Page 29 of The Boathouse by the Loch (The Scottish Highlands #4)

Jake loosened his grip on the gun.

‘NO!’ somebody shouted. ‘Don’t drop it!’

Jake wasn’t listening. Then just as he dropped it, someone crashed into him, knocking him sideways.

The gun went off. Jake felt a sting to his temple, like a paper cut.

He was lying flat on his stomach, and somebody was holding his hands in a vice-like grip behind his back, pinning him to the floor.

A voice, muffled, was asking, ‘Is everyone alright?’

Jake recognised Patrick’s voice, and he could see, with his head turned sideways, the other men struggling to get up.

‘We’re OK,’ said Virgil, ‘but he isn’t. Look – he’s bleeding.’

Patrick loosened his grip. ‘Are you alright, Jake?’

Jake could feel a trickle of blood from his temple.

‘Are you alright?’ Virgil asked Patrick. ‘That was quite a move at your age.’

‘I’m fine. I had a soft landing.’

‘Get off me,’ Jake struggled, but Patrick had him in a police lock; the more he struggled, the more it felt like his arms were being pulled out of his sockets.

‘Easy, son,’ said Patrick. ‘Virgil, pick up that gun and pass it to me.’

Jake watched Virgil pick up the gun.

‘Get up slowly and take a seat,’ said Patrick in a slow, deliberate tone. ‘Do you understand?’

Jake nodded. He felt his hands being released and the weight being withdrawn from his back.

Jake slowly got up and saw Virgil pass the gun to Patrick.

Jake did exactly what the man pointing the gun at him told him to do; he sat in the chair.

He looked anxiously from Patrick to the four other men in the room and wondered what they were going to do to him.

But Patrick’s friends were more concerned with the overturned table.

He watched them pick up the table and scoop up the chips and cards from the floor.

Every now and then, Jake glanced at Patrick.

Jake was hoping that Patrick’s attention might wander so that he could bolt for the door.

While he waited, he was forced to listen to the old men complaining about stiff joints and bad backs after their spell on the floor.

Jake turned his head, first left, then right, noticing the distinct change in noise level as he did so.

He rubbed his right ear and realised he’d lost his hearing on that side.

He was silently debating if it was a burst eardrum or whether the gun going off had left him permanently deaf, when Patrick shouted out, ‘What are you doing?’

Jake was just about to explain that he was feeling absurdly emotional over his new-found disability, when he realised Patrick wasn’t looking in his direction.

‘What are you doing?’ snapped Patrick for the second time.

Jake followed his gaze.

One of his friends had picked up the phone on the kitchen counter. ‘I’m dialling the police. He can’t get away with barging in and ruining our game. I can’t even remember my hand. ’

Jake felt like launching himself at the man; a young girl was missing and all he could think about was his card game?

‘Put the phone down,’ said Patrick.

‘Say what?’

‘Put it down. I’ll deal with him myself.’

Jake slowly turned his head to look up at Patrick, who was standing there coolly, still pointing the gun in his direction.

‘Go home, all of you.’

‘But …’ they objected, ‘we’re not leaving you alone with this lunatic.’

‘He’s not a lunatic.’

Jake stared at Patrick.

They all shuffled to the door. ‘Do you want us to help you look for your granddaughter?’

Patrick shook his head. The police must be out there right now, looking for her. I’ll let you know if – when – we’ve found her …’ He trailed off.

Jake put his head in his hands.

‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’ said Virgil.

‘Go.’

Virgil turned to Jake before he headed off. ‘You know, he just saved your life. That gun could have landed on the butt and fired a shot right between your eyes.’

Jake touched his forehead. ‘You thought the gun was fake. So, why did Patrick do that – push me out of the way of the gun?’

Virgil said, ‘Second nature. After all those years on the force, your training just kicks in, and you react accordingly.’

Patrick nodded.

Jake resumed holding his head in his hands, consumed with thoughts of Natty and where she might be. He felt helpless .

The front door clicked shut and the voices grew faint as Patrick’s friends walked down the hall.

Patrick pulled up a chair and sat. He held out a clean white handkerchief. ‘Here. Go on, take it.’ He thrust a handkerchief at Jake. ‘Clean that up.’

Jake reluctantly took it and carelessly dabbed at his temple, wiping the blood from the side of his face.

‘What are you doing here?’

Jake was surprised by the question. ‘What do you mean – what am I doing here? I thought I made that clear. I came to find Natty.’

Patrick said, ‘Have you got a thing for my daughter?’

‘Pardon me?’

‘Faye.’

Jake dropped his eyes to the floor.

