Callum (10 page)

“Would you like to press charges?”

There was a beat of silence, and then Kenneth said, “No. Just need a moment for cooler heads to prevail.”

The officer looked at Callum again, his gaze measuring his size and strength, he was sure. The young man probably knew Callum could have killed McWalton easily.

“If you’re sure, Laird.” With a nod, the constable ambled away, but stopped just down the street to watch them. Smart lad. If Callum had a moment alone with McWalton, there was a good chance he’d kill him for what he’d said about Anice.

“You’ll lose one of these days, Callum. You’ll suffer. The best part about it is that I’ll be there to witness it.”

Without turning around, Callum said, “Stay away from my cousins.”

He started back to his car, trying to clear the bloodlust from his veins. It was worse this time than last, but then he’d never disparaged Anice, and that was one thing Callum couldn’t allow. Halfway down the block, he stopped. The glee in McWalton’s voice when he said they would suffer wasn’t anything new, but there was a new thread of confidence to it.

Callum stopped and looked back over his shoulder and watched as McWalton walked around the corner and out of his sight. McWalton didn’t come to Edinburgh on a regular basis, living in the crumbling McWalton home in the Highlands outside of Inverness. Money was tight for Clan McWalton and had been for centuries. Years of bad investments and infighting had drained their resources. Coming to the city cost money they didn’t have. Only the most important things would draw Kenneth to the city, for monetary and personal reasons. He hated the city and avoided it as much as possible, especially since his broken engagement.

So what the hell was he doing here?

“Kenneth McWalton is in Edinburgh.”

The announcement brought expressions of irritation to disinterest from Callum’s cousins. He was seated at his desk. Angus and Anice both sat in the chairs in front of his desk while Logan stretched out on the leather couch, and Fletcher sat at Phoebe’s desk.

“How do you know?” Logan asked.

“Ran into him on the street. Had a slight altercation.”

“How slight?” Angus asked.

Callum grimaced. He didn’t regret scaring the piss out of the wanker, but he didn’t like making a scene.

“A constable interfered.”

“Bloody hell, Callum,” Angus bellowed. “What happened?”

“We had a few words. He threatened me, as usual.” He shrugged. “I lost my temper.”

“Are we going to need to issue a press release?” This came from Anice, who handled their PR. Her blue gaze was a mixture of irritation and worry.

“No. McWalton let it go. But I can’t help worrying he’s up to something.”

Angus snorted. “Of course he is. He always is.”

Anice brushed one of her long, black locks over her shoulder and frowned at Callum. “Did you have to cause a problem? Couldn’t you have avoided him?”

Callum shook his head. “You know Kenny-boy. The bastard wouldn’t allow for that. Now, the question is, what is he up to? And does it have anything to do with our good doctor?”

Angus frowned while all the others remained silent. “I doubt they know each other, and seriously, how would he know about the diary?”

“If anything, it bears investigation,” Fletcher remarked, hopping up from the desk. “I’ll get someone to tail him while he’s here.”

“Good. I have a conference call in a few minutes, but let me know what you have.”

“Do you think I should check the local news, make sure nothing was caught?” Anice asked.

“I don’t think you need to contact them, but keep your ear to the ground. I don’t want to call any attention to it if we don’t need to. I’m still a bit amazed that he didn’t have me arrested. He still has clout in Edinburgh. It wouldn’t have done much but irritate me, but that would have amused Kenneth.”

Anice rose to do his bidding, and he looked at Angus who said, “Logan, do you mind giving Callum and I a few minutes alone?”

Logan glanced first at Callum and waited until he nodded. Within moments, they were alone.

“Give over. What the hell did he do?”

Callum rose from his chair, the restlessness plaguing him again. It was no wonder. The altercation had just intensified his need to let loose physically. He should have stayed at Calista’s. It was a mistake to leave without shagging her.

“He made some insinuations about Anice.”

“That son of a bitch.” Anger vibrated in his voice. When he looked back over his shoulder, the expression on Angus’s face could only be described as murderous. “I wish I’d been there.”

Callum chuckled. “Anice would be issuing a press release on how the CEO and the Director of Technology from Lennon Enterprises were arrested for assault. She wouldn’t be happy with us.”

Angus offered him a slight smile before it dissolved into a serious expression. “You don’t think he has anything to do with Phoebe, do you?”

The anxiety he heard in his cousin’s voice bothered him. He was afraid there was more to it than worrying about the diary. He didn’t particularly like the idea that his cousin might have fallen for their researcher.

“I’m not sure. But with both of them in Edinburgh on the same day, we need to make sure there is no connection.”

Grimness settled over Angus’s features. “I don’t think she has anything to do with McWalton. Just how would she have met him?”

Callum hated this, hated being the one to fight this battle. His cousins were his only kin. Angus and he were close, closer than he was with the others. But Callum couldn’t allow him to fall under Phoebe’s spell. If she was up to something and was tied to McWalton, she had no scruples. She would use Angus to get what she wanted.

“Phoebe was in Edinburgh shopping.”

“She told us she was going to be there. Hell, you had Belvidore take her.”

With resignation, he dropped back in his chair. “She said she was going to the library. Then I find her blocks away in a store.”

Angus stuck out his chin. Callum knew that expression. It meant that Angus had sunk his teeth into the position and was going to fight. “That means nothing. You’ve been suspicious of her from the start, and now you’re coming up with excuses. You act as if you don’t want to succeed.”

Callum kept his expression as stoic as possible. He didn’t want to do this, push Angus to see the truth, but he didn’t have a choice. He could be a weak link.

