49. London
As the drizzle clung to our hair and Murray’s beard, Kelly and I tried to lighten Murray’s mood by taking “drowned rat” pictures on the ferry before it docked at Oban.
He smiled absentmindedly as he took the photos of Kelly and I clasping our hands in dramatic despair at the wreckage the light rain had caused our hair.
I’d never experienced anything quite like Scottish drizzle. You looked out, saw it was “spitting,” as my Scots called it, and thought you’d be fine. What’s a little rain, right?
Yeah, that Scottish drizzle could soak you through in five minutes.
Considering it was horribly humid, Kelly and I wore only light jackets over our summer dresses. Thankfully, we had a change of clothes with us since we were staying in a waterfront lodge Murray had booked.
The back-to-school shopping weekend was supposed to be fun, to remind Kelly that she’d gotten through the worst school year of her life and out the other end to start anew. However, Murray was so tense, and while I knew why, Kelly was completely flummoxed by his odd mood.
When he didn’t laugh at the impromptu photo shoot, she snatched her phone back and grumbled, “You know, if you didn’t want to come, London and I could have done this weekend without you.”
Murray winced. “M’eudail, of course I want to be here.”
“You’re not acting like it.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and bent his head to kiss her temple. “I’m shaking off my grumpiness, I promise.”
“Why are you grumpy?”
“We had an issue with a shipment, and I didn’t sleep much last night,” he answered semi-truthfully. That had happened.
But I knew his uncharacteristic taciturnity was more about us leaving the safety of Glenvulin for the weekend. I’d reminded him that morning we had to start living our lives. Otherwise, people like Nick and Dorian Walsh won.
“I’m sorry you had a rubbish night.”
Murray softened at his daughter’s concern. “I’m sorry I was grumpy. C’mon. Let’s get to the car and go drop off our luggage at the lodge so we can start this shopping malarkey.”
Turned out that the lodge was even prettier than the photos.
Kelly and I oohed and aahed as we wandered through the modern property that sat on the water’s edge.
It had a glossy high-spec kitchen like something out of a magazine and an open-plan living area with a plush corner sofa and a huge TV mounted on the wall opposite.
There was a wraparound deck accessed through full-length sliders that provided a view over the loch.
Even on a dreary day it was stunning. The bedrooms were kind of small, but they were beautifully presented and the bed passed my bounce test.
After we changed into dry clothes, jeans and T-shirts (it still felt too humid for jeans despite the rain), and hung up the clothes we’d been wearing to dry for tomorrow, we got back in the SUV to drive into town.
I discovered there weren’t a ton of clothing options in Oban beyond a lot of hiking/mountaineering-type retailers.
There were a ton of cute gift shop type boutiques but clothing wise for a teen girl, options were limited.
We found a few cute things and got her a new backpack.
Still, I made a mental note to plan a cool girls’ weekend in Glasgow next year for back-to-school shopping.
Murray’s phone rang while we were looking at fall coats for myself and for Kelly. At his heavy exhalation, I glanced over my shoulder.
“It’s the customer from last night,” he explained apologetically.
I waved him off. “Take it.”
Kelly wasn’t even paying attention; she was too busy pulling her favorite choices from the racks. Murray was obviously displeased by the interruption but gave me a nod before heading out of the store to take the call.
Fifteen minutes later, Kelly was in the changing room trying on a couple of sweaters, as well as a few coats, and Murray was still outside somewhere on the phone call.
I’d wandered back into the storefront to give Kelly some space but kept close so I could hear her shout for me over the Celtic music that played through the shop on low volume.
My heart jolted when I thought I heard a muffled yell.
Thinking Kelly was calling for me, I called out her name.
There was no response and I forced myself to relax, shaking my head as my pulse raced.
Murray’s tension was rubbing off on me. Strolling back to the changing rooms, I called out Kelly’s name again, only to hear a muffled squeal.
That got my feet moving.
“Kelly!” I hurried into the back room, horror thrusting my heart into overdrive at the sight of Kelly’s kicking legs disappearing out the back exit.
“Kelly!” I didn’t think. I just ran after her, shoving the heavy fire door with all my might.
I stumbled out, and fear coalesced with rage as my stepdaughter was dragged roughly down the street behind the store.
“Kelly!” I raced after her as she struggled against a stranger’s grip, his large hand covering her mouth, her eyes flaring wildly when she saw me.
The man who had her was bald and wore a suit. I drank in his hawklike profile and sharp cheekbones, trying to place him. I’d never seen him before in my life.
I did note he was twice my size, but it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was my stepdaughter’s safety.
As he angrily hauled Kelly toward a black vehicle sat in the no parking zone, I realized the back passenger door was open and waiting.
There was no time to think, to consider. I just knew I had to stop this before he pushed her into the back of that SUV.
“No!” I screamed, running at him, beating him across the head with my swinging fists, ignoring the splintering pain ricocheting down my hands.