‘Oh dear. That’s going to be a problem.’

Jake looked up sharply. ‘Why – is she still in love with Yousaf?’ he blurted.

‘I wouldn’t know about that. In fact, I very much doubt it, not after what she alleged he’d done.’

Alleged . So he still doesn’t believe her , Jake thought. Still, he was relieved to hear that Patrick doubted she still held a candle for Natty’s father. But he had to ask, ‘Why is it a problem, then?’

He looked Jake up and down, and said, ‘You’re young and good-looking.’ Patrick waved the gun, pointing at Jake with the firearm. ‘You’re not some sad, lonely old fart like me. You could find someone else.’

Jake glared at Patrick. He didn’t want someone else. He wanted her.

‘And from what I hear, you’re not short of a bob or two.’

Jake slowly shook his head in dismay. Why was it when you were rich, your bank balance seemed to be everybody’s business? Even by training to teach, he couldn’t escape his past. ‘Who told you that?’ said Jake coldly.

‘You did,’ said Patrick, casting his gaze down to the floor, which was littered with Jake’s wad of bank notes.

‘So, if I’m so young, good-looking and rich, why are my feeling towards Faye a problem? Do you think she won’t be interested in me, in that way?’

‘Oh, that’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Then what are you saying?’

‘After Yousaf, Faye is committed not to have a relationship, you know that – right? Of course, she has date nights, but nothing will ever lead anywhere. She doesn’t want men in and out of her life who won’t be sticking around.’

‘Who says I won’t stick around?’ Jake’s attention was drawn to the gun. He wanted to leave, get out of there, resume the search for Natty. What were they sitting around talking for?

Patrick’s hand might be resting lazily in his lap, but Jake wasn’t fooled; it was still pointed in Jake’s direction, with Patrick’s trigger finger at the ready.

Patrick followed Jake’s gaze. ‘I’m keeping hold of this, if you don’t mind,’ he said, lifting the gun off his lap and aiming it at Jake. Perhaps you’d like to tell me where you got it from.’

Jake shifted nervously in his seat. ‘No, I would not.’ He was in enough trouble as it was, without implicating Aubrey. At first, Jake had thought it was a good sign that Patrick had stopped his friend from calling the police. Now he wasn’t so sure.

‘I see.’ Patrick regarded him for a long moment before changing the subject. ‘I want to know everything that’s happened so far in relation to my granddaughter’s disappearance. ’

‘Give me one good reason.’

‘I thought I already had.’ he waved the gun at Jake. ‘I’m assuming you had nothing to do with it.’

Jake was out of his chair like a shot. ‘Have you lost your mind? Why on earth would I take her?’

‘Because you’ve grown very fond of Faye, and she might not feel the same way.’

He waved the gun at Jake to sit back down.

Now Jake understood what he was still doing there. He was a suspect. ‘This is insane.’ Jake added through clenched teeth, ‘I was in Scotland. I flew back as soon as I heard.’ Jake put his hand in his jacket pocket.

Patrick slowly stood. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting out my boarding pass to show you.’ Jake put his hand straight on the boarding pass, and threw it at Patrick. ‘There. And just for your information, I would never take Natty away from her mother, or let any harm come to her. I bloody swear. I just want them both to be okay.’

Patrick pointed the gun. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

Jake turned around. ‘I’m going to find Natty.’ His gaze dropped to the gun. ‘Are you going to shoot me with that thing, or can I have it back?’ Jake looked past Patrick at the card table. He was about to find out whether his hunch was right and Patrick, like himself, had been bluffing.

A minute’s stand-off ended with Patrick handing over the gun. ‘I guess you haven’t got a licence for that thing.’

Jake didn’t answer that.

Patrick lowered the gun and said, ‘Let me help you find her.’

Jake sighed. ‘Natty talks about you.’

Patrick looked taken aback. ‘She does? ’

‘Natty asked me why she doesn’t see her granddaddy anymore.’

The old man’s pained face at this news confirmed that he was sincere. But the fact that Patrick knew nothing about his granddaughter’s disappearance hours earlier meant only one thing: Faye hadn’t contacted him. She didn’t want him involved.

Jake stared at Patrick, at a loss as to what to do next. He’d been convinced he’d find her there. He turned to the door. He could still smell something. ‘What is that smell?’

Patrick said, ‘It’s the gun. The smell of sulphur from the gunpowder lingers for some time after a gun is fired. It would be on your skin too, if you’d actually fired it.’

Jake pulled a face. ‘It smells rank.’ He wondered how long the smell would linger, and whether Aubrey would guess the gun had been fired – that was, assuming he could sneak it back undetected.