Home > Books > Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard #14 )(143)

Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard #14 )(143)

Author:Julie Garwood

Another call came in for Michael—this one from his brother Nick—and while he talked to him, Isabel decided to turn her cell phone on and find out how many calls she’d missed and how many texts she needed to read.

The number made her groan. She would take the time to go through them all later. She turned the ringer to vibrate and dropped the phone back in her pocket.

Her stomach was growling. As soon as he had mentioned food, she became hungry. The power of suggestion. The café was small, but they were the only customers. They sat by the front window so that Michael could watch the street. While they ate, she told Michael what Freya had said to her.

“I can’t imagine why she would believe Compton would marry her,” she told him.

“I’m surprised she would talk to you.”

“She was . . . almost pleasant until I mentioned I own the property now.”

“Almost pleasant?”

“No, not really.”

“Then why did you say she was?”

Michael was coming to the conclusion that figuring out how her mind worked was impossible.

She was a constant contradiction. She kept him on his guard, he admitted, because he never knew what she was going to say or do. Life with Isabel would never be boring.

Isabel was trying to be compassionate toward Freya. The woman had been forced to raise a difficult boy on her own, and really believed that Compton would leave Glen MacKenna to Clive.

“Freya became very angry. She called me a selfish bitch. After she left, I realized how important it was to protect the land from people like Harcus, and so I knew then what I should do with Glen MacKenna.”

“And what is that?”

“You’ll find out when we get to Gladstone’s office.”

Intrigued, he said with a smile, “Okay. I can wait.”

When they arrived at the law office, Nessie was sitting at her desk and greeted them. “Mr.

Gladstone will be right with you. He’s just finishing a phone call.”

As soon as they were seated in his office, Gladstone told Isabel he had been making phone calls since last night.

“Then it is possible?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

She couldn’t contain her excitement. She turned to Michael to fill him in. “Compton wouldn’t let me sell Glen MacKenna. He also prevented me from removing the MacKenna name. I don’t think this is what he had in mind, but, since I can’t sell it, I’m going to protect it by donating it to the National Trust for Scotland. It’s a conservation organization that preserves Scotland’s natural beauty. I want to make sure no one will be able to build shopping centers and amusement parks on the land. The name’s going to change, too. It’s going to become Glen Leah MacKenna.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said, nodding his approval. “Kate and Kiera gave away the millions they inherited to build a medical center addition with your mother’s name on it, and you are their sister. So I figured you would do something as generous.”

“This is going to take some time,” Gladstone warned her. A few minutes later he repeated his concern. “This won’t happen overnight.”

Michael interpreted. “He wants you to be patient.”

She nodded her understanding.

The meeting lasted an hour, and when all the details had been discussed, Gladstone turned to Michael. “Catch me up on Clive Harcus. I heard there was a fight.”

“It wasn’t much of a fight.”

“It was more of a ruckus,” Isabel said. Another Aunt Nora word.

“Now tell me, Michael. Is it true?” Gladstone asked. “Did Clive Harcus strike Inspector Sinclair? And you struck Clive?” The idea obviously appealed to him, judging by his wide smile.

Before Michael could do more than nod, Gladstone said, “Oh, I wish I had seen it. I’ve run into Clive a time or two here in the offices since he was one of MacCarthy’s clients, and he was a nasty bit of goods.”

Nessie appeared in the doorway to let Gladstone know she was leaving for the day.

“Have a good night,” he called out.

The two men continued their conversation, but Isabel noticed Nessie was still hovering at the door, as though there was something on her mind. Isabel got up, excused herself, and walked over to the woman. Before she could ask how she could be of help, Nessie said, “May I have a word with you?”

Isabel followed her into the next room.

Nessie was blushing when she said, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous, but my friends and I have heard you singing with XO, and we were wondering if we could have your autograph. We may be older, but that doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate good music.”