Dallas

by Cassidy Cayman

  “I didna break in. Soncerae sent me here. For what I dinna know yet. Perhaps I ended up in the wrong place? I tell ye, I dinna know.” He sounded desperate now and she knew that could make him do something stupid or dangerous.

  She decided to change tack. “She sent you here to start the fire. But why? Who is she to us?”

  His pained look turned to disbelief. “Start the fire? Nay, never. What would give ye that idea?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, deciding not to let him know they’d found evidence of arson. His act was convincing. So convincing she would have believed him if anything he said made any sense. It was insulting, really. Her sister was given to flights of fancy, that was true, but she also had a good head on her shoulders. She should have taken Eloise more seriously.

  Her kernel of panic grew considerably when he stood up and lurched toward her. Oh, she was such a fool to call him out. Now he had no recourse but to do something rash. She dared not think what that might be, but if he was the man sent to burn this place down, he wouldn’t want any witnesses. If it had been a mere act of arson and he hadn’t meant them to still be in the building, would he go so far as to murder now? She didn’t want to find out.

  Flinging herself behind Ambrose’s cage to put something sturdy between them, she tried to think of a way to calm him down. Pretend she believed him and go on as if nothing was wrong? That ship had sailed when she flat out accused him of lying and committing a crime. He’d admitted to the lie. How much more desperate would he have to get to admit to the fire? No, she couldn’t let it come to that. He’d be out of options then. She felt like she was out of options now.

  She spied a glint of dark metal under a bag of oranges and a box of specially formulated primate biscuits on the floor. It only took her a split second to decide. She kicked aside the oranges, cringing as the outrageously expensive treats went flying everywhere, and grabbed up the tranquilizer gun. She and Eloise had both learned how to use it. It seemed a silly purchase once they learned how docile Ambrose was but now she was glad she’d been overly concerned about safety. It was perfectly safe to use if Ambrose got out of control, but she had no idea if it would prove lethal to a human. She snapped the bolt back and loaded the dart, waving it wildly before centering it on Toren.

  He stopped in his tracks, hands up. “Miranda, please. I mean ye no harm.”

  “Then back up. I honestly don’t know what this will do to you.”

  He backed up. “It willna hurt me. I canna be harmed while I am here. Ye saw that when I was hit by the live wire.”

  Insanity. It hurt almost worse than knowing he was a ruthless criminal. “Just stay back or we’ll have to test your theory.”

  He stayed where he was and slowly lowered his hands. She waved the gun for him to keep them where she could see them. She hated this, every second of it.

  “I swear to ye I am not a criminal.” He was pleading with her. She took her finger off the trigger and slid it back up to the safety.

  “Then tell me something that makes sense.”

  His shoulders slumped. “That I am afraid I canna do.”

  The sound of the door opening made both their attention shift to Eloise, carrying several pieces of copy paper taped together. “I made a sign to hang out the—” She stopped in her tracks and looked from Toren to Miranda to the dart gun, her eyes popping. “What’s going on?”

  Toren moved toward Eloise, hands still raised. Miranda went blank with fear. If she got her sister killed because of her lapse in judgment, she would never forgive herself. “Stay away from her or I swear I’ll shoot you,” she screamed.

  Toren stopped, shaking his head. “I didna mean her any harm. Miranda, please. Ye must listen to me.”

  Eloise scooted to stand behind her. “Don’t listen to him, Miranda.” The look of hurt he gave Eloise made her falter once more. Eloise grabbed her slowly lowering arm and raised it back up to shooting level. “Get in the cage.”

  He looked horrified at the demand and hurried to the window, glancing out of it. Was he expecting someone? Or was he thinking about jumping?

  “Don’t do anything crazy,” she said, wishing she could take the word back. It was a cruel word to use toward someone who was truly mentally ill, which it seemed he might be. She almost hoped he was. Then he could get help. Anything was better than believing he was a vicious killer.

