Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (40 page)

"Some dogs choke on bone
slivers," said Beth, entering the room.

Ignoring Lachlan rushing to
her side and the others' horrified expressions she stopped in front
of the cold hearth, folded her arms against her chest, and met the
inspector's startled gaze with one of cool disdain. "Kindly permit
me to introduce myself."

"Be quiet!" Lachlan warned,
at which she dealt him a scolding look.

Grant stood and faced Beth.
Although his expression was one of deepening interest, his demeanor
betrayed his wariness.

"Inspector Grant was abou'
to leave," said Winston to Beth. His piercing gaze shifted to the
inspector. "Don't return wi’ou' a search warrant."

The inspector spared
Winston an impatient glance then looked at Beth and Lachlan for a
long moment before his gaze lifted to study the portrait above the
mantel. He blinked in mild confusion and scratched the nape of his
neck.

"Anither relative, are
you?" he asked her.

"I was listening in on the
conversation," she said stiffly. "I'm the dead Yank. Or
rather—"

"Beth," Lachlan
moaned.

"—I
was
the dead Yank," she completed,
undaunted by Lachlan stepping behind her and winding his arms
around her middle. He kissed the back of her head and sighed
heavily into her hair.

"Beth Staples," said Grant
in a monotone. "And you claim you
were
dead?"

Beth glanced at the others
with a mute apology. Her cheeks were flushed and her heart racing,
but she couldn't allow the inspector to keep verbally hammering at
the people she loved. Winston offered her a slight nod, telling her
he understood her motive. It helped her to again focus on the
officer.

"Answer me one question,
Inspector."

His right eyebrow shot
upward and relaxed as he nodded.

"Are you seeking answers to
assuage your curiosity, or looking for information to open another
investigation?"

He blinked in bewilderment
then smiled in an offhanded manner. "In truth, ma
curiosity."

"Beth," Lachlan murmured,
and she leaned the back of her head against his shoulder for a
second.

"All right," she said to
the inspector, "I'll tell you everything you need to know. But if
you use what I say against anyone in this house, I swear I'll rip
your heart out with my bare hands."

Grant's right hand went to
the breast of his impeccable dark blue suit. "Does wha' you have to
say involve criminal activities?"

"No."

Beth gestured for him to
sit. She escorted Lachlan back to the sofa he'd been on previously,
then briefly stopped in front of Deliah and Reith and passed them a
look that told them she wouldn't reveal their backgrounds. She took
one of the other chairs and positioned it in front of the
inspector. She sat, her knees approximately eight inches from his,
and primly folded her hands atop her lap.

For the next half hour, she
calmly told him of everything she now knew had led to her death,
what had occurred during her existence in the afterlife, and how
she and Lachlan had been given a second chance.

Lastly, she told him about
the twins, ending her revelation with, "So you see, Inspector
Grant, we haven't been secretive without just cause. All Lachlan
and I want is to live a relatively normal life with our
children."

Silence stretched on for an
inordinately long time. The inspector's gaze flitted repeatedly to
each of the guarded expressions then he released a burst of
laughter.

"You almaist had me, miss,"
he said, wagging a finger at Beth. Hardness crept into the lines of
his face as he straightened his shoulders and crammed the pad into
the breast pocket of his shirt. He stood and cast the group a scowl
before cutting his gaze to Beth.

"I'm retirin’ in four
months, but tha's four months I'll be visitin’ you people till I
get to the truth. You've a fine imagination, Miss-Whoever-You-Are.
Perhaps you should be pennin’ stories for one o' the pulp
publishers."

He brusquely headed for the
hall door, but released a cry of alarm when something whizzed past
him and blocked his path. He staggered backward, a hand to his
brow, and stared in horrified-fascination at the woman hovering in
front of the doorway, her wings beating the air so swiftly, they
were nearly invisible.

Nearly, but not
quite.

