Allegra Fairweather: Paranormal Investigator Page 5

  But Douglas was shaking his head. “Leith cannae move more than a hundred yards from his cairn.”

  “So he poses no danger to the people living around the loch.”

  “Unless you visit the cairn,” said Douglas darkly. “Then Leith will try to steal your heart. Only last year three tourists had a narrow escape.”

  Had McEwen become Leith’s victim? Last night McEwen had been so drunk he could easily have wandered too close to the cairn. My mind raced backwards, trying to remember the state of his body. If his heart had been taken there would have been a gaping wound in his chest. I couldn’t remember seeing one but maybe Douglas had. I asked him.

  His face blanched at the mention of McEwen. “I dinnae look that close.” He was silent for a while, and then he said, “If Leith did take McEwen’s heart, he’ll no longer be haunting his cairn. Once he has a heart, so the legend goes, he can rest in peace.”

  “If he took McEwen’s heart…”

  Douglas shook his head. “According to the legend, Leith must take a warrior’s heart.”

  McEwen wasn’t exactly warrior material. At least not on the surface. But who knew what lay beneath?

  Was this case going to be solved so easily? Somehow I doubted it. As far as I could tell, McEwen had died a long way from Leith’s Cairn, but in the interests of this investigation I was obliged to visit the cairn. It was the only one way to discover whether Leith was now resting in peace.

  “I think I’ll take a trip to Beag Glen,” I said. Then, remembering the name Mrs. Ferguson had given me, I asked, “Do you know Jenny Clark’s address?”

  Douglas fixed worried eyes on me. “Don’t go to the cairn, Allegra. It’s not safe.”

  “It’s my job. I have to investigate these things. Besides, if Leith is looking for a warrior’s heart, I’ll be perfectly safe.”

  He gave an exasperated sigh but he asked nobly, “Do you want some company?”

  “I think it’s best if I go alone.” But that wasn’t the way it happened.

  As I got into my car, Casper appeared and got into the passenger seat beside me.

  “Off for a drive in the country?” he asked brightly.

  I turned to him. He looked particularly rugged and square-jawed this afternoon.

  “You must know I’m going somewhere potentially dangerous,” I said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Touché.” He buckled his seatbelt and said, “Let’s go.”

  I glanced at the seatbelt and said, “Why bother with that? You can’t be hurt in a crash. Strictly speaking you’re already dead.”

  “I’m setting an example,” he said with a grin. “It’s what Guardian Angels do.”

  “As well as protecting their morsubs,” I said. Morsubs is angelspeak for mortal subjects.

  “Yep,” said Casper.

  I turned on the ignition and took the road to Beag Glen. We had to stop twice to deal with Casper’s car sickness. Soon he felt so ill he had to get out and fly the rest of the way. Invisibly, of course. We met up again on the outskirts of Beag Glen.

  The village nestled, appropriately enough, in a narrow valley in view of Loch Furness. After asking directions, we found Jenny Clark’s house squatting in the middle of a wild, overgrown garden. Clearly there were no brownies here. It was a relief to reach the front door without breaking an ankle.

  I knocked once. And waited. I could hear shuffling inside but the door didn’t open. I knocked again.

  “Won’t be a moment,” called a deep female voice in a very English accent.

  Inside, something banged against the door. This was followed by a stream of obscenities before the door swung open.

  Jenny Clark was a big woman. Not as tall as me, but solid, with square shoulders and large hips. A pair of glasses perched on her nose. Masses of wavy grey hair framed her face.

  “I hope this is important, I’m in the middle of—”

  “Allegra Fairweather, paranormal investigator,” I said extending my hand. “And this is my partner, Casper.”

  Jenny’s eyes widened. Then she smiled. “How exciting. Do come in. Have you come about Leith’s Cairn?”

  When I confirmed that we had, she continued, “Did you know I’m the keeper of his cairn? Most people around here think I’m crazy. It’s fear, of course. They see Leith as a bloodthirsty murderer. But he wasn’t, he was a hero.”

  Her eyes glowed like a young woman in love. I glanced at her left hand. No wedding band.