  Probably knowing Miranda wouldn’t have the fortitude to actually shoot him, Eloise wrested the gun from her hand and not only aimed it at him but started moving toward him with purpose. “The tranquilizer in this is formulated to knock out an enraged, three hundred pound primate, fast,” she said in a voice Miranda had never heard before. “Get in the cage or we’ll see how fast it knocks you out.”

  “I canna get in the cage,” he said, edging closer to the windowsill. “I beg ye both to listen to me and try and believe what I say.”

  “No dice,” she said, waving the gun toward the cage and back to him. It seemed all those true crime shows she was so enamored with might be paying off. Miranda never would have believed it. “If you don’t start moving on the count of three, I pop you one in the butt cheek and then we’ll just drag you in there. Either way you end up in the cage, but one of them saves you a sore butt cheek.”

  Oh God, she’d really gone too far with that. “Please just get in the cage, Toren,” Miranda begged. “You don’t need to get hurt. And I swear I’ll listen to you once you’re in there.” She hated patronizing him when they’d seemed to have such a connection. She hated how much of an idiot she’d been to believe they’d had a connection.

  “One…” Eloise started, high on power.

  “Eloise, do not shoot him. The tranquilizer could be fatal.”

  “Two…” She didn’t spare a backward glance, only slid the safety off and placed her finger over the trigger.

  Toren gave Miranda one last pleading look, turned, and jumped out the window.

  She screamed and knocked the gun out of Eloise’s hands. Too late, much too late. Eloise gaped at the empty window in a state of shock then burst into tears.

  “I didn’t— I don’t know what—”

  “Oh my God,” Miranda said, gripping the bars of Ambrose’s cage until her hands felt like they might break. “He’s dead.”

  “Maybe not,” Eloise whimpered, choking on tears.

  “It’s at least thirty feet. If by some miracle he’s alive, he’s going to have more than a sore butt cheek. What were you thinking?”

  Eloise sank to the floor. “I came in and saw you had him at gunpoint. I didn’t think. I don’t know what came over me. Why didn’t he just get in the cage?”

  “I’m going to look,” Miranda said, willing her feet to move.

  Eloise dragged herself up and pried Miranda’s hands off the bars. With their arms around each other they hobbled to the window and looked down to see the Highlander’s motionless body sprawled on the ground.

  Chapter 12

  Arrrrgh.

  That had definitely hurt more than being trampled by a horse. The reverberation of hitting the concrete had knocked him out and now he lay still, feeling his multiple broken bones knitting back together. It felt like ants running around under his skin and he twitched as the small bones in his spine healed. When the tiny vibrations stopped, he rolled over, testing his strength. He seemed perfectly fine now, when he should have been nothing more than a useless bag of kindling.

  It had been a risky move, even as much as he trusted Soni to be telling the truth about him being safe during his time here. He simply couldn’t let himself be stuck in that cage to run out that precious time. His last chance to save Miranda was to jump from the window.

  Screams sounded above him and he got to his feet, bouncing a few times to make sure he was all put back together again. He waved up and Miranda and Eloise, who hung out the window, far above him. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen from such a height.

  “I’m sorry,” yelled Eloise. He squinted to see Miranda s
hove her back.

  “Are you okay?” Miranda called. He heard her try to stifle a sob. Was she grateful he was alive and well? “I can’t believe you’re not hurt. How are you not hurt?”

  He cupped his hands around his mouth. “I tried to tell ye I canna be harmed. Do ye believe me now?” This was met by silence as she stared down at him. He held out his arms and turned in a showy circle, finishing with a jaunty bow. “I didna lie to ye, though I can see it’s verra hard to believe.”

  “You’re lucky,” she finally called down. “Really lucky.”

  He wanted to swear at her pig-headedness but didn’t think it was worth it. The woman was determined not to trust him. It was a shame since he’d grown so fond of her. He didn’t know what he’d hoped for with her. It couldn’t have been much with only another day to go on his clock. Perhaps another bit of conversation like they’d enjoyed up in the ceiling space. He wouldn’t have minded holding her a bit closer than he had while he’d been teasing her on top of the desk. It seemed he was to have none of that, though. All he could do now was complete his quest so he could knock Bonnie Prince Charlie around a bit before he moved on.

