ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense) (29 page)

“They’re fine. Julian made sure we had any rotten wood removed. Surely he wouldn’t smash them too?”

Angus stood up and moved towards the windows hidden behind the curtains. He lifted one corner and examined the frame.

“He’ll still be out there,” she moaned, her eyes following his moves.

“Undoubtedly…”

“Angus, it’s still snowing a blizzard and it’s pitch-black outside. He’ll have the advantage.”

“Maybe not. If I could get to Donald’s place. Two men against one should be a good bet. I’d raise the Campbells, but I doubt they’d bother turning out on a night like this.”

“
Donald
?”

“Aye. You may not like him, but he’s trustworthy. He’s not your problem, I’m sure of it.”

“Angus, I really don’t want you to go...I don’t think I can stand it. What if anything happens to one of us? Please. I don’t think I can cope with the thought of you…oh my love.” She stood up, rushed across the room, and held onto his arm. “I’m sorry. I know what you said before. But apart from being alone again with all this terrifying madness around me, I want you safe.” Tears rolled down her face, and she shuddered when his arm snaked round her waist, drawing her close.

“Damn. Why did I ever come here? Why didn’t I just bury Susan and sell this goddam awful place. Damn the whole lot living in this godforsaken hellhole. The Campbells, Fiona, Donald. I hate them all. Shit. I’ve had enough.”

Angus hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. He murmured against her skin. “They’re only human and trying to live their lives. We all have our share of problems, Cassandra. Okay, mo guradh milis, I’ll leave it for a while. Maybe once it begins to get light, we’ll make a dash for it together.”

Cassandra knew he sensed her terror and listened to her pleas. She nodded her agreement when he outlined a rudimentary plan.

“When it’s light, we’ll call on the others. I know, I know,” he shushed her protests down. “They haven’t proved very helpful to you all year, but someone will help, and it’s better than trying on our own. We’ll get the bastard.”

He led her back to the fire and threw another couple of stout logs onto the embers. The sudden rush of light and flame made the room seem more cheerful, despite the thought of the gruesome human remains lying somewhere in Cassandra’s second bedroom. She vowed that if they got out of this nightmare, the first thing she would do would be to get on to her solicitor and sell Shadow Vale.

Sitting huddled together on the hearth rug, they listened to the row outside. The slanting snow spat against the windows while flakes fell hissing onto the burning fire. Cassandra cast huge frightened eyes around the shadowed room and each time the wind gust or she heard a creak on the stairs, she shook. Angus was no better, and as she shuddered against his body, she knew by the way he fingered the knife lying on his lap he was just as afraid.

As the night dragged on, Cassandra mentioned how the murderer must have been in her cottage. “He removed my painting and somehow got into my barn. He must have known there was paint to throw around, and then he set light to my clothes. Oh God, what if he has a key?” Her eyes looked huge and black against her ashen face.

She felt Angus stiffen against her. “Are you sure you didn’t forget to lock up sometimes? Could he have got in another way? The upstairs windows are decrepit…”

Cassandra felt a pall of despair settle around her. She was sure she knew the answer. “No. I always make sure the doors are locked and bolted. Don’t forget I come from Liverpool. There are plenty of break-ins there. And as for the windows, they’re far too small for a man to get through.”

“You say ‘he’. Have you seen his features?”

“No, but I‘d know him by his gestures, by his stance. There’s something about his mannerisms which remind me of someone. He also wore a hat or a scarf wrapped round his face, and his clothes were always dark.”

Angus exhaled. “He was always the same?”

“Yes. One thing…he must be athletic, as he always seemed to be one step ahead of me. When I tried to keep up, he gave me the slip, as if he was playing with me…waiting for the right moment to pounce.”

“He must be strong to carry part of Julian down with him from the mountain and through all the deep snow. A leg is a heavy item, Cassandra, though I hate mentioning it.”

“Ugh. Please don’t.”

