It Happened in Scotland by Patience Griffin

Author:Patience Griffin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-11-03T11:54:01+00:00

* * *

Sitting at the dock in the wheelhouse of his boat, Brodie gazed out at the sea. He glanced down, his pencil hovering over the logbook; he forgot what he was supposed to write . . . again! He was effing useless this morning, as tired as he was, and not because he was distracted. Tuck had just left. Good riddance.

The fish didn’t cooperate today. Tuck’s help had been appreciated, but his incessant blather wasn’t. All in all, it had been a rotten morning on the sea. Brodie wished to reboot the day. But he wouldn’t regret last night, though he was wiped out now. He’d stayed awake, watching over Rachel and Hannah at the cottage. A stranger in Gandiegow was keeping an eye on Rachel. Well, Brodie was keeping an eye on her, too. He was determined to catch the bastard and find out what game he was playing at. Brodie must’ve been squeezing too hard because the pencil snapped in two.

With the lead half, he scribbled in the low numbers for the morning and then stalked off the boat. He’d kept his eye out earlier this morning for the man who was lurking around town, and he was going to keep scanning for him nonstop. But if Brodie didn’t get home and get a little shut-eye, he’d be driving the boat in his sleep this afternoon.

As he got to the walkway, he spied a woman with two very large roller bags coming from the parking lot.

“What in the world?”

It was a woman dressed in a long coat made of the MacFarlane tartan of red, white, and blue. She wore a matching tammie on her head. She was the same height as Rachel but a little thicker around the middle . . . and the last person I want to see. It was too late to pretend he’d forgotten something on the boat, because she’d already seen him, too.

Her look of shock was priceless and he felt satisfied, though it wasn’t exactly the Christian thing to think. Of course, her expression caught up with how she felt about him, transforming from stunned to general disapproval, which inhabited every nook and cranny on her face. The last time he’d seen that look of disgust was during Joe and Rachel’s wedding, leaving him no doubt Rachel had filled her mother in on the details of what they’d been doing at the ruins of Monadail Castle. What Brodie didn’t understand . . . was why.

But he knew why Vivienne Granger was wearing the MacFarlane tartan. The Clachers were part of the MacFarlane clan. Rachel’s mother was making a statement to one and all. She stood with Joe Clacher. But Joe was dead.

She marched toward Brodie with an eyebrow raised, the type of woman to lead the charge into battle. He could see that trait in Rachel, too. Vivienne lifted her nose a little. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“Aye.” What else could he say? He wasn’t happy to see her either, but he could be courteous.

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