  He looked around. He was in the middle of a small lane, surrounded by other rundown buildings with one street lamp on the corner that only served to cast shadows over everything. He jogged to the end of the lane in both directions and was met with only dark, silent doorways. Not another living soul in sight. Jogging back, he took a few steps into the alley on one side of the building he’d been stuck in to find several trash receptacles and old crates, nothing of use. He kept walking around until he came to the other side where there were a few parking spaces. One lone car sat there, under an even dimmer light than the one at the corner. It had to be Eloise’s car. It looked like he was going to be able to rescue those stubborn lasses sooner than he thought. So much for his time as a living man again.

  He hurried back to the open windows and called up. Instantly Miranda stuck her head out.

  “What happened to you? Did you find help?”

  “There’s no one about, but throw me down the keys to Eloise’s car.”

  Eloise poked her head out. “Oh hell, no,” she called.

  Miranda shoved her back again and yelled down, “What do you want them for?”

  “Good God, woman, have ye no faith in me at all? I jumped out of a three story window to help ye.”

  He couldn’t see it, but he sensed her skeptical look. He thought he heard Eloise’s voice drift down on the cool night breeze saying something that sounded like, “He jumped out of the window to keep from getting shot.”

  He closed his eyes and prayed for patience. “Did she not say she left her wee phone in the car?” he bellowed. He almost gave them up as a bad job, a complete and utter loss, when Miranda stuck her head out the window again. A moment later a ring of keys clattered to the ground next to him.

  “I trust you,” she yelled.

  They were the sweetest words he ever heard. He didn’t know how much it meant to him until she said it.

  “Do ye mean it?” he called back up to her.

  “I-I think so.” After a beat, “It’s the best I can do right now.”

  “I’ll take it, then.”

  A wave of happiness carried him as he scooped up the keys and ran to the car. It only took him a few presses of the buttons on the key fob and he was in. He sat back in the driver’s seat and let himself revel in it for a moment before searching for the phone. He’d seen plenty of them before. None of the visitors or even the security guards who worked at the moor could go long without one in their hands. He’d never worked one himself though, and this one was proving difficult. He pressed everything there was to press but the fingerprint-smudged screen remained dark.

  He did not relish reporting this snafu to Miranda and sat in the car, still fumbling with the wicked wee device. Finally he knew he had to ask her what to do and trudged back to the window. He cleared his throat to yell when a cord landed by his feet.

  “Eloise thinks the battery might be dead because she left her stupid cat cafe game running.”

  “Aye, I think she’s right.” He was relieved he didn’t have to admit to not being able to turn the thing on, but now he had to admit he didn’t know how to work the cord. It was clear one end plugged into the phone, but what was he to do with the other end? “Ye said ye trust me, aye?”

  “I said I think I do. Why, what’s the matter?”

  “Miranda,” he shouted, getting mightily sick of this form of communication. “I am from a time that didna use such things. I dinna know how to use the cord ye’ve tossed me.”

  Enough time went by that he thought she might have given him up as the bad job. At one point he thought he heard the sisters arguing. In the end, Miranda’s lovely head popped out of the window once more.

  “Put the key into the ignition in the car. That’s to the right of the steering wheel.” A pause. “The steering wheel is the round thing—”

  “Ah, now, that’s a bit much,” he interrupted, his pride smarting.

  “I don’t know what you know,” she called. He couldn’t help smiling at her irritation. He wanted to wring her neck and kiss her in equal measures. Nay, that was a lie. He wanted to kiss her much more. “After the key’s in the ignition turn it and the engine will come on. Just leave it alone after that. Stick the oval thing on the end of the phone charger into the cigarette lighter. Oh geez. Okay, that’s this little round hole in the middle, below the stereo display.”