  While she had been talking, she had led us down a hall and into her living room. Every surface was covered in books and handwritten notes. Several of the notes bore the brown circles of old coffee stains.

  “What can I get you to drink?” asked Jenny.

  “Coffee would be great,” I said. Casper politely agreed.

  “I’ll get it started,” said Jenny. “See if you can find some mugs amongst my papers.”

  It took me a while but finally I found three mugs. Taking them into the kitchen, I made room in the cluttered sink and washed and dried them. While Jenny was making the coffee—real coffee, not instant—I washed up the rest of the dirty dishes and stacked them on the drainer.

  “Thank you,” said Jenny. “The brownies used to help me but I offended them by offering money. Stupid really. Ignorance, you see. I came from England. I moved here after winning The Pools to be near Leith’s Cairn. I’ve always had a fascination for Leith ever since I read his story in an old book.”

  She poured the coffee. I told her I liked it black and that Casper took cream and two sugars. Unlike a lot of men, Casper has a sweet tooth, and because he is an angel, his teeth never decay. He doesn’t put on weight, either. I guess death isn’t all bad.

  As we carried the mugs into the living room, Jenny called to Casper. “Move some of those papers so we can sit down.”

  He did as she asked and we all sat. I chose the chair nearest the hearth, but the fire had burned low and soon I began to shiver. Casper noticed and, after asking Jenny’s permission, built up the fire. He even went outside to chop more firewood. He was as good as a brownie, even better if you included the eye-candy factor.

  While Casper was gone, Jenny told me about Leith McCrae. She sketched in the details of his battlefield exploits and his love for Scotland and its people. Then she told me, in some detail, about the woman he had loved.

  “Vanora McDougall was an unusual woman for her time,” said Jenny. “Unwilling to stay behind tending home and hearth while the men were at war, she donned men’s clothing and marched into battle beside her lover, Leith.

  “She was at the Battle of Furness on the day he was mortally wounded. Kneeling beside him, she heard his last words—‘Bury me above Beag Glen.’ She promised to do as he asked, but before she could drag his body away, an English soldier knocked her to the ground and cut out Leith’s heart. As the soldier lifted the bloody heart in triumph, Vanora picked up her sword. With a single stroke she separated the soldier’s head from his shoulders.

  “Knowing that Leith could not rest in peace without his heart, she took the still warm organ from the soldier’s hand and gently replaced it in Leith’s body. Then she picked up Leith’s feet and began to drag him from the battlefield. She had gone no more than a few yards when another English soldier attacked. She fought bravely but she was no match for him. Wounded and semi-conscious, she watched the soldier gouge out Leith’s heart and throw it into the loch.

  “Then the soldier once again turned his attention to her. He raised his sword. Vanora, who was wearing men’s clothes, expected to be killed quickly like any other soldier. But her clothes had been torn and the Englishman saw that she was a woman. He raped her on the battlefield. Then he took her to the English camp and offered her to the soldiers.

  “She lost count of the days she spent at the mercy of the Englishmen. More than once she prayed for death.

  “One day, when she had almost given up hope, the soldier who had thrown Leith’s heart into the loch untied her bonds and l
ifted her onto a horse.

  “Hauling himself into the saddle behind her, he cruelly dashed her hope of release. ‘If you try to escape I’ll kill you.’

  “She dared to ask, ‘Where are we going?’

  “‘Home.’

  “His home. England. When they arrived at his castle near Everington Hill, he made her stand in the bitter wind while he hurled abuse at her and her people. Then he threw her into the dungeon.

  “She didn’t know how long she spent in the dungeon. Each day of half-light bled into the next. From time to time the males of the family raped her. At first she fought them, but as the weeks with little food and water took their toll, she accepted her fate.

  “She vowed she would never let them see her cry. And she never did. Not even when all the males of the family, having grown bored with her emaciated flesh, plunged their daggers deep into her body. She was dead when they dumped her in a nearby wood.”

  Jenny Clark fell silent.

