The Presence Part 29

"Lucky for them," Bruce said. "Which two? And why is that important?"

"Well, we're following two mysteries here, wouldn't you say? For them to have gotten the permits and licenses they have, there had to be some truth to their rental agreements. That means that someone did have a h.e.l.l of a lot on you, such as information regarding your actual t.i.tle, your numbers in our old British society... information that only you, as an individual, should have had. A crack computer hacker can get all kinds of information on someone, which is why ident.i.ty theft is getting to be such an issue these days."

"o, in other words, you're telling me that one of them might have known about me, gotten into my records, faked being me and rented the castle to them?" Bruce asked.

"Well, it's a possibility."

Bruce shook his head. "But whoever did must have known that I'd eventually show up."

"Right. But if the person had done it just to get money out of the others and knew how to make the computer site disappear.. .well, what would he, or she, care at that point?"

"What about Thayer Fraser?"

"So far," Robert said, "I only know that he has one h.e.l.l of a Web page--oh, and that he's big into computer gaining. Medieval game playing on line, you know, the kind that goes on forever and forever, with one guy at a computer in Glasgow playing with someone in London, New York, Moscow.. .or maybe just in Stirling."

Bruce nodded, taking in the information. "Still, none of the Americans has a criminal record. That is a piece of good news."

Robert parted his folded hands, refolded them. "Aye, sure. But then there's this, as well. And.. .this probably doesn't mean a thing. I just found it interesting."

"What?" Bruce said.

"Well, there's a strange time line here. It has to be a coincidence, I imagine."

"What?" Bruce said, exasperated. Robert didn't often beat around the bush.

"Helen MacDougal disappeared from Glasgow on June third, a year ago."

"And I found her on August thirtieth, in the water," Bruce said, frowning.

"Mary Granger disappeared November eleventh, last year."

Bruce's brows furrowed to a deeper degree. "Aye, Eban found her in early January. In worse shape."

"January tenth, to be precise."

"Robert, what are you getting at?"

"Annie O'Hara disappeared, we think, just a week or more ago."

"Aye.. .so? Are we goin' somewhere here, Robert? If so, I don't see where," Bruce told him.

"You know hotels ask for pa.s.sports when you check in," Robert said.

"Aye, of course."

"Well, your friends--Toni, the Brownes, Kevin and David, at least--were in a hotel in Glasgow, June of last year."

Bruce frowned. "They've said they've vacationed here, many times."

Robert nodded and drew out a folder by his side, flipping a page. "November last, Mary Granger disappeared from Stirling."

"And you're going to tell me my friends were in Stirling?"

"No. Glasgow."

He accepted that, frowning. "And two weeks ago?"

"They were back in Edinburgh, making the arrangements for licenses and the like."

Bruce shook his head. "Robert, if you're trying to draw a connection here--"

"I'm not. I'm just letting you know what I found out. And the coincidence regarding the dates just happened before my eyes. I'd be remiss not to mention it to you."

"Aye, you're right, but--" Bruce shook his head. "Think about them, one by one. Toni? A murderess of prost.i.tutes? Kevin and David--they don't fit the profile at all. Gina and Ryan? Frankly, I just don't see it."

"We don't actually have a profile--"

"But we know what it would be. White, heteros.e.xual male, young, twenties to thirties, day job, probably menial, maybe even a wife or steady girlfriend."

Robert nodded. "Aye, you've a point there. But profiles have been off. You know that yourself. Remember, years ago? What profiler, no matter how good, would have come up with the real scenario, a husband and wife killing team?"

Bruce shrugged. "Robert, I think we're grasping at straws here. If we had to go through a roster of every foreigner who happened to be in the country at the times of the murders--or disappearances--I think we'd have some numbers to go through. And if we're looking at opportunity, I'm afraid we've a nation full of people to look through, as well."

"Bruce, you don't need to be defendin' the crew. All I'm telling you is what I happened to see when I made inquiries--which I did at your behest."

George hurried over, nearly tossing down their plates. "d.a.m.n, but if I could just get meself a decent la.s.s!" he swore.

Bruce frowned suddenly, catching the man's arm when he was hurrying to move on.

"George?"

"Aye? Sir, be quick, would ye?"

"Your girl just walked out on you? Or just didn't show up? She didn't quit, I mean, let you know she was leaving?"

George waved an impatient hand in the air. "She was another wanderer on the loose. Strange accent--looked more the Norse type, which she should. La.s.s came down from Orkney. And quit? Resign? Have the courtesy to let a fellow know she wasn't coming back? Are y'jestin'? h.e.l.l no! She didn't show up, and that's that. Got herself enough money and hurried on to the next town, no doubt. Now, sir, I've got food piling up in the kitchen!"

Bruce stared across the table at Robert. "You might want to make some inquiries here," he said softly.

Robert looked down at the table and shook his head. "Aye," he said, and pushed away the plate of fish and chips he had been so antic.i.p.ating.

Toni called the number she swore she'd never dial, only to find that Adam Harrison was out of town. When the young man answering the phone asked if she'd like to leave her name and a message, she nearly hung up. But she had her own cell phone with her--it wasn't as if he'd call back and leave a message on a line that anyone might answer. After hesitating, she left her name and phone number.

