Murder Most Remote Page 2

  The winds hit Sandy as soon as she pushed the bed and breakfast front door open. She ran across the road to where Tom’s car was parked and opened the door to let herself in.

  “Anyone would think you’d never felt a gust of wind before.” Tom teased as he joined her several seconds later after a relaxed stroll across to the car.

  “I don’t mind it back home, but I thought you were supposed to get better weather on holiday!” Sandy said with a laugh as Tom entered the postcode for the storage unit and began to drive.

  “Good point.” Tom said.

  They drove in a comfortable silence down tiny, winding roads with fields on either sides. Occasionally a sheep stood in the middle of the road and refused to let them pass. Every new scene seemed to be more beautiful and breathtaking than the last.

  “Seriously?” Tom asked in disbelief as he slammed the brakes on the car. Sandy forced her gaze, which had been looking out of her window to the sea, back to the road ahead of them, where a group of enormous Highland cattle stood. They had blocked the road entirely.

  “Oh, wow. They’re beautiful.” Sandy said. The creatures were taller than the car and covered in a thick, shaggy caramel coat. Giant horns protruded from their heads. Sandy moved to open the car door.

  “Stop!” Tom called. He dove across the car to take her hand from the door handle, then gave an awkward cough and moved back across to the driver’s side.

  “What was that about?” Sandy asked in amusement. Tom’s cheeks were red, his forehead looked moist.

  “I, erm, well, they’re dangerous animals…” Tom stuttered.

  “Are you scared of cows, Tom Nelson?” Sandy asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Not scared, Sandy Shaw, just sensibly cautious. They’re bigger than me, those animals, so they’re definitely bigger than you!”

  “What are we going to do, then? We need to get these wild beasts off the road. This guy’s already annoyed enough to have to see us this late. We can’t keep him waiting.” Sandy said.

  Tom shrugged his broad shoulders then pressed the horn.

  The cows moved across to the field and, luckily, not towards the car. Their movements were leisurely, as if they were used to being sounded out of the road, which they probably were. One of the largest defiantly left its front legs on the road and, as Tom drove slowly past the group, the cow’s face was just inches from his window.

  “We survived!” Sandy said with a laugh. “They are stunning, aren’t they? What a sight. I wish we weren’t in such a rush, I’d have sat there happily and just watched them.”

  Tom gave her a strange look. “You have an unnatural interest in Highland cows, Sandy.”

  Sandy laughed. It was true, actually. She liked all animals. One of her favourite games as a child had been pretending to be a cat or a dog. She would crawl around the house while her mum dusted and polished, meowing or woofing, until her mum would fetch her a bowl of water and set it down on the kitchen floor. The memory made her smile and think of how the cat had entered her life. She’d almost forgotten how much she liked animals, it had been so long since she’d had a pet. She really must give the cat a name.

  “Here we are.” Tom said. He had turned onto what could barely be called a track. Fisherman’s Bluff, said a tattered sign nailed to a tree.

  Sandy glanced at Tom but he was focused on the path.

  The track gradually climbed a hill, winding around groups of trees, until they reached the highest point, where the cliff edge was revealed to them. The sea, now reflecting the dark blue sky with moonlight shimmers bouncing from the waves, was just metres away.

  Sandy felt her stomach contract. “Are you sure this is the right place? I can’t believe a storage unit’s up here?”

  As she said the words, a light flashed ahead of them. Headlights. Tom continued to drive towards them and as they drew closer, a large barn was revealed in the darkness. An old Land Rover, not dissimilar to Sandy’s trusty vehicle back home, was parked outside and a man stepped out as Tom parked a few metres ahead of him.

  “Sandy Shaw?” The man asked in an accent she couldn’t place.

  She nodded and held out her hand, which he shook once with a firm grip.

  “Tom Nelson.” Tom said and he offered his own hand. The man gave him such a firm handshake that Sandy heard Tom’s hand crack.

  “Books are in ‘ere.” The man said. He turned and lead Sandy and Tom towards the barn, which was even bigger up close. He pressed a button on a keypad and the metal doors opened wide, revealing a modern and brightly-lit interior that was bursting with cardboard boxes.

