ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense) (27 page)

***

Angus called out to the figure high above him, but knew he was wasting his breath as his cry was torn away by the vicious wind. He dug in and climbed, bent against the force which tore and buffeted against his body. He stopped and scanned the summit; the figure above was almost obscured but still exuded menace. Angus shook his head, blinking to clear snow from his eyelashes. It wasn’t Cassandra. It was too tall. Sweat soaked his body, and he felt it freeze as the wind and the snow whipped together in one concentrated blast of fury.

His lungs seared with pain, as he struck out once more. He had to reach
him
, before he reached
her
. Susan’s prophecy and warning was coming true. She said she feared this would happen. The devil had
ruined her long ago, and now he was taking his revenge on her sister. Angus stumbled forward, gaining one more foothold, one more foot in height, gasping for breath, determination flooding through him.

Four hundred metres became three hundred…one hundred. The snow covered his shoulders, and Angus was enfolded in a swirling haze of white sound as he staggered to the top.

Sinking to his knees, Angus looked round the thin plateau. The snow hissed down on the rocks, with a lethal ferocity covering everything within its path. It was over a foot deep up there, and as he scanned the area, he realised he was quite alone. Where had the figure gone?

Regaining his breath, Angus stood up and crunched through the snow, looking for footprints. He couldn’t believe how quickly the conditions had deteriorated. Within seconds, he was in a complete white-out from low cloud and falling snow. The wind was as strong as ever as it blew in his face, icy particles stinging against his cheeks and nose, making his eyes stream with cold. He stood still as he made a mental note of where he reckoned he was on the mountainside. If he walked too far ahead, he was in danger of slipping over the side. The north face was full of crevices, and there were always a few fatalities in most winters. Deciding he was in no immediate danger, Angus crept further across the flat terrain until he came across a multitude of tracks in the snow. Already the footprints were being obliterated, and he wasn’t sure which way they were going. He felt even more frustrated not knowing which to follow. Which way had the watcher gone?

Angus moved across the ground, keeping his eye on the tracks, as well as listening keenly. If he was right in his guesswork, the watcher could be anywhere; if he was attacked, Cassandra would be alone and at his mercy. The wind screamed around his ears as he covered the hilltop, and he heard a muffled sound. At first, he wondered if he imagined it. He stayed where he was, scarcely breathing. When he heard a sob, so soft and indistinct, his heart leapt. Cassandra! It had to be her.

Angus moved through the snowdrifts, cold and wet creeping over the top of his boots. He didn’t dare call out, in case the watcher was still near, and then he found her.

‘Cassandra,’ he whispered and put out a hand. She jerked under his touch and swivelled round. He saw her eyes wide with terror, her face pale and tear-stained, and her body shaking. Still sobbing, she threw herself into his arms, and Angus held her to him as if he would never let her go.

Cassandra clung to Angus, and neither uttered a word. Eventually, her shivering stopped. She groaned and he clutched her arm. With a gentle hand, he brushed snow from her fringe which had escaped from beneath her hood. Her hair was wet and stuck to her forehead. He smiled. “Thank God I’ve found you, mo guradh milis.”

Her wide eyes stared up into his, and he saw how white her face had become.

“What is it? What’s happened to your arm,” he said, realising she was holding herself stiffly.

“I think I’ve broken it, but that’s not all. Angus, it’s awful. I’ve found Julian. He’s dead.”

He hugged her more tenderly as she told him in a faltering voice everything that had happened and what she had seen. Once she finished, he gently held her away from him. He knew this part wasn’t going to be easy.

“Sweetheart, can you remember where you left him? Could you find your way back to the cave? I can take a look at your arm there…you know I ought to check on Julian too. You might be wrong, he could be just injured. ” Cassandra shuddered and shook her head, and he wondered if he was asking too much.

“It’s too dangerous to try and get off this mountain in these conditions. We could fall down a fissure or get lost. Cassandra, listen to me. I know this area, and honestly, we need to lay up somewhere until things get better. Just for a while, it can’t keep up at this rate for much longer.”

“But what if he’s still there? In the cave?”

Angus’s mouth tightened, and he decided it was better she should know he was armed. He reached into his coat pocket and watched her eyes widen when she saw him withdraw a knife. “I have this, my sgian-dubh. And Cassandra, don’t worry, I know how to use it.”

Chapter 32 On Devil’s Brae

They walked in the direction from which Cassandra reckoned she had come. There were indentations in the snow leading to a tall rock face.

“Look,” Angus said, bending down and tracing an outline in the snow. “If these are your prints then these must be his. I believe he’s left the cave—they’re going towards the other side of the hill.” As he spoke, there was a momentary lull in the wind and a slight lifting of the cloud. Cassandra followed where his finger was pointing and saw he was right. There was a track leading down towards the second valley.

“This is our chance. We’ll nip in the cave, and I’ll check out Julian. If you don’t want to come in all the way, I can leave you in the tunnel where you hid. I’m sorry, Cassandra, but we have to be sure.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I know,” she whispered. “You have to see, too, before we tell the police.” She suddenly swayed and Angus reached out to steady her. “Sorry, I feel a bit sick.”

