Page 20 of Highlander's Escaped Prisoner
Andrew stared at her for so long that Nessa thought he had gone into a trance, then abruptly, he shook himself out of it. “I would never have recognized you!” he said heavily to Bryce. “But you should not be in jail. I know you are not the culprit.”
“How do you know?” Bryce asked, frowning. “If you have information that could help me, I need to hear it, Master Henderson. My life may depend on it.”
“Whoever it is, is walking around free,” Nessa pointed out. “And could kill someone else.”
Andrew leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I do not know, but I have my suspicions, though I have no proof. After Gerald’s death, I was heartbroken, as you know, Nessa,” Andrew began. He paused to take a sip of wine and to draw in a deep breath. “I was not convinced of Bryce’s guilt, but everyone seemed determined to convict him because blood was found on his horse’s hooves. I always thought that he would have to have been a very stupid killer to leave such an obvious piece of damning evidence. After all, it would have been the work of a fewmoments to clean the animal’s feet.
“The Blairs and the Guthries had only come together for a few days to parley, as you know, so it was an obvious time to strike. But Bryce, I know that you are not a stupid man, and I know you did not do this.”
“And who do you think did?” Nessa asked. She was as tense as a bowstring, and Bryce could feel her trembling as she sat beside him.
Andrew took a deep breath. “Nessa, this is not going to be easy for you to hear,” he said gently. “My sources tell me that one of the main suspects in your uncle’s murder is your father.”
Nessa was frozen with shock for a moment, then she hurtled across the room and screamed as she began to pummel the older man with her fists. Anger had lent her strength, and Andrew could do nothing more than curl himself up into a ball and wait for her to weaken.
Bryce was stronger than both of them. “Nessa!” he cried as he grasped her upper arms and hauled her backward. “Calm down! It is not his fault.” He kept a firm grip on Nessa’s arms as she struggled against him, but she was no match for the power of Bryce’s hands, and eventually, she gave up.
“I do not understand.” Bryce was baffled. “Why would Nessa's father want to kill his own brother?”
“Because they thought he was a weak laird,” Andrew answered, “and your father wanted the lairdship in his place because he thought he could do a better job. I am sorry, Nessa, but that is the truth.”
“It is not!” she hissed, her hands clenched into fists. “You are a stinking liar, Andrew Henderson! Others might have wanted to kill my uncle—as lairds have many enemies—but Gerald was the dearest of my father’s brothers, and the man that I know as my father would never have harmed a hair on his head!”
Then she turned and ran outside, leaving Bryce to glare at Andrew Henderson. “Who are your sources?” he demanded.
“I cannot tell you, or my life will be in danger,” Andrew replied fearfully.
Bryce stood over him threateningly so that his massive shadow fell over the old man. “I have done seven years of prison that I did not deserve.” His voice was low and throbbing with menace. “And I have never killed a man in my life. But if I find out who the killer of Gerald Guthrie was, I may just be tempted to commit my first murder. So if you have anything to do with it, old man, beware.”
Then, with one venomous glance behind him, he stormed out, leaving Andrew Henderson to lock and bolt the door behind him.
12
Logan rode into Wallaceneuk early the next morning. It was Saturday, and a market had been set up in the main street, which made his task much harder. Farmers from all around the area had come to sell their produce, and other merchants had come inland from a huge ship that had just docked in Oban. Now there were four times as many people there as usual, and every one of them had to be asked if they had seen Nessa.
However, if he could find just one person who had seen her, it would give him a start, and after that, he was sure that he could follow the trail and find his quarry. He was, after all, one of the best trackers he knew, although Bryce Blair was better, as he was at everything. Bitterness soured his stomach as he thought of his loathsome nemesis. How he hated him!
He began at the first trader he could see, a woman selling woolen and linen cloth. “How can I help ye, sir?” she asked politely as she took in his finely tailored clothes.
Logan could almost read her mind as she counted up how much money she could make from him. “I need three yards of this purple cloth,” he replied, rubbing the woolen fabric between his fingers to feel its texture. “It is a present for my sweetheart, and purple is her favorite color.”
The woman smiled. “She has good taste, sir. ’Tis mine too, an’ pink. There is a fine coral pink linen over there.”
Logan sighed inwardly, realizing that he was not going to get away without buying up half the produce at the market. He bought a yard of pink linen, then asked about Bryce and Nessa. She thought for a moment.
“No, sir,” she said at last. “I havenae seen anybody like that. I am sorry.” Her customers were equally hopeless, although most of the young women flirted with him shamelessly. It promised to be a long day.
After inquiring from around twenty people, Logan was ready to give up. He had bought cloth, cheese, sausages, a knife, and a set of clay bowls and was no nearer to discovering where Nessa was. However, there was still one more merchant to ask.
She was standing behind a rough table skinning rabbits and chatting to a small, wizened man whose dog began to growl at Logan as soon as he saw him. The woman, small, plump, and in her middle years, gave Logan a wide smile and a wink.
“We dinnae see such handsome gentlemen like you round these parts very often, sir,” she remarked. “I have some good eatin’ for ye here if ye are after a nice fat rabbit for roastin’, or maybe a fine fur muff for yer lady.” She gazed at him expectantly.
“I will take a brace, thank you.” Logan smiled as he handed his pennies over and received two large rabbits in return. “Iwondered if you could help me with another matter, though. I am looking for someone, a lady, and she may have a man with her. He is a big man, and they are both riding on a coal-black horse with a white star on its forehead. Have you seen them?”
The woman shook her head. “No, sir, but maybe ye could try the church. Father Donald nearly always knows what is goin’ on.”
The church! Why had he not thought of it before? Logan added a few more pennies into her hand for the information. “Thank you!” he said gratefully and hurried away, leaving a very delighted meat merchant behind him. He had spent a fortune, but it would all be worth it when Bryce Blair was back where he belonged—behind bars. Then Nessa would come back to him, and he would waste no time in making her his wife.
