Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series) (22 page)

“So I keep hearing,” I muttered as I went to the kitchen to refill the coffee cups. Upon my return, I found Daniel standing in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames, a distant expression on his face.

“This is the last of the coffee,” I said and smiled to lighten the fact that I’d subtly let him know it was time for him to end his impromptu visit.

He guzzled the brew, handed the cup to me, and smiled. His handsome features grew more so when he offered that gorgeous grin. I caught myself wondering what it would be like to kiss him and stopped short at the answer. Hell, not so long ago I’d thought the same about Cullen, and couldn’t fathom what brought these thoughts to light. There was a dragon to find, others to protect at all costs, and a book to read. I banished any romantic wanderings that might wiggle into my consciousness and walked Daniel to the door. He turned and brushed my cheek with his knuckles, wished me a good night, and walked down the driveway in the pouring rain, whistling softly as he went. Bad weather didn’t seem to bother him whatsoever.

Alone again, I reached for my iPad and perused the Internet in search of Cullen Vaughn and his background. I hit a brick wall so many times I’d begun to think the man didn’t exist. As far as I could tell, the man wasn’t listed anywhere on the planet. If I couldn’t find him through Google, chances were, he didn’t exist, though I knew he did. I blew a hefty sigh and sat back, thinking hard.

He’d given me a business card when I’d first arrived. I dug through my handbag in search of it and found the crumpled card at the bottom of my bag. I straightened its edges, studied the print, and then entered the name of his business into the search engine. Pay dirt.

His company, partners, and their names, scrolled up the screen as I dragged my finger upward, reading fast as I went. Though he didn’t go by the name Cullen Vaughn, but as O’Cuilinn and pronounced Cullen, it seemed Cullen was a finder of things, the same as my father. The funny thing was, being not so funny at all, his main interest lay in dragon statues, their whereabouts, who collected them, and those clients he and his team worked with.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I said aloud. “So much for being an ally.” I flung the iPad aside and swore as I walked the floor.

His number rang several times while I waited for him to answer. Eventually, he answered the phone in a terse voice. “I’m a wee bit busy at the moment, this had better be good,” he complained.

I could hear angry voices in the background. “Where are you and what’s going on?”

“None of your concern, what do you want?” Cullen demanded shortly.

“Nothing that you need worry about. I was checking in, that’s all,” I lied.

“You are such a liar. Try again,” he said impatiently. A crash that sounded like all hell had broken loose was quickly muffled.

I wondered if he’d put his hand over the phone to soften the noise.

“We’ll talk in the morning, apparently you have your hands full,” I replied and hung up.

Back on the iPad, I searched each name in the partnership, saw every man’s photo and realized they were brutes, if nothing else. They all looked tough and terrifying. If they sought dragons, they might be more than adventurers. All of them appeared to be Highlanders.

Alignment with savage men such as these was more than I’d bargained for, and I hoped I’d never have to deal with them. Cullen was more than enough to fill my plate, and now I didn’t trust him. Hell, who could I trust?

Faces of those I’d dealt with since my arrival at Dragon Hill unfurled in my mind like a scroll of parchment. Evan and Daniel appeared trustworthy, but what did I truly know about them other than the work Evan had done for Gran? There was Samuel Smythe, my father, my uncle and aunt, and Mrs. Douglas. Worth my trust? Mrs. Douglas seemed to be the only person without an agenda. She’d been a loyal employee and a long time friend where Gran was concerned, and for that, I was grateful. Yeah, she was the best of the lot, but how could she help me, and why wouldn’t she?

The Internet held no complaints on Evan and Daniel Cairn. I found no bizarre behavior, no arrests, nothing of major importance at all. They had sound reputations as grounds men, were highly thought of, and even had a website where they could strut their stuff, except they didn’t. I smiled while staring at the father and son duo. Their smiles were uncanny, as if they’d been cut and pasted from one to the other.

