Killer dreams, p.18
Killer Dreams, page 18
“How’s Michael?”
“What do you think?” She paused. “And you didn’t call me to ask how my son was doing. Where are you?”
He didn’t answer. “I’ll be back soon. There was a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“It’s over now. I’ll talk to you later. Go back to Michael.” He hung up.
She was angry and frustrated and that disconnect would be the last straw. Tough. He didn’t have time for explanations.
“I told you she’d be fine,” Jock said. “MacDuff wouldn’t have left her if he weren’t sure of that.”
“Okay, okay. You’ll forgive me if I don’t have the faith in MacDuff that you do. I had to be sure.”
“You actually thought there was a chance Devlin would go after her tonight?”
“If he thought he had even a tiny chance of getting to Sophie and Michael, he’d take it. He likes to walk on the edge.” He watched MacDuff and five of his men coming out of the woods. “You didn’t get him,” he called to MacDuff. “I told you it was a waste of time. He probably had a car parked close by and is halfway to Aberdeen by now.”
“I called ahead to the magistrate and gave him the description you gave me,” MacDuff said. “They’ll be on the lookout for him. We have a chance.”
Royd shook his head. “Not much of one. He knows his business.”
“Garwood?” Jock asked.
Royd nodded. “One of the best. Or worst, depending on how you look at it.” He was silent a moment. “Have you gone to the croft yet?”
MacDuff shook his head. “We were on our way when we heard the shot.” He motioned to Campbell and the men behind him. “Go back to the castle. We’ll take care of it.”
“There may not be anything to take care of,” Royd said. “I don’t think Devlin would have anyone with him. He likes to work alone. But I’ll go with you.”
MacDuff shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He turned and started back up the hill with his men following.
Jock didn’t move, his gaze narrowed on Royd’s face. “Nothing to take care of?” he repeated.
“I misspoke,” Royd said. “With Devlin there’s always something to take care of.”
“What?”
God, he was dizzy, Royd thought as he moved after MacDuff. “The cleanup.”
Sophie hung up the phone. Damn Royd. She didn’t need this. Something was happening and she was being left—
“Mom.”
She turned back to the bed. Forget Royd. This was her job tonight.
“Coming.” She put the phone back on the table and crossed the room to him. “It was nothing. Just Royd checking on us.” She slipped into bed and pulled him close. “He asked about you.”
“I’m okay.”
He wasn’t okay. He had taken the news with the shock she had known he would. “That’s what I told him.”
He was silent a moment. “Why?” Michael whispered. The tears were running down his cheeks. “Why Dad, Mom?”
“I told you.” Sophie tried to keep her voice steady. “I’m not sure. But I think it has to do with what I’m doing, Michael. I never dreamed it would impact your father. But if you want to blame me, I won’t argue with you.”
“Blame you?” He buried his face in her shoulder. “You’re only trying to make sure those bad guys get stopped. It was them.” His hands clenched on her shirt. “I…loved him, Mom.”
“I know you did.”
“I feel…ashamed. Sometimes I got mad at him.”
“Did you?” She stroked his hair. “Why?”
“He made me feel…He didn’t want me around. Not really.”
“Of course he did.”
He shook his head. “I was in the way. And I was a bother to him. I think he thought I was…crazy.”
“That’s not true.” But a boy as sensitive as Michael would have picked up on those vibes Dave had sent. “And it wasn’t your fault.”
“I was a bother to him,” he repeated.
“Listen to me, Michael. When a man and woman have a child, it’s their duty to stand by him no matter how difficult it becomes. It’s their job. That’s what a family is all about. You did everything you could to cope with the problem you have and he should have been there for you. He was the one at fault, not you.” She hugged him closer. “So stop thinking about blame. Think about the good times with him. I remember when he got you that toy Hummer when you were five and the two of you played with it all day. Do you remember that day, Michael?”
“Yes.” The tears were falling heavier. “Are you sure I didn’t make him unhappy?”
