Draycott Eternal Read online

  “Not everyone is as good as you are, Ian.”

  “Then they shouldn’t be in the business,” he said coldly.

  Nicholas stared out at the moat. Three swans cut a perfect path through silver waters, ruffling the reflection of Draycott Abbey’s granite walls. “What you might not know is that Jamee Night is personally worth somewhere in the area of twenty million dollars, thanks to her wedge of Nightingale Electronics stock. Her parents started out in a makeshift workshop in their basement and last year, annual revenues exceeded two hundred million dollars. For that kind of money a lot of people would kidnap their own mothers.”

  Afternoon light shimmered off a row of precious Murano glass paperweights, casting sparks of light over the face of the woman in the photograph. Ian picked up another photo. Here Jamee Night laughed as she shoved her brother Adam down beneath a great oak tree. Nearby, her other brothers cheered her on, one leaning on a cane while the other aimed a gun holding huge sponge arrows. The third sat on the branch of an oak tree, looking very proud of his family. Their love for one another was a tangible part of the photo, as marked as their exuberance.

  Maybe nearly losing a sister to kidnappers made you appreciate the basic joys of life, Ian thought grimly. “What’s her itinerary when she reaches London?” he asked, curious in spite of himself.

  “She’s set to arrive in Scotland two weeks from today. I thought you could pick up her trail in Edinburgh and keep her secure after that.”

  Light danced over the four smiling faces, drawing Ian into their laughter. He thought about his own boyhood, regimented and lonely, without the company of any siblings. Beautiful or not, a fifteenth-century castle in the Inner Hebrides was a solitary place for a boy to grow up. There had been little laughter at Glenlyle Castle, especially after…

  Forget it, Ian told himself flatly. The curtain was definitely down on his professional career. Taking this job would be irresponsible—not only to himself, but to the vital, laughing woman who tantalized him from the photo.

  “There’s more, I’m afraid,” Nicholas said. He tapped the lanky figure astride the tree branch. “Two years ago, Jamee’s older brother, Terence, was run down when he pulled a pregnant woman out of the way of a drunk driver. Mother and child were fine, but Terence didn’t make it. It was a nasty blow for all of them.”

  Ian made an angry sound and dropped the sheet back on the desk. “The answer is still no, Nicholas.” His fingers tightened on the polished arm of the wing chair. “I can’t. Not this time.”

  “Can’t. Or won’t?”

  “Sometimes the two are the same,” Ian muttered, staring into the fire.

  “For other men, but not for you. I know that damned Glenlyle stubbornness of yours. I followed you up a mountain in the blinding snow when you were seven, remember?”

  Ian gave a low laugh. “Exhilarating, wasn’t it? When we weren’t worrying that we would die of frostbite.”

  “Or fall off a cliff,” Nicholas added.

  “Or be skinned alive by our parents when they found out what we’d done.” Ian’s smile slowly faded. “But the answer’s still no.”

  “I see,” Nicholas said slowly.

  He didn’t see, of course. No one did. Ian meant it to stay that way. Pride demanded nothing less.

  He frowned as he heard Nicholas crossing to the door. “I meant it, Nicholas.”

  “Fine. In that case, you won’t mind telling Jamee’s brother the same thing.”

  Ian slammed to his feet. “Dammit, Nicky, I—”

  The door opened on a man with high, chiseled cheekbones and relentless eyes, his features immediately recognizable from the photo. Adam Lonetree Night cleared six feet and his wiry frame was all muscle. He moved in utter silence through the room, wearing a suit Ian recognized as the product of Savile Row’s finest tailor. Oddly, the beaded band circling his forehead did nothing to mar the effect of cool, understated elegance. Every step he took made Ian think of a sleek wild creature restrained beneath a thin veneer of civilization.

  The American held out one hand. “A hell of a request, isn’t it?”

  Ian couldn’t help grinning, surprised by Adam Night’s frankness. “You could say that.” He shook Adam’s hand, then stepped back. “At any other time I might consider it, but now—” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, it’s out of the question.”

