Page 95 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“How long would it take to get there?” Priya asked.
“By foot?” Rory said. “Three, maybe four hours. The terrain is pretty rough—lots of elevation changes, dense forest. And we’ll need to cross one of the tributaries of the Moriston—not the main river itself, buta smaller stream that feeds into it. Luckily we won’t have to climb any mountains, per se.”
“There’s no way we can drive?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“No,” Felix confirmed, fiddling with the map. “Besides, even if we tried off-roading with quad bikes or something, the vehicle signatures would definitely be picked up by anyone monitoring the area. Walking is the best option.”
“Then we walk,” Rory said. “The challenge will be smuggling you two out of here. We’ll have to creep the long way back to the manor house, off the main path. Then Maxwell and I will bring our car to the edge of the gravel. You guys can jump in, hopefully undetected by the cameras, and then we’ll drive through the gate, and find somewhere to park the car.” He marched with confident strides toward the stairs, as if lit with renewed purpose.
“Wait,” said Felix. “Just to be clear, Dev’s phone only connected for a few minutes this time. And…” He hesitated. “It didn’t make any calls or send any messages. It just… connected.”
“What are you saying?” asked Rory, blinking at him.
“You know what he’s saying, Rory,” said Priya. “He’s trying to manage your expectations.”
A sudden, visceral image slammed into my mind with such force that I nearly dropped my mug.
Dev’s body sprawled in a forest clearing, limbs at unnatural angles. Blood matting his dark hair. Eyes open, vacant, staring at nothing. The rich smell of decomposition mingling with pine.
The image wasn’t mine. It had burst from Rory’s mind with such intensity that my defenses crumbled. I staggered slightly, gripping the back of the armchair to steady myself.
“Maxwell?” Priya’s voice sounded distant. “Are you alright?”
I blinked, forcing the horrific image away. Rory stood frozen, his face drained of colour, hands trembling slightly.
Our eyes met. He knew I’d seenit.
“I’ll… go get dressed,” he said, voice unnaturally calm. “Everyone, be ready to leave in fifteen minutes.”
Without waiting for a response, he disappeared up the stairs, footsteps quick and deliberate.
Felix and Priya exchanged glances.
“Well,” Priya said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Look at Mr. Organised, ordering us around. Has Maxwell been rubbing off on him?”
I half choked on the last sip of my tea, the words twisting themselves into an innuendo.
“You okay there, Detective?” Priya asked, eyebrow raised.
“Fine,” I managed, setting down my mug. “Just… went down the wrong way.”
She pinned me with her gaze.
God help me if she ever found out exactly how Rory had been rubbing off on me.
Killigrew Street meetings would never be the same again.
The Highland wilderness stretched before us in all its rugged glory—a panorama of heather-covered slopes, ancient pines, and rocky outcrops. In the distance, a mountain peak loomed against the slate-grey sky, its summit lost in wisps of cloud. If I’d been here on a hiking trip, I’d have appreciated its beauty more.
My shirt clung to my back, sweat trickling down my spine despite the cool air. Rory, in a ridiculously bright tie-dye T-shirt that rather distractingly clung to his frame like a second skin, had set a brutal pace from the moment we’d left the cottage. The short sleeves left his arms bare as he moved with determined strides, as if he could outrun his own dark thoughts by sheer physical exertion.
I’d fallen back with Felix, who held a tablet connected to a satellite transceiver to help keep us on track.
“You could put that away, you know,” I suggested, wincing as he nearly tripped over an exposed root.
“Can’t,” he muttered, not looking up. “Just in case Dev’s phone pings again. You never know.”
Ahead, Rory gesticulated wildly as he spoke to Priya. My stomach tightened. What was he telling her? Just howbusywe were last night? I couldn’t imagine Rory keeping anything from her.