  “I’m sure I’ll find it,” he yelled with more confidence than he felt.

  He set off for the car once more, determined to regain his manhood by saving the day once and for all. He slowed down, realizing how close everything was to being over. How much closer he was to having to say goodbye to Miranda and move on. The sheer joy at hearing Miranda say she trusted him a few minutes before turned to utter misery. He didn’t want to go back to the drudgery of the moor. And he was still scared of what lay ahead for him. He wanted more time with Miranda, not a chance to break Charles Stuart’s nose. He should have got in the cage. At least then he could have looked at her while waiting for someone else to come and rescue her.

  He found he was standing in front of the car, staring at it with distaste. There was nothing for it. Time to be a hero.

  A bright beam of light flashed to his left and then extinguished. He heard the sounds of tires rolling to a stop and the hum of a motor cut out. A second later a car door closed, not quite a slam, and then footsteps. Someone else was here now, and had parked behind the building. Had he missed his chance by dawdling too long and wishing things were different? He heard a man speaking angrily but no one answered. Toren ducked into the shadows and slid along the wall, peeking around the corner to see the outline of a man pacing back and forth next to a sleek, dark vehicle. He held his hand up to his ear as he argued with himself. Nay, he was speaking on a phone.

  “I’m telling you I’m here now and the building’s still standing. What? So what if I didn’t give you the heads up I was doing it tonight? It was time, I was tired of waiting.” There was only the sound of restless pacing for a moment then, “I have no idea what happened. Everything was set, just the way we planned. I took her phone, disabled the door, and let the fire department know it was a false alarm as soon as I got the notification. This building should be a pile of ashes and it doesn’t look like anything happened at all.” He listened a second. “Sure, smoke inhalation might have got her, but I won’t know that for sure until I check, will I? If this deal is going through, she needs to be out of the picture.”

  Toren saw the man start to walk toward where he was lurking and he slipped hurriedly along the building and around the corner. He dashed across the front, keeping close to the wall so Miranda wouldn’t see him and call down again. He prayed she kept out of sight. He had no idea who the man on the phone was, but he’d clearly been behind the fire. And him being here now could only spell trouble. He got to the other side
and around the opposite corner just as the man rounded his side. He paused at the front door, a key poised halfway to the lock. He was engrossed with his phone conversation so Toren slid noiselessly closer, keeping his back pressed against the wall, his body hidden in the shadows.

  “Just calm down,” the man snapped into the phone as he inserted the key and turned it. “I’m going to take care of things here and then head up north.” He flung open the door and Toren’s heart clambered up his throat. He’d have to act fast. The man stood in the doorway with his foot propping it open, listening to whoever was on the other end of the call. “Stop your worrying. I already copied all the files. This’ll be a quick in and out. And don’t worry, there won’t be any evidence.” The man tucked the phone in his pocket and went through the door.

  Toren barely wasted a second before he sidled up to the entryway on quick, quiet feet. He’d been one of the best hunters in his village, could sneak up on any animal or bird. The door had some kind of mechanism at the top that kept if from slamming and Toren caught it just as it was about to click shut again. He paused with his finger holding the door open and peered through the glass. Nothing but darkness awaited him. He was lucky with this door, but he knew the door leading to Miranda’s floor had that pesky coded lock. No, he couldn’t be subtle about this. He’d have to catch up to the man and bash him over the head before he could do anymore damage.

  He found an unlocked door leading to a stairway. Forgetting about stealth, he raced up the stairs. He heard a door slam one level above him and heaved himself forward with all his strength. He was going to be seconds too late. The door at the landing was unlocked and he just saw the dark blue coat of the man slipping through the door marked with Miranda’s and Dr. Harrold’s names. He was in and the door was closing. Toren thanked anyone who cared to take credit that the door had one of the same anti-slamming mechanisms and he managed to get his hand in before it shut all the way. But the heathen was nowhere to be seen.