Page 11 of A Flower for Angus

Sharp words spewed in his ear like spitballs and just as nasty. “Well, out with it. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“She has distant relatives in Ireland,” Vince hastily informed his client. “I found a picture of her in a scrapbook with a deceased cousin in front of Inverness Castle in Scotland. At least that’s what the back of the picture says, I haven’t been there myself.”

Adrian swore a blue streak and grabbed the back of the hardwood chair in front of the desk. “Find. Her.”

The order was given through clenched teeth, as if the man was striving not to leap forward and tear Vince’s throat out. His fingers were flexing like claws and his gaunt figure leaned forward over the chairback to drive his point home.

Vince instinctively rolled backward in his office chair as if warding off a demon from hell. He would dearly like to tell Condoloro he was done and to hire someone else, but the butt of the gun beneath his suit jacket held him back. He suddenly felt sorry for the stepmother.

“I’ll find her for you,” he shot back with a defensive scowl, “but I won’t be a party to doing anything to harm her. I want to be perfectly clear about that.”

“I never told you to harm her, I just want to know where she is so I can serve her with subpoenas when I have to. Now that you’ve let her get out of the country, it’s going to make that a lot harder to do.Isn’t it?”

The emphasis of his point was not lost on Vince as Condoloro went on, the mustache wiggling frantically again. “I’ll pay your expenses, just make sure you don’t come back until you can tell me exactly where she is.”

Vince nodded warily, not liking it, but the things he’d heard about Condoloro made him hesitate to tell him where he could put his demands. “I’ll find her.”

“You’d better.”

After Condoloro left the office, the breath Vince had been holding left his chest like a balloon deflating. Subpoenas? Who did the man think he was fooling? You can’t serve subpoenas when the subject is out of the country. Vince didn’t know who Condoloro had sent to Toronto but he’d be willing to bet it wasn’t his lawyer. And he’d also lay money it wasn’t a subpoena he was going to serve. More like threats, or even a bullet. What had he gotten himself mixed up in?

Uneasy to the bone, he decided he’d find out where she was, and then take an extended vacation somewhere as far away from Chicago as he could until things settled down.

Sometimes being a PI really sucked. Especially when you got drawn into the sordid feuds between family members wrapped up in avarice and deceit.

On the surface, Adrian’s stepmother looked to be your typical second wife trying to cash in on her rich husband’s life insurance policies, but there was more to it than that. She’d actually made off with a fortune when her husband died, according to the scandal rags that is. How much of the stories were true was always anybody’s guess, but they were based in truth, even it the rest was usually highly exaggerated. At the time he’d felt some sympathy for Adrian, which had resulted in him taking the case.

Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

It was funny how things were never what they appeared to be in this business. Shrugging, he bellied up to the desk and started tapping keys on his laptop. He’d finish the job he started, and then steer clear of the whole mess.

***

WHEN THE ALARM CLOCKon her Fitbit buzzed into her wrist, Macy stretched and yawned, then swung her slim legs off the bed to do a few bedside stretches before getting all the way up. It was 5:30 a.m. and she had 30 minutes to shower and prepare for her day. This would be her first official breakfast preparation at Neamh and Lucerne was teaching her how to make Scottish porridge. Spraining her ankle had been a small setback in her employment here at Neamh, but it was finally behind her if her employer and Angus would just leave it alone. Were all men in Scotland as protective and arrogant as those two? Or were they just a throwback to the clans of old where men ruled everything, the women included?

Grumbling to herself she finished her stretches and headed for the shower. Angus Sangster was like a nagging toothache that came and went. First, he would be totally solicitous while teasing and joking with Mr. MacCandish, and the next time they met he’d be scowling at her and running off like his tail was on fire. Trying to put the aggravating male out of her mind, she turned on the shower and slipped in while it was hot.

The time at Neamh so far had been surprisingly pleasant. It was good exercise and now that her ankle was fully recovered, she was planning to up her routine to walks outside. At the age of 46 she felt like she was reasonably healthy, but she was adamant about staying physically active and strong. She also wanted to explore Inverness again, in more depth this time. So many things she wanted to see and do.

If she could just feel safe again.

In the kitchen, Macy poured herself a cup of tea and filled a thermos with hot coffee for Mr. MacCandish to take with him. Having been on light duty, she’d spent time getting to know the children and prepared a few meals here and there, but today was her first official full day on the job doing all three meals and she was looking forward to it.

“Good morning, Macy.”

The deep voice sounded behind her and Macy turned. “Good morning, Mr. MacCandish.” He was a big man, bigger than Angus, with broad shoulders and a commanding air that set well on his handsome features. With long wavy hair and beautiful sea-green eyes, his wife Lucerne was a beautiful girl. They were both attractive young people, and had been very kind to her.

“Darro.”

Macy felt the pink stealing into her cheeks. “It seems so informal,” she protested, trying not to shrink under his sudden stern gaze. “After all, you are my employer.”

He studied her. “If it makes ye more comfortable, then call me Mr. MacCandish. We are fairly informal here in the house though, so I hope ye will soon feel comfortable enough to do so. Would ye prefer me to address ye as Mrs. Kennedy?”

She shook her head. “No, no of course not. Macy is fine.”

“Still arguing over who to call what?” The teasing voice came from Lucerne as she breezed into the kitchen with a grin.

“Angus and I will be in for breakfast this morning, Macy,” Darro replied, dropping a kiss on Lucerne’s lips. “Not arguing, Lucerne,” he threw over his broad shoulder as he strode towards the back door hallway. “Macy will see things my way soon enough.”

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