Loch

Chapter 25

Isla’s heart leaped when she peered out the window and saw Maddock and Bones coming down the road. She wanted to run down and meet them, but something told her to keep private things private. Even at this late hour, no telling who might be listening. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Maddock’s face when she told him what she’d found.

The soft knock came a minute later, and she opened the door to see the two treasure hunters, their hair still damp from the swim, standing in the hallway.

“We saw your light on,” Maddock whispered. “Is it all right if we come in?”

“It’s not that late,” she said, then glanced at her bedside clock. One o’clock in the morning. “Well, it’s not that late where you’re from.” She opened the door to let the two men in. “You can sit if you like.”

Bones shook his head. “We’ve got wetsuits on under our clothes. I hope the chick at the front desk didn’t think I’d wet my pants.”

“She looked half-asleep to me,” Maddock said, then turned to Isla. “Did you get the message off to Meikle?”

“I did. I believe I managed to make a fairly convincing forgery.” At least, she hoped she’d succeeded.

“Think he bought it?”

She nodded. “He said he’d look into it right away. He didn’t sound as if he suspected anything.”

“Hopefully, that’s the Tuatha off our tails for a while,” Bones said.

“How was your dive?” she asked.

She listened, eyes wide, as the two men recounted their discovery of the sea serpent carving, the hidden door, and the chambers far beneath Urquhart Castle.

“Incredible. So there was some truth to the legend after all?”

Maddock nodded. “Except there was no pestilence. Only a monster, or monsters. At least, that’s the way it looked to us.”

“That’s fascinating,” she said.

“Problem is, it doesn’t bring us any closer to the Tuatha treasure,” Bones said. “Unless a bunch of severed heads are a clue.”

The words jolted Isla all the way down to her toes. She blinked in surprise. “What did you say?”

“Severed heads. The treasure vault was empty, but someone carved seven heads on the inside of the door. We don’t know for sure if it means anything, but as graffiti goes, it’s kind of weird.”

“And you’re certain there were seven heads?” Her heart raced as she hurried to the desk and turned on her computer.

“What’s going on?” Maddock said.

“There was a problem with a couple of the photographs you sent to Jimmy. The flash obscured some of the symbols.”

“I told you, Maddock,” Bones said. “You need to take that photography class with me.”

“Taking photos of nude women for your friend’s adult website is not a photography class. It’s just creepy.”

“I’d say getting engaged turned you into a bore, but you were always a dud,” Bones replied.

Isla felt a pang of jealousy when she heard the word “engaged.” Grow up, she told herself. You barely know the man. She opened the file containing the photographs Maddock had taken beneath Dunstaffnage, and showed them the obscured areas. Then she navigated to the photos Grizzly had taken.

Bones let out a low whistle. “Whoa! We missed some symbols.”

“That’s why the Well of the Dead clue was a bust,” Maddock said. “Good thing Grizzly took some backup photos.”

Isla smirked. “As much as I hate to say it, he does occasionally do something right. Though it’s usually by accident.”

“Were you able to decode the actual message?” Maddock asked.

Isla nodded. “The latter part of the message, the bit about St. Columba’s beastie guarding the treasure, is the same, of course.”

Bones folded his arms and arched his eyebrows. “All right, chick, don’t keep us in suspense. Where is it?”

“Beneath the Well of the Seven Heads. I emailed your friend, Jimmy to show him what I found. He agrees with my translation. He also says you owe him an extra bottle of Wild Turkey for, and I quote, ‘wasting his time with your crappy photography.’”

Maddock winced. “We do tend to dump on him a lot.”

“You do,” Bones said. “I like to solve my own problems.”

“Only because you create so many of them for yourself.” Maddock turned back to Isla. “Do you know where this Well of the Seven Heads is?”

“I do. And it’s not far from here.” She called up a map and showed them the location.

“Good,” Maddock said. “I’m tempted to go there right now, but I’m exhausted. None of us will be at our best until we’ve had at least a few hours’ sleep.”

Bones nodded. “Up and out at 0500?”

“Works for me.” Maddock turned to Isla. “Great work. We’ll see you bright and early.” He and Bones turned to leave.