“Cassandra, we have to discuss who it might be. We can’t put it off any longer.”

“I know.” She replied in a small voice.

“It’s not any of your neighbours, you know that. I’ve already said Donald is trustworthy, if a trifle unsavoury, as are the Campbells. The Blackmore girls…well, they’re not sisters actually, but perhaps you guessed that. They’ve been lovers for years.”

She looked at him with genuine sorrow in her eyes. “Funny, that’s just what Julian said. He guessed as soon as he met them. They must have been afraid of what people would say and have kept their real relationship secret. But how come Lorna has a child? Was she married at one time?”

“Their story is very sad and appalling too. Lorna’s child was the result of rape. Lorna was assaulted by a gang of thugs who got their kicks from attacking so-called gays. During the attack, Lorna got away from her assailants by jumping from a first-floor window. Unfortunately, she was injured and knocked unconscious. The thugs got away, and because she was comatose for some time, no one realised she was pregnant until later. When she recovered, it was too late to have the pregnancy terminated. No one knew about it, you see. She kept the baby, and Elizabeth has taken care of them ever since. I’ll tell you about it in more detail when we get out of this horror, and we
will
get out of this, I promise. But, Cassandra, we still haven’t talked about Susan.”

She looked away when her eyes filled with tears. She was shocked about poor Lorna, and she was afraid because she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. “I know.”

Chapter 34 The Present

She felt the tension coming from him, radiating through his body and along his legs. He was her knight, without the gleaming white charger and shining armour. Instead he wore a bottle-green jacket, Barbour scarf, dark tan boots, and his weapon was a foot-long dirk. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, there were faint traces of blood on his face, his hair was ruffled from the wind and wet, and his face showed a five-o’clock shadow.

He looked at her and gave a small rueful grin. “You can’t get out of it. There are so many loose threads, and I think between us we know most of the answers.”

When she didn’t say anything, he carried on. “You mentioned Carol and her troubled mind earlier. She’s harmless. It’s Fiona who’s more of the schizophrenic. She loves Donald to distraction. She’s completely obsessed with him and approached Susan on more than one occasion about selling the cottage to him. According to Susan, Fiona thought that if she persuaded her to sell, it would be her gift to Donald and he would marry her. But he’s just playing her along. What she doesn’t know is he messes with half of the girls in town when he goes there drinking. Anyway, Susan refused to sell, point blank, and Fiona was livid. Susan was positive at one stage it was Fiona who killed her dog, despite having no proof. When Susan died, even I wondered if she’d taken her own life or if Fiona had played a part. Susan had sleeping tablets, I know, because she confessed she couldn’t sleep after she returned from England, and I once picked her prescription up for her.”

Cassandra turned horrified eyes to him, wondering where all this was going to end. “What? How dreadful! To think she’s been trying to be my friend ever since I’ve been here. Now I know why.” A sudden thought ran through her. “Do you think Susan knew about the cave? Or Fiona did?”

He nodded. “It’s possible. Susan thought Goldie had been tied up for a few days. But I certainly think Fiona knows about it even if she didn’t actually do anything.”

She frowned. “But you can’t think it is Fiona, surely?”

“No. Almost certainly not. But I’m coming to that.”

There was an increased blast down the chimney, causing swirls of smoke to enter the room. Cassandra thought about the dense whiteness outside, and the howling frenzy battering against her doors and windows. Angus may have been as terrified as she was, but he inspired confidence in her. He was obviously intellectual, and normally his whole demeanour was peaceful, but he had shown himself capable of bravery. He had offered to go outside and find help; he rushed upstairs when the window was smashed, and he was obviously prepared to protect her. She thought he was strong and brave, as well as being gentle and caring.

She somehow knew the murderer was a coward. He preferred frightening and killing women, while venting his fury on Julian who happened to be staying with Cassandra and unfortunate enough to meet him unarmed on the mountaintop.

