Page 3

C rystal ran the coarse wool blanket into her wavy long hair, squeezing the damp into it. Outside the narrow windows she could see that the sunlight grew brighter, but it was still cold air that whooshed in every time the door opened.

As she shifted in the chair she felt her phone in her pocket, and suddenly stood up. She pulled it out and attempted to turn it on. It was soaked and dead.

"Great." She set it in front of her feet hoping the fire would dry it out and it would miraculously work again.

She turned to the table next to her where a few men sat.

They were dressed like the fisherman, but looked rougher and more gruff.

Crystal opened her mouth to ask if she could use one of their phones, but decided against it.

Being the crime writer she was, she felt suspicious of everyone.

She would simply have the hot beverage and dry off a few more minutes then ask the owner of the tavern to use their business phone line.

"Here you are, lass." Gavin returned with a hot mug of tea and a glass of whisky.

"Thank you," she said, taking both. She poured the whisky into her hot tea and took a sip. The liquid instantly warmed her. It was much stronger whisky than she anticipated though and she felt it burn all the way down her sternum to her belly.

"They'll bring you a hot bowl of soup. I traded them a fresh catch of fish for it, so I'll return in a bit. Gotta get that fish from my wagon," he said.

Crystal watched as Gavin walked out of the tavern and she was completely confused as to why he wouldn't just pay money instead of trade a fish. Were they really into their character role playing this much?

A grunt could be heard over her shoulder. She turned to see the Innkeeper sliding a bowl of soup onto the table, then walked away.

"Okay, not very chatty here," she said. Then she turned her body and inhaled the scent of the soup. "Oh, smells delicious."

She lifted the tin spoon and gave it a strange look, then dove into the dish. "Oh my." The soup was unlike any soup she'd ever had before. It was so fresh and every vegetable tasted like it was somehow grown in the Garden of Eden itself.

Gavin returned and sat at the table. "You warmed up, lass?"

"Yes. Thank you. This soup is incredible.

Gavin, you really saved me. I promise when I can get to my purse I'll make sure to give you some money.

Whatever they're paying you in this reenactment thing can't be much.

Do you think that someone will let me use their phone?

" she asked. She dipped the spoon into the soup again and she shoved a large amount into her mouth, not worried about looking elegant.

Gavin gave her a strange look and Crystal assumed it was because she had just stuffed her cheeks.

"Lass, your questions are out of my ability to answer.

I'll alert the Watch to your presence. The Laird likes to know when the likes of you cross over.

One of the Watchmen usually show up here around this time, but if they don't I'll send a message to the Castle for you. "

"Come again?" Crystal asked, unsure of anything that he said.

He didn't answer, but continued on as if she hadn't asked for clarification. "Best be staying here at the inn for today. I's not safe around here right now."

"Why isn't it safe?" she asked as she looked around the tavern with caution.

Gavin furrowed his brow, then stood up, but again didn't answer her question. "I'll speak with Wallace, the Innkeeper, see if there's a room for you. I think I can talk him into makin' the Laird pay for it." He walked away to the bar counter before she could ask a follow up.

She buried her head in the soup, and took a bite of the piece of bread at its side. "Wow. So good."

As she ate and became more satiated, she grew angry.

Getting to a phone was important so that she could call the authorities on Mason.

The more time that passed, the harder it would be to track him down, she knew that from writing crime fiction.

It worried her even more because she really did think she was in Scotland based on the past hour.

Somehow Mason must have gotten her out of that bar and onto a private jet bringing her here to Scotland.

She didn't know what his purpose of bring her here was, unless he'd thought he was dumping her dead body.

He had to have given her some kind of drug and thought he'd overdosed her.

He did say he worked in pharmaceuticals, the jerk.

From the table she sat at, opposite of the front door, she could see that every person was in hushed conversation that seemed rather intense with worry. The men who sat at a long table near the front door and directly in front of another fireplace, seemed to be the most engaged in conversation.

The front door swung open and Crystal felt the cold air hit her bones, but what truly sent a chill up her spine was the man who strolled in.

He was very tall with a broad chest and a way of entering the room that let everyone know not to mess with him.

His gray eyes seemed to lack empathy. His dark brown beard was unkempt and wooly and matched the messy crop of hair on his head.

However, what truly stirred her were the scars on his face.

The man drunkenly swaggered in with another man on his heels, who was much younger and looked to be related to the man, only with a leaner stature and brown eyes.

Crystal froze in her seat because she knew these drunk types were looking for a fight and to pick on anyone who got in their way.

It was obvious to her they had been drunk all night into the morning.

Luckily, before the man laid eyes on her, the Innkeeper crossed from a table toward the bar counter and caught his attention.

"Wallace, you mule, where's my ale," the broad chested man shouted.

Wallace looked terrified and scrambled to get the man a drink.

Gavin quickly walked over, blocking her view of the man and sat down across from her at the table and whispered, "Pull the blanket up over your head and wrap it around you, lass."

"But—"

"Just do what I say."

The terror in Gavin's eyes led Crystal to obey, and she quietly and slowly pulled the blanket up, until only her face was peeking out.

"You there, that's my seat," the huge burly man said to the men seated at the long table in front of the fire by the door.

The men groaned, but didn't disobey and moved to a different table in the corner. The two men sat when the others departed. Wallace placed two large mugs of ale in front of them, then followed it up with a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese.

"Who is that?" she whispered to Gavin.

"Cameron Gilroy is the big one, and the other is his younger brother Billy. They're dangerous, lass. Don't want to be gettin' near them lot," he whispered back. "Keep your head low. Don't look their way."

Crystal nodded and shifted on the bench so that the side of her face, which was covered by the blanket, was aimed at the brothers.

She didn't want any reason to have more drama than she already had, even if this was part of some sort of role playing scenario.

Though the more time she spent in the tavern, she began to think it wasn't role playing at all, which only made her feel sick.