I smiled, wondered why they were so tightlipped over the bones, though I suspected they knew who the dead woman was, and put it down to honor in keeping secrets. Then I moved on to Samuel Smythe, whose reputation gave me reason to wonder why Gran had retained his services. Complaints, listed by star ratings followed by mean words, showed the man in a different light altogether. His business dealings weren’t up to snuff as other law firms in the area were, so why had Gran employed his services? Wasn’t she aware of his reputation? Maybe she just didn’t care, as long as he did what she asked. Tired of thinking of things I couldn’t ask Gran, I drew a deep breath, let it out, and moved on.

If my staff wasn’t willing to warn me of this man’s reputation, then I’d find things out for myself. I opened a message board to ask about the man and his client list, but after reading the remarks left by complainants, I figured the pub in town would be the best place to start my hunt for the nitty-gritty. My aunt and uncle were next in line. I found more stuff on them than I’d thought possible. Uncle Charles was an antique collector, like others in our family had been before him, though from what I read, he didn’t seem to have much to offer in the way of antiques. On the other hand, Aunt Elizabeth was well-known in her work circles, she had an outstanding reputation for her work with The Tollard Group, an art collaborative, that spanned twenty-five years employment. Elizabeth headed the acquisitions department. Once on the official site, I selected their list of clients. I’d browsed the various groups posted and stopped cold when Cullen’s company popped up on the screen.

An abrupt knock on the door startled me. I peered out the window, saw Cullen’s car in the yard and wondered why I hadn’t heard him drive up. My earlier call must have bothered him if he was here at this late hour.

I stared through the glass panes as he stared back. “Lass, are you going to open the door, or what?”

Sliding the bolt back, I let him in. “You’re out late,” I remarked sardonically.

His expression grim, he said, “You sounded upset, so tell me what’s on your mind.”

I tipped my head to the side a bit, studied him, and asked, “What the heck was going on that you couldn’t take my call?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

I nodded at his evasiveness, knew better than to push him for a better answer and said, “You never mentioned what business you were in, so imagine my surprise when I found you were a
finder of things
, like my father. You entered Gran’s life to gather information on her dragons. While you were at it, did you poison her?”

His brows rose and then drew together marking a solid line above his deep blue eyes. “What are you going on about? I would never have poisoned Essie.”

“Try again,” I said coldly.

His eyes turned an icy blue as I used his own words against him, the way he’d used them on me when dissatisfied with an answer.

“I never lied about what I do for a living. My company is above reproach, we’re not thieves or miscreants. Surely you know that by now.”

“Why should I believe you? You’ve spent enough time leaving me with doubts over who is worthy of my trust, and that includes my father. Why, I wonder?”

“Because your father works for dishonest people, which would be the government, and who can’t be trusted on any level, you should ask him to explain his job, to tell you why he’s working for them. I don’t apologize for what I am, and I intend to protect you and the dragons, at any cost.”

“Your company is involved with the one my aunt works for, The Tollard Group. How do you explain that?” I went on to say how I’d found the company listed and where.

“I wasn’t aware she worked for them. In fact, I’d never met her before Essie passed on, though I had met Charles.” He sighed and shook his head in what I took as disgust.

I wondered how their meeting had taken place and what his first impression of my greedy uncle had been. “You weren’t impressed, huh?” I snickered and asked, “When did you two meet?”

“Not by a long stretch. Charles is greedy, self-centered, and can be quite egotistical. He’s also connected to powerful people, but I’m sure you knew that.”

I stared at him and said, “No, I didn’t. We haven’t kept in touch over the years, but then, mine isn’t a warm and cuddly family. He’s been adamant over my getting rid of the dragons. It’s annoying as hell, and now I know why he’s refused to let up on the subject. I believe you’re all connected in one way or another. It’s as if my dragons and I are alone on an island, fighting off sharks like you.”

I’d clasped the iPad to my chest and now tossed it onto the sofa. The link to the list on the Tollard Group still lay open. Slowly, I circled the room, picked up a picture here and there and considered my options. Worried over their safety, I turned to the dragons before I asked Cullen, “What would you say if I offered the dragons to a museum?”

In a flat tone, he answered calmly, “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Think again. I might just do that. The book is useless, I can’t read the damn thing, there’s no key to the dragons, and to be frank, only Drake is of concern to me.”