  “Wow.” Sandy said.

  “Ignore the smell.” The man said, but offered no further explanation. Sandy guessed that the barn usually housed animals and wondered where they had been sent to make room for the books. “Go on, take a look.”

  Sandy stepped forward into the barn, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of boxes there were.

  “They won’t bite.” The man said, with a laugh. He opened one of the boxes and Sandy peered in. Military history books. She began to examine a few titles as the man opened other boxes for her. Every book she checked was in immaculate condition.

  “Are they all in this condition?” She asked.

  The man looked at her with his mouth set tight. “I’m not tryin’ to con ya, lass. You need books, I need rid. That’s it.”

  Sandy’s cheeks flushed. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “I know.” The man said. He was abrupt and Sandy realised that this wasn’t easy for him. That saying farewell to his book shop had been a hard decision to make.

  She nodded and returned her attention to the boxes he had opened, feeling obligated to at least glance at them all. They were all full of specialist interest titles, the things that readers would travel for, and pay a fair price for.

  “What price are you looking for?” Sandy asked.

  He named a price that was even lower than she had been lead to expect.

  “I’ll take them all.” She said. “I can organise for them to be collected in the next few days, if that’s okay?”

  The man nodded and held out his hand. Sandy braced herself and allowed him to shake her hand again.

  “Pleasure doin’ business with ye.” The man said. He lead them out of the barn, the shutter closing as he did, and for a moment Sandy thought she had become blind. The world had become perfectly black in the time she had been in the barn. She placed her hand in front of her face and was stunned to note that she couldn’t see it at all.

  She reached out for Tom’s hand and felt him jump.

  “Steady on lass, your husband’ll be after me guts.” The man exclaimed, and Sandy realised she had grabbed the wrong man.

  “Oh my! I’m so sorry! It’s so dark out here, sorry, I…”

  Tom clicked his car keys and the headlights illuminated the short distance to the car. Sandy grabbed hold of Tom and walked carefully with him back to the vehicle. By the time they climbed in the car, the other man had already started his engine and moved to drive past them. He gave a wave as he went.

  “Oh my gosh, Tom.” Sandy gushed as she put on her seatbelt.

  “Worth the trip?”

  “It’s an absolute bargain!” She said. “This new stock is a huge opportunity. It could really get me known as a quality bookshop for specialist interest books. I could squeal.”

  “Please don’t.” Tom scolded. “I don’t want you attracting those Highland cattle again.”

  Sandy laughed and reached across the car to give Tom’s hand a squeeze.

  “Thank you for doing this for me.” She said.

  “It’s my pleasure, Sand. I mean, we’re right by the cliffs in the darkest place that I’ve ever been to on Earth. What could possibly go wrong?”

  3

  Sandy watched as Tom devoured his black pudding. She cupped the mug of mocha that the bed and breakfast owner had agreed to make her when Sandy produced a sachet from her handbag, and gazed out of the window across
the fields. The scenery was even more entrancing in full daylight, and the sun was out and bright in the sky.

  Finally, her own breakfast arrived.

  Sandy waited for the woman to return to the kitchen, then whispered to Tom. “It’s like she’s related to Coral, bringing one plate out at a time.”

  Tom nodded, his mouth full of sausage and egg. “If she’s related to Coral, she’s related to you.”

  “Hmm, good point.” Sandy said. She had opted for beans on toast, not wanting a large, heavy breakfast, but she was envious as she watched Tom work his way through his full Scottish.

  “Want some?” He asked as if he had read her thoughts.

  She grinned and reached across the table with her fork, then speared the end of his sausage and took a bite. “Mmm.”

  “So, what shall we do today?” Tom asked as she chewed. The meat was delicious and she could tell it was high-quality. She regretted her beans on toast even more. “I saw this in the hallway for guided tours of Mull Castle, do you fancy that?”

