8. Sullivan

8

SULLIVAN

I was stunned but happy to find a power cord for my laptop as well as ports built into the desk in the bedroom. While I waited for it to charge enough for me to use it, I returned to the living room and perused the books on the shelves.

Mrs. Drummond was still in the kitchen, tidying up even though it looked perfectly clean to me.

She’d been so gracious and kind to me thus far, I hesitated to pose the questions I was dying to ask. Surely, she would know the history of the castle and why security measures were so tight on an estate where an SIS sniper lived in a one-bedroom cottage.

For the second time, I talked myself out of it.

I glanced out the window, wondering where David had run off to in such haste.

Deciding it wouldn’t be right for me to ask Mrs. Drummond about his whereabouts either, I leaned down to look at some of the larger books on the bottom section, elated when I saw one about Scottish castles. I pulled it, along with a couple of others, from the shelves and carried it into the bedroom without glancing at Mrs. Drummond to determine whether she’d noticed or not.

As anxious as I was to see if the castle was in the book, I had far more urgent matters to attend to now that my computer was charged enough to power on.

I searched for a Wi-Fi network, stunned when I found one that didn’t require a password. However, after pulling up the log-in page for the Crown Herald servers, the connection dropped.

Next, I tried an encrypted app I used to contact sources I didn’t want the news agency I worked for to have access to. It had a built-in connection log, which immediately appeared on the screen.

Standard Wi-Fi: Blocked

Mobile data: Limited

Satellite connection: Intercepted

Secure VPN: Rerouted

While all this sounded standard, the intercepted satellite connection and rerouted VPN were mildly suspicious and majorly frustrating.

Irritated by my inability to access the outside world, I picked up the book about Scottish castles. After skimming the pages, I was disappointed not to find any photos that looked similar to the one that sat on the promontory above the cottage. I turned back to the copyright page and saw the publication date was four decades ago, not that much would’ve changed with structures that were centuries old.

I heard the front door open and close, and when I peeked out the window, I saw Mrs. Drummond walking down the trail in the direction of the loch. Odd that she hadn’t knocked or called out that she was leaving. That she was gone, though, gave me the opportunity to do more exploring.

Something felt off about the place, almost as if it had been designed for a movie set. While everything in it looked authentic, it didn’t feel that way.

Since I didn’t have my mobile, something that still infuriated me, I made do with what I did have. I returned to the bedroom and grabbed my laptop. While using it to capture images wasn’t ideal, it would suffice.

It took me a few minutes to get the camera angle right, but once I had, I raced around, collecting as many photos as I could. Periodically, I’d look out the window to be sure neither Mrs. Drummond nor David were in the vicinity.

I returned to the bookshelves, studying the titles more closely than I had earlier. Many were recent releases but in a multitude of genres with no set pattern. It was almost as though they were chosen as props rather than by someone interested in reading them. I was about to pull a crime-related hardback out when I glanced toward the window and saw Mrs. Drummond approaching. I quickly returned to the bedroom and set my computer on the desk. I was headed out to the living room and gasped when something occurred to me.

“Where’s David?” I asked.

Mrs. Drummond looked up from where she was making another cup of tea. “Is there something you need, luv?”

“I must speak with him right away.” I looked up at the clock on the wall. “Is that right?”

She glanced behind her, then at her watch. “It is.”

I counted the number of hours I had left before the “dead man’s switch” protocol I’d set up for my investigation would activate.

I’d already missed the first twelve-hour digital check-in. If I didn’t do it before the twenty-four-hour mark, level-one activation would automatically commence.

First, the news agency would be notified of my disappearance. No doubt they’d stage a press conference. Then Clive would be alerted to where he could find my notes. It wouldn’t be all of them. Those would come in increments, based on how much time had passed between check-ins. Theoretically, if I were dead, Clive would have all of it within a maximum of forty-eight hours. Given what I’d overheard of his conversation, I couldn’t risk him accessing any of the investigation, even the preliminary notes.