  “You come very well recommended. I’d hoped…” Something bleak swept across Adam Night’s face before he looked away.

  “Have you established a motive yet? Is it a terrorist, an ideologue or someone with a straight financial motive? An estranged employee, perhaps. The motive will be key to choosing your tactics.”

  Adam pulled a file from his briefcase. “Here’s what we have so far. It isn’t much, I’m afraid. We’ve kept up long-range surveillance of our sister in Asia and found nothing unusual. But someone has shown undue interest in our family banking records and three attempts have been made to access private financial files kept on our corporate computers.”

  “Any idea who?”

  “Not yet. Only that they’re smart and they seem very well equipped.”

  “Never a good combination.” Ian glanced through the half-dozen sheets in the file. “You’re using Ryan Nicholson’s team for the surveillance of your sister in Asia?”

  “That’s right. He came highly recommended by Lord Draycott.”

  Ian nodded. “You can trust his findings. He used to work at Security International. A good man. He doesn’t embroider and he doesn’t make guesses.” Ian pulled out another photograph. Jamee Night smiled up at him, this time standing beside a waterfall and wearing two orchid leis. Her vitality fairly jumped out at him from the photo. No mistake about it, Jamesina Night was beautiful, her eyes snapping and her smile electric. “Taken on vacation in the islands?”

  “On business. Her designs fill two of the largest hotels in Hawaii. My sister has a design cooperative on Maui employing thirty people.”

  Ian tapped the file. “What about her itinerary in Scotland?” Have you checked for possible target points?”

  “We’re trying.” Looking uncomfortable, Adam Night rubbed his neck. “Her final destination is a place called Dunraven.”

  Ian’s brow rose. “Duncan MacKinnon’s estate?”

  Adam nodded. “She has personal business on the way. Then she planned a visit with Duncan’s wife, who has commissioned several textiles for Dunraven Castle.”

  “I see. And you want someone who can blend in with the locale, is that it? Someone who can get close and stay close.”

  Adam nodded eagerly. “Exactly. I’ve been told you’re the best, Mr. McCall. Since Jamee is dead-set on this visit to Scotland—”

  “Why don’t you just tell her what you’ve found?” Ian asked abruptly. “Surely that would convince her to postpone her trip.”

  “I can’t do that. She’s spent too long learning how to forget, how to trust and be independent. Until we have something solid, I don’t want her confidence shaken.”

  “Security International has dozens of people who know the Highlands as well as I do. There’s Nicholson and his team—”

  “They’d stick out after Asia. She’d recognize them in a second. We sent them in undercover as a team of petrochemical engineers. Though they haven’t yet gotten very close, I’m sure she would remember them. White men tend to stand out in the Asian hill country.”

  Nicholas cleared his throat. “Jamee is wary of bodyguards, Ian. She doesn’t like to be…crowded.”

  Adam gazed out the window at the dark line of the distant hills. “She’s worked hard to put the memories behind her. She’s careful, she checks in with us every week, but she wants to have some semblance of a normal life.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t have that luxury anymore.”

  “You know about the kidnapping, I take it?”

  Ian nodded.

  “After that, I suppose we all spoiled Jamee. Maybe we smothered her, too. My sister doesn’t care much for security peo
ple, Mr. McCall. As for surveillance—well, she isn’t thrilled with that, either. It makes her feel claustrophobic.”

  “Feeling claustrophobic is a hell of a lot better than being kidnapped.”

  “You’re wrong,” Adam said grimly. “To my sister they’re the same. After she was seized, she was held in a locked closet in total darkness. She lived on food and water shoved in through a hole. But she is a fighter. She refuses to become a prisoner to her past. I intend to do everything in my power to see that she doesn’t have to.”

  Ian ran a finger along the edge of Jamee’s photograph, captivated by the frank joy in her face. What must it have cost her to keep that joy in the face of her painful memories. Then losing her parents and her brother…

  There was a knock at the door. Nicholas Draycott’s butler entered, garbed in meticulous black set off by a pair of blinding orange running shoes. “Your call to Bali should be coming through at any moment, Mr. Night. Shall I transfer it in here?”