  He pushed a leaflet across the small table towards her and Sandy picked it up. The cover featured a photograph of an old castle, complete with Scottish flag flying proudly. She looked at the inside of the leaflet and saw how stunning the architecture of the castle appeared in several photographs.

  “Mull Castle, eh? Seen better days that place has.” The B&B woman said. She had appeared at the table with a plate piled high with doorstep-thick white toast smothered in butter.

  “Isn’t that the point with a castle?” Tom quipped.

  The woman raised an eyebrow in response, then shuffled away, her pink slippers worn down on the sides.

  Sandy giggled as she retreated into the kitchen. “That was cheeky, Tom.”

  “I don’t think the Scottish get my sense of humour.” Tom said. “There was a Scottish boy in my class at school and he never liked me.”

  “Ooh, such extensive research!” Sandy laughed.

  Tom grinned, revealing the dimple in his cheek. He was so handsome and at ease with her. “So, fancy the run down castle?”

  Sandy nodded. “I do, actually. I’ve not been stomping around a castle since I was little.”

  She could vaguely remember a trip out to a historic fortress with Coral and her mum as a child. She didn’t know where her father had been, but in her memory he was absent. She remembered the building being almost rubble, and imagined that it must have been closed for years now as the world became more aware of health and safety. But back then, with the sun on her freckled face, she had hung from a window hole high in the air, the only thing preventing her fall being a flimsy length of rope.

  “Let’s get going then.” Tom said. He mopped up his baked bean juice with a slice of toast and took a bite, and Sandy took a long, last sip of her mocha. Although it was sunny outside, she knew it would be cold, and was glad she’d got several layers of clothing on. She quickly thought of how many couples spent their first holidays in sun-drenched destinations where they could show off toned bodies and flattering summer clothes, and shook her head in amusement. Her vest top, jumper, scarf and rain mac made her look shapeless, but she didn’t mind. She was finally growing confident in her own skin.

  Tom stood up and pulled his own rain mac on, as the B&B woman appeared by their table again. They seemed to be the only guests she had.

  “Off out then?” She asked as she gazed up at Tom with a girlish grin on her ruddy face.

  “We’re going to brave Mull Castle.” Tom said as he double-wrapped his scarf around his neck.

  The woman shook her head, causing her fleshy cheeks to wobble. “You tourists can’t find enough ways to waste your money.”

  “Thank you for breakfast.” Sandy said to try and change the subject.

  “You’ve not finished yours.” The woman said, and Sandy looked at her plate. The toast had grown cold and soggy underneath the beans while she had been busy looking at Tom’s full Scottish. “See what I mean? Wasting money.”

  Sandy felt her cheeks flush. “I’m sorry, it was very nice, I’m just not very hungry.”

  “Sandy has her own cafe.” Tom offered by way of explanation as Sandy silently urged him to stop talking. “She finds it hard to eat in other establishments.”

  The woman glanced between the two, her eyes beady and intense. “I’ll remember that tomorrow.”

  “Come on, Tom, we need to go.” Sandy urged. Tom gave her an awkward smile and followed her out of the dining room and down the hallway, then through the front door and out into the fresh air.

  He unlocked the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat, then punched a postcode into the sat nav.

  “She seems nice.” He said after a few moments as he began to drive. Sandy’s head jerked towards him and she checked his face for any sign he was being ironic. “It must be strange living out here, don’t you think?”

  Sandy considered the question. As beautiful as the Isle of Mull was, it was barren. They had seen only a few buildings on the island so far, and hadn’t passed another vehicle on their journey. There were small clusters of shops and pubs, but Sandy doubted they would have time to explore those.

  “I’d love a few days here.” She admitted.

  “Really? I thought you were chomping at the bit to get back?” Tom asked.

  “Yeah.” Sandy said carefully. She had been nervous about leaving Books and Bakes, but now that she was away from Waterfell Tweed, with Tom all to herself, the thought of just a few more days away to relax seemed like bliss. “I guess I’ve realised they can cope without me. And I’d like to see that little…”

  “Tobermory?” Tom prompted.

  “That’s it!” Sandy exclaimed. “You’ve heard about it?”

