Chapter 13 Theodore #2
I watched Rory’s anxiety building—his shoulders tensing, the slight bounce in his stance. Before he could annoy the hell out of Felix, I gently took his arm.
“Let Felix focus,” I said softly.
Rory’s head snapped toward me, eyes wide with surprise. I tensed, preparing for him to pull away or snap at me for presuming to tell him what to do. But instead, he nodded, the fight draining from him as he allowed me to guide him away.
Priya’s eyes keenly followed us as I led Rory to the tiny kitchen tucked into the corner of the cottage. There never was getting much past her.
I filled a glass with water from the tap and handed it to him. He leaned against the counter, taking small sips, his eyes fixed on some invisible point beyond the window. His ears looked bizarrely bare without his array of hoops and studs in. I missed them.
For several horribly long moments, neither of us spoke.
“How’s your shoulder?” I finally asked, desperate to break the silence.
“Honestly, it’s fine.”
The awkward silence resumed, stretching thin between us. I searched for something else to say, anything to dispel the strange tension, but my mind remained stubbornly blank.
Rory shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his thoughts leaking into my mind, clear as a bell:
…oh my god, why is this so awkward, I’m dying…
I took a deep breath and made the executive decision to do the most British thing possible in a crisis—make tea.
I opened cupboards until I found mugs, and filled the kettle, grateful for the mundane task to occupy my hands while my mind raced. The cottage kitchen was barely large enough for one person, let alone two, but Rory lingered, leaning against the counter beside me.
I needed to say something—anything—to dispel the awkwardness, but the right words wouldn’t come to me.
The kettle clicked off. I busied myself with teabags, buying time as I arranged my thoughts. I reached for the sugar, spooning out a generous amount for Felix’s mug.
Suddenly, Rory’s hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist and stopping me mid-motion. “That’s the salt, you numpty,” he said, his fingers warm against my skin.
I blinked down at the white granules. “So it is.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “But… numpty? Really?”
A tiny chuckle escaped me, and then Rory snorted, and somehow that broke the dam. We both dissolved into laughter—the kind of uncontrollable, slightly hysterical laughter that only comes after unbearable tension.
“You clearly didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Rory managed between gasps.
“And whose fault is that?” I countered.
Rory leaned in close, his face inches from mine. “Yours, if I remember rightly, Detective,” he said, voice low and teasing. My pulse quickened as his gaze dropped briefly to my lips. “I’m glad to see Priya and Felix,” he murmured, “but I really wish they’d arrived just a few hours later.”
“Me too,” I whispered back, surprising myself with my honesty.
“What the fuck are you two conspiring about?” Priya shouted from the living room. “Get back in here!”
After locating the actual sugar, we carried the four mugs into the living room. As I handed Priya her tea, she gave me an annoying smirk.
“Who knew a couple’s retreat in Scotland would be the thing to make you two bury the hatchet?”
Rory scoffed. “Are you joking? We hate each other more than ever. Maxwell won’t stop lying about me snoring.”
Priya’s eyes widened. “You’re sleeping in the same bed?!”
“There’s only one bed, Priya! Only one bed!”
“Umm, guys?” Felix’s uncertain voice cut through. “Dev’s phone location? You know, the thing you were so excited about two minutes ago?”
Rory’s head snapped around. “Right! Yes! Sorry, Felix.” He practically bounded back to Felix’s armchair. I followed, grateful for the timely interruption.
“So,” Felix began, fingers still tapping away.
“This time I managed to triangulate the signal much more precisely using a modified cell tower spoofing technique.” He glanced up briefly, catching our blank expressions.
“Um, basically I tricked the phone into connecting to my virtual network instead of the actual towers.”
Priya leaned over his shoulder. “And?”
“And…” Felix turned his laptop around, displaying a topographical map with a small red dot pulsing in what appeared to be wilderness. “I’ve got it narrowed down to within fifty meters!”
“That’s… in the middle of nowhere,” I observed, squinting at the screen.
Felix nodded. “It’s about seven miles northeast of here, deep in the Glenmoriston forest. There’s no road access—at least none that shows up on any maps.”
Rory leaned over. “That’s not pack land. And you’re correct. No roads around there. I know the area, though.”
“How long would it take to get there?” Priya asked.
“By foot?” Rory said. “Three, maybe four hours. The terrain is pretty rough—lots of elevation changes, dense forest. And we’ll need to cross one of the tributaries of the Moriston—not the main river itself, but a smaller stream that feeds into it.