“It’s imperative I speak with him in the next fifteen minutes.” I had more time than that, but who knew how long it would take before someone could arrange for me to have the access I needed.

“Of course,” I watched as she pulled out her mobile and sent a message. The sight of it infuriated me all over again.

“Where the bloody hell is mine?” I muttered under my breath.

“Pardon?” she asked.

“My phone wasn’t in the box with the other items,” I snapped, immediately regretting my tone. None of this was Mrs. Drummond’s fault.

“I hope it didn’t get tossed with the rest of the rubbish,” she said.

I’d sifted through it more than once before, deciding nothing else of import was in the box, so I was certain it hadn’t been.

“Perhaps you should take another look.”

While I doubted it would miraculously turn up in the stuff I’d unpacked and left scattered on the bed, it was at least worth a try. I was about to return to the bedroom, but when I glanced out the window and saw David approaching, I stepped outside instead.

There was something about the way he stalked toward the cottage that seemed familiar in the same way his eye twitch did. However, there was no way I’d met the man prior to his saving my life last night. If I had, I never would’ve forgotten him. Better put, my girly bits wouldn’t have.

There was power in each step he took. It reverberated from every muscle in his chiseled body. The closer he got, the more I wanted to know how it felt to be in his arms with his mouth fused to mine. I slowly walked toward him.

“What’s this about, Sullivan?” he asked when we were almost close enough to touch.

“Dead man’s switch.”

His eyes scrunched, then he nodded. “How much time do you have left?”

I wasn’t surprised that he knew what I was referring to. “Approximately six hours before level-one activation. However, without a mobile or internet access, I have no way of checking in.”

“Understood.”

He pulled out his mobile. “Meet us at the cottage.”

I looked beyond him a few seconds later and saw two men headed our way. “Who’s that?”

“People I work with at SIS.” He glanced over his shoulder, hesitated for a moment, then added, “They are also two of my closest friends. I trust them with my life. Therefore, I trust them with yours.”

His response felt oddly personal . “David?”

He turned from looking at them to me. “Yes?”

“Have we met before?”

“Last night?”

Another curious response. “Yes, of course before last night.”

“I don’t know when it might have been.”

I folded my arms and studied him when I saw the telltale eye twitch. We had met, but when? And why was he lying about it?

“I’ll introduce you before we go inside,” he said when they got closer.

“Um, okay.”

“Sullivan Rivers, meet Conrad Carnegie and Niall MacTaggert, aka Con and Tag.”

“It’s a pleasure,” said the one David pointed to first.

I shook his outstretched hand. “Likewise.”

“Ms. Rivers,” said the second one, bowing slightly, like Angus had when we met.

We walked over to the door of the cottage, and David waved me inside first.

“Give me a moment.”

The two men and I stood a few paces inside while David spoke with Mrs. Drummond in hushed tones. The only thing I heard her say was, “Yes, of course, sir,” before she gathered her things, waved in my direction, and walked out.

Now, I felt terrible for snapping at her as I had.

“Is she coming back?” I asked.

David studied me. “Is there something you need?”

“No, I just…Never mind.”

After nodding once, closing the door, and locking it behind her, he motioned for us to take a seat.

“There are two issues with some urgency that need to be addressed,” he began. “Con, I believe you can assist with the first. Tag, with the second.” He turned to me. “Both men have been briefed by SIS as to why you are here. They’re also aware of last evening’s events at Edinburgh Castle and your investigation into Eric Weber and Tower-Meridian.”

When both men nodded in my direction, David continued.

“As was prudent, either Ms. Rivers or the news agency she works for put a dead man’s switch protocol in place in regard to the aforementioned investigation. The clock is ticking on the level-one activation.”

Con pulled a computer out of a bag he brought in with him. “What are the digital check-in requirements?”

“All I need is internet access.”

“While Con works on that, the other issue is relocation,” said David.

