Scots on the Rocks

“Your room or mine?”

Judith shrugged. “Yours, I guess. You’ve got a view of the village.”

“If we can see it through the rain,” Renie said, leading the way. “It’s after four o’clock and I’m still not hungry, but I’m getting crabby as well as worried sick.”

Inside the Joneses’ room, Renie spotted a piece of paper a few inches from the door. “What’s this? A ransom note for our husbands?”

“What does it say?” Judith asked anxiously.

“‘Dinner will not be served tonight.’ That’s it.”

“I wonder why,” Judith said. “Does this have to do with Gibbs?”

“Maybe it’s got more to do with Harry’s funeral tomorrow,” Renie said. “Both Gibbses must be terribly upset.”

“True,” Judith agreed, beginning to pace and fighting the urge to bite her nails. “I cannot just stay here and have a nervous breakdown!”

“We don’t have a choice,” Renie pointed out, taking her eye medication kit off of the bureau. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“I don’t feel like drinking.” Judith stopped pacing and stared at Renie. “You aren’t wearing your patch!”

Renie’s smiled wanly. “My eye’s much better. I wish my nerves were.”

“Me, too.” Judith wandered over to the window. “There’s a boat heading this way. It looks like the police launch.” She turned back to face Renie. “Let’s see who it is.”

“Bill and Joe?” Renie asked excitedly, heading for the stairs.

“Wouldn’t MacRae call us if they’d been found?” Judith asked.

“Maybe the storm screwed up the phones,” Renie suggested. “The wind sounds like it’s blowing through the chinks in the castle walls.”

The cousins waited at the courtyard door. Five minutes passed. Judith and Renie exchanged several worried glances. Judith finally opened the door to peer outside. “Nothing.”

Another five minutes passed. Judith looked again. Several people Judith couldn’t identify in the gathering gloom were crossing the courtyard, headed for the Fordyce apartments. Except, she noticed, one lone figure was heading their way.

“Gibbs,” Judith said, leaving the door open.

Wind and rain blew into the entry area. Gibbs walked slowly, head down, shoulders slumped. He didn’t look up when he entered. “Patrick jumped out of the window and escaped,” he mumbled, and continued down the passageway.

“Whoa!” Renie said under her breath. “How does he know? Did he help Patrick get away? And why did Gibbs arrive in the police launch?”

Judith leaned against the door she’d just closed. “Patrick probably jumped out of the window at the inn. He’s very fit. He could do it easily.”

“Did Gibbs help him get away?” Renie asked.

“Maybe,” Judith said, “that’s why he left us stranded. Come on. Let’s ask him.”

The cousins headed for the kitchen. When they entered, there was no sign of Gibbs. His wife glanced up from the counter where she’d been peeling carrots. Mrs. Gibbs’s red-rimmed eyes indicated that she’d been crying.

“Where’s Gibbs?” Judith asked politely.

“I dinna ken,” Mrs. Gibbs mumbled, and dropped the peeler onto the floor.

“I’ll get it,” Renie volunteered.

The older woman’s hands were shaking. “Thank ye,” she said to Renie. “It’s all for naught.”

“What is?” Judith asked.

Mrs. Gibbs sniffed twice and wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. “Everything.”

Judith moved closer. “I don’t understand.”

“My whole life…wasted,” Mrs. Gibbs declared, avoiding Judith’s gaze. “Naught to show for it. A reckless son and a butchered grandson!” Her voice rose. “Work, work, work—and why? This was ours!” She swept a hand in a wide arc. “Then Matthew and his silly schemes lost it for us to that Fordyce! Bought it out from under us for not half its worth! The Master indeed! Och, Philip Fordyce is The Master all right! Treats us like slaves, he does! And now it’s finished.” She looked at the framed MacIver tartan on the wall. “My clan motto—‘I will never forget.’ How could I not remember how our lives were ruined?” Mrs. Gibbs turned on her heel and walked away.

“I’ll be damned,” Renie said under her breath.

“I’ve wondered about this whole setup,” Judith admitted. “The old folks working their tails off while Matt and Peggy travel the world.”

“Harry’s marriage was intended to bail them out?” Renie suggested.

“Very likely,” Judith said. “But there’s got to be more to it.”

“Like what?” Renie asked.

“I’m trying to sort through what Mrs. Gibbs meant,” Judith said, starting out of the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s go