Chapter 3
Mia
The bus lurched to a stop, jolting me from a fitful sleep. Confused, as the other passengers began gathering their belongings, I blinked and glanced out the window to see Union Station. We were in Toronto.
My heart began to race as I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed the crowd off the bus. The station was a bluster of noises - announcements blaring over the loudspeaker, luggage wheels scraping against concrete, voices calling out greetings and goodbyes. I scanned the sea of faces, searching for Wren’s familiar smile, but she was nowhere to be seen.
A man in a dark coat caught my eye. He was leaning against a pillar, his gaze scanning the crowd. My breath caught in my throat. Was it the same man from this morning? I couldn’t be sure, but I wasn’t about to stick around to find out.
I ducked my head and pushed through the crowd, my heart pounding in my ears. Where was Wren? I fumbled for the burner phone in my pocket. My fingers trembled as I tried to type out a message.
A hand grabbed my arm. I whirled around, ready to scream, only to find myself face-to-face with a smiling elderly woman.
“Excuse me, dear,”
she said, “could you help me with my bag?”
I exhaled sharply, forcing a smile as I helped her lift her suitcase. When I turned back, the man in the dark coat was gone. Had I imagined him?
Panic clawed at my throat as I stumbled out of the station into the chilly Toronto air. Cars whizzed by horns blaring. I spun in a circle, searching desperately for any sign of Wren.
That’s when I heard it - the screech of tires against asphalt. A sleek black Cadillac came to an abrupt halt in front of me, and I caught a glimpse of her worried face through the windshield.
Relief flooded through me as I yanked open the passenger door and practically dove inside. “Go!”
I gasped. “Get us out of here, now!”
Wren didn’t hesitate. She stomped on the gas pedal, and we peeled away from the curb, leaving the bus station and its potential dangers behind.
“Mia, what the hell is going on?”
Wren demanded, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
I slumped in my seat, my heart still racing. “I wish,”
I muttered, then took a deep breath. “It all started this morning. There was a knock on my door before dawn...”
As we weaved through Toronto traffic, I poured out the whole terrifying tale - the mysterious man, Mr. Baxter’s murder, my escape through the crawlspace. Wren’s eyes grew wider with each detail.
“Jesus Christ,”
she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. “And you’re sure this isn’t some kind of sick joke?”
I wished it was. “No joke. Mr. Baxter is dead, and whoever killed him is after me now.”
My voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do, Wren. I’m scared.”
Her jaw clenched as she made a sharp turn down a narrow side street. “First things first, we need to get you home, Declan will know what to do.”
As we wound our way through the city, I kept glancing between the side mirror and the one on my visor, half-expecting to see the black sedan tailing us. But the streets behind us remained clear and a thought occurred to me. “How did you know I was in Toronto?”
Wren glanced at me. “I tracked your bus on the app.”
Panic surged in my chest. “You don’t suppose that guy would have thought to do the same thing do you?”
Wren’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter. “What’s the odds?”
she asked. “It’s not like he knew where you were going.”
I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought. “You’re right. I’m just paranoid.”
She nodded grimly. “We’ll take the long way home, just in case. Keep your eyes peeled for any suspicious vehicles.”
As we drove through the night, the city gave way to suburbs, then to the rolling countryside. I kept an eye on my mirror but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
“So, who’s this Mr. Baxter?”
Wren asked, breaking the tense silence. “And why would someone want him dead?”
I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. “He was my landlord. Sweet old man.”
A lump formed in my throat as I remembered his kind smile, now forever silenced.
“Maybe he knew something,”
Wren mused. “Something dangerous.”
”He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time”— I shook my head. — “No. The guy was looking for something. He was tossing my apartment.”
She glanced at me but didn’t say a thing. As we turned down the long driveway to the estate, a pair of headlights suddenly appeared in the passenger side mirror, growing larger by the second.
“Wren,”
I whispered, my voice tight with fear. “I think we’ve got company.”
With a worried look, her eyes went to the rearview mirror and a sigh of relief escaped past her lips. “That’s Rory and Kat.”
I relaxed in my seat as the guard at the gates waved us through. “Kat? Who is Kat?”
“She’s Declan and Connor’s sister.”
Did I just hear her correctly? They were brothers. She must have saw the confusion on my face from the lights on the dashboard, because she excitedly said, “Oh right! I didn’t tell you. Connor is Tomas’ son too. And he is taking over as Captain. You’re just in time, his swearing in ceremony is next week.”
She grinned at me, “You’ll get to see him in a kilt again.”
I frowned. “Connor? Captain? When did all this happen?”
Wren chuckled, though there was a hint of tension in her voice. “Long story short. Tomas made him Captain from beyond the grave.”
I looked at her like she was nuts but said nothing as we pulled up to the grand estate, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease. The sprawling mansion loomed before us, its windows dark and uninviting. Rory and Kat’s car came to a stop beside ours, and I watched as two figures emerged from the shadows.
“Welcome back, stranger,”
Rory called out, his familiar grin visible even in the dim light.
I smiled at Rory. He was the first of the MacGallan clan that I had the privilege to meet. He was also the man that had hauled Cookie from my house back to here.
The woman beside him – Kat, I presumed – regarded me with a friendly smile and curious eyes. “So, you’re the one they’ve been talking about.”
Before I could respond, Wren was at my side, ushering us all towards the house. “Come on, inside,”
she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
As we entered the foyer, the lights flickered to life, revealing the opulent interior. But my attention was drawn to the figure standing at the top of the staircase – Connor, dressed in full Highland regalia, his expression a mixture of relief and concern.
Wren looked up and laughed. “Connor, what the hell are you wearing that for?”
“Practice,”
he said, his eyes locking with mine. “You made it. Do you want to get married?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat.
Rory laughed. “Jesus Connor, let the woman get settled in first, would you?”
The room fell silent, all eyes darting between him and me. My heart raced, and I felt my cheeks flush with heat. He had to be joking. I looked at Wren, but she offered not the slightest hint as to what was going on because she kept looking everywhere in the room but at me.
“I... what?”
I finally managed to stammer out. I could feel the blush spread throughout my body. The last time I’d seen Connor was a few months ago at Wren and Declan’s wedding, and he didn’t even let on that he had the slightest interest in me, even when he held me in his arms on the dance floor.
Rory and Kat headed off to the kitchen as Connor descended the stairs. His kilt swaying with each step caught my eye. As he drew closer, I could see the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Relax,”
he said, his voice low and tinged with amusement. “I’m just messing with you.” His expression sobered as he looked at me intently. “Actually. I’m not. We have a lot to talk about.”
Wren cleared her throat. “Perhaps you two should move this to the study? Connor, she needs a drink. And where is Declan?”
“Cleaning the stalls,”
he said as he put a hand to the small of my back.
She nodded and couldn’t seem to get out of there fast enough.
His hand brushed against mine as we walked, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I glanced at him, but his eyes were fixed ahead, his jaw set in determination. Whatever had happened in my absence, it was clear that the carefree Connor I once knew had been replaced by someone carrying the weight of immense responsibility.
The study door creaked open, revealing a room bathed in warm lamplight and the soft glow of a crackling fire. I just about turned tail and ran.
But I didn’t.