No. They were hiding. And Jules wasn’t hiding well enough. Even though she was well hidden beneath branches and shadows, she wanted to inch back into the trees, but she couldn’t move. Her arm and legs were frozen with fear, as they had that night when Nikkos fell to the floor. She hadn’t moved then either. She’d blended in. Gabby hadn’t even looked around to see if any of his restaurant employees might have been working late. Freezing in place had saved her then. Apparently her body thought it was a good enough plan to try again.
Great.
She took a deep breath, then another. She just had to relax. It was just like the bears she imagined outside her car windows. They weren’t real. Maybe the danger she felt wasn’t real either. She just had to be brave enough to look.
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement to her right. There were now two blue forms at the entrance of the castle grounds, jumping up and down. Weren’t they a little too old for that?
Thankfully, she found her arms willing to move once more, and she raised her glasses for a better look at the pair of lunatics.
At the bottom of her hill was a road and beyond that, a wide parking lot. Between it and the crumbling outer wall of the castle was a bridge of land the width of a car. Once upon a time, there would have been a moat and drawbridge, she figured. Where the wall began, there was also a large gate that opened inward. Next to this gate bounced the blue sisters.
Juliet realized three things. First, the sisters were looking right at her. Second, they weren’t doing jumping jacks; they were flapping around trying to get her attention. And third, the man on the North hill couldn’t see them.
Or so she hoped. She swung the glasses in his direction to be sure.
The tripod hadn’t moved. The knees were gone, but as she scanned the area, she found a man’s torso. When he ducked to take a bite of something in his hand, she saw him.
Sunglasses. It was already too dark for those. The sun was nearly down. Dark shadows had already started creeping up the side of Castle Ross. It was too late for a good shot—at least with a camera.
The man straightened and moved. She watched patiently for a better glimpse of him.
“Don’t be Greek. Don’t be Greek,” she chanted.
Finally, she saw his head. It was covered with long orange curls. For a minute, she thought it was just the trick of the sunset, until she realized the bright hair was all natural. Not a Skedros, then.
Not a photographer. Not a Skedros. Either a hired hitter, or the FBI. FBI agents tried to blend in. This guy, with his lion’s mane of bright hair, wouldn’t blend in anywhere—maybe not even Scotland.
A hitman then.
She was dead. Her chances for survival just rolled away, down the hill, out of reach. The smart thing to do would be to get in her car and drive away. Act as casually as possible as the road would either take her down the hill and past the castle, right where he was watching, or up and back the way she’d come, about twenty feet from where his car was parked. Maybe he wouldn’t consider she’d blackened her hair and wouldn’t give her a second look. Once she was out of sight, she would have to high-tail it to Edinburg, turn herself in to the police and hope the FBI could come and save her. It was her only choice.
Fire or frying pan?
She was out of money. Nearly out of gas. And if she didn’t think of something quick, she’d be out of hope.
She looked back to the sisters. They’d seen the man. They’d seen her, and yet they were still waving. She had absolutely no idea what they could have deduced from that, but they seemed to be beckoning her inside the grounds. Did they sense her danger, or were they out of their minds? Why would they want to help her when they had no clue who she was?
Maybe they’d seen the man’s gun and freaked out. But she couldn’t just run down there and let them help her. She’d be putting them in danger. A hitter wouldn’t think twice about collateral damage.
But with no gas money, what choice did she have?
For just a second, Jules allowed herself to imagine the large dark Highlander, coming up