Finding the Magic Page 4

  The well-tuned engine roared to life and he floored the accelerator. The car bounded forward, throwing her off balance, her head hit the door with a resounding thump and she bit her tongue. She found herself sprawling on the floor in front of the passenger seat, the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth. Tires squealed on concrete as Cameron drove them recklessly around corners. She braced herself, suddenly glad she couldn’t see where they were going.

  “Are they following us?” she asked. He had lost his sunglasses in the struggle and the expression in his amber eyes was fierce. He glanced in the rearview mirror and the car slowed a little.

  “Disnae look like it.” He reached out and grasped her hand, hauling her back into her seat. Jayne groaned and rubbed the lump that was forming on her head as a number of other sore places began to make themselves known. She pushed them out of her mind and snapped her seat belt into place. “What the hell just happened? That wasn’t a real checkpoint, was it?”

  He scowled at the road and growled, “No. It wasnae.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

  She let the implications of that sink in. She was no fool, it didn’t take long. “They were waiting for us. You know what that tells me? They knew you. Not me. I would have had no reason to be on this road. Maybe I wouldn’t have been in any danger if you hadn’t brought me to it.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. Frowning, he shook his head abruptly like a dog shaking off water then said abruptly, “Can you drive, lass?”

  “What? No.” She had failed her driving test when she took it a couple of years ago and never got around to taking it again. Okay that wasn’t entirely true, actually she had been too much of a coward to take it again. It had been a miracle that Megan had been able to talk her into it the first time.

  He shook his head again. “Shit.” This time when he looked at her she noticed that his pupils were dilated, the irises just a ring of gold around them. “Bastard stuck a syringe into my side. Must have been a tranquilizer.” The car swerved over the white line and he snapped his attention back to the road. But instead of pulling over, he accelerated.

  “What the hell are you doing? Didn’t you just say they drugged you!? Slow down!”

  “No. They could be right behind us. We have to get back to the estate. It’s not far, it’ll be safe there.” His shoulders had begun to droop and he straightened again. “Open the windows, lass.”

  She did as he asked, pressing the button on the console with fingers that trembled until the electric windows slid down and freezing air blasted over them both. They rounded another corner at a speed that made her dig her nails into the leather seat. The car drifted so near to the hedgerow beside the road that the wing mirror actually brushed along it and her heart flew into her throat, fluttering like a moth caught in a jar. If there had been a ditch beside the road they’d have been in it. Nausea burned in her stomach. She turned back to Cameron, his eyes were beginning to drift shut and he was visibly straining to resist it. A pine forest loomed over them on one side of the road, its sharp earthy scent sweeping through the window. “Tell me we’re nearly there, please,” she yelled over the noise of the wind.

  He nodded, as though it would be too much effort to speak. The car swerved again, the wheels losing purchase on the slippery road for a few seconds. “Cameron!” He jerked his head up and wrestled the car back into the lane. Finally he began to slow down and Jayne sent a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens as they turned onto an unmarked gravel road leading into the trees. Thankfully, the branches seemed to have sheltered it from the worst of the snow, but it was poorly maintained and liberally sprinkled with deep, muddy puddles. They had barely driven a dozen feet down it when they hit one of the potholes, the car lurched to a drunken stop and the engine stalled. Jayne let out a shuddering sigh of relief and unclenched her aching fingers from the leather upholstery. She looked over to find Cameron slumped over in his seat, breathing deep and even.

  “My god, you are nuts!”

