Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
UNSLEEPING WATCH
Wasp
Using my brother’s credit card for money, we returned to New York. Taylor gripped my hand the whole way, and I’d never felt so useless in my entire life. All I could do was get her to where she needed to go.
At Charity’s care home, we were met by a red-eyed Stefan at the doors.
“God, no!” Taylor howled. “Don’t say it’s too late. Don’t you dare!”
The man took a deep breath. “She’s still with us. I think she’s waiting for you.”
Taylor made a noise of distress and dove inside the building, stumbling to her aunt’s side. I palmed Stefan’s shoulder in silent thanks then strode after her.
Outside Charity’s darkened room, patients waited, sad faces on all. Inside, her nurse stood at her bedside while another woman adjusted a machine.
With her bed laid flat, the light had gone from Taylor’s aunt.
Taylor paused at the door. “I didn’t expect this,” she whispered into the heavy air. “I thought she’d get better.”
All I could do was hug her.
Together, we sat at the woman’s bedside.
Overnight, under her beloved niece’s unsleeping watch, Charity passed away.
Six days later, on a blowy but sunny morning, my brother and his wife arrived at the care home. Dressed in a black suit I figured he’d bought for the occasion, Gordain pulled me into a hug. At my side, Ella wrapped Taylor into her arms.
Her sobs broke my heart.
“The cars are outside.” Gordain eyed me then mouthed, “Hearse, too.”
I lifted my chin in acknowledgement. We’d stayed in a guest room at the care home for days, making arrangements to lay Charity to rest. Taylor had faced the press whose interest had been piqued, and she’d deflected questions on her father, keeping herself together despite her world falling apart.
She’d whispered to me that it felt like she’d made this happen.
Trading one life for another, as crazy as that sounded.
She’d cried, and I’d held her, and my eyes had leaked, too.
I’d hated fate for fucking her over. But last night, we’d read sections of Charity’s diary and, for the first time in a week, she hadn’t cried herself to sleep.
I knew she had the strength to get through this.
“We need to go, love,” I told her gently.
Taylor straightened up and composed herself, drying her eyes.
With her hand gripping mine, she led the way to the waiting transport. The care home staff turned out in force, their minibus bringing up the rear. On convoy, we drove to the cemetery on a low hillside above the sea.
After meeting in the little chapel, the minister brought the mourners to attention and led us to the grave site.
There, Taylor’s father waited, a minder wearing dark glasses on one side of him and another person, lawyerly-looking in a sharp suit on the other.
“Oh my goodness. He came? How could he!” Ella snapped her hand to her mouth.
“It’s for the press,” Taylor replied, clipped. “We expected this. If you can, ignore him. I intend to. For now, anyway. We’re here for her.”
Turning a blind eye to the man, we listened to the eulogy. Taylor’s eyes shone when the minister recounted Charity’s happy life before her illness, and she took to the stand to read an excerpt from her aunt’s diary.
“June fifth sum up. In the past two weeks, I’ve driven an open-top sports car with my niece, drank wine with and then kissed a hot Greek waiter despite neither of us being able to speak a single word of the other’s language.
I took a chair lift up then down a mountainside, and tomorrow, I start all over again.
” Taylor closed the book and swung her gaze over the audience.
“As you can see, my aunt loved travelling, but she also loved good company and home comforts. Despite living in a care home for several years, she’d become beloved to so many.
Her filthy sense of humour scandalised some and pleased others.
I wish I’d had more time with her; I wanted her to get to know William, my fiancé, better, but some lives are short, and they blaze and burn out before their time. ”
She faced the white coffin on its green cushion. “I can’t tell you how much I’ll miss you. But you should know that I learned from you how to be happy and make the most of my life. How to love hard and be a good person. I’ll follow your footsteps and I’ll never forget you.”
Her voice cracked and, around the grave, people wiped their eyes or openly sobbed.
Taylor approached the coffin and lay her hand on it. “I love you,” she whispered.
Then she was back in my arms, her muscles tight with holding herself up. I took her weight. I always would.
Others spoke. The minister concluded the service. Then the coffin was lowered. We each threw a flower into the grave, then the funeral was over.
People left, but Taylor and I stayed on the hillside.
Her father and his minions did, too.
At my side, Taylor’s hackles rose. “Don’t judge me for what I’m about to do.”
“Never,” I growled. “Make it good.”
“I intend to.” She marched across the grass, not taking her eyes off him for a second.
“Irene,” her father started.
“It’s Taylor,” she snapped. “The cameras have gone, so let’s make this brief. You saw what happened today? How many people showed up here?”
He cocked his head to one side as if curious.
“This is what happens when you’re loved.
You die surrounded by those who care about you.
You are laid to rest and mourned. Charity might be gone, but we’ll all remember her.
Now? We’re going home. I never want to see or hear from you again.
Whatever happens to you.” Her eyes sparkled with her speech, and her meaning was clear.
She wouldn’t be there for him. As far as she was concerned, he was going to die alone.
“Wait.” He took a step.
I was in front of Taylor and glaring at him before he blinked. Then his minder was in my face. I stared right past the man, straight into her father’s eyes.
“Stop.” Taylor slipped under my arm and pressed her hands to my chest. “He isn’t worth it. Whatever he tries to do to us, we’re better than him.”
I let her push me away—it wasn’t as if I’d fight the man, but my blood was up all the same. With our backs turned, we left the grave and her father behind.
A rapid discussion followed, then someone hustled after us, their clothes swishing. I glanced back. It was the lawyerly-looking woman.
“Miss Vandenberg?” The woman hurried, rounding us.
We stopped.