  “Thank you, Marston.” Adam glanced at Nicholas. “Can we put it on speaker?”

  “Of course,” Nicholas said. “But why—”

  “Blackmail,” Adam said bluntly. “I’m hoping it will help change Mr. McCall’s mind.”

  In spite of his irritation, Ian felt a gleam of respect for Adam Night’s honesty and persistence. Not that they would do the least bit of good. “It won’t work.”

  “I hope you’re wrong, Mr. McCall.” Adam smiled at Marston. “Maybe you should bring my brother in, too. He must be pacing like a demented gorilla by now.”

  Marston chuckled. “An apt description. I shall fetch the gentleman.” The butler’s lips twitched. “Assuming that I can pull him away from his electronic gaming device.”

  William Wu Night strode through the door ten seconds later. His tawny eyes and Eurasian features were arresting, and he moved with relentless energy. Ian decided that William Night probably had the kind of exotic good looks that fascinated women—and irritated their husbands.

  “Dammit, Adam, what’s going on?” William scowled at his adoptive brother, ignoring the sleek electronic game module that winked in his hands.

  “I’m speaking to Mr. McCall,” Adam said patiently.

  “McCall, eh?” William studied Ian, then stuck out his free hand. “Are you as good as they say?”

  Adam sighed. “William, please.”

  “What?” William Night’s features tensed in a frown. “I’m just asking the basic questions here.”

  “If he wasn’t good, do you think he would tell you?” Adam asked.

  William crossed his arms defiantly. “I still want to hear it from him.”

  Ian was saved from answering when William’s wristwatch began to chime softly. “Dammit, why haven’t they reached her yet? Maybe there was another coup over there. Maybe she was caught in a mudslide. I knew we should have kept her from going off to Java or whatever blasted place she went to this time.”

  “She’s in Bali now,” Adam said calmly. “And stop worrying, William.”

  His brother paced impatiently. “I can’t stop worrying. I don’t want Jamee wandering around some powder-keg country in the middle of Asia.”

  “Bali is stable, William. They haven’t had any government coups in the last few years.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” William Wu Night glared at the small electronic module in his hands. He expertly demolished two attacking extraterrestrial fighter craft, nuked an alien mother ship, hit the hyperdrive, then shoved the portable game prototype into his pocket. “Not one damned bit. And the call has taken twenty-eight minutes, forty-two seconds already. Something’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Adam insisted.

  “Blast it, Adam, they should have found her by now. Maybe she’s had some kind of accident. Maybe she’s been…” His voice was anguished as he held his brother’s gaze.

  “Jamee has not been kidnapped,” Adam said fiercely. “Do you think I’d let her wander through Asia without protection?” Adam sighed. “I’ve had someone assigned to keep tabs on her since before she left San Francisco last month.”

  William’s eyes lit with interest. “Someone from that company in London?”

  Adam nodded. “Security International also happens to be Mr. McCall’s company.” He frowned at Ian. “But perhaps I should be calling you Lord Glenlyle. That is your title, I believe.”

  “Ian will be fine.”

  William fidgeted with one cuff. “If Jamee would stop wandering from one side of the globe to the other, things would be a whole lot easier.”

  “For us. Not for her,” Adam corrected.

  “That’s exactly what Terence would have said,” William muttered irritably.

  “And he would have been right.” Adam glanced at Nicholas and Ian. “Terence, our brother…he died two years ago.” Adam’s jaw hardened. “Forgive us for our bickering. It’s become something of a habit, I’m afraid.”

  At that moment, the phone rang. All four men looked expectantly at the desk.

  After a nod from Nicholas, Adam crossed the room and pushed a button on the speaker phone. “Jamee, is that you?”

  A breathless voice cut through a cloud of static. “It’s me, Adam.”

