Home > Books > Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard #14 )(142)

Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard #14 )(142)

Author:Julie Garwood

“What does that matter?”

“You don’t remember what it was like getting out of the arena in Boston?”

Oh yes, she remembered. It would have been terrifying if Michael hadn’t been with her. “Not all that many people know who I am,” she argued.

“You’re wrong. They know who you are. They just haven’t been able to find out where you are, and that’s because of all the help we’ve gotten from Nick and Alec and Noah with cars and hotels . . .”

“I can handle a crowd.” It was a blatant lie, but she thought she told it well.

Exasperated, he said, “They’d run right over you. I’m not going back to Boston without you. It isn’t safe for you here. You’re going home with me.”

He walked over to her, tilted her chin up so she would look at him, and softened his tone. “Do you honestly believe I would leave you?”

He didn’t give her time to answer. He leaned down and kissed her. When he pulled away, she looked a little dazed.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll stop at the front desk and let them know we’ll be staying one more night.”

She grabbed her rain jacket, shoved her wallet into a pocket and zipped it closed, put her cell phone in her pants pocket, and followed him out the door.

? ? ?

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY. THE SUN WAS OUT, BUT ISABEL KNEW RAIN CLOUDS COULD SNEAK

in at any time. The weather was fickle in the Highlands, but—hot, cold, wet, dry—it didn’t matter to her. She still loved it.

“I’ve read books about this country, and I’ve seen hundreds of photos, but nothing compares to actually being here.”

She was leading up to making him understand why she wanted to stay. He cut her off.

“Then we’ll come back.”

She was surprised that he had included himself. “It would be nice to roam around without people trying to kill me.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess that would be nice.”

On their way to Dunross they talked about the FBI and Michael’s decision to enter the academy.

“You’ll start the end of August?”

“Yes.”

“Will the training to become an agent be as brutal and intense as it was for you to become a Navy SEAL?”

“No.”

She waited for him to tell her more, and when he remained silent, she asked, “Care to explain why it won’t be as difficult?”

“No.”

“Michael? Do you know what people skills are?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You ought to get some.”

He just shrugged and smiled. It wasn’t the reaction she wanted.

“What are you going to do when you get back to Boston?” he asked a few minutes later.

“Spend the night, then fly back to South Carolina, I suppose. I honestly don’t know where I’ll end up. I can work on my songs anywhere,” she added.

Odd though it was, thinking about leaving the Highlands made her emotional, probably because she was trying not to admit leaving Scotland meant leaving Michael, too. He had his future all mapped out, and it didn’t include her.

“We have a lot of time. Do you want to drive around Glen MacKenna? We’ve only seen a tip of it.”

“I’d like that.”

Only when they’d taken the tour of her land did she realize just how big it was. It had everything a national park envied. There were streams, lakes, hills, and valleys, all places to fish, hunt, and hike.

For an outdoorsman Glen MacKenna was Utopia.

They had circled around to Rosemore when Sinclair called. Michael put him on speaker. The inspector sounded ecstatic with his news. They were beginning the investigation to connect Harcus to the kill order given to Jacoby and Ferris, but in the meantime, the investigators going through MacCarthy’s records had found proof that Harcus had received large sums of money to do MacCarthy’s dirty work, including framing Wiley Croft for stealing government funds, the case Sinclair had mentioned earlier. They had enough hard evidence to put Clive Harcus in prison for at least twenty years. There wouldn’t be any talk of bail. The Terror of the Highlands was finished.

There was also evidence implicating Graeme Gibson, and Sinclair was on his way to Graeme’s cottage to arrest him.

Michael finished the call and parked in front of a little café down the street from the Rosemore Police Station.

“We have plenty of time to grab something to eat before we head over to Dunross for your meeting with Gladstone.”