This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by IJ Development
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ISBNs: 978-1-5387-6296-7 (hardcover), 978-1-5387-5217-3 (large print), 978-1-5387-5340-8 (Canadian trade paperback), 978-1-5387-6295-0 (ebook)
E3-20200407-DA-NF-ORI
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Discover More
About the Author
Also by Iris Johansen (in order of publication)
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Chapter
1
MacDuff’s Run
Scotland
The portrait of Fiona MacDuff shone on the wall of the private gallery like a star lighting the darkness.
Yes!
Russell Davron stood for an instant focusing the beam of his flashlight at the painting, admiring the technique of the artist as well as the beautiful face of the woman he had managed to capture with such accuracy. The long, wavy red hair, the hazel eyes shining with such vitality and humor, the hint of recklessness in the curve of her lips. Fiona MacDuff had been dead for centuries, but she looked as if she could step out of that portrait and take life by storm, molding it to whatever she chose. It was no wonder that John MacDuff, Earl of MacDuff’s Run, chose to keep her portrait here at the gallery of his primary residence rather than at one of his other estates. While researching the painting, Davron had wondered why MacDuff hadn’t sold it during the years when he’d been tottering on the verge of bankruptcy. Of course, the painting was unsigned, which made it less valuable, but somehow Davron doubted if that had even made a difference to him. Because even now after MacDuff had managed to save his family fortunes, that portrait still had a place of honor in this castle. In good times and poor, the earl hadn’t been able to let his Fiona go. Davron was beginning to see why…
“Why the hell are you just standing there?” Stefano Luca hissed as he came up behind him. “Take the painting and get out of here. That relief sentry should be reporting in another ten minutes. He’s going to wonder where the other guard has gone. If you’ve made trouble for me, you’ll pay, Davron.”
Davron felt a chill as he moved quickly toward the painting. He had a very good idea what payment Luca would demand if anything went wrong. Luca wasn’t the same man who had recruited him all those years ago. Or perhaps he was and Davron had chosen to ignore it because it was safer and more profitable to close his eyes. “I only took a minute,” he whispered. “I’m sure you disposed of that guard’s body with your usual skill. We’ll be gone long before they find him.” He carefully took down the painting. He probably should have been more cautious. These days it wasn’t safe to argue or displease Luca in any way when he was this on edge. It would be wise to try to soothe him. “And I was only appreciating our lovely Fiona. I’m sorry I argued with you when you told me that she was worth retrieving. I was thinking only of the monetary value.” He didn’t add that this was also what Luca was usually concerned about. “Your eye is obviously better than mine. You must have seen something else in her.”
“Stop talking. Just get it out of here.” Luca was stepping closer to the empty wall where the portrait had been hung. “Stash the painting in the truck. I’ll be there in a minute. I just have one more thing to do here.”
And Davron had an idea what that last thing would be. Luca was carrying the stainless-steel container he had lately started to bring to every job like this. But it was no longer empty as it had been in the truck. He jerked his eyes away from the canister. Well, what did he care? Luca might be a bit mad, but he’d furnished him with a fine living for years and Davron had learned to live with the ugliness and fear that went along with it. All Davron had to do was take care of business, obey orders, disable all the security systems at the galleries, and act as a beast of burden when Luca made his choices. It seldom involved anything in the least violent. Luca liked to handle that himself.
As he had done tonight.
But Davron couldn’t resist looking curiously over his shoulder as he moved quickly across the gallery toward the door.
Blood.
It was no surprise. There was usually blood these days, Davron knew. Luca liked to leave a signature. This time he had a brush in his hand and was dipping it into the container and then painting the wall with a huge bloody cross. It was probably the blood of the guard he’d stabbed outside the gallery. Davron had wondered why Luca had sent him ahead to grab the painting while he cut the man’s throat.
He’d needed time to take the blood.
The cross was finished now, and Luca should be following him soon. But he wasn’t coming. He’d reached into his pocket and was pulling out something and fastening it to the center of the bloody cross.
It was a photograph, Davron saw in surprise. This was a new addition to Luca’s usual routine. Davron couldn’t make out the details of the photo from across the gallery but it was definitely the photograph of a woman.
A woman with long, wavy hair that he thought might be as red as Fiona MacDuff’s in this portrait he was carrying.
But Davron couldn’t really be sure with all that blood flowing over the photograph…
* * *
Kendrick Castle
Wales
“Wake up, Jane.”
It was Michael’s soft whisper, Jane MacGuire realized drowsily as she opened her eyes. It was still dim in the tent, though she could see a slit of daylight at the opening. Her brother, Michael, was no longer curled up in his own sleeping bag across the tent but sitting next to her, fully dressed and with legs crossed. Was something wrong?
