CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Deirdre stood over the body of the innkeeper, smiling down at her lifeless form. She'd recognized her from the news footage this morning over coffee. It was a shame, really. She was just starting to like the woman, thinking they might be friends.

Not really. She could never be friends with a commoner such as her.

Wiping the blood off the knife on the woman's dress, she carefully washed it and placed it back in the drawer, wiping the handle afterwards. With her own dress, now splattered in blood, she was forced to fold it up and stuff it in a bag, then pull on a wool dress owned by her hostess.

It was so far beneath her it was absurd, but then again, the dress was miles ahead of the one she'd worn traversing across the world, escaping her own country.

A few minutes later, she casually shut the door and walked to her car, heading north toward Scotland. It would be a few days before the woman was found. She'd divulged to her this morning that she didn't have another guest arriving for two days. That was enough time for Deirdre to be long gone.

Making her way north through Sheffield, Barnsley, Wakefield, and Leeds, she tried to avoid any public rest areas or restaurants where someone might recognize her. She had a scarf around her head and large dark glasses over her eyes and part of her face. Once she stopped tonight, she would use the scissors taken from her innkeeper and cut her hair off.

By the time she reached Belsay Hall Castle, she was exhausted and in desperate need of a bath and hot meal. She'd met the owners of the castle several years before, but no doubt their hospitality wouldn't be available to her at this point.

Thankfully, she knew that there was an old caretaker's cottage that hadn't been used in years. It was completely renovated and awaiting their son's return from India. Hopefully, he hadn't returned yet.

Parking the car behind a group of trees and shrubs, she hiked through the wet grass toward the little cottage. It was pretty enough, just not her style. But then again, beggars couldn't be choosers.

Finding the key exactly where the owner had left it, beneath a flowerpot, she tapped lightly on the door just in case. When no one answered, she entered, grateful for the dry interior. Immediately, she set about turning up the heat and putting a kettle of water on for tea.

When that was done, she took the scissors to her hair, cutting it close to her head. Stepping beneath the hot spray of the shower, she rinsed the road dust and sweat from her body, feeling refreshed.

With hot tea in her hand, she settled into the overstuffed sofa and turned on the television. Her face was everywhere.

"What a horrid picture," she said to herself. "Surely, there's a better photograph of me somewhere. I'll bet Daphne did this to me."

She smiled as they claimed she was dangerous and should not be approached. Perhaps that would keep people away from her for a while. Then again, the reward was growing by the day. That could draw others who wanted a piece of the pie.

Seeing the small laptop, she prayed she could fire it up and get some research done. There had to be a ship leaving from the north soon. It was the end of summer, and the last of the fishing vessels and oil rig workers would be coming and going. If she could just get to one of the northern European countries, she could find a way out of this mess. Once she was able to regroup, she would reformulate her plan and come back for those she wanted.

Finding the page she needed, she learned exactly what she was looking for. There were more than seven ships scheduled to depart over the next week. If she could bribe the captain to take her anywhere, she would be home free.

Content, she fell asleep beneath the warmth of the down comforter. Although it was summer, the nights further north were quite cool. Sleeping longer than she planned, she woke to the sounds of lawn tools and cursed herself.

Quickly, she dressed in the spare outfit she'd taken from the innkeeper and gathered her things. She made the bed as best she could. After all, she wasn't accustomed to doing her own housework. Peeking out the window, she saw the lawn crew on the other side of the hedges and made her way down the path toward her car. Once inside, she set her sights on Scotland.

By dinner, she would be in Edinburgh and could lose herself amongst the thousands of people in the big city. Near Granton Beach, she would find a small cottage for rent. She called the number on the sign outside and asked if she could reserve it for just one night.

Although the owner wanted a long-term renter, having someone there one night was better than no nights. He never even showed up. He asked her to place the cash on the table and take the key from the mailbox. Easy as pie.

With a beautiful view of the water, she dared to pour herself a glass of the complimentary scotch and lounged outside on the balcony. With her feet up on the ledge, she chuckled at herself. Then she remembered something wonderful.

A delivery service that she could order things from and have delivered right to her doorstep. How marvelous! In fact, it had been set up by Marshall and had his account information in it. How absolutely perfect!

Once online, she ordered four pairs of trousers, four sweaters, two new dresses, a few snacks and grocery items, a new pair of shoes, and a new pair of boots. None of it was the quality she was used to. No designer items would be delivered by a driver. But within two hours, it was delivered to her doorstep, and she was feeling better already.

"You always were a winner, Deirdre. You'll win this one as well."