Chapter One
Edinburgh, Scotland
May 2022
It made herheart hurt. Mila Carthson turned away and busied herself with the cardboard box of snacks and extra brochures, trying her best to honor her godson’s wishes. Robbie hated being watched whenever he struggled with something an average fifteen-year-old boy should be able to do. The poor lad was so small for his age. Skinny as a stick. Barely four feet tall, and that was when wearing his dress shoes with inch-thick heels. Bless him. When bullies weren’t teasing him for being awkward and brainy, they taunted him by saying he belonged in nursery school.
“Do ye want the cooler for the waters filled to the top?” he called out.
“Aye.” She added a knowing wink. “But leave room for a bit of ice. Ye know how Americans like their drinks cold.”
“Aww, feck!”
She ducked her head to hide a smile and struggled to assume a stern tone. “Language, young man.”
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “But I already jammed both ice bags into the food coolers. Under the egg and cress sandwiches. Ye know how fast they turn when it’s a warm day.”
He made a fair point, but the last time she’d provided un-chilled drinks to an American group, they left her a string of nasty reviews on every tourism site listing her as a guide. “The water must be cooled as well. Either unload and reload it or run and fetch more ice. The choice is yers.”
Robbie’s snorting huff made his druthers clear, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stormed down the lane in the direction of the corner market. Apparently, he had chosen not to unload and start fresh. Just as well. That would give her time to stow their backpacks and other necessities in the overhead rack. That chore always frustrated him because he couldn’t reach it without standing on a seat.
The cell phone in the back pocket of her jeans dinged. She hurried to check the text. It couldn’t be the market. She still had credit on their books. More than enough to cover another bag or two of ice. Or had he crossed paths with those boys again? Her jaw involuntarily tightened. She would skin those young brutes alive if they didn’t leave her Robbie alone.
The contact name across the screen put her at ease. Cari. From the hotel where today’s group lodged. Then she noticed the emojis. The text contained their agreed-upon signal for intel on tourists before she and Robbie picked them up. Red faces with a black band of curse-word symbols across the mouth. Ten times.
“All of them?” Still frowning at the screen, Mila typed ten question marks and sent it.
The phone dinged three times in rapid succession with the wordsALL OF THEM, followed by endless exclamation points.
She blew out a heavy sigh. “Lovely.” According to Cari, every member of today’s group was an intolerable arse. “Robbie will charm them,” she lied to herself while stuffing the phone back into her pocket. However, Cari was never wrong about ill-natured customers, and that message flagged this group as a high alert. It was doubtful even Robbie’s sweetness could overcome the snarling of ten cursey-faces. All she could do was hope.
“Got the ice,” the charmer in question said as he thumped it into the drink chest. While adding bottles of water, he glanced up and pulled a face. “And Gunner asked about ye. Again.” He rolled his eyes, then faked a gag.
“Gunner is a nice man,” she chided while inwardly celebrating she hadn’t been the one to go for the ice.
“The bloke needs a bath, and I heard he killed all three of his wives.” He forced the overfilled cooler lid shut, sat on it, and bounced for good measure. “Poisoned’m and keeps their bodies in the meat locker in the basement.”
She had heard the same and was still amazed at the ridiculous gossip some folks repeated. “He does smell a bit, but do ye not think it would be discovered if he kept their bodies at the market? The butcher’s lad would surely see them when he delivered the day’s meat.”
Robbie shrugged, bounced again, then frowned down at the cooler. “Going to have to take a few bottles out. Reckon twenty will be enough? Long day on the road, and ye said there’s ten of them. Twelve counting us.”
“I put thermoses of tea as well as canisters of water in our packs along with our lunch. That leaves two waters for each guest.” She helped him gather the excess bottles and carried them back inside. “If we run short, we can always get more at Stirling. Ranald owes me.”
“Better step lively, then,” he warned. “Or we’ll be late for pickup. Cari sent anything about this lot yet?”
She decided to show him the text and let him draw his own conclusions.
“Bloody hell.”
“Robbie!” Even though she agreed, every time the boy swore, his mother’s disapproving spirit nudged her conscience. Dearest Tana, best friend and taken from this world much too soon, never tolerated coarse language from anyone. “What is with ye today? Did ye have another row with those mean boys?”
“I may not look like it, but I am fifteen now.” He puffed out his narrow chest to stress the point. “That is how teenagers talk, ye ken?”
“Take these and get on the bus, aye? We will discuss it later.” She handed him two more bundles of brochures and shooed him onward. She understood the intent of his bravado but wasn’t sure how to handle it. One way or another, there had to be a way to help him manage the hand life had dealt him and come out on top. She understood his struggles. Introverted to the point of dreaming of a life on a deserted island, she still fought against skittering away from situations that made her uncomfortable. She did much better now than she used to do. He had to learn to press on and manage his insecurities, just as she had.
She locked up and hurried after him, taking an appreciative sniff of the new-vehicle aroma that permeated the bus. This first tour of the season would chase away that clean, never-sat-upon upholstery fragrance. A shame, really. She loved that new-auto fragrance. As she buckled in, she adjusted the mirror that enabled her to keep an eye on her passengers. “All set?”
Robbie gave her a thumbs-up from the seat directly behind her where he minded the coolers and snacks. “Ad astra per aspera.”