“She lied—or wasn’t completely truthful,” he added when Angus opened his mouth to argue. Angry with the situation and Angus’s accusation, his tone lowered, viciously so. “How many shops are there in Edinburgh? And she happens to be in the one that is in the direction McWalton was walking? Do you believe in coincidences? I don’t. It might be innocent. But can we take that chance?”

Irritation passed over Angus’s features, his eyes darkening with anger. “I know—”

“You know nothing. She’s a woman you’re smitten with. Something isna right, something you don’t want to see. You’re not thinking with the right head.”

“Callum—”

“Enough.” He fairly yelled. Resentment burned in his gut, and it was all this woman’s fault. “If I’m wrong, then you can rub my face in it.”

Angus stared at him, the silence almost deafening. Without another word, he stood, tossed another searing look over his shoulder, and he left Callum alone.

He was worried about McWalton being in the city, but he was more worried that he’d contemplated not telling his cousins, letting it go. He knew better, that somehow they would find out and there would be hell to pay for not informing them. His motives hadn’t been to spare his cousins. It had been because of Phoebe.

He didn’t trust her. She was English. She didn’t particularly like him, and he didn’t particularly like her. But his cousins knew nothing of his personal motives. That while he would order them to investigate, he didn’t want her to be connected to McWalton. Not for the sake of their project, but because he wanted her. There was a point, one small moment, when he thought of not telling them of the altercation with McWalton. He wanted no one to make the connection, no one to think ill of Phoebe.

And that, he thought, was more worry than any curse or bastard laird.

Phoebe powered down her laptop and realized she shouldn’t have skipped dinner. It was nine at night, and the last meal she had eaten was around ten that morning. She didn’t count the candy bar she had around three as a meal. It had been a sorry substitute for afternoon tea, but she’d taken the coward’s way out instead of facing any of the cousins. Upon returning from Edinburgh, she wanted nothing more than to be alone to think. And they hadn’t been pleasant thoughts.

She’d left the shop with a gift for her mother, but she’d given up on Mr. McWalton. She only had a small amount of time to meet with him undetected, and what a bloody mess that had been. Callum in the very shop where she was to meet McWalton. Shaken from the incident, she bought the gift and bolted after waiting for five minutes. Something was bothering her. Her instincts told her McWalton wasn’t being completely truthful with her. Of course he wasn’t. But every time she thought about him or the situation, there was a sick gnawing in her belly. She’d decided to avoid him and turned off her phone because she knew McWalton would call. She needed time to contemplate just what the hell the man was up to.

Her stomach growled, and she frowned. Maybe she was just hungry. Belvidore had shown up at her door at five to six, but she had sent him away. She didn’t have the diary, but she had her notes, and she needed to do some research. At the start of each new project, she always had this surge of excitement, and she’d learned long ago not to ignore it. There was also the need to get a break from Callum.

As she snuck down the hall, she thought of the last week, of Callum’s ominous presence and the effect he had on her. She didn’t particularly like men like him, workaholics with too much self-importance. But she wanted to be there with him, even if he had barely spoken to her since giving her the diary. Granted, she probably wouldn’t have paid much attention, so engrossed in the code she was deciphering, but every now and then she felt an itch at the base of her neck. She was sure he was watching her. Most every time she glanced at him, he’d been immersed in his own work. It made her self-aware in a way she’d never been before.

It had to be her imagination. He didn’t trust her. That much he had proven today at the shop. Still, her reaction was over the top. Each time she thought he was looking at her, her whole body lighted up like New Year’s Eve in London. And, all the while, she’d been thinking how good he must look without his shirt. Hell, she was wondering how good he would look completely naked.

Damn, after this project, she needed to get a life. Or at least have sex.

Phoebe turned a corner and ran into a rather large male body. Whoever he was laughed and stepped back. Angus’s clever green eyes sparkled with humor as he looked down at her.

“And where are you sneaking off to?”

Heat crept to her face. “I skipped dinner while I worked in my room. I just realized I was hungry.”

“I thought you worked all day with Callum?”

“I don’t work with Callum.” She frowned as she realized her voice was sharper than she intended. “I was doing research on old languages. I wanted to be sure I was translating them correctly.”

“Hmm, so you thought to raid the icebox? Looking for a belly washer?”

She frowned, and he laughed.

“An ale. It means an ale.”

“Well…”

“There I go, bumpin’ me gums.” He’d broadened his accent, thickening his brogue. “You know you’re going the wrong way? Come on.”

He offered her his arm, and she accepted. By the time they reached the empty kitchen, she was at ease again. It was impossible to stay tense around Angus. He helped her assemble a plate of berries, cheese, and bread. While she munched, Angus rummaged around a cupboard.

“Do you normally skulk around the hallways at night?” she asked.

He tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “When I have need for something sweet.” He winked then returned his attention to the cupboard. “Ahh, Ada thought to hide them, I suspect. She’s always seen herself in the role of mother rather than cook.”

As she watched him, she wondered why she couldn’t be attracted to him the way she was Callum. The friendly cousin was definitely more her type. They shared many of the same interests. There was a core of goodness about him that told her he would never cheat, never lie.

When he turned, he was holding a blue tin that had seen better days. He opened it and pulled out a cookie. “She makes the most divine shortbread. It’s a weakness of mine.” As he downed his second—or was it his third—he poured himself a glass of milk. “She’s worried that I eat too many.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about putting on any weight.”

“There is that. Ada is just a hen who has to cluck.” He downed a healthy swallow of milk then asked, “Did you find anything interesting in the diary?”

She nodded. “Some, but it’s confusing. They used several different languages, and I’m not fluent in all of them. I detected some Cornish in there. That was easy enough. And Old English and Old French.”