Murder Takes the High Road(67)

It was kind of depressing and I sincerely hoped salmon was not on the evening’s menu.

After our tour, we returned along the coast, stopping for lunch in a beautiful cove with white sand and sparkling azure water, so clear you could see all the way to the bottom. The kitchen at Castle Dìomhair had provided huge picnic baskets stuffed with delicacies such as, yes, salmon paste sandwiches. Of course, there was also whisky. Dark Origins from the Highland Park distillery on Orkney, in this case.

“And they say crime doesn’t pay,” Sally murmured when we were all replete, lying back on the tartan picnic blanket and turning her face to the sun.

“I’m not surprised John left,” Rose said, out of the blue. “Not after that exchange with Vanessa last night.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The way he spoke to her. He practically accused her of murder.”

“Uh. She did commit murder. She went to prison for murder,” I said.

Nedda said, “I’m not sure what he was doing on the tour to begin with. If he’s ever read one of Vanessa’s books, I’ll eat my hat.” She doffed her straw sunhat as though to prove her point.

Sally pushed up on her elbows. “Why was he on the tour?” she asked me.

Rose and Nedda were both watching me as well.

“I don’t think it’s a mystery,” I said. “He’s got family Scottish connections and he enjoys mystery novels.”

“Not Vanessa’s,” Nedda said.

“Don’t tell me you swallowed that story,” Sally scoffed. “He was obviously up to something. Always skulking around, listening in on people’s private conversations.”

“Skulking?”

“Oh, Carter, come on. We all noticed.”

“Even if he was, it wouldn’t be anything nefarious,” I protested. Not that I needed to defend John, but...

“He upset Vanessa,” Sally said. “She tried to hide it, but I could tell.”

I said, “Vanessa was upset when we came downstairs for cocktails.”

Sally denied this, but Nedda said, “No, he’s right. I thought so too. There was a difference in her from that afternoon.”

A shadow fell across me. “Carter? Can I have a word?”

I squinted against the bright sun and made out Trevor’s silhouette. My heart sank. I didn’t need to see his face. I recognized the we-need-to-talk tone.

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Don’t mind us,” Rose said.

Sally said, “I knew this was coming.” She lay back and closed her eyes again.

“Like honey to flies,” Nedda murmured. “Where’s Ben?”

Trevor ignored them. “Carter?”

I looked around for Vance and spotted him sound asleep on one of the nearby picnic blankets. Great. No rescue was coming from that quarter.

I rose without a word and strode down the beach, leading him away from our audience. Trevor followed, sounding slightly out of breath as he called, “It’s not a race.”

I sighed and slowed. “What’s the problem now, Trevor? What’s so urgent—”

He caught my hand and drew me forward, and kissed me. Astonishment held me motionless. Astonishment, but also the unexpected familiarity of it. Only for an instant. I shoved him away. He staggered and sat down in the sand.

“Do that again, and I’ll deck you.” I glared, then threw a guilty look back at the picnic blankets. Every single head was turned our way. I could see the round eyes and open mouths all the way from where we stood. In fact, I thought Sally had her phone out and was filming us.

I groaned. “Are you crazy?”

Trevor stood up, brushed the sand from his khakis, and came toward me. His eyes were brimming with emotion. Largely self-inflicted. “You can’t pretend you don’t still have feelings for me.”

“I have feelings for you. None of them make me want to kiss you.”

Trevor closed his eyes as though in pain. “I know I hurt you.”

“Stop,” I said. And to make sure the folks back home were getting the full picture, I planted my hand in his chest. “Seriously. Stop. I don’t want to hear this. It’s over for me. And it should be over for you, seeing that you’re with Vance now.”

I turned to return to the safety of the tour, but Trevor caught my arm.

“I love Vance,” he said. “But I loved you first. This situation is killing me.” He gazed beseechingly into my eyes. Same old Trevor. Reveling in the self-created drama.

I said, “You’ll survive.”

“Don’t. If you hadn’t been so cold, so withdrawn at the end... You forced me to choose.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It was just so... Trevor.

“So cold and withdrawn after I found out you were having an affair with your dental hygienist? So, it was actually my fault?”

Trevor said indignantly, “He wasn’t my dental hygienist when we met!”

“Uh, true. Is that supposed to make it better? Listen—”

Trevor interrupted, “What if I left Vance? What if I came back to you?”

It was no longer even remotely funny. “I hope you’re kidding.”

Trevor shook his head. “I made a mistake. I see that now. I love Vance, but I love our old life more. I love you more.”