She later told me she’d had no intention of calling him unless I’d died.
I hadn’t thought much about that until now. Now that our situation was reversed. Knowing that if I hadn’t been here, the Adairs wouldn’t have contacted me unless Mac died.
And that would have really hurt.
Damn it.
“I feel like a fool,” Mac whispered, glowering at the wall. “A trained bloody bodyguard, and I let the fucker blindside me.”
I leaned toward him, touching his arm in comfort. “You don’t have to tell me, but if you’re up to it, I’d like to know what happened.”
“I’ve told the police and Lachlan. Why shouldn’t I tell you?” He turned his head toward me. “I’d just stepped out the front door, on my way to meet you for dinner. And it was like a black blur, he came at me so fast. He must have been waiting at the side of the door. I felt the pain of the blade going in. Three quick jabs.”
Police training assisted my maintained neutral expression. Inside, however, I flinched at the thought of Mac’s attack. It just seemed unreal. When I was a kid, Mac was this invincible presence.
“There was no time to react, to defend myself. Then my neighbor, Jim, started shouting, and the guy took off. I managed to show Jim my wounds before I lost consciousness.”
I was going to legally eviscerate the fucker who’d done this. “And you have no idea who it was?”
Mac shook his head. “Head to foot in black clothing, gloves, and a black ski mask. I looked into his eyes—the bastard wore purple contacts.”
“Contacts? Are you sure? Some people have a purple tinge to their eyes.”
“Definitely contacts. It was an unnatural hue of purple. And something about the way they sat on his irises. They were contacts.”
“Mac.” I sat forward. “That suggests you know this person. Why go to the effort of concealing his eye color if he didn’t think it might identify him?”
“Aye.” He smirked wearily. “I came to that conclusion myself.”
“I want to know more, but we’ll wait until you’re feeling better.”
“There’s no need, Robyn. The police have been informed, and my men are still investigating. You don’t have to stay, sweetheart. I know you probably only intended a short visit.”
“That’s true. But I also didn’t expect my father to get stabbed and almost killed, for Arrochar Adair to tell me someone had tried to hurt Lachlan Adair and decided to take you out in order to succeed. I’m staying. I’m staying until I find out who did this to you. I’m staying until I bring them to justice.”
“You’re not a police officer anymore. And even when you were, you weren’t a detective.”
His comment stung my pride. “I could have been if I’d wanted.”
“I believe it. I meant no insult.”
Silence fell between us.
Then he smiled, that handsome, roguish smile I knew had fooled my mother, a twenty-year-old college student, into believing Mac was three years older than the sixteen-year-old he actually was. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Then let’s work together.”
“You can’t.” I gestured to the bed.
Mac’s expression turned obstinate. “And you can’t expect me to lie here and do nothing. We work together on this, or I tell you nothing.”
That made me grin even as I shook my head at him. Shit. I was more like my father than I’d realized. “I can’t believe you’re bargaining with me.”
“Aye, you can.”
“Fine. But here’s the deal … I do all the legwork. Your only role in this is helping me put the pieces together. You will rest up as long as the doc says you need to.”
He considered this.
Then … “Fine.”
“Okay. Let’s start with the club. What the hell has been going on?”
7
Lachlan
He’d just taken a sip of coffee when the piercing cry of a bagpipe’s opening note split through the office, startling him. The coffee missed Lachlan’s mouth and landed on his white shirt.
“Fuck.”
His bagpiper, Malcolm, played as he sauntered around the castle at 3 p.m. every day to signal afternoon tea was now being served. Lachlan’s members loved the tradition.
He, however, somehow managed to continually forget that Malcolm started outside his office at the same time every bloody day.
Striding out the door, Lachlan tried to hurry through the castle without being seen by members. Occupancy was relatively low as his members preferred to stay in the summer and winter months. However, his staff still went about their duties, trying not to look at the boss quizzically as he sped through the castle with a big, dirty brown stain on his shirt.
Of all people, he encountered Sebastian Stone on the gallery.
“Have you seen Gabriella?” Stone asked, referring to his fiancée. The club admitted only TV and movie industry professionals and their spouses. While Gabriella was in the music industry, she gained guest entry through her relationship with Stone. He was an arrogant prick who everybody knew was fucking around on a woman he didn’t deserve, but he was a bloody good actor with a stellar reputation. Stone was good at hiding how much of an arrogant prick he was, and they didn’t admit anyone into Ardnoch who would cause trouble.
Lachlan inwardly huffed at the thought of the mess they currently faced; at least they did what they thought were thorough checks before granting a member admittance.
By we, he meant his board, made up of himself and three Hollywood stars: Lachlan’s friends, fellow actors Lucy Wainwright and Luther Ameen, and Hollywood legend, director Wesley Howard. Wesley had directed Lachlan’s biggest blockbuster, a sci-fi action movie along the lines of Terminator. They’d gotten along so well, they’d stayed in touch. Wesley invested in Ardnoch and owned the largest multimillion-pound holiday home on the estate. The irony of that was he also visited the estate the least of all its members, though his wife visited annually during the summer.
“No,” Lachlan answered as he moved past Stone. He glanced over his shoulder at him. “The Spa?” Two buildings, a five-minute walk from the castle, erected in a contemporary style at odds with the castle’s architecture but in complete harmony with the woodlands surrounding it housed a gym and a spa and salon. Both were very popular with his members.
“I’ll have Wakefield call the spa to check. Hey, Adair?”
Lachlan stopped, turning to him.
Stone smirked. “Did I see Camille and Barton leaving yesterday?”
It took effort, but he kept his expression neutral. Another reason the resort was quiet was because he’d informed his guests about the incidents. Mac hadn’t wanted him to, but Lachlan couldn’t put his members’ lives in danger. And there was the small matter of the detective inspectors showing up and insisting they might have to question the members. Lachlan had shown them around the estate where the incidents occurred and handed over the evidence Mac had collected. When they’d said they might have to return to interview the members, he knew it was time to inform them of the truth.