My heart sank. He’d made it clear he didn’t want to bring me here in the first place. More, he hadn’t wanted to take on the burden of responsibility for me. He was a sniper, not a bodyguard.

“Where? Or is that information classified?”

I saw a hint of a smile. “An estate bordering this one.”

I blinked away the threatening tears.

“Only temporarily,” said Tag. “It’s my estate, and I assure you, it’s quite comfortable.”

“While I appreciate it, I suppose the more important thing is that Eric Weber’s associates are unable to find me.” I thought about the hidden security here and that, even though I found it odd, it was reassuring.

While I hated to bring it up, I had to. “You said my mobile had to be destroyed to prevent tracking. Wouldn’t the same be true for my laptop?”

“You’re all set,” said Con, looking up from his computer before David could respond. “What’s this about Eric Weber and your laptop?”

“I assure you, the security systems at Glenshadow are state of the art,” Tag interjected, then added, “Sullivan asked why her laptop hasn’t been destroyed.”

“It wasn’t necessary to do so,” said Con.

While I wanted to know why not, at this point, the conversation was disjunct enough I doubted anyone was even paying attention to me. Plus, I was more concerned about my eminent relocation. My gaze had alternated between David’s two colleagues and him, but I couldn’t read his expression. When his eyes met mine, then quickly looked away, I was crestfallen.

Good riddance, I supposed. After being here with him for less than twenty-four hours, it was silly to think I’d miss the man. Or he, me.

As much as I knew I should quit gawking, I couldn’t. All three men were among the most handsome I’d ever seen.

Tag and Con looked as though they could be related. Both had dark hair and similar facial structures. Tag was clean-shaven, and Con had a scruffy beard, similar to David’s, which was longer and ash-blond like his hair. It was unusual that each had different colored eyes. Con’s were blue, Tag’s brown, and David’s green. Like so many things about him, they were familiar.

“So it’s your estate that borders this one?” I asked Tag.

“Yes,” he responded, glancing at David.

Something was at play here that I couldn’t figure out. “How long have you known one another?”

“All our?—”

“Careers,” David interrupted Con.

The three also had similar speech patterns and accents. It was the former I found most curious, although if David grew up on the estate, I supposed he could’ve picked up the more affluent affectation.

“You should check in,” David reminded me.

“Of course. Right. I’ll do that now.” I stood and went into the bedroom, stunned when he followed. I turned around and watched as he took in the mess left when I’d unpacked the box containing the contents of my car. “Sorry, I’ll, uh, obviously, get this cleaned up, err, packed up.” It occurred to me, then, I had nothing to put it all in. “I should’ve hung on to the box,” I muttered.

“I’ll have luggage sent round.”

I’d tell him it wasn’t necessary, but I had no other options.

He cleared his throat and pointed to my computer.

“Yes, right.” I sat on the end of the bed and pulled up the Crown Herald’s log-in screen. Unlike earlier, the connection was immediate, and I was successful in accessing the check-in protocol. “Done,” I said, looking up at him. His gaze still swept the room. “Sorry, it’s just that I emptied the box and…”

Why was I explaining myself? As soon as the luggage arrived, I’d clean everything up and be on my way. Perhaps I’d even ask if I could stay at Tag’s place—Glenshadow, I thought he called it—for the duration of my “protective custody,” so I wasn’t underfoot here.

There was a knock at the door, and I bristled instinctively.

“That will be the bags,” he said, turning to retreat down the hallway.

As much as I wanted to see what else I could access now that I had an online connection, it would be best if I packed my stuff quickly so I could leave. I moved my pile of things to one side of the bed so there’d be room to put the suitcase when David returned with it.

“Um, the clothes, should I?—”

“Take them with you.”

“Of course,” I said under my breath, wishing such an innocuous answer didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

“If you have other things to take care of, I’m sure Tag can?—”

“I’ll be staying at Glenshadow also.”

“Oh. Uh, is that necessary?”

“Yes,” he said before he abruptly turned and left.

Well, then, I thought, shaking my head and foolishly smiling.