And yet, she had to admit, after the shock of finding him at her door wore off, she really was happy to see him. Then her mind cleared, and she remembered he had broken her heart. She also remembered the lovely conversation she had had with Amanda. Broaching that subject was going to spark a whopper of a fight. She’d been building steam since she left the party, but it would have to wait until later. First, she wanted to know why she was in trouble. She hadn’t been in Scotland long enough to do anything wrong.
She tried to step back, but he wasn’t ready to let go of her, and if room service hadn’t interrupted, she thought he might’ve kissed her. She decided she would let him, and after he explained what his sudden appearance was all about, she would give him hell.
Michael opened the door, and Brodie, the proprietor of the small hotel, wearing a white apron over his tweed suit, carried her breakfast tray in and placed it on the table. “Cook added another cup and saucer and a few more scones and such for your mister.”
Her mister? Isabel didn’t correct him. “That was thoughtful of her,” she said. “Please tell her thank you.”
Turning to Michael, he said, “Per your instructions I changed the name on the register and will use your credit card for the charge. Will you be staying another night?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Isabel said, wondering why he directed his question to Michael.
At the same time Michael said, “No, we’ll be leaving on a flight to Boston tonight.”
“I’ll keep the room available for you just in case.”
Isabel followed him to the door. “Thank you, Brodie.”
“No, no, I should be thanking you,” he replied. “Your suggestions were spot on. I’ll let you get to your breakfast.”
Michael waited until she had closed the door, then asked, “What were your suggestions?” Before she could answer, he said, “You didn’t give any, did you? I’m betting you didn’t say anything. You just listened, didn’t you?”
“Good guess,” she said.
“Not a guess,” he corrected. “I just observed your past behavior.”
Isabel took a seat at the small table, lifted the cozy from the teapot, and poured the hot liquid through the strainer into her cup. She offered Michael a cup of tea, but he declined with a shake of his head.
“Sit down, Michael. You look so tense.” When he was settled in the chair across from her, she said. “Now, are you ready to tell me why you came all this way, why you want to take me back to Boston, and why you think I’m in trouble?”
“Yes,” he said. “But first I need to know if you have contacted anyone connected to Glen MacKenna.”
“No.”
“What about Donal Gladstone, the solicitor handling the estate? Or James Reid, the man harassing you? Have you talked to either one of them?”
“No,” she insisted. “I spoke to Mr. Gladstone right before I went to Boston, but I haven’t spoken to him since. I don’t have to worry about Reid anymore.”
“Why not?”
“I got a text from him yesterday. He apologized and told me he wasn’t going to pressure me anymore. He hopes I’ll let him bid against other offers. I guess he’s finally convinced I’m not going to sell Glen MacKenna . . . at least not to him.”
Nodding, he said, “Okay, so no one knows you’re here.” Thank God, he silently added.
“There were some teenagers at the airport who recognized me.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Fifteen or twenty. They took some photos and made a bit of a fuss. Why do you think I’m in trouble?”
He was about to ruin her day, and he was sorry about that. She had been so excited to see the Highlands. He felt as though he were snatching one of her dreams away from her.
“Remember the bloody flash drive you gave Nick to get cleaned up for you?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Oh no, did the blood seep inside and ruin it? Is that even possible?”
“It isn’t yours.”
“It . . . I’m sorry . . . what? It was in my coat pocket. Of course it’s mine.”
“No, it isn’t. Detective Walsh put it in your pocket before he collapsed.”
She thought a long minute, recalling the details of the incident, and then said, “He was clawing at me. I thought he was trying to hold on so he wouldn’t fall. What was on it?”
Michael had downloaded the flash drive to his computer, but he had also made a printout because he knew Isabel would want to read it over and over again—like he did—until she believed it.