Probably not. She could see that his chestnut-brown hair was a little rumpled, but those amber-colored eyes were sparkling with the boundless vitality usually present only in a ten-year-old. Still, better check. “Hi. You okay?”
“Sure.” He lit his flashlight and smiled cheerfully down at her as he saw that she was fully awake. “You were just restless so I thought I should wake you up. Did you have a bad dream?”
“I don’t think so.” She yawned, sat up, and looked at her watch. “I don’t remember if I did.” But it was six thirty and almost time to get up anyway. All the volunteers and students participating in this archaeological dig at the grounds of Kendrick Castle usually met down at the mess tent for breakfast at seven thirty. Michael always looked forward to mixing with them and finding out what they’d discovered the day before. It had become almost a ritual during the three weeks she and her brother had spent together sharing the work of the dig and the other experiences connected with it.
But that wasn’t supposed to happen today.
She frowned as she gazed at Michael’s jeans, blue T-shirt, and white tennis shoes. “Hey, why are you dressed to go to work? Your mom and dad are going to be here this afternoon. And after we have tea, they’re going to take you back to London for the weekend. Did you forget about it?”
He grinned mischievously. “Gee. Yeah, that’s what happened, Jane. I just can’t keep track of everything on my social calendar. It didn’t occur to you that that’s hours away from now and I can hang out with my friends and maybe do some digging?”
Of course he hadn’t forgotten. Michael never forgot anything. And sometimes what was behind that little boy’s sunny smile was not at all what it seemed. “Don’t be a smart aleck.” She reached out and tousled his hair. “You wake me up and then make fun of me?” Her gaze was suddenly searching his face. “And, as I said, I don’t remember having a restless night.” She paused. “Did you have a nightmare, Michael?”
“I never have nightmares. Maybe I was a little restless.” His smile faded. “Because when I woke up, I got to thinking that it would be great if you could come back to your apartment with us instead of staying here at the dig for an extra day. Why couldn’t you do that?”
“Because I have work to do.” But she could do it if she chose. She had been very tempted. This opportunity to see Eve and Joe would be very brief, and then they’d be gone again. They had been in Maldara, in Africa, for the last four weeks because of Eve’s forensic sculpting project. Eve Duncan was one of the foremost forensic sculptors in the world, and this job had been both difficult and heartrending for her. Not to mention taking place in a country recently torn by civil war that was a hazard in itself. That had been the primary reason Joe Quinn, Eve’s husband, had insisted on putting his own career as a police detective on hold to stay with her. They were only returning for this weekend visit because they hadn’t liked the idea of leaving Michael for this long. Then they would have to return to Maldara for another two weeks for Eve to finish her reconstructions before they’d be able to stop by here again to pick up Michael and return home to Atlanta.
And then Jane would lose them all for heaven knows how long again, she thought glumly. Because her paintings were principally sold by a gallery in London, she’d rented an apartment there and didn’t get back to Atlanta nearly as often as she’d like. Which meant she didn’t get to spend nearly enough time with her family. Every minute with them was precious to her.
But Eve and Joe’s time with Michael was also precious after all those weeks away from him, she reminded herself. She ignored Michael’s pleading expression and forced herself to shake her head. “I haven’t finished the sketches of the dig that I promised to give to Lady Kendrick to put in their advertising brochures. She needs them, Michael. Kendrick Castle is like dozens of other properties here in Wales that are struggling to keep from going bankrupt. Lady Kendrick’s made a big success of this architectural dig, but a little publicity will help her. My working just one more day on the sketches should do it.” She got to her knees and started gathering up her clothes to take down to the shower room in the common area of the dig. “I promise I’ll be there in London tomorrow. Besides, don’t you think that your mom and dad deserve to have you to themselves for at least one day? There’s a slight chance they might have missed you. After all, you’re their only son.” She added teasingly, “Though I don’t know why they’d ever miss a brat like you.”
He didn’t return the smile. “But they’ve missed you, too.” He frowned. “You do that all the time, Jane. You’re always telling me how important family is and then you take a step back as if you don’t belong. I don’t like it.”
