I beamed at my father’s colleague as he knocked on Mac’s door and waited for him to call us in.
Jock didn’t follow me. Just nodded at me as he opened the door, and I gave him another smile in thanks. The door closed and I found myself standing in Mac’s suite, offering a different smile to my father.
He was here and alive and safe.
A massive bed sat in the middle of the room and didn’t even begin to take up space. Light spilled through an enormous bay window into the king-size room. Pale velvet curtains draped the window, and a light oak desk was situated beneath it.
There was a living area on a lowered level of the floor several steps down. More light spilled in from more windows on the same side as the bay window. A TV once sat in the living area, but Lachlan had a few guys come in and move the TV cabinet up into Mac’s bedroom so it was directly opposite the bed.
The color palette was different in this room than in Lachlan’s. More feminine. But I could see why he’d put Mac in here. All the silvers and champagnes gave the room a much more tranquil, restful feel than the heavy, traditional reds and golds found elsewhere in the castle.
“Are you just going to stare at me?” Mac teased.
“You look well.” I approached the bed, holding up the brown bag in my hands. “Roast beef and pickle sandwich from Morag’s. Times two.”
His expression brightened. “Hand it over, you darling girl.”
I chuckled. “Should I call for refreshments?”
“Mini fridge.” Mac pointed to the sideboard adjacent to his bed. “Inside the cupboard closest to me.”
I pulled up an armchair next to his bed, kicked off my shoes, and propped up my legs. Once settled, we ate in companionable silence.
During our last real conversation, I’d confessed about the shooting and that I technically died on the operating table and had to be resuscitated.
While I still had a lot to learn about Mac, I knew he wasn’t hiding his distress or anger that he hadn’t been informed. He didn’t voice his emotions, though. He’d just clamped his lips tight and seethed.
It seemed neither of us was very good at admitting how we really felt, even though it was pretty damn obvious.
Thankfully, Mac didn’t seem to hold a grudge. I’d asked him not to share what I’d told him with anyone. It wasn’t something I could easily talk about, and I didn’t want someone like Lachlan, for instance, throwing it into conversation.
I swallowed the last of my sandwich and settled my hands on my stomach. “I ran into McCulloch at Morag’s.”
Mac raised a questioning eyebrow, so I relayed the icy conversation with the ill-tempered farmer.
“That’s nothing. He’s said similar to me and everyone who would listen for years.”
“Well, I found it threatening.”
My father scowled. “Then I’ll be having words with the old bastard.”
“No.” I shook my head, lifting my legs off the bed to lean toward him. “I mean, the exact wording, the tone … it was very suspicious.”
“McCulloch didn’t stab me. The guy was at least five inches shorter than McCulloch. And younger.”
“How can you tell he was younger?”
“The way he moved.”
Understanding, I nodded, contemplating this. “Does McCulloch work alone? Or does he have farmhands? Grandsons? Anyone who might fit the description of your attacker?”
“I think he’s estranged from his only grandson. He’s worked his farm with Ross Inch for years, and Ross is closer to his age.”
I sighed and sat back in my chair. “Now that the estate’s security system is secure, the likelihood of another incident here is slim. And we have no concrete evidence from the other ones.”
Mac snorted. “You want something else to happen?”
“No, of course not. But without another incident, there is no chance for this person to slip up, and our chances of finding them grow slimmer.”
We contemplated each other in silence for a few seconds.
Then Mac asked, “Have you ever seen a stalker case before?”
“I was called out to a situation that turned into a case. Obviously, I wasn’t on it, but I kept an interest in it. A Boston socialite, Erica Reeves. A stalker. Turned out it was a shop worker in her favorite boutique in Back Bay. Developed an obsession with her. Did all kinds of nasty shit. Took months before he slipped up and left evidence. Got a warrant to run his DNA. Forensics matched him to sperm deposits he’d left inside gifts for her. Was arrested, got a few months. Waited awhile after he was out … eventually attempted to kidnap her. Thankfully, her security team caught him, but what they found in his car …” I shuddered just thinking about what he’d planned to do to her.
My father nodded. “He waited. He bided his time. But his obsession didn’t allow him to stop.”
Understanding, I sighed. “This person will strike again. It might not be now or next week or even next month … but they’re not going anywhere.”
“No, they’re not.”
“You know what I don’t get? You weren’t any closer to finding out who it was than I am right now. So why attack you like that? It doesn’t make sense. The level of anger and violence feels different from what we found around the estate. The incidents on the estate … I can’t put my finger on it. It feels wrong to say feminine, but …”
Mac plumped the pillows behind him, sitting up straighter. “I understand what you mean. My attacker was male. And he might have worn contacts, but he was furious. I could feel his rage, and it was definitely directed at me.”
Fear exploded through me at the thought of what might have happened if that knife had hit an organ. I lowered my eyes so Mac wouldn’t see how disturbed I was.
“Right …” I blew out a breath to steady myself. “But the incidents here on the estate directed at Lachlan, while growing increasingly agitated and angry … the
