Page 53 of Hold a Candle

Chapter 13

The squalid warehouseon the riverfront stank of old fish waste and damp wood. The leaks in the rotted areas of the ceiling had left permanent water and teakwood stains on the concrete where the water seeped through and dripped incessantly.

Lifting his booted foot in distaste, Brodie stepped around a puddle and made his way to the office area inside the unused warehouse that had been left to Mother Nature’s mercy. Why Florence wanted to meet in this rickety old building he couldn’t imagine, but as Leonard Searcy, he had responded to her text meeting. Ditching her new partner wasn’t always easy and she had information on Kelpie.

Florence was well aware of his undercover alias, one of the few people who did. As he moved quietly in the dimly lit recesses of the building, a sense of disquiet rested heavily on his senses, a disquiet he had felt before when he was in danger. Trying to shake off his uneasiness, he kept in the shadows, his body on high alert.

When the irritating screech of an alley cat suddenly screamed behind him, he whirled around and cursed as adrenalin ran through him when the sudden fight or flight response kicked in. Then he shook his head in disgust, his heart still thrumming like a train engine as the mangy-looking orange tabby disappeared into the shadows. This case was really getting to him. He couldn’t wait for it to finally be over. Then he could get the rewards he had coming to him.

Having his own precinct would make all the misery he’d been through since he’d met Pauley MacBride worthwhile. If he played his cards right, he’d be her boss. Then he could savor his victory over her and make her life miserable for as long as she stayed in the police force, or even beyond if she quit. No, he wasn’t through with her yet, not by a long shot.

Turning back around, he heard the gunshot just as it ripped into his upper chest on his right side, sending him spinning around and falling towards the floor in shock. The fiery pain was agonizing and his glimpse of the dark figure with the hood over his head didn’t even tell him who shot him. His fingers scrabbled in his pocket for the 999-auto button on his cell as the dim-lit surroundings were slowly eaten up by darkness. His last thought wasn’t his life flashing images through his brain like people said they experienced when they thought they were going to die. No, Brodie’s last thoughts were that this dirty warehouse floor was a disgusting place for life to end.

The figure in black stood over Brodie and kicked his limp body. The blood pooling quickly beneath the man’s shoulder told him it was a critical shot. He couldn’t stand Brodie Macalister aka Leonard Searcy, and icing the maniacal blowhard was a treat, not a chore. He turned away in satisfaction. No need to waste another bullet, no one would be finding this body for a while. Let him die as slow as possible.

Kelpie wanted Luca MacBride attacked tonight, or killed would be better, to keep the police off the scent of the bigger picture. A little harder since Neamh appeared to be well guarded, but not impossible. As long as Belton remembered what he was supposed to do, it should go easily enough. A little blackmail went a long way in Belton’s case. If the kids got hurt in the process, he got paid either way.

He glanced at his watch. A little after 4:00 in the afternoon. The donut eating contest at the festival should be over by now, and Angus Sangster would be heading back to Neamh with his unknown stowaway in the back of his truck.

Grinning wolfishly, he whistled his way towards Brodie’s Kawasaki parked behind the warehouse. Too bad he hadn’t driven the Ducati, that was a sweet machine, but this bike should get him into Kelly Woods easily enough to oversee this evening’s fun. If all went well, and he was sure it would, he would be a much richer man by morning. And the blame could be laid at Brodie’s feet. Cripes, that prick had thought himself so high and mighty. A sneer of satisfaction curled his lips as he sped towards High Meadows Road. It would all be over soon.

***

JAMIE SNIFFED THE AIRappreciatively as he walked into Lucerne’s kitchen where pans of covered scones were cooling on the table. “Smells delicious, lass. Fresh scones I see. What else have ye got going this year?”

He walked up to his daughter and placed a kiss on her flushed cheek. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bow and her apron covered the white mound of her tummy. He patted the mound with a chuckle. “Ye’ll be out of there soon, laddie. Be good to yer mother while ye are waiting.”

“I’m doing three soups tonight,” she replied to his question, smiling at his words towards his grandchild. “The babe might be a lassie, ye know,” she mocked.

“Very doubtful according to Doc,” Jamie replied, his eyes twinkling. “He’s too big to be a girl.”

“Are ye saying I’m getting fat?”

Jamie grinned. “Nay, lass. Everything but my grandson is the size it’s always been, it’s just his pouch that has grown out at an amazing rate.”

Lucerne laughed. “I can agree with that.”

“So what soups are ye making?” he asked with interest, sneaking a scone from beneath the thin towel covering over one pan.

“Traditional American chili made with beef, Smoked Haddock soup, and Scottish traditional Hairst Bree with lamb and plenty of veggies.” She waved her hand at the scone he was taking a bite of. “And of course, plenty of fresh hot baps and scones with honey and butter to go with them.”

“Can’t wait,” he enthused, lifting the lid on the chili pot. “I’ve developed a taste for this chili through the years. Yer mother loved it.”

Her eyes softened. “Aye, I remember. Where’s Pauley?”

“She and Delilah are with Dal and Darro in the corral. She’s trying to gentle Sunshine towards the men. I thought it might be easier for Sunshine if I made myself scarce since the horse doesn’t know me at all.”

“Are ye doing okay, Dad?” she asked gently, her eyes searching his face.

Jamie shifted uncomfortably. “Ye know me, lass. I won’t be celebrating the day of the dead with open doors tonight. Plus, Pauley’s been on edge all day. She can’t explain why, she just says she feels like something bad is coming. She’s been as jumpy as a cat.”

“This whole thing with Luca doesn’t help either,” Lucerne added, nodding with sympathy.

When the dogs set up a high-pitched barking commotion outside, Jamie cocked his head to listen. “That sounds like an awfully excited bark for those two,” he said, heading towards the front door.

“I’ll say.” Lucerne turned the burner off under the bubbling chili and waddled after her dad.

Outside, Bo and Misty were barking furiously and jumping against the tail gate of Angus’s truck.

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