Legacy of the Highlands (32 page)

Serge’s jaw throbbed as he clenched, then unclenched,
his teeth as if he were chewing gum. External signs of inner
turmoil were rare in a man trained to compartmentalize his
emotions, but he knew his cover was cracking like ice in late
winter. “Damn the girl,” he muttered as he listened to Mairi Graham
give Mackinnon a detailed description of Alex and Diego during her
late night chat with the old man.

What angered him most was that there was no
one but himself to blame for the fuck up. He should never have been
seen in public with Alex and Diego like some amateur. It was his
fault that they’d been ID’d by Mackinnon. He’d allowed his dick to
overrule his head despite knowing that indulging in a fine piece of
ass like Mairi’s often led to trouble. That was Diego’s style, not
his, and he didn’t like what that momentary lapse had cost him.

He rolled his shoulders and forced himself to
focus as he listened to the recording for the third time. It
confirmed that they’d lost their greatest advantage — surprise —
and along with it the enemy’s cocky carelessness. A quick check of
the readout from the tracking device on Mackinnon’s car did nothing
to ease his mind. In addition to showing the route the man took to
drive Mairi home, it also indicated a late night stop at his store.
The two phone calls made by Mackinnon on his office’s bugged phone
increased Serge’s uneasiness.

Mackinnon clearly doubted “Steve Spencer’s”
identity and may have already ID’d Alex and Diego. The old man’s
hunch that Barbara and Rick Sloane were really Diego Navarro and
Alex Cameron meant they were in deep shit and what had he just
done? Sent them for a run…unprotected. Schmuck! He tore out of the
hotel and prayed that they were still on the riverside jogging path
he’d suggested.

Early that morning Mackinnon placed a hand-lettered
sign in the shop’s front window: “Opening at Noon Today.” It was
his custom to unlock the door at ten, but it was his store and he
could open for business whenever he damn well pleased. Instead,
after only a few hours of fitful sleep, he sat in his parked car
just down the road from the posh hotel Mairi had told him was home
to her American friends. He was chilled and hungry for his morning
porridge and tea, but he had to see if his gut was right about
these people.

His patience was rewarded an hour after his
vigil began when an attractive young couple emerged from the hotel
in running clothes. Nervous anticipation made his hands tremble as
he picked up a pair of binoculars from the passenger seat and
lifted them to his eyes. The woman’s auburn hair was a bit longer
than in the photo he had, but he was sure she was Alexandra
Cameron. And there was no mistaking the black haired, handsome
devil with her as Will Cameron’s South American friend, Diego
Navarro. He remembered the warning he’d received about Navarro from
their contact in America — the man is rich, powerful and
hot-tempered and therefore a serious threat.

What surprised Mackinnon even more than their
presence in Inverness was the passionate kiss the two shared before
they began to run. Perhaps they’d done the lass a favor by getting
rid of her husband if that’s the way it was between her and the
dead man’s best friend. But what did he expect? It was a well-known
fact that American women were fast and loose with their bodies, but
it disappointed him that this woman, a Scottish lass descended from
the valiant Gillies Mor MacBain, behaved like a common whore as
well.

Serge realized it wasn’t going to be easy to spot
Alex and Diego. Their height usually made them stand out in any
crowd, but among Scots — many of whom counted Vikings among their
forebears — a 5-foot-10-inch woman and a 6-foot-4-inch man weren’t
so unusual. He’d covered about two miles along the riverside path
before he saw them slowly jogging toward him on their way back to
the hotel.

They looked so damn happy that he momentarily
regretted that once they listened to Mackinnon’s taped
conversations that look would vanish. Then he hardened the place
where his heart resided — his job was to protect their bodies;
their emotions were their business.

Diego smiled and waved when he spotted Serge.
“Decided to give your fat ass some exercise?” he teased. Serge
ignored the taunt and hugged his friend so he could whisper
instructions in Diego’s ear.

“Keep smiling and put your arm around Alex.
Behave as if nothing’s wrong, but get back to the hotel. Now! Don’t
ask questions. Just do it.” Serge broke the embrace, pounded Diego
on the back, and laughed as if they’d just shared a hilarious
joke.