“No, you didn’t. When someone dies, the first thing anyone does is wonder if they’d been good enough to him.” Those were almost the words Royd had said to her this morning, she realized. “Well, you were good enough. You have my word on it.”
“Sure?”
“Sure.” It was a strange world, she thought sadly. Last night she had lain in Royd’s arms and taken comfort from him. Tonight she was lying here in bed and giving that comfort to her son. It was like a circle that never stopped. Jesus, she wanted the need for that comfort to stop. “Will you try to sleep? I’m not going to leave you, I promise.”
“You don’t have to stay.” But his arms tightened around her. “I’m not a baby. And I never want to be a duty to you. Not like I was to Daddy.”
Damn it. She had said it all wrong. “Duty isn’t a bad thing. When it’s to someone you love, it can be a joy.” She kissed his cheek. “You’re a joy, Michael. My joy. Never doubt it….”
There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the table, a rivulet running from beneath the closed door across the room.
MacDuff stood in the doorway of the small croft and began to curse.
“Cleanup,” Royd murmured as he gazed over MacDuff’s shoulder at the blood-smeared chaos.
“Shut up,” MacDuff said roughly. “James, how many people are living here now?”
“Old Dermot, his wife, his son. His son brought his little girl back from Glasgow when he got his divorce.” James moistened his lips. “That blood…Do you want me to go check the rooms?”
“No, I’ll do it.” He strode across the room and threw open the door. He froze. “Oh, Christ.”
Jock and Royd followed him.
“Sweet Jesus,” Jock said, his gaze on the carnage. “Dermot?”
“It’s hard to tell.” MacDuff’s voice was hoarse. “Someone almost cut off his face.” He moved into the room. “And they didn’t stop with Dermot.”
A woman lay on the floor. Gray-haired, thin, brown eyes staring sightlessly up at them. Blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth.
“Margaret, Dermot’s wife.” Jock’s lips tightened. “Son of a bitch.” His glance roamed the room. “Where’s Dermot’s son, Mark, and the child?”
“Maybe they got away.” James Campbell’s face was white. “God, I hope they got away.”
“Look for them,” Royd said. “Search the rest of the croft and the grounds. I hope you’re right, but Devlin rarely lets a target slip out of reach.”
“A child?” Campbell asked. “A child wouldn’t be a—”
“Look for them,” Jock said.
Campbell nodded jerkily and strode out of the room.
Jock dropped to his knees beside Dermot, gazing down at the ruin of the old man’s face. “This is over the top. He took some time. An example or does he just like it, Royd?”
“He likes it,” Royd said. “Even before he went through REM-4, he was a killer. Sanborne chose him because he thought he would take to the training better.” He turned to MacDuff who was standing looking down at Dermot. “I’ll get him for you.” His lips twisted. “No, I’ll get him for myself. I stuck a knife in him and he’s not going to forget it. The crazy bastard has a long memory.”
“So do I.” MacDuff’s lips were tight. “And I’m the one who’s going to cut the nuts off this son of a bitch. Dermot was one of mine.” He whirled on his heel. “Let’s go and find Dermot’s son.”
They met Campbell coming toward the house.
“The well.” He swallowed as he nodded to the stone well some distance away. “He’s on the other side of the well.”
“Dead?” MacDuff asked.
Campbell nodded. “There must be fifty stab wounds in his body.”
MacDuff was silent for a moment. “The little girl?”
“We think she’s in the well. We shone a light down there.” He swallowed again. “Or parts of her are in the well. He must have…butchered her.”
MacDuff muttered a curse beneath his breath and started toward the well.
“You don’t have to check it, sir. He’s Dermot’s son.” Campbell was on his heels. “I know him. I couldn’t make a mistake.”
“I don’t doubt you,” MacDuff said. “I just have to see them.”
“Why?” Royd asked as he and Jock caught up with him. “Dead is dead, MacDuff.”
