She saw one of them trying to find cover behind a low wall that stretched along the edge of the church property. She took careful aim and ended his personal reign of terror with a round that made him unrecognizable to anyone other than his maker. Fergus had loaded his weapon with hollow points. Ginny approved the choice.
At least one of them was still firing at her, spraying the area with bullets. They zipped past her ears, hitting the dirt, and the gate, and the cast iron pipe above her. She tried to aim at the bad guy’s head, squeezed off a round, and missed.
Grace had been screaming. Ginny heard the sound stop, abruptly. There was a final round of shots, then silence.
Jim must have made a good job of the bolt cutters, for she heard metal cracking, then the sound of a chain being pulled through the grille. Then the gate creaked open and she heard footsteps coming toward her.
She lay in the dirt, her eyes, and the borrowed weapon, still trained in the direction of the bad guys.
Jim dropped to the earth beside her.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I think Grace is.”
Jim nodded, then hurried over to kneel beside Grace and assess the situation.
Fergus was examining the corpses, removing their weapons, making sure they would pose no further threat. Once that was done, he approached Ginny, carefully, from the side, his hand closing around the pistol grip. She left go. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He unloaded the weapon and tucked it away, then held out a hand.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“It was Jim.”
Ginny climbed to her feet, then found her knees buckling. Residual from the chloroform, perhaps, combined with adrenaline. With Fergus’ help, she stumbled over and collapsed beside Grace.
She could see the point of entry and the spreading blood. Jim had pulled off his gloves and made a compression pad of them. She put her hands down on the pad and pushed while he called 9-1-1.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I think,” Fergus answered her, “a ricochet off that pipe.”
Ginny nodded, then turned back to the woman under her hands. “Grace can you hear me? Open your eyes.”
Grace’s eyes slowly focused. “Ginny?”
“I’m here.”
Grace reached up and took a grip on Ginny’s shirt, pulling her closer. “There’s something I need to tell you, before I die.”
“You’re not going to die,” Ginny said, then caught Jim’s expression and knew it was a lie.
“Just listen.” Grace swallowed, then closed her eyes. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been one day since my last confession.”
“Shouldn’t there be a priest?” Fergus asked.
“It’s all right,” Ginny told him. “God will listen.” She addressed the dying woman. “Grace,” she said, “you don’t have to do this. He knows what’s in your heart.”
“But you don’t. I murdered Phyllis Kyle.”
Ginny let out a small breath. “Why?”
Grace swallowed. “I was eaten up with the sin of pride. I thought I knew better than the experts, that I could do what was needed and not hurt anyone. I broke the law and when Phyllis caught me, I thought her life wasn’t as important as the good work I was doing.” Grace paused for a moment to catch her breath.
“Save your strength.”
“No. Hear me out.” She licked her lips, now stained with blood. “I was bragging to her, about all the good I was doing. She pointed out that I was practicing medicine without a license. I denied it, but she was right. She told me again—she’d said it before—that it was safer to use the free clinics. She was right about that, too. If I’d listened, maybe that boy would still be alive.”
She coughed and blood ran down her cheek and onto the earthen floor. “She didn’t threaten me. All she did was pull up the web site to look at the guidelines, but I panicked. I figured I had until the end of the shift. I was sure she’d turn me in the minute the office opened. Without my license and without my job, I wouldn’t be able to do any more good for the refugees. They were relying on me. They needed me. They trusted me.”
Grace’s breath was now a harsh rasp in her throat. Her hand groped, seeking another, and Ginny took it, clasping it tightly.
Grace’s voice was growing fainter. “God forgive me!” She gasped, then closed her eyes. “I see now how wrong I was.” In a voice hardly more than a pale whisper, she began, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” She struggled to pull in another breath. “Holy Mary—Mother of God—” Her voice faded out.
“—pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.” Ginny finished the line.
There was a spasm, or maybe another cough. More blood ran from her mouth, then all was still. Ginny found tears running down her face. Holy Mary, Mother of God—Mary had watched her son be crucified, a horrendous death, slow and painful. At least this one had been quick.
“Who’s in there?”
Ginny ignored the strange voice. Probably a policeman, come to investigate the noise.
The two men rose to deal with the newcomer. Ginny stayed where she was, letting the tears fall. After a while, she felt arms lifting her to her feet. An ambulance had come, silently, since there was no need for hurry. Someone sat her down on the ruins of the brick wall and washed her hands. They were covered in blood, Grace’s blood.
The motto of the Forbes clan was, “Grace me guide.” Ginny could not follow Grace into her sin, but she could try to follow her repentance. Pride was an easy sin to fall into and a hard one to recognize in one’s self.
She was shivering with the cold and shock. But Jim was there, wrapping her in a heavy jacket, sitting down next to her, pulling her into his arms. Warm, strong, gentle arms.
She felt him enfold her and in that moment she understood. The problem between them wasn’t trust. It was pride that had been keeping them apart, his pride and hers. They would have to work that out, or part company.
“Mackenzie! Forbes!”
She looked up and saw DeSoto approaching.