"Oh, hi!" the voice on the other end said. "Toni Fraser...Adam said to pay sharp attention if you ever called. Someone will be right back with you."

Someone?

Toni didn't feel particularly comfortable with that information, but she thanked the young man anyway and rang off.

For a moment, she pondered her next move. She nearly jumped sky-high when her cell phone, still in her hand, began to ring. She fumbled with the little b.u.t.tons, nearly hanging up on the caller.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi. Toni?"

The voice on the other end was feminine.

"Yes?" she said carefully.

"My name is Darcy. Darcy Stone. I work with Adam Harrison."

Toni was silent. It had been one thing to contemplate talking with Adam, a man who knew her. The gentle soul who had been there when a young child's world had fallen apart. The man who had come to see her one-woman show, but didn't press it when she said that she was just fine, not having any more nightmares, no more visions....

"Toni?"

The woman's voice was crystal clear; she might have been in the next town.

"Yes, I'm here."

"Listen, please don't worry, Adam isn't shuffling you off to anyone. You can speak with him in a few hours-- he's on a plane right now. It's just that he has your name on a special list, and he's always said that if you called in, we were to get back to you immediately. Please, nothing you say to me will ever go any further than me. And again, no matter how insane it might sound, don't be afraid to say anything. Anything at all."

Toni stared at the phone slightly skeptically, as if by looking at it she could somehow fathom the truth of the words being said.

"Let's start at the beginning," Darcy Stone said, from across the miles. "Where are you?"

"Scotland. A small village known as Tillingham. At-- at the castle there."

"A castle. In Tillingham?"

"Yes." Toni took a breath. "I think I'm seeing a ghost," she said.

"Then you probably are," came the matter-of-fact answer.

"I am?"

"Yes." Darcy chuckled. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid you'll hang up on me when I say this, but...I see many ghosts."

Toni was tempted to hang up.

"Please, don't hang up, and do talk to me," the woman said, as if entirely aware of Toni's every thought and action.

"I rented a castle with friends in Scotland, rented with a lease option to buy," Toni said. "Except it turned out that we didn't really rent it, at least, not from the owner. We were told the family had died out, but there's a very current laird. I made up a story about an ancestor of his, and it turned out to have happened, right down to the name of the laird's wife." She hesitated. "I dreamed, or woke up, a ghost. The man in my nightmares, or ghost in reality, is the exact image of the living laird. I thought at first that maybe I was being taken, as we had been taken in by the corporation supposedly leasing the property. But then, there are the murders."

"The murders?"

"Women have been disappearing. Three to date, I believe. And two have been found in the forest bordering the castle. I went into the forest one day, led by the.. .ghost. I found bones. Everyone a.s.sumed it was the third victim, but it looks as if it's the old laird's lady, dead now for centuries. He wasn't an old laird, he just lived in the sixteen hundreds. I'm not making any sense at all. I'm--" Again she hesitated, thinking that she really was losing her mind. This wasn't even Adam she was talking to, and she was spilling out way more than she had ever planned. "I've quickly fallen into a certain involvement with the young laird, the contemporary laird, who certainly has been decent enough about this whole thing. We rented, or thought we rented the place to do theatrical tours--"

"I saw your production of Queen Varina," the woman interjected. "It was wonderful."

Toni had never liked to think that she overreacted to either criticism or praise. But at that moment, she decided that she definitely liked the woman on the other end of the phone.

"Thanks," she said softly. "Um...he--the laird, that is--doesn't see ghosts. Or the ghost." She hesitated. "There's only one."

Darcy was silent for a moment. "Women have been found in the area, dead. But the ghost brought you to the remains of his longhead wife?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen him since?"

"Yes. Now he keeps leading me to the crypts."

There was no way she could ever describe this conversation to anyone.

"There's a simple answer," Darcy Stone said from the other end.

"And that is?"

"He wants her by his side. Now that you've found her, he wants her buried where she should be--at his side."

Toni was startled to feel a rise of excitement. Lord, yes! That would make so much sense. Well, if the fact that she was seeing a ghost made sense, then his leading her to the crypts after she had found the bones would definitely align, at any rate.

"Yes," she murmured.

"Of course, it might not be that simple," Darcy warned.

"Now that you've said that to me, it has to be!" Toni said. "I saw him at the foot of my bed, and then going into the forest. And then...into the crypts. Oh!" She groaned.

"What?"

"They think she's an incredible historic find. His wife, the lady I found. I'm afraid they'll want to study her, put her in a museum."

"Well, that's easy enough to handle. And I don't think this is one you're going to have to worry about at all. Her descendant just says no! But still, there might be a lot more going on there."

"Not in this residence," Toni said. "There are terrible things going on--"

"The victims found in the forest weren't a.s.sociated with the castle?"

"No, definitely not. They were part-time prost.i.tutes at the very least, and kidnapped from three major cities, Edinburgh, Glasgow and Stirling."

"You're certain there can be no a.s.sociation?"

"That would be impossible. Really. We haven't been here that long. And aside from us, there's the laird and a fellow who works for him."

"I see."

Toni hesitated, aware that she should mention the fact that Eban scared the wits out of her. And that, at times, she'd almost convinced herself that the current laird was dressing up as a ghost. She had never seen the both of them at the same time!