He plopped back onto the
chair he'd been using, his eyes transfixed on Deliah as she flew
closer and then settled soundlessly on her bare feet. Her wings
fluttered to a stop and she folded her arms against her middle as
she eyed him with an unmistakable challenge to deny what he was
seeing.

"I be Deliah, princess o'
the Kingdom Faerie. Twas I who helped Lachlan and Beth return to
the livin’."

A strangled laugh escaped
Grant.

Lachlan rose and approached
the inspector, positioning himself alongside Deliah. "In August o'
nineteen eighty-eight, you came wi' a womon to this
house."

The inspector's eyes
narrowed and he nodded. "Ma wife. She died soon efter o'
cancer."

"You tried to take ma
picture, but I wouldna allow yer camera to work."

Grant unsteadily rose to
his feet, his face blanched, his eyes misting with tears. "It is
you," he murmured.

"Aye. Wha' ma Beth told you
is the truth. Horatio was invented to protect ma return, and Beth
was hidden to protect her and our children."

Grant loosened his tie,
then the top two buttons of his shirt. "How...how the hell have you
kept this secret? Rebirth and fairies." His gaze shifted to Reith,
who shrugged.

"Aye, I be a fairy
prince."

"King," Deliah corrected,
smiling at him adoringly.

"Wha'?" asked Lachlan,
bewildered. "King?"

Reith stood and shifted on
his feet, chagrined at the attention he was receiving. "Dethroned
and de-winged, for the time." He smiled ruefully at the inspector.
"Ma wife. She has a temper."

The inspector walked around
to the back of the chair and gripped its top so fiercely that the
ruddy color of his knuckles turned white. He made two attempts to
speak, failed, then managed, "I knew there was somethin’ more no
canny goin’ on here, but this...."

He tried to smile, and
again failed. "Ma mither-in-law used to swear she'd seen fairy
circles in her yard, and I thought her daft. And ma wife, Kathy,
God rest her soul, would say to me, 'Tis better to believe in fairy
circles than believe in nothin’ a’tall'. If only they were here to
see you."

"Now that you know
everything," said Winston, "wha' do you plan to do wi' the
information?"

Grant shrugged. "Take it to
ma grave."

Several sighs of relief
were heard.

"But I can’t guarantee
anither officer won’t get curious in the future. There's a lot o'
unanswered questions involvin’ this house." He looked at Lachlan
dazedly. "If I were you, I'd take ma family and go somewhere ye're
no' known. But you'll need papers."

"I'm taking care o' tha',"
said Winston, surprised he'd offered the information.

"Good. Good." The
inspector's head bobbed as he fell thoughtfully silent for a time.
Then he looked at Beth. "You need to have tha' headstone removed
and the...kist. Don’t leave any evidence you died,
lass."

Lachlan nodded. "Aye, we
should remove them. Fegs, so much to think abou'." He acknowledged
Grant's shaken look and added, "Tis a lot to digest, I
know."

"Aye. Aye, it
is."

"Would you like a cup of
coffee, Inspector Grant?" asked Laura, now feeling sorry for the
man.

With a strained grin, he
shook his head. "Thank you, but I don’t think ma stomach would keep
it down."

"How long will the cellar
be cordoned off?" asked Roan.

"It can be taken down now.
I've no doubt the Phantom murdered Mr. Miles, or tha' the killer's
daith was anythin’ mair than an accident."

"Thank God," Roan muttered,
and raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. "The sooner
tha' mess is cleaned up down there, the better I'll
sleep."

"Me, too," said Laura. "At
least Miles hasn't been seen since—" She clamped a hand over her
mouth and winced at her own stupidity.

"Since when?" asked
Grant.

"Miles' spirit was here for
a while," said Lachlan wryly, "but he hasna been seen since the
Phantom's death."

"Weel, I think I've heard
all I can take for one day." The inspector laughed. He sobered and
added, "I'm sorry I've been a royal pain. Since ma wife died, I
haven’t had much to keep ma mind busy. Crossmichael's a quiet
place. No' much happenin’."

