CHAPTER 3
Chloe was a nervous wreck all through dinner.
It took everything in her to sit still, to pretend everything was great and she was having the time of her life.
Bruce didn’t seem to notice and for that she was grateful.
She managed to have the appropriate responses to his questions as they chatted through dinner.
As they left the restaurant, she tucked her hand in his elbow.
“I feel like an evening stroll,” she said glancing up at him. Hope curled in her chest.
“All right.”
They headed down the street, the lights of the early evening blinking on.
The walking tours were getting started as they strolled down High Street.
Chloe thought of the gold-embossed card in her pocket and kept an eye out for the shop.
Her gut told her it had to be on the Royal Mile and, like Evie, she had to listen to her gut.
Then she spied the small shop between a cigar merchant and a shop specializing in cashmere and lambswool. The name, Mystic Treasures, was in gold letters over the door. She had never noticed it there before and thought it was an odd place for a shop.
How was she going to get away from Bruce long enough to go into it?
“Are ye feeling well tonight, lass?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Though she knew it was a lie.
“Maybe I should take ye home. It’s been a long few days for ye.”
That sounded like a great idea to her. She nodded. “Yes, I think you should.”
As they headed back to his car, her mind raced with what to do once he dropped her off. She decided to return to the Royal Mile and go to the shop and hope it hadn’t closed for the day yet. It was a long shot, but she had to try.
“I have to stop for petrol on the way,” he said.
She nodded agreement, trying not to be annoyed about the delay as she got into the passenger seat. They headed back to her flat with the one stop on the way. He got out to fill the tank.
While he stood outside the car, she was overcome with emotion when she thought about Evie and getting back to that shop on the Royal Mile. As her eyes welled with tears, she popped open the glove box in search of a tissue and stopped cold.
The blue velvet bag was stuffed inside the small compartment.
The same blue velvet bag the police had retrieved from the ladies’ room with Evie’s handbag and shoes. She stared at it, dumbfounded, as she confirmed the theft.
She had left it on the table in her living room, but it had disappeared. Here it was in his glove box. Why would Bruce take the velvet bag from her table? There was no reasonable explanation she could think of for him to take it.
He finished filling the tank. Chloe slammed the glove box closed and dried her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. She placed her hands in her lap, trying to keep them from shaking, when he got back in the car and started the engine. He must have sensed something was off.
“Are ye all right? Ye look white as a ghost.”
She pasted on a bright smile. “I’m a bit tired. Like you said. It’s been a long few days.”
“Well, then, I best get ye home.”
When they arrived at her flat, she hopped out and hurried to the door, leaving him behind. Still, he followed. At the door, she turned to face him.
“Thank you for dinner. I appreciate it.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Good night.”
And then she pushed inside and closed the door before he managed to reply.
She flipped the lock, leaned against the door, and blew out a breath, her hands still shaking.
She stood there for a long moment, staring at her sister’s handbag on the table and wondering what had been in that blue velvet bag. Why would Bruce want it?
Chloe headed to her bedroom to change into her favorite jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved cable-knit sweater.
She pulled on her light jacket as the nights were chilly.
After swiping a brush through her long auburn hair, she headed for the door and paused there, staring at it.
Wondering if she had given Bruce enough time to drive away.
She checked her watch. It was nearing the time for him to be on stage at the pub. Confident he was long gone, she pulled open the door and stepped into the night.
***
When she arrived at the Royal Mile, she made her way through the street looking for the small shop she’d spied earlier that evening.
She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out the card, staring down at it in the light from a streetlamp.
The embossed letters shone in the lamplight, sparkling in a way she hadn’t noticed before.
Just when she was about ready to give up hope, she saw it nestled there between the two other stores she had seen earlier.
It seemed strangely out of place here, but she was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.
The name on the door—Mystic Treasures—was in the same shimmering gold letters as the business card in her hand.
The bell on the door signaled her arrival.
The moment she crossed the threshold, a strange pull pounded through her, as though she were meant to be there.
She stood a moment in the doorway, taking in the small store crammed full of antiques with everything from trinkets to furniture. A sense of calm washed over her.
“Hello, there,” a woman called with a bright smile as she approached. “I was about to close for the night but something told me I should wait.”
Chloe stuck the card back into her pocket. “I can come back tomorrow.”
The woman halted in front of her. She was striking with long pale hair and bright-blue eyes that sparkled in the light of the shop. When she smiled, it showed off her dimple. Her name tag read Moira. Like on the business card.
“Nonsense,” the woman said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
That gave Chloe pause as she remained rooted in place at the door.
What did that mean? Cold pinpricks danced up her spine and pooled at the base of her neck.
But it wasn’t alarm she felt. No. It was more like…
anticipation. Like she was about to get all the answers she needed to find her missing sister.
“If this is a bad time…” Chloe began.
“Not at all.” She smiled at her, a warm, congenial smile that was meant to put her at ease. “You’re the last customer of the evening. I’ll let you have a look around.”
She disappeared through the maze of clutter, leaving her standing there with unanswered questions. What did she mean she’d been waiting for her?