Luckily we won’t have to climb any mountains, per se. ”
“There’s no way we can drive?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“No,” Felix confirmed, fiddling with the map. “Besides, even if we tried off-roading with quad bikes or something, the vehicle signatures would definitely be picked up by anyone monitoring the area. Walking is the best option.”
“Then we walk,” Rory said. “The challenge will be smuggling you two out of here. We’ll have to creep the long way back to the manor house, off the main path.
Then Maxwell and I will bring our car to the edge of the gravel.
You guys can jump in, hopefully undetected by the cameras, and then we’ll drive through the gate, and find somewhere to park the car.
” He marched with confident strides toward the stairs, as if lit with renewed purpose.
“Wait,” said Felix. “Just to be clear, Dev’s phone only connected for a few minutes this time. And…” He hesitated. “It didn’t make any calls or send any messages. It just… connected.”
“What are you saying?” asked Rory, blinking at him.
“You know what he’s saying, Rory,” said Priya. “He’s trying to manage your expectations.”
A sudden, visceral image slammed into my mind with such force that I nearly dropped my mug.
Dev’s body sprawled in a forest clearing, limbs at unnatural angles. Blood matting his dark hair. Eyes open, vacant, staring at nothing. The rich smell of decomposition mingling with pine.
The image wasn’t mine. It had burst from Rory’s mind with such intensity that my defenses crumbled. I staggered slightly, gripping the back of the armchair to steady myself.
“Maxwell?” Priya’s voice sounded distant. “Are you alright?”
I blinked, forcing the horrific image away. Rory stood frozen, his face drained of colour, hands trembling slightly.
Our eyes met. He knew I’d seen it.
“I’ll… go get dressed,” he said, voice unnaturally calm. “Everyone, be ready to leave in fifteen minutes.”
Without waiting for a response, he disappeared up the stairs, footsteps quick and deliberate.
Felix and Priya exchanged glances.
“Well,” Priya said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Look at Mr. Organised, ordering us around. Has Maxwell been rubbing off on him?”
I half choked on the last sip of my tea, the words twisting themselves into an innuendo.
“You okay there, Detective?” Priya asked, eyebrow raised.
“Fine,” I managed, setting down my mug. “Just… went down the wrong way.”
She pinned me with her gaze.
God help me if she ever found out exactly how Rory had been rubbing off on me.
Killigrew Street meetings would never be the same again.
The Highland wilderness stretched before us in all its rugged glory—a panorama of heather-covered slopes, ancient pines, and rocky outcrops.
In the distance, a mountain peak loomed against the slate-grey sky, its summit lost in wisps of cloud.
If I’d been here on a hiking trip, I’d have appreciated its beauty more.
My shirt clung to my back, sweat trickling down my spine despite the cool air.
Rory, in a ridiculously bright tie-dye T-shirt that rather distractingly clung to his frame like a second skin, had set a brutal pace from the moment we’d left the cottage.
The short sleeves left his arms bare as he moved with determined strides, as if he could outrun his own dark thoughts by sheer physical exertion.
I’d fallen back with Felix, who held a tablet connected to a satellite transceiver to help keep us on track.
“You could put that away, you know,” I suggested, wincing as he nearly tripped over an exposed root.
“Can’t,” he muttered, not looking up. “Just in case Dev’s phone pings again. You never know.”
Ahead, Rory gesticulated wildly as he spoke to Priya. My stomach tightened. What was he telling her? Just how busy we were last night? I couldn’t imagine Rory keeping anything from her.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Seb, perhaps, responding to my earlier updates?
I pulled it out, surprised to see Kit’s name instead.
Kit
Just got to Killigrew Street to find out that Priya and Felix have gone to Scotland. I don’t know how on earth Priya convinced Seb it was a good idea, because I wasn’t there last night when it got decided. But it isn’t safe, especially for Felix. They need to come home.
Rory’s already on their case. In the meantime, we’ll look after them. Don’t worry about Felix. He’s in his element.
I quickly snapped a picture of Felix, who was now squinting at his tablet in the sunlight, lower lip caught between his teeth in concentration.
Felix looked up. “What was that for?”
I hit send.
“For someone who’s missing you.”
Confusion clouded his expression. “What?”
I pretended to concentrate on avoiding thorny brambles, and my phone soon buzzed again.
Thank you. Can you tell Rory to call me back? I’ve left him about twelve voicemails. Priya said Callum attacked him?
He hasn’t had much time to call you since that happened, to be fair. We’ve been busy. I promise that he’s okay.