He dropped Kelly to protect his head, and I tried to reach for her, to pull her to her feet so we could run, but strong arms banded around my waist and pain blasted up the back of my skull.
I was disoriented, dazed for a second as the world spun.
Then a door slammed and there was darkness.
Clutching at my throbbing head as my body jerked forward, I reached out to stop myself from falling and realized I was somehow in the back of the car.
“London! Help! Someone help!” The distant screams had me scrambling to look out the back windscreen.
Kelly stood alone in the middle of the street, screaming and sobbing after me. I saw a woman approach her just before I was physically hauled from the window and forced back upright into a seat.
The man.
The man who had taken Kelly glowered at me as he sat on the bench beside me. “Sit and be quiet,” he demanded in an accent I couldn’t place.
Nausea roiled in my gut. “Who are you?”
“I said be quiet.”
When I tried to ask again, he smacked me across the face, my lower lip catching on a tooth. At the taste of blood and the ringing in my ears, I shut up. My mind raced loudly, though.
I think I knew who he was.
Deep down, I knew.
However, if I thought too hard on where I was going, I’d buckle under the fear.
I couldn’t buckle.
Murray and Kelly and Nee and Taran and all our friends needed me to stay calm so I could figure my way out of this.
MURRAY
The screaming alarmed me as Greg, the customer we’d pissed off last night, ranted about our shipment system. But it took me a second to realize I recognized those distant screams, and I suddenly couldn’t even hear Greg over the blood rushing in my ears.
“Greg, I’m sorry. I need to call you back.” I hung up on my spluttering customer as I strode toward the screams and looked up the dark alley between the boutique where I’d left my daughter and wife and the neighboring pet shop.
“London! Help! Daaaaaad!”
“Kelly?!” I bellowed. Fear sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through my body as I took off up the alleyway. Suddenly my daughter appeared at the other end, a woman I didn’t recognize standing next to her on the phone, gesturing wildly.
“Dad!” Kelly rushed to meet me, slamming into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Kelly? Kelly?” I pushed her gently back, searching her for injury. “Kelly, where’s London?”
My daughter’s eyes were filled with a chilling terror.
“He took her!” she cried. “This man … h-he came into the back of the shop and dragged me out. L-London chased after us and got him off me. But he threw her in the back of his car.” She broke into sobs again and I tried to stay calm, stay focused, even as this voice inside of me roared in panic.
I clutched Kelly to my side, taking her with me as I strode over to the strange woman who was on the phone. She hung up as I approached, her face pale, eyes wild. “Are you her father?” she demanded shakily.
“Aye, what happened?”
“I saw it all. The police are on their way.” She seemed to be in a state of shock herself.
“This man, this bald man in a suit had your daughter and the redhead came out of there.” She pointed to the back door of the shop.
“She hit him until he dropped the girl. And then he hit the redhead and threw her in the back of the car. It was a black Range Rover, but the license plate was scrubbed. I’m so sorry, I …
I cannae believe what I just witnessed ... ”
The panic rushed forth as I stared down the street, vaguely aware of people gawking at us and whispering among themselves.
There was no sign of a black Range Rover on the narrow streets.
Kelly shook against me so violently it made me shiver in answer.
I held on tighter, my mind racing as I tugged my phone free and tried to call London.
It rang out as this fucking awful powerlessness crashed over me.
Who took her? Why? And where?
“Did you recognize him?” I asked Kelly.
She shook her head rapidly.
A bald man in a suit. It could be anyone. Someone to do with the Walsh situation. Or someone to do with Nick.
So what? I had to stand here and wait for the police?
No. No way. I needed to be out there looking.
Nothing could happen to London. If something happened to her … it would destroy me. It would destroy everything.
“M’eudail, I need—” I was cut off by my phone buzzing in my hand. If it was Greg, who had kept me on the phone for fucking ages while my wife was taken from me, I would lose my mind.
Thankfully for Greg, it wasn’t.
It was Ramsay.
Desperate, I answered without preamble. “Someone’s taken London. Right off the street in Oban!”
“I’m here,” Ramsay replied with bite. “They found Nick. I brought my boat over here as quickly as I could, but I need a car. Nick is at a private airstrip just outside of Oban. He must have her. Police are on their way.”
Trying to think through the building desperation, I barked, “Where are you?”
He gave me his location.
“I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, I turned to Kelly. “Wait here for the police.”
“No!” She sobbed, horrified. “Dad, no, don’t leave me.”
Fuck. It was either leave her here without me where anyone might take her again or bring her along on a dangerous rescue mission.
“We’re going after London, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Dad, please don’t leave me.”
Heart aching, I nodded abruptly, grabbed my daughter’s hand, and hurried toward the alleyway.
“What about the police?” the woman called behind us.
I ignored her and kept running, heading for my SUV, compartmentalizing the plan because if I thought about what might happen if we failed, I’d fall apart and be of no use to anyone.