  She leaned across and grabbed the heavy muscles at the top of his arm, digging in her short nails and shaking him. “Cameron! Cam, wake up!” She slapped his face hard enough to leave a faint red handprint. “Come on, wake up!” Nothing, no response. He was out cold. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  The light was fading and the surrounding woods made it even gloomier, it was already very dark under the trees on either side. Dark enough that she could only see a half a dozen feet into them before the light disappeared into black. Worse, as the winter sun set, the temperature was dropping. It had been warm in the car and they had both left their jackets on the backseat. Shivering, she rolled up the windows and turned the heat back up. Thankfully it was only a stalled engine and the electrical systems were still working. She winced at the thought and superstitiously touched her fingers to the wood paneling on the dashboard, unwilling to tempt the fates. They couldn’t stay here all night, even with the heater switched on, not when they could be followed at any time. It was obvious that whoever set up the checkpoint had at least an idea where Cameron lived. She could walk, but there was no way to tell how far along the road she’d have to go before reaching Murray House. No. She’d have to drive, or try to. She looked at the big man in the driver’s seat. How on earth was she going to get him out of there and over here? He was a dead weight, there was just no way.

  “And this started off as such a nice day,” she muttered.

  After much tugging and hauling and some grunting she was glad Cameron hadn’t been awake to hear, she had the seat back lowered and the seat pushed away from the wheel. Then she had moved him back far enough so that she could sit on the edge of the seat between his legs. The heat of his body radiated through her lower back, distracting her as she studied the dashboard and tried to remember her long-ago driving lessons.

  “All right, Jayne, first things first. We need lights… Aha!” She found the switch and turned it on, the powerful headlights flooded the road ahead with light and deepened the shadows. She shivered a little and, feeling a little ridiculous, hit the door locks.

  “Okay…engine.” She turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared briefly as the car lurched forward then stalled again. “Oops. Neutral, Jayne, neutral.” She moved the gearstick and tried again, grinning when the engine started with a well-mannered purr. “Check it out, Cameron, we have liftoff.” Soft snoring was her only reply and her grin widened. The quiet sound made him seem more approachable.

  “Now if we can only get this very expensive tank moving forward.”

  It took her a few attempts and a couple more stalls to get the four-wheel drive creeping forward in a low gear. But it was moving, albeit slowly, and Jayne was inordinately pleased with her achievement. Maybe it was time to take up those driving lessons again after all.

  It seemed like an eternity before she reached the end of the road in front of a pair of enormous iron gates set into a wall. Her shoulders were tight with the strain of keeping the vehicle moving. Every time it had hit one of the holes in the road, her feet had almost slipped off the clutch and that, in turn, had jolted the car forward. She was surprised not to see a little sweaty smudge on the windshield where her nose had been pressed as she tried to watch for potholes. Beyond the gates, she could see lights in the window of a mansion but she could only hope it was the right one. She might have recognized Cameron’s home from Megan’s enthusiastic descriptions but it was too dark now to see any details. There was an intercom mounted on a post beside her door and she rolled down the window and pressed the button. Within a few minutes it crackled to life and a woman’s voice asked, “Yes?”

  “Is this Murray House?”

  “Yes it is. What are you doing in Mr. Murray’s car?” Suspicion filled the woman’s voice.

  “My name is Jayne Davis. I’m a friend of Megan and Jack Douglass. I have Cameron—Mr. Murray—here with me, he’s been drugged and he’s asleep. Can you open the gate?”

  “Put on the overhead light.” Jayne did as she was asked, lifting
the sun visor so that there was no obstruction for the wall-mounted camera.

  “Come in, just drive right up to the door.”

  With a buzz and a click the gates swung open and Jayne drove through, following the concrete driveway beyond. Someone had salted it, leaving a cleared path through the snow up to the huge, sandstone house. She jerked to a stop a few feet from the stone steps and turned the engine off with a sigh of relief. Warm light shone out of the open door and spilled over the woman who waited there. She looked to be in her early fifties. Concern marred the fine features of her face as she rushed down the stairs to the vehicle. Her hair fell in a sleek mahogany bob and she wore black slacks and pastel blue sweater.

  It was obvious that Cameron was important to her and Jayne climbed out and stepped back to let her see him. The older woman leaned in the open door to check his pulse and lay a gentle hand against his beard-roughened cheek. Jayne frowned as a pang of what felt very much like jealousy swept through her. Not a romantic jealousy. She somehow knew that Cameron wouldn’t have kissed her if he was involved with someone else. More because this woman touched him with such familiarity. Jayne wanted to claim the same right as her own but he wasn’t hers.