“We got him! We got the whole damned lot of them!” He strode up to them, then went down on his haunches. “If it were in my power, you would both get medals.”
“Purple hearts?” Jim suggested.
“Medals of valor. You’re both heroes.” He stood. “I’ll catch up with you later. Lots of work to do.”
“Heroes.” Ginny echoed the word. “I feel more like a fool.”
“As in, ‘Fools rush in?’”
“Something like that.” She looked up at Jim. “Fergus said you figured it out.”
He nodded. “It was a case of hiding in plain sight. DeSoto told me the boss’ code name was, ‘The Bishop,’ but I dismissed a church connection as being too obvious.”
“And I was unwilling to consider a man of the cloth as the evil genius behind all these deaths. He deceived us all.” She sighed heavily. “I owe you an apology, Jim. I shouldn’t have left the house today, not without backup.”
“True, but you were following your gut. Trusting your instincts. Just like you used to.”
She thought about that for a moment. He was right. The last three weeks had been terrifying, but each new challenge had helped rebuild her faith in herself.
“What’s more,” Jim continued, “if you hadn’t gone after Grace and I hadn’t gone after you, Father Ignacio would still be at large. Instead, the cartel is broken, and you caught Phyllis’ killer. You should be proud of yourself.”
Ginny watched the ambulance drive away. “I’m not proud of the mistakes I’ve made.”
He pulled her closer. “Having the courage to try, even though you may screw up, is something to be proud of.”
She looked into his face. Not conceit, not arrogance. That wasn’t the kind of pride he meant. A reasonable self-respect, based on honorable actions. Too little of that sort of pride could be as bad as too much.
The police kept them answering qu
estions for another hour, then agreed to let them finish up at the police station the next day. Fergus they eyed with suspicion, but the permits for his private arsenal must have been in order. They did not detain him. He turned his back on the officers and came over to where Jim and Ginny sat.
“Ready to go home?” he asked.
Jim nodded, then pulled Ginny to her feet, slipped an arm around her waist, and started toward the gate.
She put a hand out to stop him. “Give me a minute, Jim.”
He paused, then nodded and moved off in the direction of the car.
Ginny turned to Fergus. She took both of his hands in hers, then pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you, Cousin,” she said, “for my life and my lesson.”
“You’re welcome. So, have you made up your mind?”
“Ask me again tomorrow.”
The two of them turned and walked side by side, toward the tunnel opening and the last of the winter afternoon. Jim was waiting for them just beyond the entrance.
Ginny paused for a moment and looked around. The Christmas decorations were still in place downtown, awaiting the New Year celebrations, the rooftops heavy with faux icicles, every window display more elaborate than the last. Even the traffic lights cycled cheerfully between red and green. Peace on Earth.
She took both men’s arms, pulling them closer. Peace sounded awfully good right now. “Maybe we’ll get a vacation before the next body shows up,” she said.
“No more murders for me!” Jim said. “I’m giving them up for Lent.” He looked down at her. “And the next time Detective Tran calls you in as a consultant?”
“Oh, come on, Jim! How likely is that?”
“How likely was it you’d be involved in two murder investigations in less than three months?”
Ginny shifted uneasily. “It’s still not my job.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Fergus looked along his shoulder at her. “Sometimes we find a job. Sometimes a job finds us.”
* * *
Chapter 55
New Year's Eve, just before midnight
Forbes residence
“When is Alex supposed to get here?” Ginny threw her coat into the closet and hurried to help set up for the First Footing.
“He called from Denver to say the plane was delayed by bad weather.” Her brother and his family had been spending Christmas with his wife’s parents.
“I hope they don’t have to spend the night in the airport.”
Her mother poked her nose around the corner. “He’ll let us know when there’s news. How was the party?”
“Excellent! Some of the die-hards are still at it.”
“It’s too bad Fergus couldn’t stay. He’s dark enough to count as good luck.” She was referring to the First Footing.
In the Scottish tradition, the first male visitor to cross the threshold on New Year’s Day foretold the fortunes of the family for the coming year. A fair haired visitor meant ill luck, while a dark one, especially one bearing the traditional gifts of a lump of coal for the fire, shortbread, and whisky, assured good luck for the next twelve months. The fair-haired man was said to be a reminder of the Viking attacks on Scotland in the ninth century. The tradition persisted in spite of the number of blondes and redheads common among the Scots both before and after the Viking incursions.
Ginny smiled to herself. Fergus had certainly been good luck for her. He’d fulfilled his promise to Angus. No small feat, considering what trouble she had caused. And he had offered her his friendship. When they parted, he’d taken her face in both hands and kissed her, then given her a bear hug. “You call me,” he had said, “day or night, if you need me.” And she had promised she would.
“I’m sure they’ll put him to good use in Georgetown,” she said.
“Who’s First Footing us?” Sinia asked.
“We’ve drawn Reggie MacDonald and he’s going to be busy ’til dawn. I’ve seen his list.”
Mrs. Forbes laughed. “He can handle it. What’s our position?”
“Second.”
Mrs. Forbes nodded. “Good. We’ll be done before the bells have finished.”