Minutes later, in the secure sanctuary of
Serge’s suite, Diego’s back stiffened as he listened to Mairi
accurately describe him and Alex to Mackinnon.

“The old fool’s definitely on to us. It’s
time for me to pay him a visit and confirm his suspicions. That’s
what we pretty much decided anyway,” Diego said as Alex sprawled in
a chair and guzzled water. She tried not to look worried, but her
churning insides indicated otherwise.

“What do you think?” she asked Serge, certain
that he’d never allow Diego and Mackinnon in the same room despite
their earlier conversation about doing precisely that.

“Before I answer your question, Alex, there’s
more,” Serge said. “The GPS shows that Mackinnon went from Mairi’s
house to his store instead of going home. He made some calls from
there and right now he’s sitting in his car outside this hotel. I’m
sure he saw the two of you leave for your run and come back with
me.” He gripped Diego’s arm to stop him from walking to the window
to check. “No! You know you’re an easy target when you stand in a
window! He could have you in the crosshairs of a high-powered
rifle! Dammit, Diego, I trained you to think defensively. You
better tell your memory to retrieve that training and use it.” His
lecture was delivered in a way that cut off any debate. “I’ve
allowed the two of you a lot of freedom and that’s about to end. No
arguments,” he finished as Diego opened his mouth.

“I was just going to ask,” Diego said the
words with deliberation, “who Mackinnon called last night and what
was said.”

Serge hit “play” and they heard the
unfamiliar dialing sounds of Mackinnon’s ancient rotary phone
before a half-asleep, male voice answered.

“Jamie, lad. Sorry to wake you...Yes, it’s
Grandda. Pay careful attention, boyo. You must leave Geordie’s farm
and you must do it now. Cameron’s people are in Scotland and they
may know where you are. No, you may not go back to sleep until
morning. Do it now and don’t argue!” he roared. “Go to the next
safe house. Don’t even take time to pack a bag. Tell no one — no
one at all — where you’re going. And lad, keep your mobile phone
close. I’ll ring you later to see you’ve arrived safe. God be with
you.”

Mackinnon didn’t wait for his grandson to
reply before he ended the call. He knew the young man would follow
instructions. He’d killed Cameron’s son and the lad knew he could
end up in jail just like his Da…or worse.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Diego said. His face
flushed with anger and he ran both hands through his hair as he
strode from one end of the room to the other.

“Now what?” Alex asked in a small voice. She
moved to the edge of her chair and began to twist the towel she’d
used minutes earlier to mop the post-run sweat from her face.

“Before we consider our next move, you need
to listen to one more conversation,” said Serge.

“Crap. There’s more?” Diego said, but Serge
had already switched the machine on.

Alex wrapped her arms around herself as the
sound of Mackinnon’s voice filled the room. Just the thought of the
man made her skin crawl and she shuddered in anticipation of
hearing his heavy Scottish burr again. But the next voice on the
tape wasn’t Mackinnon’s. It was another half-asleep male who
identified himself when he answered the phone as Michael
Graham.

“Is that Mairi’s father?” Diego was as
stunned to hear this name as Serge had been earlier.

Serge nodded and put a finger to his lips.
“Shhh. Listen.”

“Michael, we’ve a problem,” began
Mackinnon.

“Aye?”

“Yes. You know the American that your Mairi’s
sweet on?

“I do. Has he done something to her, then?
I’ll kill him if he forced himself on the lass!”

“No, it’s naught to do with the lass so
you’ve no need yet to reach for that pistol you keep beneath your
bed. She’s been a great help in fact. She told me about some
associates of the American who have joined him here.”

“And what of it? This is why you woke me in
the middle of the night?” Michael responded angrily.

“It’s who those people are that should worry
you — young Cameron’s widow and one of the dead lad’s friends.”

“You’re daft, man. That can’t be. Where would
my Mairi have come across those two anyway?”

“She went to the hotel hoping to see her
American and she spotted him and his friends going into the
restaurant. But when this Steve Spencer introduced them to your
Mairi, he gave them different names. Her description sounded so
much like the Cameron woman and Navarro that I went to the shop to
look at the photos sent by our man in Boston. It seems a match, but
I plan to have a look at the two of them in the morning with me own
eyes to be sure.”