Heart racing, Isla took a deep breath. “Maddock? Can you stay for a moment? I need to talk to you.”

He and Bones both stopped and turned toward her.

“Just you,” she said.

Bones looked like he was about to protest, but then Maddock gave a quick nod and made a small motion with his hand.

Bones gave Isla a long, hard look, then turned to Maddock. “I’ll see you back in the room in a few minutes.” He emphasized the last two words. When he left, he didn’t close the door behind him.

“What’s up?” Maddock asked, his expression unreadable.

“You asked about my parents. I thought I should answer your question.”

He glanced at his watch. “Does it have to be right now?”

“Just listen. I trust you more than the others.” She hurried to the door, glanced out into the hall to make certain Bones was not around, and then closed it behind her. How much to tell him?

“My parents weren’t just obsessed with the Tuatha. They were members, and they were in deep.”

Maddock frowned. “What, exactly, does that mean? What were they into?”

“They managed to hide almost everything from me. What I did learn, I picked up by snooping, eavesdropping. I can tell you that the Tuatha isn’t all bad.”

“Except when they’re shooting at us or trying to kidnap you.”

“I’m just saying their overall aims aren’t the worst. They care about our history, our cultural heritage. They strive for unity instead of fragmentation. There’s much in the past that binds the Irish, Scottish, and even some English and French together.”

“That can be a good thing, or it can be a slippery slope toward xenophobia.”

Isla shook her head. “I’m not making a lot of sense here. Bear with me.” She took a deep breath. “For argument’s sake, let’s presume that there are,” she paused, searching for the proper word, “powers that defy the laws of science.”

Maddock nodded. “Go on.”

“Let’s also assume that at least some of the ancient legends are much more than that.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that.” A strange glimmer sparkled in his blue eyes as he spoke. “It’s one of those things I haven’t told you about. I didn’t want you to think Bones and I are crazy.”

The tension drained from Isla’s body, and she smiled. “Thank the gods. I’ve been holding this back, too. I believe the gods of the Tuatha are real, or at least, they were. I don’t know if the treasures actually have any supernatural powers, but I’m open to the possibility. The Roman Empire and the Catholic Church shattered us. We lost our identity. Finding these treasures could bring back who we were.”

Maddock took a step back, held up his hands. “I hear you, I really do. But I need you to understand. On more occasions than I can count, Bones and I have run up against people who had the same, exact idea, and none of them were what I would call good guys.”

“It’s not about that. It’s about bringing back pride and hope, getting out from beneath the weight of oppression. I promise.”

“How can you know that for certain if you aren’t a part of the organization?”

Isla hung her head. “I suppose I can’t, but I know my parents. Or at least, I knew them. They were decent people, and they wouldn’t have supported a sinister agenda.” A solitary tear traced a path down her cheek. She’d tried so hard not to think about her parents.

Maddock moved closer to her, so close they were almost touching.

“What happened to them?” he asked softly.

“They died a few years ago, while I was living in America. At least, that’s what Fairly told me. They went to Patagonia in search of some lost Celtic tribe or some such. He said they died along with several other Tuatha in a massive cave collapse. Their bodies were never recovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

She felt Maddock’s strong arms wrap around her, felt his tight embrace. And then he stepped back. “I’d better get back before Bones comes knocking on the door. Thanks for trusting me with this.”

“Wait.” Before she could change her mind, Isla grabbed him around the neck and kissed him. For a brief, beautiful moment, she felt him respond. His hand moved to her shoulders.

And then, gently, he pushed her away.

“I’m sorry. I can’t right now. I’ve got…”

“A fiancée.” The bitterness of rejection tinged her words. “I understand.”

“Exactly.” He couldn’t quite meet her eye as he spoke. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He stepped out the door and gently closed it behind him, leaving Isla simmering in a stew of her own disappointment, jealousy, and anger.

The loud rumble of tires on gravel told Brown he’d once again drifted off the road. He was in desperate need of sleep, but after losing Isla Mulheron and her crew, his neck was on the chopping block. Literally. Brigid had told him as much when Brown had reported the tires being slashed on both of their vehicles.