“I need to remember.” MacDuff had reached the well and was gazing down at the man lying on the ground. “Time tricks us. Hatred can fade unless it’s fanned, and memory is the best fuel. You may not understand, but I don’t want to ever forget what Devlin did, even if years pass before I get my hands on him.”
“Oh, I understand,” Royd said.
MacDuff looked at him. “I believe you do.” He braced himself and then shone his flashlight down into the well. He turned off the flashlight. “You’re right, James.” His voice was husky. “He butchered her.” He reached for his telephone. “I’m calling the magistrates. Leave a man up here to meet them, Jock. The rest of us are going back to the castle.”
“I’ll stay,” Jock said. “I don’t want to leave him just now. He was my friend. What do I tell the magistrates?”
“Nothing. A random psychopath.” MacDuff turned away from the well. “I don’t want them to get in my way.” He started back toward the cottage.
Royd watched him as he motioned for Campbell and the men to follow him. “He’s pretty impressive,” he said. “He really means to go after Devlin.”
“Of course,” Jock said. “And I wouldn’t want to be Devlin if he catches up with him.”
Royd frowned. “I’m not sure I like him stepping into the picture.”
“Too late. MacDuff is involved. He might have stayed in the background if it were only a question of protecting Michael. There’s no chance now that Devlin has killed his people.” Jock followed MacDuff toward the cottage. “You’d better get back to the castle and get that arm tended. Do you need me to call for a car?”
Royd shook his head. “I’ll make it okay.” He turned and started down the path after MacDuff.
Devlin.
Why had Sanborne sent that crazy bastard to the castle? He must have known that there could be a bloodbath.
Or maybe not. Devlin had always been smart enough to make Sanborne believe he was fully in control. During those last weeks after Royd had managed to shake off the effects of REM-4, he had grown to suspect that Devlin was not so much manipulated as manipulating. He liked what he did. He loved the blood and the power of the kill. He could indulge that passion under the protection of Sanborne. REM-4 might have had a minimal effect, but he was a killer by nature.
And now Devlin had been given the chance he needed to free that lust for violence. Michael and Sophie had been the targets, but that hadn’t been enough for him. That family he’d butchered would only whet his appetite. He’d go after the prime objective and never stop.
Damn you, Sanborne.
Voices.
Sophie lifted her head. She had left the casement windows open and the voices were coming from the courtyard below.
She carefully slipped out of bed and went to the window. Below were MacDuff and several men, and trailing behind them was Royd. She felt a rush of relief. She’d been lying here after Michael finally went to sleep worrying and cursing him for not calling back.
She glanced at Michael. He was sound asleep and she’d attached the monitor. She could spare a few moments. She glided toward the door.
A moment later she was running down the staircase and throwing open the front door. “Damn you, Royd. Why the hell did you—” She stopped as she saw the bandage. “What happened?”
“He’s a bit damaged.” It was MacDuff who answered. “You have a medical degree, don’t you? Fix him.” He went past her into the castle.
Royd grimaced. “MacDuff is in an autocratic mood tonight. He’s upset. I may need a few stitches but I can call the local doctor.”
She went down the steps. “How did you get damaged?” Christ, her voice was shaking. “And the local doctor may be better able to help you. This isn’t my specialty.”
“No problem.” He started to pass her. “I’ll take care of it.”
“How did you get wounded?” she repeated.
“Knife.”
“You’re white as a sheet. How much blood did you lose?”
“Not too much.”
She couldn’t take any more. “Christ, I hate macho men who are afraid to admit to a little weakness.” She pushed him toward the steps. “Get inside and let me take a look at it.”
“Right.” He swayed as he mounted the steps. “I never argue with a woman who’s stronger than I am. And at the moment you’re definitely stronger than me. Does that exempt me from the macho label?”