  Apparently satisfied with the condition of the slumbering man, she straightened and offered her hand.

  “I’m Mary, Mary MacFarlane, Mr. Murray’s housekeeper. Let’s get him into the house, then you can tell me what happened.”

  She eyed the woman doubtfully, she was slender and a good six inches shorter than Jayne herself. How on earth were the two of them going to get him into the house? Mary smiled at her as though reading her mind.

  “I’m stronger than I look, love. And I have a secret weapon.” She reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a small bottle of old-fashioned smelling salts. “They won’t bring him out of it completely, the only thing that will do that is time. If we knew what drug he was given, I could give him an antidote but I don’t want to risk it otherwise.” Jayne gaped at her and she smiled reassuringly. “Close your mouth, love, you’ll catch midgies, I have medical training. Now, come and give me a hand, this might make him alert enough to help us.”

  Dutifully Jayne did as she was told and got into the passenger side again, kneeling in the seat.

  “You might want to sit back just a little bit dear, just in case. These boys do tend to come out of it fighting.”

  These boys? She did as she was asked, filing her questions away for later as Mary opened the bottle and wafted it under Cameron’s nose. The precaution was for nothing though, whatever they had given him still held him in a tight grip. Instead, he woke slowly groaning and struggling to open his eyes. His voice was heavy with sleep as he struggled for awareness.

  “Jayne.”

  “I’m here, we’re at the house. We need to get you inside, Cameron, you have to help us.”

  He focused briefly on her face and something possessive flashed through his eyes before he turned to Mary.

  “Mary?”

  The housekeeper brushed a hand through his hair. “Yes, it’s me. Come on, my love, let’s get in the house.”

  He fell silent and, with their help, pushed himself slowly up until he could get his feet out of the car and stand, leaning heavily on Mary. Jayne scrambled over the seat and tucked herself under his other shoulder so that they could stagger clumsily up the steps and into the house. They passed through a wood-paneled hallway and through a door on the right leading to a living room. “This will have to do.” Mary gasped, “There’s no way we’ll get him upstairs.” Cameron’s feet were almost dragging now and they had to take more of his weight as the drug pulled him back under. He groaned as they let him fall back onto the cushions of the dark green leather sofa, both of them breathless with exertion. “He can sleep here, I’ll get him some blankets and he’ll be warm enough with the fire burning.”

  She leaned over and lowered his shoulders while Jayne lifted his legs so that he was lying flat with his feet hanging over the edge. As they stood he reached out and grasped Mary’s wrist, pulling her closer until he could meet her eyes. He said something to her and the woman’s startled gaze flew to Jayne and she smiled as though someone had told her she’d won the lottery. Jayne frowned, the muttered words made no sense to her but they obviously meant something to his housekeeper.

  What the hell did Derav Kea al mean?

  Chapter Five

  Jayne set her suitcase at the foot of the stairs and paused at the living room door. The lights had been dimmed and gentle snoring had resumed from the man on the couch. His face was relaxed in sleep. A plaid blanket covered him, his shoes and socks had been removed and his long bare feet stuck out of the bottom. There was something oddly vulnerable about a man’s bare feet, why was that? Shaking her head, she turned away from him and followed the sound of clattering dishes to the back of the house.

  She found Mary in a bright, pine kitchen heating something on the stove. It smelled delicious and Jayne drew a deep appreciative breath. In all today’s excitement, she had missed lunch and now that it was all over, hunger rolled over her.

  “Is stew okay with you, dear? I wasn’t sure when Cameron would be back so I made something that could just be warmed.”

  “It’s fine, thank you, what can I do to help?”

  “You can set the table and slice some bread, if you don’t mind.” She nodded toward the counter where she had left two sets of dishes and a fresh loaf. Jayne did as she was asked and it wasn’t long before the two women were sitting down to eat.

  “Now, why don’t you tell me why you brought my boy back to me unconscious?”