There had been no dressing down from the leader of the Tuatha de Dannan. Not even a disapproving stare. Brigid simply made a call and had the tires replaced. Afterward, she handed the keys to Brown and said, “If you have not found Isla by the time I see you next, I will cut off your head.”

The cold, matter of fact way in which she made the promise was the most chilling thing Brown had ever heard. In fact, the memory brought some life back to his fatigue-soaked brain.

He’d driven everywhere searching for any sign of Mulheron or the big American Indian with whom she appeared to be working. He’d searched all over Culloden, in case she’d tried to fool him by staying put. Then he drove around Inverness, checking hotel parking lots for a vehicle that resembled hers. The problem was, there were a fair number of red Kia Sportages in the city, all of which he had to check out, but none of those he saw bore the Scottish Adventure window sticker he was searching for. Finally, half on a hunch, half out of desperation, he’d driven to Loch Ness. It seemed like the sort of place the Tuatha would hide their treasure, though Brigid and Fairly insisted otherwise.

He’d circled the Loch half a dozen times, but still no sign of his quarry. He had to find her.

“Hells bells. What am I going to do?” he whispered. “I can’t go back.” Not for the first time tonight, he wondered what would happen if he just fled the country. Would Brigid bother to send someone after him? After all, the woman had said, “When I see you next.” Maybe if she never saw Brown again…

The blare of a car horn brought him back to full alert. He had drifted into the oncoming lane! He yanked the wheel hard to the left to avoid an oncoming SUV. He jerked his head around to see a man giving him the finger. He couldn’t believe it. It was the Indian!

His spirits buoyed, he watched in his rear-view mirror until the vehicle rounded a bend out of sight, then he made a quick U-turn. He’d follow them and try to avoid notice, but he was not going to let them out of his sight this time.

Should he report in now? Call for backup? Had he completed his task by finding Isla, or was the order to eliminate her companions still in play? He hadn’t had the courage to ask. He mulled it over. Reaching out to Brigid was out of the question. The woman had hung a sword of Damocles over Brown’s head, and she was a notoriously impatient type.

He’d take his chances with Fairly. He dialed the number and waited, heart in his throat, as it rang five, six, seven times before a tired voice answered.

“You’re up early.”

“Sorry,” Brown said, “but I found Isa Mulheron, and I thought I should report in.”

“And you didn’t want to tell Brigid?”

“I got the impression she didn’t want to hear from me until I’d finished the job. And I’m not sure if that job still includes killing Isla’s traveling companions. Still, I thought her whereabouts shouldn’t be kept a secret.”

“Where is she?”

“Leaving Loch Ness. Heading south in a hurry.”

Fairly fell silent for a moment. “Heading south. Must be on her way to Borthwick. But how did she know? Damn that Meikle. He’s playing both sides.”

“Borthwick?” Brown asked.

“Isla found a clue at Culloden. Meikle decoded it, says it points to Borthwick Castle.”

Brown considered this new bit of information. It didn’t sit well with him. He was certain Mulheron and her party had arrived at Culloden after the Tuatha, and had turned around and left right away.

“I think it’s a red herring,” he said.

“I’ve considered that possibility myself,” Fairly said. “Follow them. Keep me apprised of their whereabouts.”

“Brigid wanted them killed. At least, she wanted Isla’s companions killed. Are those still my orders?”

The line went silent. After a few confused seconds in which Brown worried he’d dropped the call, Fairly cleared his throat.

“No. At least, not for the moment. Let Isla be our hound, sniffing out the treasure. It might be that her companions are providing essential support. I’ve kept an eye on her for years, and she made little progress until she joined forces with these men. Let’s see what they accomplish. We can kill as many of them as we like when the time comes, assuming, of course, Brigid doesn’t change her mind.”

Brown nodded, though he knew Fairly couldn’t see him. “You think she might decide to kill all of them?”

“Who can say? It’s possible.” Fairly cleared his throat. “And one more thing.”

“What’s that?” Brown asked.

“Whatever you do, don’t lose them this time.”