  “It’s a very sad story,” I said, wondering how much was true and how much embellishment. There was no way Jenny could have known what Vanora had said to her captor. I decided to test Jenny. “How do you know so much detail?”

  She didn’t answer. Her eyes were glazed and unseeing. Her face was unnaturally pale. Uh-oh—this looked bad.

  “Jenny?” I waved my hand in front of her eyes. She blinked but her expression didn’t change. I took her cold hands in mine and began to rub.

  I had seen this sort of reaction before. Usually it occurred when a living person identified very strongly with one who was dead. It wasn’t the same as possession, which was very rare and best dealt with by an experienced exorcist.

  Continuing to rub her hands, I said, “Come back, Jenny Clark. You are in your cottage in the village of Beag Glen. You are sitting with Allegra Fairweather.”

  Jenny blinked rapidly. Her plump cheeks twitched. “Allegra?”

  “I’m here.”

  She gave me a startled glance. “Did I lose control? All I remember is telling you about Vanora McDougall.”

  “You became very involved in your tale,” I said. “It was almost as though you were living it yourself.”

  “Sometimes I feel very close to Vanora.”

  “Have you ever seen her?”

  She shook her head. “But I’d like to. Sometimes when I’m at the cairn I feel she is very close.”

  Casper interrupted us, depositing a load of freshly cut firewood into the basket beside the hearth. “Is everything all right, Allegra?”

  I nodded.

  “Would you like to see Leith’s Cairn now?” Jenny asked.

  “Before we do,” I said, “Do you know a man named Angus McEwen from the village of Furness?”

  She shook her head. Then she repeated, “Do you want to see the cairn now?”

  Noting her pale cheeks, I asked, “Do you feel up to it?”

  “Not only do I feel up to it,” said Jenny, springing to her feet, “I feel as though I absolutely must go there this instant.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. A compulsion to visit the cairn could mean Jenny was more closely linked to the shade of Vanora than was good for any of us. On the other hand I did have my guardian angel with me. What could go wrong?

  I was about to find out.

  Chapter Five

  We hiked out of Beag Glen and continued upward until we reached Glasbrae, the site of Leith’s Cairn. To my eyes the small pile of weathered stones was unimpressive. It was hard to believe a malevolent spirit lurked somewhere within them.

  “How close can I go without disturbing him?” I asked Jenny. Douglas had said a hundred yards, but when you’re dealing with homicidal spirits it’s best to double-check.

  “As close as you like,” said Jenny. “Leith won’t harm you. He needs a male heart. The heart of a warrior.” She glanced at Casper. “You’d better stay right here beside me.”

  Casper didn’t look worried. As a guardian angel he was immune to shades like Leith, but Jenny didn’t know that and we didn’t tell her. It was best if she thought Casper was a mere mortal. He kept up the pretence, sticking close by Jenny as I moved toward the cairn.

  A little breeze ruffled the grass. Birds flew overhead. The scene was as peaceful as any I’ve witnessed…until I stopped beside the cairn.

  The stones were mottled with moss. They smelt of old battles and metal and blood. I thought I could hear the screams of fallen men. They chilled me to the bone.

  I had an odd compulsion to touch the stone at the top of the cairn. Splaying my fingers, I laid my palm against the rough surface. It was colder than it should have been.

  I stood there feeling the texture and hardness of the stone. Suddenly it began to vibrate, sending a tremor up my arm. My first instinct was to pull away, but I couldn’t. Something was clamped around my wrist, anchoring it place. I looked down. There was nothing to see but I could feel invisible fingers digging into my flesh.

  Casper called out. “Do you need help?”

  “No. Stay where you are.”

  Looking down, I saw that the invisible fingers anchoring my hand were slowly becoming visible. I could now see that they were attached to a huge hairy hand, which was at the end of a huge hairy wrist, which in turn disappeared into a filthy, blood-stained sleeve.

  The bulk of Leith’s body was behind me so I couldn’t see his face but I could smell the moldy wool of an ancient kilt. The stench was revolting but it didn’t bother me as much as the sight of the wicked-looking dirk in Leith’s other hand.