  Jayne looked up at the woman across from her and tried to gather her thoughts into some kind of order. A rueful smile flitted across her face as she realized it just wasn’t going to be possible. This whole day had been like some kind of surreal dream but the bump, throbbing on the back of her head, told her it was real enough.

  “I knew that he was going to collect you,” Mary prompted. “He thinks you are in danger. I know it has something to do with the person who tried to kill Jack and Megan but he wouldn’t tell me what. Stubborn fool.”

  Jayne smiled at the apt description. She suspected Mary knew more than she was letting on but the housekeeper’s face gave nothing away as she recapped the events of the day.

  “My goodness, you have had a busy day.” She stood and carried the empty plates to the dishwasher.

  “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” Jayne asked incredulously.

  “What else is there to say? You’re here now and both safe, no one can get near the house without us knowing about it.” She turned back to Jayne and smiled. “I know it’s early yet but you’ve had a terrible day and you must be tired. Why don’t I show you to your room and you can take a warm bath? It’ll help to ease those aches and pains.” When Jayne looked at her in surprise, she laughed. “I’ve been a nurse for a long time, love, I know the signs.”

  Jayne wrinkled her nose, she hadn’t realized it was obvious and, truth be told, it wasn’t that bad. Apart from a sore head, her neck and shoulders were aching and she knew that her clothing had to conceal some colorful bruises. Nothing terrible, just uncomfortable. She would rather stay here and get some answers to her questions. One look at Mary’s face told her that she wasn’t going to say any more so she gave in gracefully.

  “A bath and some painkillers sound wonderful. Thank you.”

  She collected her suitcase and followed the housekeeper up to the second floor, feet sinking deeply into the dark, red carpet. Both landings were gallery style and were overlooked by round stained glass windows, which had to be glorious in the sunlight. They depicted a mermaid with a mirror in her right hand and a comb in her left. The stylized writing beneath said “Tout Prest” and Jayne wondered briefly if they were a clan crest, which would make sense, given the obvious age of the house. She opened her mouth to ask Mary but the other woman was already climbing the next stairs so she quickened her pa
ce to catch up.

  The first floor was unlit but the second glowed with soft light from the glass wall fixtures. It was more modern in décor than she had seen on the first floor with wallpaper in a rich cream rather than the wood paneling. The lighter color softened the red of the carpet. On both sides of the landing, windows looked out of the back of the house along the length of the hall. There were five doors along the opposite wall and another at the end. Mary turned right and stopped at the fourth. “This is yours, it has its own bathroom and you’ll find everything you need in there.” She nodded toward the doors farther along the corridor. “Cameron’s suite is right next to you and the door at the end is his office. I’ll see you at breakfast. Goodnight, dear.”

  Jayne watched the housekeeper’s retreating back for a second before opening the bedroom door. She was beginning to have some sympathy for Megan’s experience a few months ago. This was just a little bit surreal. She stepped into the room and her mouth dropped open in surprise.

  Wow! Megan would love this.

  The center of attention was an enormous four-poster bed. It took up most of one wall, its gleaming dark frame draped in what looked like yards of opaque, cream-colored material. The quilt was also cream with little pink flowers embroidered on it and looked as soft and puffy as a cloud. Jayne imagined you could lie down in the middle and never be seen again. The colors were echoed on the walls and the lace curtains at windows. The carpet was pale, pale pink and was so soft, her feet sank a good inch into the pile. She pushed the door closed and stood in the center of the room, suitcase at her feet, afraid to touch anything before she’d washed her hands.

  My god, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

  She lifted her case onto the top of a chest of drawers and opened it, grabbing her nightshirt and toiletry bag from the top. Unpacking it could definitely wait ‘til morning. The door opposite the foot of the bed led into a bathroom of white and gold. A large glass shower cubicle was fitted into the corner and a bathtub, large enough to fit three people comfortably, took up most of the rest of the space. Scented candles sat around two sides of it, adding a splash of color. She started filling the tub and rooted in the bathroom cabinet until she found the promised painkillers. She swallowed two and sat on the toilet seat to strip off her clothes while steam filled the room around her.