  He nodded. “It looks beautiful. I could spend a few hours in the pub there watching the world go by. Wow, talk about a busman’s holiday - take the publican to the pub!”

  Sandy laughed. “I wouldn’t mind keeping you company in a cosy pub.”

  Her phone beeped then and she glanced down to see a new message. She could feel the heat of Tom watching her as he pulled over to allow a car to pass on the single-lane road.

  “Bernice.” Sandy said as she swiped to unlock the phone.

  “What does it say?” Tom asked.

  “Stop worrying! Everything’s fine here. Glad the books were what we need - see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Tom exclaimed. “We won’t be home before the cafe closes.”

  “I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” Sandy said nervously. “I’m sure she isn’t expecting me back in work tomorrow.”

  Tom nodded, but the mood in the car changed as they approached the castle. Her relaxed, holiday vibe had disappeared. She suddenly felt guilty for being away from the shop, as if she had rang in sick when all she wanted to do was have a day at home watching a trash TV marathon.

  “You’re doing it.” Tom said.

  She looked at him and realised that she was on the edge of tears.

  “Oh, Sandy. Bernice is more than capable of running the shop. Not saying you’re not needed or anything, but you’ve been out a fair bit investigating the murders lately. They’ve all learnt how to manage without you.”

  “That’s true.” Sandy said. “How do you manage to take time away from The Tweed without feeling guilty?”

  Tom flashed a smile. “I don’t take any time away. So I’m probably not the best person to give advice. What are we like, eh?”

  Sandy smiled and stroked the top of his arm gently.

  She’d heard the natural way he described them as ‘we’ and enjoyed the warm sensation it gave her.

  4

  Mull Castle sat atop a bluff, visible for the last ten minutes of their slow journey on the narrow, winding roads.

  “Wow.” Sandy said as she walked up the grassy hill, her hand linked with Tom’s.

  “Impressive, isn’t it? I’d have loved this place as a boy!”

  It was easy to see why. The castle itself was everyth
ing a child would love and even Sandy expected a dragon to fly out from behind it at any moment.

  “Hurry up!” A shrill voice shouted down at them from the top of the hill. A small man with large glasses and a gleaming bald head stood in front of the castle, waving his arms madly towards them. “Hurry up!”

  Sandy and Tom glanced at each other, shrugged, and increased the pace of their walk until they were level with the man.

  “Is everything okay?” Sandy asked, her words laboured with shortness of breath.

  “You’re late!” The man exclaimed with a glance at his watch. “It’s really not okay to keep others waiting. Let’s move it.”

  He set off at a brisk pace towards the castle and Sandy followed him.

  “What are we late for?” Tom asked.

  The man turned, his face red with exasperation. “The guided tour, of course! You’re the last two. Hurry along! I really can’t make it any clearer.”

  “Come on, Tom.” Sandy called, with a wink. He walked quickly and caught up with her.

  “We’re not booked on the tour.” He whispered to her.

  She flashed him a mischievous smile. “I think it’ll be fun. And whoever he thinks we are, they’re clearly not coming.”

  A cunning smile crept across Tom’s face. “I like this side of you, Sandy Shaw.”

  **

  The tour guide led Sandy and Tom through an archway that took them to the gardens within the castle grounds. Sandy imagined that the space may have once been a trading ground, or market area, but it now served as a picnic space. A group of tourists sat on picnic benches in stony silence.

  “The latecomers are here.” The guide said. He threw his hands up in the air.

  “What kept y’all?” An elderly woman in a fur coat asked in an American twang.

  “We had trouble finding the place.” Tom said. “Our apologies.”

  “Is that all of us now?” A teenage girl with a pixie haircut asked in the same accent as the older woman.

  “Yes, this is it.” The guide said. “If I can have your attention, please. The tour will last for roughly one hour. It is a walking tour and we must remain together. The castle is in most ways exactly as it was back when it was built, so expect small spaces and dark areas. If you are squeamish or unfit, you should consider staying here. At the end of the tour, I will answer questions. Let’s go.”