He started across the room, stopped suddenly, and said with a shrug, “I think you need some rest, a good night’s sleep might put you in a better frame of mind. Right now you’re all over the place with worry over the dragons. Your emotions and imagination have overtaken reason, and topped with Essie’s death, it’s a lot for you to handle.” He turned, said goodnight, and walked out the door, letting it slam behind him.

I gaped at the space where he’d stood and insisted I’d lost control of myself. I raced after him, caught his arm as he reached for his car door, and swung him about.

“What the hell are you talking about? I am not out of control, I’m confused and appalled by all the machinations going on with everyone involved in this situation. Just once, I’d like people to be honest about themselves and their wants. My staff seems to be more reliable than the rest of you.”

He barked a laugh and shook his head. “Linty girl, everyone has an agenda, make no mistake in that.”

My hands on my hips, I snapped, “Meaning?”

“Do you think I don’t know Daniel was here tonight? That he put ideas into your head? Why else would you be on such a rant?”

My gut tightened as I listened to him. He knew? How did he know? Why did he care?

As though he read my mind, he said with a soft warning in his voice, “I’m aware of everything that happens here, and to you. I refuse to allow you to end up as Essie has. We will get to the bottom of her death, make no mistake about that, lass. It is what’s driving you, more so than the safety of your dragons. I can see it in your face. Trust me, no one else, not even Drake.” He pulled me to him, bent his head, and kissed me deeply.

My anger faded into nothingness as his lips melded with mine. I stepped in close, pressed my body against his. The smell of him invaded every speck of my being and weakened my knees. I’d have given anything for this moment to last. When he let go of me and stared into my eyes, I knew all was lost, that he would bend me to his will, and there was naught I could or would do to stop him. Even if I fought against my feelings, he’d ultimately win the battle.

Chapter 17

Storms moved into the Highlands, leaving little doubt of Mother Nature’s ability to taunt us, to leave us wishful for the warm, sunny days of summer. Though, in the Highlands, that season didn’t reach the hot temperatures of Boston. Here, the wind was constant, the smell of heather sweet, and more often than not, the chill would be reason enough to don a sweater.

A continual flow of work came my way in the weeks that followed my disagreements with Cullen, my father, and uncle. Cullen had done his bit in dragon-sitting while I met a client in Aberdeen, and I realized he was the only person I really trusted. There were no unexpected visits from the gaunts, the watcher in the woods hadn’t presented himself or been noticed by me, and I wondered if Daniel had been the observer from beyond the tree line.

My father no longer hung about, and Uncle Charles had returned to London on business. My fear was whether or not they’d show up without notice. After we’d argued the last time and I’d shown them out, neither man had paid me another visit, but both had called to say goodbye. Relief had flooded me at the idea of not having to listen to them nag me, day after day, over the dragons. It had gotten old, real fast.

The phone rang as I perused the book and wondered how to read it. Most of the time, I came away from the effort lightheaded, dismayed, and confused. The book secured on the shelf, I answered the call.

“Linty Dragon,” I said cheerfully.

“I’ll be by later to collect you,” Cullen said. “We have a few things to take care of. Would Mrs. Douglas stay with the dragons?”

Curious over what those
things
consisted of, I said, “Wait, I’ll ask.” I called out to Mrs. Douglas, requested she stay late and when she agreed, I confirmed it with Cullen.

“Where are we going and what
things
?”

“You’ll see. Be ready in an hour, casual dress.” He hung up.

Excitement sped along my nerves at the prospect of getting away for a while. The house could be a place of comfort, but also a prison. The only time I’d been free, other than the trip to Aberdeen, was for an afternoon at the local pub.

The memory played like a film in my head as I placed the phone in the charger.

Conversations had ceased upon my entry to the quaint tavern. I had smiled and greeted those who stared openly and ignored the many sly glances, followed by whispers.

The barkeep, by the name of Mackenzie, served me a glass of ale and took my lunch order. Once I’d settled at a table next to the latticed windows at the front of the tavern, he’d brought the sandwich over and asked if all was well at Dragon Hill. I could feel stares of curious town folk, and was sure the ears of many had perked up at the question. They waited in silence, straining to hear my answer.