Chloe moved deeper into the small shop, the musty smell of antiques wafting to her nose. In all the time she had been in Edinburgh, and all the time she’d spent on the Royal Mile, she had never seen the shop before.
“Have you been here long?” she called.
“Not long,” the woman answered. “As long as I need to be.”
Chloe’s brows drew together. She didn’t understand what that meant either.
“Have a look around,” Moira said. “I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll want, Miss Sinclair.”
Gooseflesh erupted on her arms underneath her sweater as she stared at the woman who busied herself dusting a shelf of knick-knacks. How did she know her name? She hadn’t told her.
“I don’t…how did you…”
“Och, I know you have questions. They’ll be answered in time.” She paused her dusting to meet her gaze. “But first, look around.”
There was an oddity about the shop and the woman proprietor. Chloe almost turned and dashed for the door until she heard a faint humming. She turned to look around for it, tipping her head to one side and listening.
Chloe stepped deeper into the shop as the humming increased as though there were a force pulling her toward it.
Normally, she didn’t believe in all-powerful things, but there was something about the thrumming of the sound, drawing her closer and closer, until she stood in front of a glass case with all sorts of trinkets inside.
There were small items with Celtic symbols on them.
A mother-of-pearl necklace. A Celtic cross.
Intricate knotwork that wove through what appeared to be an old faded bookmark.
A silver circular brooch adorned with Celtic knotwork and two amber stones on either side of it.
She caught herself staring at the brooch for a long moment, admiring it. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry.
But then another item in particular caught her attention.
It was a small, odd-shaped stone with faded lines across it.
The stone looked at though it were part of a bigger piece.
As if it had been broken or split in two.
She was certain she had heard the humming coming from behind the glass from that stone and pressed her hand against it, confident she’d feel the vibration. She didn’t.
Her heart drummed hard against her chest. Her pulse quickened. A vision flashed through her mind of a castle against the inky backdrop of night and a tall man with a thick beard, long hair plaited on either side of his face, and eyes like the sea after a storm.
She dropped her hand from the case and stepped back, her heart in her throat.
“Ah, I see you’ve found it. Or, rather, it found you.”
Moira was at her side, which made Chloe jump. She hadn’t heard the woman approach.
“Found what?” Her voice was a rough whisper.
Smiling, Moira opened the case and picked up the strange little stone. She held it out to her. Chloe stared at it, her hands clenching into tight fists. The impulsive side of her wanted to take it. The logical side of her told her not to.
“You’ll be wanting this, lass,” the woman said.
“What is it?”
“Your future and your past.”
Chloe’s head snapped up and she met the woman’s starry-eyed gaze. That didn’t make sense to her at all.
“I don’t understand.”
“It calls to you, doesn’t it?” Moira asked, a pleasant expression on her face.
Chloe managed to nod, her hands loosening at her sides. Her fingers twitched with the sudden need to take the stone from the woman’s palm.
“How does it…why does it do that?”
“It senses you and knows who you are.”
Finally, Chloe reached for the stone, plucking it from the woman’s palm and holding it in her own. The lines were faded to almost nothing but she was able to discern that they were once engraved. There was an arch with another line going through it.
Chloe was familiar enough with the Celtic symbols to imagine what it was—part of a triquetra with a circle going through.
An ancient symbol of the trinity knot that meant different things.
Such as the three stages of life—youth, adulthood, old age.
Perhaps that’s what Moira meant when she had said it was her future and her past.
But the symbol also had ties to the Maiden, Mother, Crone, symbolizing generations. Her gaze flickered back up to the woman. When she had said her future and her past, was she referring to Evie? Or something else?
“It looks like it’s part of something bigger,” Chloe said.
Moira merely nodded. “It is. And it’s yours.”
“Oh, I—”
“I must insist.” She waved for her to follow toward the back of the shop.
Chloe stood there for a long moment, watching her walk away, dumbfounded and unsure if she should follow. She stared at her back, the way her long silvery hair fell in soft waves. She closed her hand around the stone and headed for the shopkeeper.
Moira stood behind the cash register waiting for her.
As Chloe approached, she noticed a picture of a castle on the wall behind her.
She gave it a quick glance, then looked back up at it.
It sat on a craggy hill. Its high towers were shrouded in mist. Behind it, a placid loch under an overcast sky.
A sense of familiarity flickered through her as she looked at it, as though she had been there before.
In her short time in Scotland, she hadn’t had time to explore castles.
“That castle…”
“Dundale,” the woman replied. “You’ll see it soon enough.”
Chloe blinked in confusion as she looked at the woman. “Isn’t Dundale on the Isle of Skye?”
“Aye, it is. Once the seat of Clan MacLeod,” she agreed and held her hand out to her. “Let me package that for you.”
The eerie feeling did not leave her as she dropped the stone into the woman’s hand. She rustled about under the counter.
“How much?” Chloe asked.
“Free of charge.”
When Moira handed her back the stone, it was inside a blue velvet bag.