Chapter 35 Robyn #2
The number came up as unknown.
Usually, I’d ignore unknown numbers.
However, a strange sensation of foreboding shivered down my spine, and my thumb hit the answer button before I could think about it. “Hello.”
There was heavy breathing down the line.
Chilled, I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if Fergus knew I was in his apartment.
“Hello?” I bit out angrily as I stalked out into the main living space, standing in the middle of the room so no fucker could get the jump on me.
“Is this Robyn Penhaligon?” a voice that was clearly masked using a voice-changing app asked. The accent was Scottish, however.
I swallowed hard. “Who is this?”
“I have Lachlan Adair.”
My heart lurched in my throat. No.
“When I get off the phone, I’ll text you directions to his location. If you want to save him, you’ll shake your bodyguards and come alone.”
Fuck. I wanted to say his name. To say, I know it’s you, you asshole. But the thought of putting Lachlan in further danger stopped me.
“I’m watching you, Robyn. I’ll know if you step on this land with those men at your back.”
He hung up.
Shaking with the rush of adrenaline, I tried to figure out how to get rid of my security. Then I remembered Fergus mentioned he owned a motorcycle.
I was rummaging through his drawers for keys when the text came in.
Pulling up my maps app, I tried to figure out where he was sending me.
From my guess … oh shit.
McCulloch land.
Anger ripped through me as I stormed into the kitchen, wrenching open drawers to look for keys. It had been that old bastard all along!
Finding a key that looked like it could fit a motorcycle, I snatched it and let myself out through the French doors off the kitchen that led onto a balcony. The balcony overlooked the parking lot and was hidden from the street at the front of the building where Gillies and Smithy waited.
Ignoring my aching ribs, I climbed onto a drainpipe attached to the building and shimmied down the cold metal. Even that slight drop to the ground shot shards of pain into my ribs, but I didn’t have time to take a breath.
My phone beeped in my pocket.
Another text.
YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES OR HE DIES.
Hurrying across the lot to the old motorcycle sitting in the spot marked with Fergus’s apartment number, I got on the bike and felt relief flood through me when the key slotted perfectly into the ignition and the motorcycle growled to life.
I checked the text with the directions again and memorized them as best as I could.
Then I was off, the motorcycle wobbling beneath my feet because I hadn’t ridden one since high school—and even then, it was a moped. I followed the road north out of Ardnoch, gunning the engine when I felt more confident.
The directions led me to a trail just narrow enough for a bike to traverse on the edge of McCulloch’s land.
And because I wasn’t a moron—and Fergus and McCulloch weren’t masterminds—I called Mac and told him everything in one big rush.
“Stay put!” he yelled in outrage as soon as I was done.
“If I don’t go to wherever it is they want me, they’ll hurt him. They’ve come too far now not to. I’ll get there and you find a way to follow me without alerting them.”
“Robyn—”
“We’re wasting time, Dad!”
“Fuck!” he bit out. “Fine. Forward me the text with the directions.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
“Don’t say that to me right now … I could kill you for going off on your own.”
“I’m not on my own. You’re coming to get me.”
He sucked in a breath. “I love you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Be careful.”
“Yup.” I hung up abruptly, second-guessing my decision.
Maybe it was safer to wait for Mac.
There had to be a reason Fergus and McCulloch wanted me there too. Either way, they were caught … but that was the problem. Either way, they were caught. If I went, I put myself in danger along with Lachlan, but there was a chance I could save him.
If I didn’t go and I waited for Mac, they would definitely kill him. They had nothing left to lose, right? And they hadn’t exactly proven themselves the most rational people.
Rock, meet Hard Place.
Gunning the motorbike engine, I shot off down the trail, my fury spurring me on. I had no reason to fear getting lost from that point on. The trail led directly to a small shack in the woods, and the same truck that had run me off the road was parked out front.
I almost shook my head in disbelief.
This couldn’t get any more cliché. Fergus had watched one too many movies about how to do this.
I stopped the bike near the little porch of the run-down wooden structure. There seemed to be no purpose for it, but then I didn’t know enough about farming to understand why McCulloch would have this building on his land.
Getting off the bike, I froze at the sight of the door opening. It was crooked on its hinges and creaked as it swung into the dark of the little shack. No one stood behind the door.
Well, that’s creepy.
Pushing through the fear that hit my knees like reflex hammers, I walked up the porch steps and—
“Lachlan!” I moved to launch myself through the doorway, but sense halted me.
He faced me sideways. Tied to a chair, blood trickling down his temple, pale and probably concussed, his hands handcuffed behind his back. A gag covered his mouth.
