She understood. It wasn’t a matter of trusting the inspector, but the more people who knew their location, the bigger the chance of that information getting out.
Michael seemed preoccupied. She watched him for a minute and then remarked, “You’re working something out in your mind, aren’t you?”
“Just going over tomorrow’s schedule.”
“The only appointment we have is with Donal Gladstone.”
He nodded. “I’d like to go to MacCarthy’s office either before or after your appointment. Sinclair has officers there. He’s probably on his way to MacCarthy’s house now.”
“Danny told me Dunross is a tiny village,” she said. “MacCarthy’s office can’t be far from Gladstone’s.”
“Danny’s the fast talker at the police station, right?”
“Yes, Danny had firsthand knowledge of what a mean bully Harcus is.”
“How’s that?”
“Danny’s brother-in-law, Tim, and his pregnant wife, Laris, have lived in a small cottage on Glen MacKenna for several years. They were just sitting down to supper one night when Clive Harcus knocked on their door and told them that he was the owner of Glen MacKenna and that their rent had been doubled. They had five days to pay up or a late fee would be tacked on. Can you believe it?”
She didn’t wait for Michael to answer. “Tim stood up to Clive and said he wasn’t going to pay him anything.”
“Who did Tim usually pay the rent to?” Michael asked.
“Graeme Gibson, the groundskeeper.”
“What did Harcus do when Tim refused to pay him?”
“He told him he’d be sorry and left. The next evening Tim was walking home alone and Clive ambushed him. Danny said Clive’s a big man, and he beat Tim near to death. He broke his jaw, Michael. Tim ended up in the hospital and had surgery. His jaw is still wired shut. Can you imagine how painful that would be?”
“Was Harcus arrested?”
“Yes,” she answered. “He’s out on bail now, but he’s bragging to anyone who will listen that he never touched Tim and he has witnesses who will testify on his behalf. It was dark out and Danny told me Tim’s wife is begging him not to testify against Harcus. She’s terrified of him.”
“I wonder how many other complaints there have been.”
“Danny said Harcus’s temper is explosive. He must not have impulse control.”
“Apparently not.”
As he drove through the darkness, looking for road signs to navigate his way, he thought about their plans for the next day. “We need a map of Dunross.”
“You might be able to pull up directions on your laptop. I know Gladstone’s office address. It was easy to remember. His office is at 3 Lickey Lake Road.”
“Lickey Lake?” Smiling, he said, “Yeah, that would be easy to remember.”
He pulled over and called Sinclair to get MacCarthy’s office address. When he ended the call, she said, “I’ll bet it isn’t too far from Gladstone.”
He laughed. “Not far at all. MacCarthy’s address is 3 Lickey Lake Road. They’re in the same building.”
“Could they be partners?” she wondered. “And if so, should we trust Donal Gladstone now that we know MacCarthy hired men to kill me? Could he be in on it?” She continued without letting Michael respond. “Still, he asked Detective Walsh to talk to me because he was worried about me, and why would he do that if he was in on it? If he trusts Donal Gladstone, then maybe I should, too.”
Isabel tilted her head back and stared up at the vast night sky, catching glimpses of the moon through breaks in the clouds. An old song she’d composed came to mind, and she began to softly hum it.
Michael liked the melody and asked, “Did you write that?”
“Yes, I did. It’s a romantic song about everlasting love and commitment. I call it, ‘What a Crock.’ ”
He burst out laughing. “I swear I never know what you’re going to say. ‘What a Crock’? When did you become so cynical?”