  There are two types of ghosts. The first type, misty ghosts, are often very scary but they’re usually harmless. Then there is the second type, who, even after death, are as solid as you and me. Leith was of the second type, which made him very, very dangerous. But only to men. So why was he tightening his grip on my wrist?

  As I tried to twist away from him, I called, “Hey, Jenny, I thought you said he needed the heart of a warrior.”

  “You’ve got short hair and you’re wearing trousers,” she called back. “He thinks you’re a man.”

  Great.

  In the most feminine voice I could muster, I said, “Let me go.”

  Leith stared down at me in confusion. Grabbing my sweater, he lifted it and took a good look underneath. Then he stepped away from me.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. A prudent woman would have run away but prudence is not one of my virtues. I drew myself up to my full height and faced Leith.

  He was neither as tall nor as broad as Casper, but that didn’t make his appearance any less formidable. My first impression was of darkness. Black hair hung to his shoulders. A pair of equally black eyes peered at me above a black beard. I tried not to look at the dark red stain covering much of his shirtfront but I failed. It was like passing a car accident. You know you shouldn’t look, but somehow you can’t help it. Giving my inner voyeur a little leeway, I allowed myself to observe his savagely ripped shirt and the gaping hole where he heart should have been.

  I was staring at the hole when he backhanded me. The blow knocked me off my feet. I toppled sideways, hitting the back of my head on the cairn and then sliding onto the soft grass below. Groggily I stared up at Leith. He was standing over me stretching his hand toward the left side of my chest. There were no prizes for guessing what he was after. And it wasn’t copping a feel of my breast.

  I twisted away, doubling over to shield my chest. Too late I realized my back was exposed. My heart could just as easily be taken from this position.

  I rolled away from him but he came after me, kilt and sporran swinging wildly. I glanced around for something I could use as a weapon, but what could I use against a ghost? There was only one thing that would do any good.

  “Casper!” I screamed.

  Leith threw himself on top of me. Pinning my shoulders to the ground, he raised his dirk. Time slowed as it moved toward my chest. I had never known Casper to be late before. I hoped he wouldn’t start now.

&nbs
p; The tip of Leith’s dirk touched my sweater, slicing through the knitted wool. I tensed, anticipating the pain of having my chest ripped open. But it never came.

  Casper arrived in the nick of time. Grabbing the blade of Leith’s dirk with his bare hand, Casper pulled it away from my chest. He grimaced as the blade bit deep. A river of blood cascaded between his fingers but he didn’t let go. Two spectacular moves later, Leith was bleeding from his mouth and nose and Casper had his dirk.

  “Allegra, move away from the cairn,” Casper said. “Two hundred yards should be far enough. Take Jenny with you.”

  Jenny looked stunned. She stared white faced at the angel and the ghost. Gently I took her hand and led her out of sight of the cairn.

  All the time she kept muttering, “I don’t understand why Leith attacked you. He must have realized you were a woman when he lifted your jumper.” Her brow puckered as she wrestled with the problem. “He’s never attacked a woman before. If you’d been injured, I’d never have forgiven myself.” Then, as though realizing only I was safe, she continued, “What if something happens to Casper?”

  I assured her Casper could take care of himself, but privately I wasn’t sure he would come out of this unscathed. Although he couldn’t actually be killed, he was capable of suffering serious injury. I was beginning to worry when I saw him striding in our direction. Fresh blood dripped from his hand.

  “Are you all right?” I asked. “Your hand…”

  “Is fine.” He stuffed it into his pocket.

  I knew that Casper’s wounds healed unnaturally quickly, but I could never quite believe it until I saw his smooth unscarred skin with my own eyes.

  Casper asked, “Is Jenny ok?

  “She looks fine to me. Oh, and by the way, I’m fine too. Thanks for asking.”

  Before Casper had a chance to apologize for not asking after my welfare—well, I assumed that’s what he was going to do—Jenny muttered, “I still don’t understand why Leith attacked Allegra.” She glanced at me curiously. “You haven’t had a sex change have you? I mean you look like a women but you’re tall and…”

  “I am a woman thank you very much.”