“I still want to take a look at your shoulder. I don’t think you’ve broken it. Maybe it’s come out of its socket. If it has—and you can trust me—I’ll fix it.”

Cassandra threw him a wary look. “You mean shove it back in place? I’m not sure I’m up to that. Have you done it before?”

“I have and I’d rather not use the term ‘shove’. I can rotate it back…gently. You just have to trust me. I used to play rugby, and it was a common occurrence on the rugger field.”

“Do I have a choice?” She could feel sweat building and trickling between her shoulder blades as she thought of what he was planning.

He gave her a grin. “No. Stop being a baby. Come on, the snow’s started again. Let’s get in and shelter whilst we can see where we’re going.”

They found the cleft in the rock minutes later, and Cassandra voiced her question. “Why didn’t they found it yesterday? It’s awful. We must have passed this when we were searching.”

“Yes, but look how small the opening is, and these loose boulders create good camouflage. There are so many cracks and fissures around here. I suspect Julian got lucky when he crawled down it, and don’t forget, you fell down a tunnel, which must be further round the hill.”

“I suppose so,” she said in a miserable voice. Angus’s explanation didn’t console her. Julian had been lost, and they discovered him too late. She knew he was dead.

Together, they moved towards the opening and bent down. “I’ll go first if you like. I have a pencil-light on my key ring…the beam’s pretty strong.”

“I still have my matches. We’ll find some dry twigs we can light. Okay, you start and I’ll follow. It gets bigger a few feet in, and we’ll be able to stand upright.”

Inside the tunnel, Cassandra smelt the familiar dankness of the place: earthy and vegetal. She tried hard not to start shaking again and kept as close to Angus as she could. She knew what they were going to find so she concentrated on other things. The wind outside was as noisy as ever, with no sign of abating, but the further in they walked, she realised, the quieter it became. Within minutes, they entered Julian’s chamber of death.

Angus slowly walked towards the body. Cassandra moved to his side and peered round before he could stop her. A gory sight met her eyes. Apart from the cut and torn face, she saw his leg had been completely severed. Angus whirled round and caught her before she fell. “Easy, lassie.”

Cassandra stared and whimpered in pain. “Dear God, what type of monster would return and mutilate a body?”

***

“Like I said, you’re lucky it’s only dislocated. Now hold still. You can look away, if you prefer.”

With a gentle but firm hand, Angus rotated her arm. Cassandra felt fresh sweat break out onto her forehead and thought she was going to pass out or be sick. In fact, she wished she could: anything to stop the torture. She gave a shriek of agony as she felt something move in her shoulder.

“Well done, mo guradh milis. It’s gone back. You’ll be sore for some weeks, but at least the real pain will have gone.”

She leant back against the rocky wall as wave of nausea washed over her. Could the day get any worse?

“I’m going to go and take a look outside. You’ll be quite safe here, and I won’t be a minute. If it looks good, I suggest we see if we can descend the hill into Inverdarroch. We need to contact the police, and I doubt my mobile will work inside the mountain.”

Angus made sure she had enough kindling around her to keep their small fire going before he set off. Cassandra watched the flickering flames, listening to his retreating footsteps, muffled by the passage floor. She cast a look around the smaller cavern they had moved to and stared at the darkness beyond. It wasn’t hard to imagine figures moving in the murky gloom, ghostly apparitions conjured up by the smoke and fire. She willed herself to stop from screaming out in panic and waited for his return.

After what seemed like hours, she heard footsteps coming towards her. What if the monster had been waiting? What if he attacked and killed Angus? What if—? Scared to death, Cassandra stood up and retreated into the shadows, trembling all over.

“Cassandra, it’s me,” he called.

She gave a cry and rushed into his arms. “Please don’t leave me again,” she sobbed.

Angus laughed and traced a finger over her lips. “I promise. Come on and sit down by the fire. It may be small, but it’s warm and comforting. I’m sorry, but we can’t leave yet.”

Disappointed, Cassandra allowed him to lead her back to the fire. “You must hate me for bringing you into all this,” she said. “It’s my entire fault.”

Angus stared at her with his mouth open. “Don’t be daft. Nothing’s your fault. If anything, I think I may be to blame.”

She shot him a look. “Why?”

“I think it’s time we had a talk and compared notes.”

She nodded and settled back, leaning against him for warmth. Cassandra began first. She told him all of it, every intolerable detail. She began with Susan’s visit to her in Liverpool and her surprise about her sister’s sculpture commission; how she had photographed and sketched Natalie; then right up to Susan’s death; her first visit to Inverdarroch and subsequent events. At first, Cassandra couldn’t get her words out fast enough, and everything came out as an incoherent babble. She wanted to get it all off her chest, out of her head, and didn’t hide a thing.

Angus sat, stroking her hair and listened without interrupting. In the middle of it she moved to relieve the cramp in her legs and felt something hard in his pocket. “Ow! What’s that,” she demanded.

