The Presence

“Hey, horses are your thing, and you’re the expert. As for KP, we’re all in on it. So! Ta-ta, cheerio and all that! I’m off!” And with a smile, she made her exit.

Bruce entered Jonathan Tavish’s office after a brief tap against the doorframe. Jonathan looked up and arched a brow. “Bruce, I thought you’d be guarding the family jewels, what with that houseful in the old estate.”

“Hardly an estate, and totally a crumbling castle,” Bruce said, taking a seat. “Actually, the more I walk around the place, the more amazed I am. They’ve taken care of a ton of minor things that I’ve put off for years.”

“It’s tough when you’re keeping up with too much,” Jonathan agreed. He grinned. “Now, if you were just among the local peasant law-keepers, you’d be here year-round, pluggin’ up holes at any given time. So … it seems you’re not quite as angry as you were when you first learned about your guests?”

Bruce angled his head slightly as he surveyed his friend. They were close in age, had known each other since childhood. They shared a passion for this little neck of the world, though they didn’t always agree about how it should be run. Bruce was the local gentry, as it were, and Jonathan was the local law. But because Jonathan was local, and had always been local, he seemed to maintain a chip on his shoulder where Bruce was concerned.

One day, maybe, Jonathan would run for the position of provost. As such, he could implement more of his own ideas. Thus far, though, he seemed to like being constable.

“I’ve cooled down some, yes,” Bruce said. “Since no one threw them out in my absence, I thought another few days couldn’t hurt too much.”

“Ah,” Jonathan teased. “It was the blonde, eh? What a beauty—and what absolute hell on wheels!”

“She does have a way about her,” Bruce agreed. “But this isn’t the first time I’ve heard about this happening.”

“Your castle being taken over?” Jonathan said, puzzled.

Bruce shook his head. “This sort of thing in general. People going through what they think are private enterprises or legitimate rental agencies and winding up in a similar circumstance. I really want to find out what happened in this situation.”

“Like you said, it happens too often.”

“Yes, but this time it happened to be my castle that was taken over.”

“Come Monday, you can let those folks see all your records. They can bring their documents down, and we’ll get someone on it right away. Unfortunately, sometimes—especially in this age of the Internet—people can clean up their trails.” He lifted his hands. “I might have gotten started on it already, but they didn’t want to hand over the documents.”

“It’s all they’ve got to prove anything.”

“Great. They don’t trust the law.”

“Well,” Bruce said, offering a certain sympathy. “They don’t trust me, either.”

“Ah, there we are! In the same boat, as they say.”

“Right. But actually, that’s not why I’m here,” Bruce said.

“Oh?”

Bruce tossed the newspaper on Jonathan’s desk. “Oh, that.” “Aye, oh, that!”

Jonathan shook his head. “Bruce, they’re not local girls disappearing.”

“But in the last year, two bodies have been found in the forest.”

“If you haven’t noticed, it’s a big forest,” Jonathan re minded him.

“Have you had men out searching?” Bruce demanded.

“This girl just disappeared,” Jonathan reminded him. “But yes, I’ve had men out searching.”

“Right. The last two girls who disappeared wound up in our forest. We should be looking for this latest lass. I’m willing to bet my bottom dollar that’s where she’s going to be.”

“Careful with that kind of prophecy, Bruce,” Jonathan warned, sitting back. “People will begin to think you know more about these disappearances and murders than you should. They do keep occurring when you’re actually in residence.” He raised a hand instantly. “And that doesn’t mean a damned thing. I’m your friend and I know you. I’m just telling you what someone else might think.”

“Bloody hell!” Bruce cursed, his tone hard. Jonathan’s

suggestion was an outrage, and he was both startled and angry.

“Sorry, Bruce, I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just that you’re getting obsessive. I understand, of course. But you’re not what you were, Bruce. Time has gone on. Just because you struck it lucky once in Edinburgh doesn’t make you an expert.”

Bruce prayed for patience. “I’m not claiming to be an expert. But murdered women being discovered in Tillingham Forest does bother, seriously. And it should bother the hell out of you.”

“I know my business, Bruce.”

“I’m not suggesting that you don’t.”

“How can I stop a madman from kidnapping women in other cities? If you haven’t noticed, we’ve miles of dark roads around here, not to mention that whole companies of fightin’ men used to use that forest as a refuge! And again, this girl has just been reported as missing. She’s an Irish lass, might have just taken the ferry home.”

Bruce rose. “If she isn’t found in a few days’ time, I’ll arrange for a party myself to search the forest.”

“Bruce, mind that MacNiall temper of yours, please, for the love of God!” Jonathan said. “I told you, we’ve taken a look in the forest. We’ll go back and search with greater effort if she isn’t found in the next few days.”

“Good.” Bruce rose and started for the door.

“Hey!” Jonathan called after him.

“Aye?” Bruce said, pausing.

“Did you close down your haunted castle tour for this evening?” Jonathan asked.

“Actually, no. I’m joining it,” Bruce said.

“You’re joining it?” Jonathan said, astonished. “You’ve never acted in your life!”

“Well, that’s not really true, is it? We all act every day of our lives, don’t we?” Bruce asked him lightly.

“Ach! Go figure!” Jonathan said, shaking his head. “It’s the blonde.”

“It’s the fact that they are in a rather sorry predicament,” Bruce said. “And they did do a damn good job repairing a few of the walls. See you on Monday.”

He exited the office, leaving the newspaper on Jonathan’s desk. He knew what the front page carried—a picture.

She was young, with wide eyes and long, soft brown hair. She had originally hailed from Belfast, Northern Ireland. Apparently, she’d intended to head for London. But she’d never made it that far, discovering drugs and prostitution somewhere along the way instead. She’d gotten as far as Edinburgh, and been officially reported as missing when a haphazard group of “friends” realized that they hadn’t seen her in several days.

News could die quickly, unless it was really sensational. The missing persons report on the first girl had run in the local papers and then been forgotten. Until Bruce had discovered her body in the forest while out riding, facedown, decomposed to a macabre degree.

He’d missed the notice about the second disappearance. But there had been no missing the fact of where the body had been found—Tillingham Forest. Eban had found the second victim there, months later.