“On behalf of your father, and your aunt, I need to talk to you.” She peered at us over her glasses. Behind her, the governor watched but didn’t approach.
“I think I made myself perfectly clear when it comes to my father. I don’t want to hear—”
“For your aunt’s sake, you should.” The lawyer took a sheaf of papers from a folder in her satchel. “It’s regarding Charity’s will. Give me five minutes. Believe me, you’ll want to hear this.”
Taylor’s eyes narrowed, but she gave a short nod. “Fine. We’ll go into the chapel.”
I gazed at her in silent question to see if she needed me there, but she shook her head then strode away, the woman at her heels.
Gordain met me halfway back to the car. “We’re keeping watch on him, aye?” He indicated to Taylor’s father, a mean expression on his face.
God, I loved my family.
“That’s the one.” We stood shoulder to shoulder, our arms folded, keeping Taylor safe.
The governor crossed the cemetery and returned to his car, sparing more than one glance for me. The driver who opened and closed the door for him wasn’t Terence. Poor guy if he’d lost his job.
After a minute, the minder, with his sunglasses still firmly in place, exited the car and moved in on us. “Governor Vandenberg asked me to pass on a message.”
“What are ye, an answering machine?” Gordain said with a scowl, and I grinned at him.
“He would like it known that he regrets his previous offer to you and wants to make it clear that his words at the time—”
“His threats,” I helpfully clarified.
“His words at the time will not be acted on.”
In the past week and a half, I’d heard nothing from Reportage One. But my focus had been on Taylor, so I hadn’t chased it up. But I’d figured they’d been scared off from hiring me.
“I’m not going to talk to her on his behalf.”
The minder shrugged. “I think he knows that.” Then the big man walked away.
“What was his threat?” Gordain asked.
“He told Taylor he’d destroy my career. On that note…” I found my phone and placed a call to the agency.
“Reportage One, Claire speaking.”
“It’s Wasp McRae—” I started.
“Wasp, ah, I’ve been meaning to call you but I was waiting on a confirmation message.
Firstly, I’ll be forwarding you details of a new job.
Closer to home this time. Four days covering a conference in Edinburgh.
Now, there is a band performing on the final evening for the attendees, so fair warning not to hit anyone this time. ” She laughed at herself.
I blinked hard. “Did you talk to Rex?”
“Uh-huh. A couple of times since your family emergency. Oh, is everything all right?” she added rapidly, like she didn’t really care and was only just remembering to ask.
Rex had called her. What the hell?
“We’re good now.” I wasn’t about to explain the details. “What happened with the tour?”
“We sent a replacement. It’s all been taken care of.”
I clamped down on the next question, because it was obvious I still had a job. The governor had done what he’d said.
“Send the details. I’ll be there,” I said then, after Claire hung up, I fist-pumped the air. “I still have work!”
I shook my head in disbelief and resisted the urge to celebrate further. This wasn’t the time or the place, but still, a huge weight lifted from me. I needed this, the ability to care for my own family in a career I loved.
Just like that, it had been restored.
Gordain’s careful gaze settled on the car. “He’s sick, and he regrets it, I’d say. His sister dying might’ve been the reality check he needed.”
I pulled a face. “I’m not sure I even care. I’m considering myself lucky now.” And I couldn’t wait to tell Taylor.
But when she emerged from the chapel, shaking hands with the lawyer before returning to me, something haunted her. She stared after her father’s car as they drove away.
“See ye at the airport for the flight home, aye?” Gordain murmured then left us.
I brought Taylor under my arm then guided her to our car. We needed to go back to the care home, change, then get onto a plane. “Talk to me.”
“I’m so mad I can barely breathe.” She drew a shuddering breath despite her words, then climbed into the back seat.
The driver took us out of the cemetery and onto the wide road.
I waited on Taylor’s words. She didn’t take long.
“I’ve been left money.” Her wide-eyed gaze sought mine. “A huge sum. Charity inherited money from my grandfather when he died. She’s given it all to me.”
She named a figure, and I choked on air.
Then Taylor gave an outraged howl. “He knew! All that time, Dad knew she could afford to pay for her own care. And he still used me.
“Why would he keep paying when she had money?”
“Maybe because my grandfather made him? Or maybe just for his reputation? All bases covered, no skeletons in his closet. But to use that against your own daughter? Ella said I should tell her what was going on, but I couldn’t. It was all for nothing. I can’t even start to process that.”
“Not for nothing. We wouldnae be together now.”
She blinked at me. A laugh broke from her throat. “True. Then I don’t know if I’m the least fortunate or the luckiest woman around. I lived a nothing life but now I have everything.”
“Nope, I’m the one who has everything. Come here.” I pulled her in for a single, chaste kiss.
“We can buy furniture!” Taylor squeaked. “You don’t have to worry about finding work urgently.”
“I don’t, but for another reason.”
I filled her in on my news, and we got back to the home then were away to the airport. In our bags, we had items from Charity’s room—pictures, a few souvenirs—that would have pride of place in the crofthouse, and we returned to the Highlands far stronger than when we’d left.
“This past week has been the worst.” Taylor snuggled closer, and the aircraft descended, circling Inverness. “One thing it taught me was to live life to the fullest. I will never keep a secret from you. I will never lie to you.”
“Ye ken, it sounds like you’re making vows.” I grinned at her.
“Still waiting on that proposal, huh?”
A ripple of pleasure ran through me, potent and consuming. We considered ourselves engaged, but I kept up the tease. “Aye. I am. It’s up to you to do it right.”
Taylor smiled a secret smile and tucked her head down.
I’d wait until the ends of the earth, but that I guessed she already knew.