“Bugger and blast! If it’s them, this is
bad.”

“Aye, ‘tis. I’ve already ordered young Jamie
to leave Geordie’s for the next safe house.”

“You’ve done well, James. If your hunch is
right, we’re in for stormy seas. I’ll come by the shop at noon. Get
some sleep.”

Alex’s head was spinning. This plan to snare
Mackinnon had suddenly sprouted more tentacles than an octopus.
She’d stopped believing that they could pull it off, even if she
went along with the idea to dangle an armed and dangerous Diego as
bait.

“Did you get the impression that Graham was
the one giving the orders?” Diego asked Serge.

“I did. Graham steered the conversation and
it was he who ended the call. Mackinnon is probably the number two
and Graham the mastermind, but when Mairi brought me home so her
parents could check me out, her father did a good job convincing me
that he’s a simple family man who worked hard to support his brood.
He seemed bored when I turned the discussion to Scottish
politics.”

“If he’s in charge, that means he’s more of a
threat to us than Mackinnon, right?” Alex asked.

“Definitely.” Serge rubbed a day’s growth of
stubble on his chin. “Graham apparently gives the orders and
Mackinnon sees that they’re carried out.”

“It seems strange that Will’s father never
mentioned anyone named Michael Graham when he told me that he’d
betrayed these people and turned in Mackinnon’s son. I wonder if
John even knows him,” Alex commented.

“I don’t give a shit about Graham or
Mackinnon or who John Cameron knows or doesn’t know!” Diego said as
his lips thinned and his eyes blazed with anger. “What do we do
about this grandson? Can we assume from one conversation that he’s
the murderer? Fucking hell, we have to be sure.”

Serge watched Diego pace for a few minutes
before responding. “We can’t go off half-cocked or we could blow
the whole operation. I know you’re running out of patience, but can
we agree that I’m the professional here?” Serge waited until Diego
nodded before continuing. “Everything we know points to the
grandson as Will’s assassin so we’ve got to find out where they’ve
stashed him. I’ll listen to all of the tapes again and re-examine
Mackinnon’s movements to see if I interpret them differently with
this new information. Your being in Scotland has to have shaken
them. And if they’re as scared right now as I think they are,
there’s likely to be more activity and that may draw out the rest
of them. Give me twenty-four hours to come up with at least two
ways to resolve this and then we’ll make a decision. Sound
good?”

“I guess we have no choice,” Diego conceded
grudgingly.

“I want you and Alex to spend a couple of
nights in some remote Highland village so I can focus on our
options without distractions.”

“Excellent idea,” Diego agreed a bit too
eagerly for Serge’s peace of mind.

“This is serious. They know who you are and
what both of you look like which makes you easy marks.” Serge
looked directly at Diego. “Do you hear me? I know you Navarro.
Don’t do anything that will piss me off.”

“Who, me? Piss you off? When have I ever done
that?” Diego taunted. “All right, all right. It won’t be a hardship
to spend a few days in the country, will it Alex?”

“I’d love to get far away from this mess. I
can be ready to leave in an hour.”

Serge stood at the window and scanned the area
around the hotel’s entrance with binoculars capable of spotting a
strand of hair two hundred yards away. Mackinnon had left a while
ago, but with Diego and Alex’s presence no longer a secret, he had
to be sure that one of his accomplices hadn’t continued the old
man’s surveillance. It was risky to expose them like this, but the
bodyguard was confident that it was too soon for a tail to have
been arranged. They’d be safer in the countryside, but until they
were out of sight he would remain vigilant.

“Go!” he instructed Diego without turning
away from his post once he was sure the area was clear. He kept his
eyes on the two of them as Diego tossed two overnight bags in the
Mini Cooper and then held the passenger door open for Alex. But the
woman didn’t get in. Instead she folded her arms and said something
to Diego. Serge would have liked to hear what they were saying, but
Alex had her back to him so he couldn’t read her lips. It was
entertaining to watch her challenge Diego’s usual role as the
dominant partner.

“Give me the keys, Navarro. You said you
don’t like to drive here...roundabouts...wrong
side...remember?”