Ginny glanced at the clock. She’d broken away from the Hogmanay ceilidh with only fifteen minutes to spare. The clock now stood at five minutes to midnight. She grabbed the single malt and started to pour.
“His first stop is the Camerons, after which Caroline and Alan are coming here. Jim said something similar, though I think Himself drew Geordie this year and they may talk all night. I’m ready.” She picked up the tray of wee drams and set it near the door. “There go the bells!”
They could hear the Auld Kirk bells begin to ring, first tolling out the old year, followed by a jubilant peal to celebrate the birth of the new one. Ginny watched the clock. When it reached midnight exactly, she lifted a glass to her mother, who returned the salute.
“Happy New Year!”
Ginny sipped the scotch, then turned as the doorbell rang.
“That was fast!” She pulled open the door then gasped. “No!”
Alex stood on the threshold, smiling. “We made it!” He started to enter, but Ginny threw her hand out to stop him.
“Wait! Don’t cross yet!”
Alex glanced down at his watch, puzzled. “Why not? It’s still last year.”
“No, it’s not! Have you forgotten the time change?”
He gritted his teeth. “Drat! Yes! We were so glad to be airborne I forgot to reset my watch!”
Ginny stepped out into the cold night air and gave her brother a hug. “Reggie will be here in a minute, after which we can all go inside.”
“Aunt Ginny!” Three boys all embraced her at once, crowding around, then breaking away.
“Nana!” The youngest, George, made a beeline for his grandmother, who stood just inside the house looking out at the reunion taking place on her front walk.
“George, wait!” His father tried to catch him, but missed, and the rosy-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde was over the threshold and in his grandmother’s embrace before they could do anything about it.
Ginny burst out laughing. “Does it count if the fair haired male is not a man?”
Sinia Forbes gave her a rueful smile. “Aye, it does.” She kissed her grandson on the top of his head. “Well, you’d better all come in, then.” She gestured them inside with hugs and kisses all around, followed by scotch for the grownups and ginger ale for the boys.
Reggie followed hot on their heels and was invited in for his own wee dram. Caroline and Alan were right behind him and Jim and Himself showed up fifteen minutes later.
The bells had been replaced by the boom of fireworks and with the front door open, they could see the rockets going up over the loch. Someone started singing Auld Lang Syne and they all chimed in.
Jim put his arm around Ginny’s waist, then pulled her into a kiss. “Happy New Year!”
She looked up at him. “May it be quieter than the last!”
“You’re not worried, are you? About George crossing the threshold first?”
She gave him a crooked little smile, then shrugged, her hand stealing up to the talisman around her neck.
“It’s just an old wives’ tale,” she said. “No one believes in those things any more. Besides, with two murders in three months, we’ve used up our allowance of bad luck for a while. We should be fine.”
“Just superstition, huh?” He took her hand and started to pull her toward the front hall. “Like the Sight? And your talisman?”
The door was still open and the brisk winter air stirred the mistletoe hanging above the threshold. Jim reached up and plucked a berry, then gathered Ginny into his arms. “They say that couples who kiss under the mistletoe will marry within the year and have a long happy life. Care to chance it?”
Ginny laughed, slid her arms around his neck, and gave him a mocking smile. “Why not? After all, it’s just an Auld Wives’ tale!”
THE END
GLOSSARY
A
boot – about
Ain – own
Ane – one (rhymes with “gain”)
Aught – anything
Aye – yes
Bairn – baby
Bodhran – (pronounced “bow-rawn”) a Celtic frame drum made of hard, circular wood with goat skin tacked to one side. It is supported on the body with hands and thigh and played with a wooden rod called a tipper.
Ceilidh – party
Curandera – a traditional native healer
Deid – dead
DFW – Dallas / Ft. Worth (Texas)
Didnae – did not, didn’t
Dinna – do not, don’t
DNA – Deoxyribonucleic acid
Dram – one sixteenth of an ounce (3.7 milliliters)
ER – emergency room
ETT – endotracheal tube, an artificial airway
Forbye – besides, in addition (to)
Gallóglaigh– Scottish mercenaries. The gallóglaigh arose in the mid-thirteenth century, originating on the western coast of Scotland, principally Argyll and the Western Isles (and believed to be the descendants of the Vikings). They were mighty warriors, famed for their strength and lack of compassion. There are references to them fighting in Ireland, Holland, Switzerland, France, and Sweden.
Gi’e – give
Gin – if (hard “g” sound)
GPS – global positioning system
Ha’e – have
Haes – has
Heid – head
Haud yer wheesht! – Be quiet!
HIPAA – Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act – A law which defines protected health information and provides for penalties for improper disclosure.
IV – intravenous
Keek – peek, look
Ken – understand
Kilts – a non-bifurcated garment extending from waist to mid-knee, with pleats at the back and a flap across the front, secured with belt, buckles, and pins. The traditional dress of Gaelic men in the Scottish Highlands, it is usually made of wool in a tartan pattern.
Mets– metastatic sites (cancer that has spread)
The Swick and the Dead Page 36