  Ian felt the small hairs rise at the back of his neck. His hands tightened on the arm of the chair as he listened to what sounded like drums and chanting.

  “What’s going on, Jamee?” Adam demanded.

  “Sorry, Adam. They’re having some sort of ceremony here.”

  “No more walking on coals, I hope,” William called.

  “Is that you, William?” His sister laughed delightedly. “No, the firewalk was in India. By the way, William, how many alien droids have you demolished today?”

  Williams eyes gleamed. “Sixty-one.”

  “So the boy genius is losing his touch, is he? Last month it was over two hundred.”

  As Jamee Night’s throaty laughter filled the room, touching every corner with sunlight, Ian felt his body tighten. He wanted to stand up and walk out, away from temptation.

  Away from the sound of that vibrant, unforgettable laughter.

  William leaned toward the phone. “No way. This is a new program I designed. The old one was too easy.”

  “Show-off. So send me a sample and I’ll test-rate it for you. You know I always beat you in the hard levels, where flexible thinking is required.” Her voice rose against the constant drumming. “Adam, are you still there?”

  “Right here.”

  “Is Bennett there?”

  Adam slanted a glance at William. “No, Bennett ducked out of this business trip. He’s minding the store in San Francisco.”

  “I’ve got good news for him. I’ve found a place here in Bali that will manufacture those voice-synthesizer units he wanted. A long-term contract will give the village some economic stability. After the weather they’ve had, they desperately need any help they can get. They’ll need a turnkey operation and close initial guidance, but they’re skilled in general circuitry already. Send over the specs, will you?”

  Ian frowned. The woman was smart, as well as having an amazing voice.

  Not that either would influence him in the slightest.

  Adam chuckled. “Can we skip the finder’s fee since it’s all in the family?”

  “Dream on, big brother,” Jamee said. “How else am I going to finance all this traveling in search of new fibers for my weaving?” Abruptly, the drumming rose in a roar, drowning out Jamee’s voice.

  Against every inclination, Ian found himself sitting forward, straining for her next words.

  There was only the sound of drums.

  “Jamee, are you still there?” Adam demanded.

  “I’m afraid I have to go, Adam. The chief is offering some kind of boar’s head.”

  “When will you be back?” Adam asked tightly.

  “I’ll finish up next week. Did I tell you I found a county where they can make up silk cocoons to my special design? They
were burning the broken cocoons in the fields to keep away the birds. Burning silkworm cocoons, can you imagine that? Now I’ve really got to go. The chief’s son is about to model one of my ikat sarongs. He’s got great teeth, did I tell you? And he has this amazing tattoo that runs across his back and all the way down to his—”

  Adam shot a glance at Ian and hid a smile. “I can guess exactly where it runs. Just you be careful over there.”

  “Be careful of men with tattoos,” William called out urgently. “You can’t trust them for a second.”

  “You have a tattoo, William,” his sister answered.

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m so worried.”

  “I love you idiots. Go find Bennett and play a game of touch football. While you do, think of me carving up a boar’s head. Heavens, now they’re bringing some kind of roasted insect that looks like an overgrown cockroach. I think I’m going to have to look honored with the gift. Talk to you next week.”

  “From where?” William bent closer, frowning.

  “Java.”

  “But you said—”

  The line clicked off in a burst of static. Ian sat back slowly, aware of a strange letdown in the wake of Jamee Night’s call. No, McCall. Out of the bloody question.

  “So she’s headed to Java.” Scowling, Adam rubbed his jaw. “As I recall, that’s an island southeast of Sumatra. Population roughly sixty million with the major language group being—”

  “Dammit, Adam, doesn’t it bother you?” William exploded. “She’s wandering around the world, taking risks we can’t even imagine and all you can do is quote language groups and population figures!”

  Adam’s sculpted features turned fierce. Ian realized this was a man he would not care to meet as an enemy.

  “Yes, William, it bothers me deeply. As my friend Nicholas knows, I would cut off my right hand to have Jamee back, just as you would. But she must come back because she chooses to—not because we want her to.”