Angus fished around and produced a hip flask. “Just the job. I forgot I still had it in there. Fancy a wee dram?”

The whisky fortified them; there was something so normal in taking a sip from the flask. Cassandra resumed her bizarre tale, going over events already shared with Angus. But this time, she left nothing out, including the offer on her place, Donald’s response to her refusal to sell, and Mrs Campbell’s insinuating remarks about Susan’s morals. She listed every time she was stalked on the hills, the instances she saw the figure, the missing painting, and the glaring face staring at her from the wood near her cottage. She even mentioned the decapitated hare lying on her doorstep all those months ago after she first arrived. Talking about Bailey was difficult, and she found keeping her tears at bay hard. She hurriedly gave Angus the fresh details before switching to other incidents.

“Elizabeth was sympathetic but thought I was affected by loneliness and fear.”

“And I suspect guilt played a part, too.”

“Guilt?” she echoed.

“Yes, by not helping Susan more. After the little girl’s death, she fled back here. I didn’t know all the details, but she did tell me some things when she returned. It all adds up now.”

“Oh.” She was surprised. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

Angus asked her lots of questions about her childhood, her parents, and her siblings.

Cassandra sat up and looked at him in shock. “You know about that?”

He stroked his chin. “Maybe some things. It depends on what you’re talking about now. I don’t want to hurt you, tread where I shouldn’t.”

She looked down at her hands clasped round her knees. Her shoulder throbbed, and she would have loved to be tucked up at home in bed. She stole a look at his profile and wondered if he knew how she really felt. He had called her sweetheart and shown such tenderness, but she remembered Julian telling her that he had a wife.

She thought about Susan and the bombshell she dropped just before she returned to Inverdarroch. At first, Cassandra hadn’t believed her, she didn’t want to God dammit! Her parents and brother how could they? She didn’t want to talk about that…yet.

“I think it’s crucial you carry on talking,” Angus said, giving her a small smile of encouragement. “There’s somebody out there who’s gone to a lot of trouble to frighten you and has committed murder. Whether he would have killed you too is another matter. But there’s definitely some kind of monster prowling around. And have you considered this? It’s not just you he’s after. The watcher or devil monster or whatever you think he is, he did that to Julian…and if any human being could do that, then…

She gulped and searched his eyes. She wanted to trust him. “He’s mad, isn’t he?”

“Yes. I’m sorry sweetheart, but he’s completely mad.”

Cassandra gave a quivering sigh. “What are we going to do?”

His arms tightened around her. “Stay here until the weather dies down. Hopefully, we’ll be able to move soon. Get some sleep, while I keep watch.”

Cassandra didn’t think she had a hope in hell of sleeping, but she must have dozed, because the next thing she knew, Angus was gently laying her down on the floor and tiptoeing towards the passage. “Don’t go, please!”

He turned and hurried back to her side. “I’m going to check again. Sorry, I thought you were fast asleep.”

“I was. Be quick
please
.”

This time he was back within a minute. “The wind has died down, and although it’s completely dark, I believe we can walk down if we’re careful. We have to go slowly, though, and make sure you stay close. Better still, hold onto my belt. That way I won’t lose you in the dark.”

It took them nearly two hours to cover what normally took twenty minutes, and by the time they neared the hamlet, Cassandra was virtually fainting with fatigue. Pain and shock was taking its toll, and the thought of her cottage was almost too much. To make matters worse, the snow was falling even thicker than before, and with the increased velocity of the wind, it had turned into a full blizzard. Dimly, she knew if it hadn’t been for Angus, she would never have found her way home.

“Let’s get you home. I’m sure it’s not far now.” Angus said as they limped through the forest. Under the canopy of pine, the snowfall lessened, but the sound of the wind howling through the trees was spooky. Ten minutes later they cleared the wood and through the slanting snow they could make out the outline of the roof of Cassandra’s cottage. With relief, they fell through the doorway and lay panting in a heap on the floor, clumps of icy snow all around them.

“What now?” she asked.

“We’re going to keep all the doors locked and ring the police. But let’s get a fire going first. Julian’s dead, and sadly, there’s nothing we can do for him, but
we’re
in danger of frostbite. Bugger! It looks like the electricity’s off. The lines must be down. I’m not surprised.”

She knelt on the floor rubbing her shoulder and wincing. Noticing her pain, Angus immediately stooped down, scooped her up in his arms and took her over to the settee. “Where are your painkillers? Let’s get some down you before you pass out.”

“They’re in my bedroom in the bedside cupboard drawer. It’s the first door you come to. You know, I’ve never thanked you for rescuing me. And you don’t know how good it is to talk to someone else about all this.”

“Right. I’ll get some after I’ve lit some candles. Have you still got those matches? And you’re right about being able to talk to someone else.” He paused, before leaning forward and tilting her chin. “You’re not alone now, Cassandra. Hopefully, whoever is out there knows you’re with me, and nobody is going to attack you or do anything, knowing they’re outnumbered.” There was a comforting glow as he lit all the candles dotted around the room. His words reassured her, too.