Lachlan looked toward me, and his eyes widened with horror. He shook his head as he shoved his body with all his might, moving the chair with the violence of his reaction.
“Stop it.” A figure moved into view and pressed a gun to the head of the person I hadn’t even noticed was knocked out next to Lachlan. “Or I kill her.”
Lucy!
Lachlan froze, but he glared at me, and I heard his muffled shout for me to run.
I couldn’t run.
Not now.
The masked man turned and looked directly at me. “Get in and shut the door or I blow her head off.”
Fergus.
It was definitely his voice.
Aware that McCulloch might be hidden behind the door, I slipped into the room with my back scraping against the wall. Lachlan craned his neck, following my every move. Seeing his despair, I quickly looked away and reached out to catch the edge of the door to shut it.
To my shock, we were alone in the small rectangular, one-room shack. There were two small windows at opposite ends that let in very little light. Except for a low-watt bulb hanging from the ceiling and an unconscious Lucy and an injured Lachlan tied to metal chairs, there was nothing else in it.
And of course, Fergus.
No McCulloch.
“You might as well take off the mask, Fergus.”
He shook his head. “Not the plan.”
“What is the plan?”
“Following orders.”
McCulloch’s.
“And those are?”
“To get rid of you.”
Goose bumps prickled over my skin. He said it so casually. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I just do what I’m told.”
“No … why?” I gestured to him. “Why would you do this to the Adairs? I thought they were like family to you?”
His strange purple contacts brightened in the dim light. “Family? Family doesn’t abandon each other.”
Lachlan grunted.
Deciding the best plan of action was to keep Fergus talking long enough for Mac, his men, and the police to get there, I pushed, “You think they abandoned you?”
Fergus scoffed behind his mask. “Treated me like a pet they could cast aside whenever they felt like it. I was Brodan’s best mate. Did you know that?”
I nodded.
“He was all I had. Growing up in a family like mine … Brodan and Arrochar were all I had. And he fucked off to Hollywood and forgot about all of us, and she broke it off with me like what we had was nothing!”
“So you want them all dead?”
He swiped his head to the side, his gun hand wavering. “I just wanted them to hurt like I hurt.”
I imagined him waiting outside my father’s home and then gutting him, just like he’d gutted McHugh. Rage seethed beneath my surface. “Why Mac?”
Fergus lifted the gun and pointed it directly at me, and Lachlan thrashed against his bindings. “Stop it, or I kill her right now,” the mechanic warned.
Lachlan desisted, but his chest heaved with panic.
Trying to block him out, I asked my question again.
“Because,” Fergus answered, “he wants what’s mine.”
Oh my God.
I squeezed my eyes closed in understanding.
No wonder we couldn’t put the pieces together. Mac’s attack wasn’t because he was close to Lachlan or investigating the case.
It was because Fergus noticed what I’d noticed.
There was something between my dad and Arrochar.
Fergus was still in love with Arrochar Adair.
Feeling so grateful that he’d failed in taking my dad from me, but so horrified for McHugh, my eyes flew open. “And Greg McHugh?”
Fergus’s breath hitched. “A mistake. He caught me unaware.” To my shock, I heard tears in his voice. “It wasn’t meant. I’m sorry that happened.”
“You’re sorry you murdered a man?”
He shook the gun at me, and my hands flew up defensively as Lachlan roared behind his gag. “Don’t judge me, bitch!”
“I’m sorry,” I appeased him. “I’m just trying to figure this out, Fergus. It doesn’t make sense to me … bringing Lachlan and Lucy here. Why hurt Lucy?”
“That’s for me to know.”
I frowned because he’d been pretty forthcoming so far. That also meant he intended to kill us—the more we knew, the more we needed to die. But I had no intention of allowing that to happen. Just keep him talking. “Then what about me? Why attack me?”
“Him.” He cut his chin toward Lachlan.
“You wanted to hurt Lachlan?”
“Not me.” Fergus shrugged. “Lachlan’s been all right to me. The only Adair to give a shit.”
“So why would you hurt him?”
“Because I made a promise.” He raised his gun again and pointed it at me. “I am sorry, Robyn. You’re a good person.”
“Do you think I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here?” I blurted out, trying to stall. “I’ve been to your apartment, Fergus, and saw the room with all the boxes. They know it’s you. The police are on their way.”
His hand wavered. “No … No … I …”
A deafening crack sounded milliseconds before Fergus’s head snapped back. Blood and brain matter exploded out of the back of it.