"But you do understand why
we've had to do some creative juggling to protect ourselves?" asked
Beth.

"I do. You're from
Washington State, tha' right?"

"Yes. Kennewick,
Washington."

The inspector sighed.
"Might be best if you and yers head for the States."

"Lachlan and I have been
discussing the possibility."

Grant nodded and glanced at
Roan and Winston. "I'll take ma leave now. If you need anythin’,
feel free to call on me. I'll do ma best to discourage any further
investigation into the occupants here. But as I said, get rid o’
Miss Staples' kist and headstone. If any questions are asked, play
dumb. That's the best advice I can offer."

Beth stood and extended a
hand to the inspector. He hesitantly clasped it. "Thank
you."

"Thank
you."
He laughed a bit shyly, and his
eyes took on a sparkle as he regarded Beth. "Wha' do you think o'
Scotland?"

"I hate to leave. If you
ever come to the States, give us a call. I'm in the phone
book."

"That's very kind o' you."
He walked around the chair and clapped his hands against his small
paunch. "I best be leavin’. I came on ma free time, but I should be
checkin’ in, soon." A genuine smile youthened his face as he took a
long look at the others in the room, lingering lastly on Deliah's
serene features. "I can’t thank you enough for sharin’ the truth
wi' me. Miss Deliah, I feel as if I've been given a second chance,
too. I believed in fairies as a very young lad, but grew dour as I
got older."

"Whenever ye feel a dour
moment, Inspector, feel free to have a visit wi' me," she said with
a smile.

Roan asked Grant, "Do you
like to fish?"

"Very fond o' the sport,
aye."

"Then let's plan to make a
day o' it when the weather warms up a bit."

The inspector beamed.
"Whenever you say, Mr. Ingliss. Good day, all. Ma thoughts will be
wi' you."

Everyone in the parlor
remained silent until they heard the front doors open and close.
Deliah continued to stare down the hall, a wistful expression on
her face. "He be a lonely mon." Her gaze shifted to Roan. "Twas
kind o' ye to offer to take him fishin’. Wha' be
fishin’?"

Laughing, Winston closed
the distance and drew her into his arms. "It's using a rod and a
hook to catch fish."

"For wha'
purpose?"

"Ta eat, and for
sport."

She looked aghast. "Ye hook
the poor wee things?"

"They don't feel it,"
Winston assured. He turned his attention to Beth and Lachlan. "I'm
going into town to call Grayson. If he can meet us, Deliah and I
should drive to Ayr and pick up the identification papers he's made
for you. He's probably wondering wha' happened to us when we didn't
meet him in Edinburgh. The sooner we get yer paperwork, Lachlan,
the sooner we can arrange the wedding and get you both and the
twins away from here."

"Wha' abou' Taryn?" asked
Deliah.

"Wha' abou' her?" Winston
volleyed hesitantly.

Deliah gave each of the men
a measuring look before addressing Winston, "We know o' yer talks
to go efter her."

"How can you?"

"Yer mindshield lowers when
ye sleep."

Astonished, he gasped. "You
invaded ma mind? While I slept? Then told the women?"

"Aye," she said proudly. "I
be a weed, no' a fragile flower."

"A weed?" Winston muttered,
glancing at Beth and Laura for an explanation. None
came.

"Fegs," said Lachlan,
shifting uncomfortably when Beth's challenging gaze met his. "Aye,
we talked abou' goin’ efter her."

"Tha's ma responsibility,"
said Roan and looked at Laura apologetically. "I had planned to
bring it up to you efter the weddin’."

It took a moment before she
could ease her pique and say, "If she really is in danger, we
shouldn't wait." She sighed in resignation. "Besides, she should be
here for the wedding. I don't want your mind on anything but us
during the ceremony."

With a loving smile, Roan
walked up to her and gently took her into his arms. "I love you. I
know how much the wedding means to you. To postpone it for ma
sister is verra generous."