knew the truth in an instant.
She’s going to fire.
Catriona stood between him and the gun.
Again.
It was his dream, come to life. Instead of Jones, Asher was the threat.
Broch grabbed Catriona by her upper arms, jerking her away, facing his back to the gun and blocking her with his body as it went off.
Catriona wrenched one shoulder from his grasp almost immediately. He flailed, reaching to keep her tucked behind him.
That’s when he felt the pain.
It was as if a hot poker struck him below the shoulder. Another blast sounded, this one much closer. Catriona had drawn her weapon and fired, her hand beneath his elbow, and he felt the heat and reverberation of her pistol against his arm.
There was a yelp and a crash. His legs buckling, he pulled Catriona down with him as he fell, determined to stay between her and Asher’s weapon.
“It’s good,” said Catriona as they hit the ground. “She’s down. I have to go—”
She struggled away from him, running toward where he’d last seen Asher.
“No!” he called, reaching for her.
He rolled on his side to assess the threat. Asher lay crumpled on the ground, holding her stomach. Her gun had clattered to the floor several feet from her body and he watched as Catriona kicked it across the room.
Asher moaned. “Why? We were going to be together. Why would he run without me?”
Broch saw blood staining Asher’s yellow blouse and glanced at his chest to find a dark pool of red darkening his own shirt, below his left armpit.
Gun trained on Asher, Catriona retrieved her phone with her opposite hand. She backed toward Broch while talking to someone. Broch suspected it was the police. Her eyes were locked on Asher, who had curled into a ball, sobbing.
“Don’t move a muscle except to keep pressure on that wound, Asher,” commanded Catriona as she knelt beside Broch.
Catriona turned her attention to Broch, her face a mask of worry.
“You’re hit,” she said.
“It gaed clean through. Are ye hurt?”
Catriona looked confused for a moment and then searched her body for damage. She glanced at the wall behind them.
“I’m fine. The bullet went through you, passed me, and hit there.” She pointed to a bullet hole.
Impulsively, he grabbed Catriona and pulled her against him, his fear for her safety still jangling every nerve in his body.
“Ah couldnae lose ye again,” he whispered.
Her lips brushed his ear.
“You’re making it hard to keep an eye on Asher.”
He released her and saw her arm outstretched, gun pointed in Asher’s direction. He tried to rise, but she pushed him back.
“Stay down,” she said.
Catriona placed her opposite hand on his wound, pressing him to the floor. He grunted in pain and she smiled at him.
“Big baby.”
Outside, police sirens approached.
She turned and stared at the hole in the wall. “That bullet would have gone right into my head.”
He reached up to cup her face in his hand. “Never. Nae wit’ me here.”
Her expression softened for a moment before her brows knit. “Wait. Did you say lose me again?”
He nodded. “Ah’ve been tryin’ to tell ye. Mah dreams. Ah ken noo. They weren’t aboot Fiona.”
“No?”
“Na. It was ye.”
Catriona’s eyes opened wide.
“Me?”
“Aye. Ah was in love with ye. Ah always hae been. Ah ken that noo.”
Catriona’s lip began to quiver. She bit it and looked away. “Adrenaline. I can’t stop shaking,” she mumbled.
“Police!” said a voice at the front door.
Brock closed his eyes, smiling as the sound of boots on the hardwood floors approached.
Chapter Thirty
Catriona winced as the emergency room doctor inspected Broch’s wound, peeling back bandages applied by the EMTs at Owen’s house.
Sean had driven to the hospital to meet them and now stood beside her. “Why does this all seem familiar?” he asked.
Catriona smiled. “Tell me about it. You two need to stop catching bullets.” She didn’t want Broch to know just how worried she was for him.
Broch grimaced as the doctor examined the entry wound in his back. He caught Catriona’s eye and played off his distressed expression as if it were an aborted sneeze.
She chuckled to let him know he wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Looks like you got lucky. Can’t remember the last time I saw such a clean shot. Went straight through,” said the doctor.
Relieved, Catriona released a deep breath and squeezed Sean’s hand.
The doctor turned to them. “We’re going to take him back to surgery and stitch him up. You can wait out front.” With a nod he strode out of the room.
Catriona moved to leave with Sean leading the way. She hadn’t taken a step before Broch grabbed her wrist and guided her back to him. He made his intention clear and, with a quick glance to be sure Sean had left, she stepped closer.
They kissed, the touch of his lips on hers sending electricity through her body. He kissed her jaw and chin as she tilted back her head to allow him access to her throat.