Her attention switched to Angus as she realised what he was saying. “Sorry, can you repeat what you just said?”

“I said, what do you remember of your brother?”

“I don’t understand. Rupert? Um…not much.” Her heart felt as if it had leapt into her throat and was hammering like mad against her windpipe making it difficult to breathe.” She fidgeted and plucked at the fringing on the cushion at her side.

“I understand how this must be difficult for you, but Susan—”

“Stop! I know what you’re trying to say. Susan told me, and at the time I just couldn’t believe her. I wouldn’t listen. Not her brother, not
our
brother! It was too horrible for words.”

Angus looked both sympathetic and apologetic at once. Maintaining direct eye contact he held onto her elbows and gave them a tender squeeze. “I know, and I’m sorry, darling, but it seems it was true.”

Cassandra felt hot tears slide down her cheeks and she gulped. “But
why
? Susan was so young. She must have been so frightened and disturbed.”

“That sort of thing is always terrifying for young children. You know it’s why she left home don’t you? To get away from him.”

She nodded and, reaching for a tissue from her pocket, sobbed. “She told me when we met in Liverpool, just before she came back here. But I still couldn’t believe her. And then, once she died, I sat and went through everything. Gradually, I remembered things about my family I’d hidden away for years. Rupert left a few years after her. It was awful looking back because I didn’t really understand.”

She looked away as her face flamed. “I did everything Susan had done years before. I went to my parents…well, my mother first, only she didn’t believe anything I said. Rupert was her only son and she loved him much more than Susan and me. She said I was as bad as my sister, making up lies about our brother. She said he’d
never
do anything as disgusting as that. When she refused to listen, I went to Father. He was nearly as bad.”

“It must be hard for parents to believe a son of theirs is violating his sister.”

Cassandra threw him a look. “I suppose I was lucky he never got that far with me. But I sensed his evil and made a real fuss. Eventually there was a huge row and he left. Mother cried and said I’d ruined her life, and Daddy looked furious. We never spoke of it again, and because it was so disturbing, I forgot about it. I must have completely blotted it out. I swear I never remembered a thing until Susan confessed it all to me.” She swallowed hard as tears threatened once more.

“Unwanted sexual advances from an adult are distressing for the victim, but when they are directed towards a child who is unable to repel the attentions of an adult, a grave barrier is crossed. Hush, it’s okay now. I’m here with you, and I believe everything you’ve said.”

“But don’t you see?
No one listened
. And it’s been the story of my life. I didn’t listen to Susan over Natalie or about Rupert’s behaviour. Our parents adamantly refuted Susan’s claims, resulting in her leaving home, and they ignored my pleas until it was almost too late.”

She fell quiet for a moment and then looked into Angus’s eyes with a puzzled frown. “But, Angus, why is this so important? Why did we have to talk about this dreadful secret? I would much prefer to have kept it hidden. I’ve done okay so far.”

When he didn’t answer, she fell back against the cushions, shock written all over her face.

“
No
!”

“I think so.”

“But why? Rupert went to Thailand. I assumed he was dead because I thought none of us heard from him again and it was so long ago!” she cried. “Did Susan know? Oh my God! Angus, please tell me we’re wrong. Not Rupert. Please tell me he didn’t kill Susan and Julian. Everything is bad enough without my brother being a murderer—a devil monster. I can’t bear it.”

Angus gathered Cassandra in his arms and crushed her to his chest, her face pressed into the front of his sweater. Eventually her sobbing subsided, and she sat back, gently pushing him away.

“Susan spent an afternoon telling me everything, Cassandra. She was afraid Rupert had tracked her down, you see. Although she was a successful sculptor, she lived a life of almost hermit-like existence. Few friends visited, as I’ve already told you. Anyway, she told me what had been happening to her and how afraid she was. She still couldn’t decide whether it was Fiona or Rupert who’d killed her dog, but as things went on, she became more and more certain her brother
wasn’t
dead.”