Mallyne Farm near Inverlochy village, 2020
Amber heard steps outside the front door and raised her head.
“Amber Ryan, stop worrying.” Her aunt shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. “It’s only Rob. He went to feed the cows.”
Amber sighed and poked her porridge with a spoon. She’d been here for a week. She should’ve gotten used to Rob, Aunt Christel’s son, feeding the cows and sheep first thing in the morning. And she should’ve started liking porridge. Where was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when she needed it?
At least her aunt had good coffee. Her mug sat on the checkered tablecloth steaming with a comforting aroma. The rustic kitchen was bathed in sunlight, but it was still cool, even in summer. Old Scottish farmhouses were probably never warm.
Or maybe Amber was just too used to the summer heat in Afghanistan. The thought sent a shiver through her, and she glanced at the door again. She was safe for now. No one was coming for her.
Yet.
“I should leave you guys soon,” Amber said. “I need to keep moving. Sooner or later, the police or someone will come here with questions.”
“Aye. Well”—Aunt Christel shook her curly red hair—“you know that neither Rob nor I will say a word.”
Amber reached out and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, it means so much that you believe me.”
Aunt Christel squeezed her hand back. “I knew your father, lass. He was my cousin, and I spent every summer with him for eighteen years. And I know he didn’t raise a murderer. People easily use a gentle soul like you. So, aye, I believe you were set up.”
Amber released a shaky breath. It felt good to know that even though the government thought she was a murderer, she had people in her life who were on her side. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t keep her from a death sentence or life in prison.
Aunt Christel took another sip and studied Amber with her soft brown eyes. “But, sweetheart, you’re not a coward. You can’t live on the run your whole life. What’s the point? You can’t have any friends. Can’t marry. Can’t have children. Always looking over your shoulder, seeing shadows.”
Amber fingered a white porcelain flower at the base of the cup handle. She knew her aunt was right. Amber had joined the army because she wanted to see the world, fight for her country, and protect innocent people from terrorists.
She wasn’t the type to cower from a fight, so why was she behaving like a coward now? Growing up, she hadn’t been afraid to take the blame for her three older brothers’ small sins, such as broken vases or scratches on the car. That had been her way of protecting them. But instead of appreciating her sacrifice, they’d treated her like a doormat.
“I know, Aunt Christel, you’re right. My mom raised me to be a good girl. To go to church. To live an honest life. Dad is probably turning in his grave watching me hide like this and not seek justice. Everything inside is screaming at me to stand up and fight and prove I didn’t commit that murder.”
“Aye. So why don’t you?”
Amber brought the cup to her mouth with a shaking hand, coffee threatening to spill on the tablecloth. She took a sip, her favorite drink tasteless against her tongue.
“I’d be a naive little girl if I trusted the system. Major Jackson is using me as a scapegoat. He managed to smuggle drugs from Afghanistan to America for years. So imagine how many people in the military he must have in his pocket. And now that he murdered a US officer, he’ll be even more ruthless.” She shook her head. “No. I cannot take him on alone.”
“Perhaps nae. But why don’t you ask your brothers to help? Jonathan was in the military, too. He knows people, doesn’t he?”
“Right.” Amber snorted. “Jonathan doesn’t want anything to do with me. He sold our house after Dad died, and everyone lives their own lives.”
Amber had still been a teenager when their mom had died, and the family had started to fall apart. After their dad’s death two years ago, they’d stopped meeting for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Kyle was a kick-ass lawyer in New York. Daniel was in San Francisco last time Amber had heard, still trying to sell his sculptures.
“But still,” Aunt Christel said, “if you ask for help… Kin is kin.”
“Maybe that’s how it is in Scotland. And I can’t thank you enough for helping me. But if I went to Jonathan for help, he’d be the first to rat me out to the authorities.”
Aunt Christel covered Amber’s hand with her own, and Amber squeezed it back, her caramel skin looking even darker compared to her aunt’s pasty complexion.
“Surely, nae, dear?” Aunt Christel said.
Amber sighed. “He wouldn’t risk his ass for me. He has the right connections in the military, I’m sure, but he also has two kids and a wife and a beautiful house.”
“But—”
“Police! Police!” Rob cried.
Everything moved in slow motion. There was the distant rustle of car tires. The front door swung wide, and Rob stood in the doorway, his silhouette black against the sun. “Police!” he shouted.
Amber jumped to her feet, jostling the table, and the coffee mugs and porridge flew off from the impact.
Aunt Christel cried, “Back door!”
Amber ran, her feet heavy, as though she were moving through a swamp. It was like she was trapped in one of those nightmares where she couldn’t get away from a killer.
The hallway flashed by, and she reached the old door. Unlocked, thank God! She raced out past the barn, into a field of oats. Her ragged breathing was louder than anything in her ears. Where was she running? Where should she go?
Away. She’d hide and wait nearby for a while and then come back to Aunt Christel’s to get her things. Then she’d leave. Go to the woods. Somewhere. Anywhere.
She wouldn’t be punished for something she hadn’t done.
Behind her, cars revved. She glanced back. They were coming right through the field after her. Amber gasped, adrenaline spiking.
Before her was a grove of trees. They wouldn’t be able to get through in their vehicles. She sped up. Thank God she jogged every day and did combat training. She still wouldn’t be able to win a footrace against cars.
She flew into the grove. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the shade of the trees after being in the sunny field. She ran through the trees for a while before she had to stop and catch her breath, her lungs desperately expanding to get more air. She looked around. Thirty feet or so in front of her, an asphalt road ran from left to right, and across it, in the distance, stood a castle. Right, the ruined castle her aunt had told her about. Behind it was River Lochy.
The cars chasing her turned. They’d need to take quite a detour to get on the road.
She ran again, across the empty road, then down the ditch on its other side, almost twisting her ankle.
She made it past the trees and the bushes to a crumbling wall of the castle. The wall extended between two round towers. There was an arched gate in the middle, and through the courtyard was another small gate. If she could just get there, maybe she could hide in the bushes beyond it or swim across the river. Although it was very broad, she was a good swimmer…
She ran inside the square courtyard. On every corner was a round tower. A red-haired woman stood in the middle, and the scent of lavender and freshly cut grass hit Amber. The woman wore a long green cloak and a dark-green medieval-looking dress.
“Here, lass,” he said and the woman gestured towards the entrance at one of the towers. “They’ll have a hard time finding ye here.”
Amber stopped and bent forward. She put her hands on her knees and panted. Her lungs ached and burned, and a piercing pain pulsated in her side.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Sìneag. I ken ye’re in trouble. Trust me. Ye dinna have much time. They’re coming.”
Tires screeched against the asphalt. Voices.
“Arghhh!” Amber cried in desperation.
Her pulse thumped and she was running out of time...