“Don’t be silly. What an imagination.” She looked over her shoulder. “I just have a few things to—” She broke off as she saw his expression. She hadn’t realized that he had noticed her slight withdrawal every now and then. But she should have known that he would see and be bewildered by it. He was the most loving child she had ever known, and his instincts were remarkable. Okay, she had always tried to be honest with him and she wouldn’t let this be an exception. She turned to face him. “We are family and that is what’s important,” she said quietly. “But sometimes family members come together at different times and periods in their lives and it makes them different, too. I came to Eve and Joe when I was about your age and they took me in off the streets and gave me a home. But I’d already gone through too much to ever be a child again.” She met his eyes. “Yet that didn’t stop me from being able to be their friend and it didn’t change the love I felt for them. It just made it a little different.” She smiled gently. “But then you were born and you gave your mom and dad the son they’d never had and me a brother. We all had you from the very beginning. Win-win situation.”
He shook his head. “Not if you keep stepping back.”
Good heavens, he was stubborn. “I just want them to enjoy every minute they have with you this weekend. Sometimes life seems to fly by, and your mom and dad work so hard. Your experience with them is totally different from mine, and I want you to all explore it for this little while.” She smiled. “Hey, I can afford to step back and give my friends and family a little extra time together.” She reached out and touched his cheek with her index finger. “When you’ve all given me so much. Understand?”
He nodded soberly. “I always understood, Jane.” He made a face. “But all that does sound pretty sappy, and you’re wrong. You should go with us. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“I won’t be alone. Not all the volunteers go home on weekends. There will still be plenty of campers here.”
He kept frowning. “It’s not the same.”
“No, it won’t be. I’ll miss you, but I might actually get some work done. And you’ll have a terrific time with Eve and Joe tonight.” She gave him a quick hug and jumped to her feet. “Tomorrow, I promise, I’ll hog all the attention the minute I walk into that apartment.” She undid the ties on the door and opened the tent to the sunlight. “Now let me get dressed so we can go down to the mess tent and have breakfast. Can’t you see it’s going to be a beautiful day?”
Michael looked outside at the ancient towering castle in the distance, then at the stone bridge over the brook that led to the slowly waking camp—a veritable tent city on the hills surrounding it. He slowly nodded. “Yeah, maybe.” His brow was still wrinkled in thought. “Didn’t you tell me that Seth Caleb was going to come and stay with us here for a few days? Why don’t you ask him to come down today? He could keep you company until it’s time for you to go to London tomorrow and maybe come with you.”
She stiffened. Where on earth had that come from? Michael hadn’t mentioned Seth Caleb since she’d told him a few weeks ago that he’d been forced to cancel his plans to visit. She hadn’t told him that she’d been profoundly relieved to send a message to Caleb and tell him there was no need for him to come after all. She’d promised Eve she’d ask Caleb here to act as bodyguard to protect Michael from a kidnap threat t
hat had not materialized. “You can’t just drag Caleb down here from Scotland because it suits you, Michael. I know you like him, but he has a life.”
“He’d come if you asked him.” Michael was still looking out at the castle. “And I bet Mom and Dad would be glad to see him. Mom likes him a lot. She told me once that he’d saved her life when she was pregnant with me. He probably did all that really neat stuff he can do with controlling the blood flow in—”
“Caleb can be very appealing,” she interrupted to stop the flood of words. She hadn’t even known that Michael was aware of exactly how rare a gift Caleb had. She was sure that Eve had not gone into details to Michael about Caleb’s rather bizarre abilities. Had Caleb told the boy himself? Possibly. You could never tell what Caleb would do. Or maybe Michael had just sensed it in his unique way, which was as unsettling as it was accurate. “But you don’t impose on people because they’re interesting to be around.” She gave him a gentle nudge. “Go on down to the mess tent while I go shower and get dressed. I’ll meet you in fifteen minutes.”
“He wouldn’t think you were imposing.” Michael was moving reluctantly toward the door. “He really likes to be around you. I can tell. And he’s lots of fun, don’t you think?”
She looked away from him. “‘Fun’ is not exactly the word I’d use.”
Blazing heat. Electricity. Sexual eroticism in all its forms. She could almost see Caleb standing naked before her. She drew a deep breath. Don’t think of him. Difficult. When he always seemed to be—
Her phone was ringing. Saved by the bell. She glanced down at the ID.
Michael had stopped at the door and turned hopefully back to her. “Caleb?”
“Did you think wishing would make it so?” She made a face at him. “But at least you’re in the right country. It’s Lord MacDuff calling from MacDuff’s Run. I haven’t talked to him for over six months. I thought he was still in Spain.” She punched the ACCESS button. “Hello, MacDuff. When did you get home?”
“Just a little while ago. I flew in early this morning.” MacDuff’s tone was very casual. “I thought it was time I’d touched base with old friends and I thought of you. How are you, Jane?”
The Persuasion Page 1