“What are you looking for?” Graeme asked.
Dougal looked up and shook his head vigorously. “Nothing. I was—” He shook his head again. “Nothing.”
Graeme poured himself a drink and downed it in one gulp, then poured himself another. He swore and fell into one of the chairs.
“Mother told me she didn’t die,” Dougal said.
It was a sad attempt at comfort, but Graeme offered his brother a nod. “No, she’ll heal quite nicely. It wasn’t a very good shot. Makes me think that perhaps they were aiming at me.”
“You?” Dougal asked, taking a step closer to his brother. “Why would anyone want to kill you?”
“A variety of reasons, I suppose, though none immediately spring to mind.” Graeme eyed his brother, and something in his demeanor seemed out of place. He couldn’t make eye contact with Graeme, and his hands alternately fisted at his sides, then clasped in front of him. He was nervous. Very nervous. Graeme leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “What do you know, Dougal?”
Dougal frowned, but then took two steps backward. “About what? I don’t know anything.”
“You know who shot Vanessa.” Graeme came to his feet, walking toward his brother. “Don’t you?”
“Why would I know that?” Dougal asked, his voice hitching in mid-sentence. Again, he shook his head.
“I don’t know why.” The urge was there to grab the boy by his shirt and shake him until he admitted it. But Graeme swallowed the impulse. This was no common thug; this was his brother. The boy had seen or heard something, and now he was scared. “What do you know?”
Dougal said nothing, merely looked out the window.
“Is it someone I know?”
Again, Dougal said nothing, but his eyes jerked to Graeme’s face and then down to the floor.
“Is it Niall?” Graeme didn’t think the man had it in him to murder. Hell, he had his own wife and child. He was a doting family man, madly in love with his wife. But greed or obsession could corrupt the most genuine hearts. And Graeme had threatened him, not to mention told Niall about Vanessa. Perhaps he should have kept his wife a secret to protect her.
Dougal kept his gaze averted.
“Have you seen Niall since he arrived?” Graeme asked.
Dougal shrugged.
“You went to see him?”
“Perhaps I did.” The boy looked up at Graeme for the first time since he’d entered the study. “It’s none of your damned business.” Again, Dougal’s eyes flashed with intense anger, much as they had earlier that night.
Graeme ignored the anger. Hell, he remembered being furious at that age; having a reason had never been necessary. “Who was with him?” It seemed quite likely that his brother might have seen Niall’s partner.
Dougal did not look away, but he didn’t answer. Graeme put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Dougal, it’s important. Niall might be in trouble. The men of Solomon’s even asked me to look after him, ensure he was safe.” Graeme knew he was being unfair adding that last part. Dougal had always been a little obsessed with all things English, in particular Graeme’s affiliation with the exclusive club.
His brother exhaled slowly. “An Englishman. Older, said he was a treasure hunter.”
Hairs along Graeme’s neck stood on end. “What did he look like?”
Dougal winced. “Fair-haired. He dresses well. His name is David.”
An older treasure hunter with blond hair and his name was David. But certainly he wouldn’t be so bold as to come here to Scotland and attempt to manipulate Graeme’s brother? Graeme shook his head. Of course he would be that bold, and bolder still. Graeme swore. “Stay away from your cousin and that perfect gentleman. He’s more dangerous than you realize.”
Dougal exhaled loudly and walked to the door. Then he paused. “I’m sorry, Graeme.”
Graeme shook his head. There was no reason to blame his brother. “You didn’t know.”
Dougal opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and instead simply slipped out of the room.
Graeme sat and put pen to parchment. He had to get notice to Fielding immediately. It appeared as if Graeme had just located The Raven.