“Maybe.” She followed him and took his elbow. “We’ll have to see how sensibly you—”
He swayed and stumbled against the side of the doorjamb. “Oops.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She put his good arm around her shoulders and glanced around for help. MacDuff and his men had all disappeared. “I can’t stay down here. I have to get back to Michael. Are you able to make the stairs if I help you?”
“No problem.”
“There is a problem.” She started up the steps. “Admit it.”
“Okay, there’s a problem.” He took the steps slowly. “But nothing I can’t work through.”
“You’d better warn me if you’re going to faint. I don’t want both of us toppling down the stairs.”
“I’ll go by myself. Just drop—”
“I didn’t say I wanted to drop your ass. I said warn me so that I can keep us from falling. I’m not leaving you on your own.”
“That’s not very bright. There’s no use you falling too.”
“Neither of us is going to—” She drew a deep breath. “Though if you insult my intelligence again, I’ll be tempted to dump you and let you bleed to death.”
“I’m not bleeding any longer.”
“Just shut up.” They had reached the landing and she adjusted her grip and started up the second flight of stairs. “There’s such a thing as accepting help gracefully.”
He was silent. Then as they reached the top of the stairs he said, “I never learned how to do that. When I was a kid, I knew that I had to get by on my own. I can’t remember anyone offering help. Then when I joined the service, it was different. I had to be the best.”
“And anyone at the top of the heap couldn’t ask for help?”
“I couldn’t,” he said simply.
Yes, she could see that he wouldn’t be able to lower his guard to that extent. He was too scarred, and that bold, brash demeanor would have repelled anyone who tried to get beyond that tough exterior.
Jesus, she was actually feeling sorry for him. No one could want sympathy less than Royd, but she could empathize with that kid who must have felt terribly alone. No, perhaps not empathize. Her parents had been everything that was loving and understanding when she was growing up. It was only after that terrible day at the lake that she had felt bewildered and alone. Even then she’d had Michael and Dave to ward off that sense of isolation. Yes, it was sympathy she was feeling. But it didn’t lessen the urge to touch him, give him comfort.
“Stop it.” He was glaring at her. “I can see you brewing that maudlin syrup you spread around. I don’t want it. Dish it out somewhere else.”
She gazed at him in exasperation. He was hurt and weak and that didn’t stop him from being as rough and objectionable as usual. “I will. And I don’t blame all your foster parents for not cuddling you. You would probably have bitten them.”
“Probably.” He was smiling. “That’s better. That’s the way I like to see you. But I wouldn’t bite you.” He added, “Unless you want me to.”
Sensuality. One moment she’d wanted to comfort him and the next he’d made her feel that tingling awareness again. With everything that had been going on, she’d thought that her response to him had lessened.
She quickly looked away from him. “You’re incorrigible.” She pushed him down on a velvet-cushioned bench across the hall from Michael’s room. “Stay here. I have to check on Michael. Or you can go next door to my room and wait.”
“I think I’ll stay here.” He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “Take your time.”
With his eyes closed he appeared more vulnerable and she could almost forget those rough words. But she mustn’t forget them. Royd was not vulnerable and she must not continue to feel this increasing softness toward him. “Don’t fall asleep and tumble off that bench. I don’t know if I could pick you up.”
He smiled without opening his eyes. “I’d trust you. You’d manage.”
She quietly opened Michael’s door and slipped inside. He was still asleep. She crossed the room to look down at him. He seemed undisturbed, but that could change in a heartbeat. He looked so young and helpless. Vulnerable. Only minutes before she had thought that about Royd and he had sensed and rudely rejected it. Michael was beginning to reject any hint of pity too. He would never be rude to her, but his response had been the same as Royd’s. He was growing up and wanting to shoulder his own burdens.
But he couldn’t do that yet. Not yet. She still had him to love and protect for a little while.
She tucked the blanket over him and moved back to the door and left it cracked open.
Royd’s eyes flicked open. “Okay?”
She nodded.
He struggled to his feet and started down the hall. “Then let’s get this over. I know you want to get back to him.”
