The Lauderhill Legacy

Chapter 20

Marcie scrabbled to her feet and ran to Walter.

"Are you all right? Let me see that?" She pulled his hand away and used her shirttail to wipe away the blood. A deep gash ran from the side of his eye and down his cheek. "It's not too bad, Walter, I've got some first aid stuff in my pack." She ran back to the opening and leaned over to look out.

Andy was snagged head down on the bush they'd used to climb down with, his body frozen in fear as he stared straight down to the sea below, clutching the chunk of broken stone.

Walter winced and grumped as she cleaned the gash and put a stinging antiseptic and bandage over it.

"You'll need stitches I think, it's fairly deep."

"A scar to remember," he quipped, thanking her and following her back to the opening.

"What should we do?" She asked.

"Leave him?"

"We can't, Walter."

"I was kidding... although I'd like to. Give me a hand and we'll haul him up." Andy started screaming right away and he grabbed the side of the bluff with one hand and whatever else he could to prevent moving. "Hey, we're trying to get you up, pal."

"I'll fall! I'll fall! Don't move me!" Andy clutched at the rock face.

"Suit yourself. Eventually all that blood running to your head will drag you down anyway. And holding on to that chunk of stone won't help either."

"Walter! We have to help him."

"You heard him, he doesn't want help."

"I do! I do! Just don't let me fall!"

"Make up your mind, asshole. Either help us or it's goodbye, farewell and have a nice trip."

"Help me." The plea was so weak and so pitiful Marcee actually made an aaaaw sound that gave Walter a fit as he grabbed an ankle and began dragging Andy upward, face first over the rocks.

*****

Donald was more than pleased to watch Andy after placing a call to the police for Marcee. The trip back included a merciless grilling of Andy by Walter, who proved to be a more dangerous person than Andy ever dreamed of being, his informally bandaged face marred with streaks of dried blood only added to the menace.

By the time they docked he had confessed to being hired by Garfield Reece and how he'd been told to use his own discretion as to what was needed to get the treasure... whatever it was. Marcee was dumbstruck. Her own relatives had plotted against her and actually condoned the possibility of harm toward her in their greedy quest.

After a long wait in the marina pub, where the same group of fishermen studied the couple with confused amusement, the police finally arrived and after making statements and turning over Andy's gun, she and Walter headed back to Glasgow with Marcie forcing the little Ford to demands beyond considered reason.

Back in the Andover Walter sat patiently while a local doctor, making a very courteous house call, stitched his cheek. Meanwhile, Marcee was languorously showering away all the stress and mess of the adventure and her clear voice could be heard singing sweetly over the rush of water.

Walter thanked the doctor, paid him according to the bill presented and then wandered into the bathroom, taking a seat on the toilet and listening to her as he squinted at her shadow through the frosted glass, shower door.

"You already sang that verse," he called, causing a sudden silence of both singing and water.

The door slid part way open and she stuck out her dripping head. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Enjoying the music and the scenery."

"I'd appreciate a little privacy thank you." She closed the door and he could see her standing with her arms crossed. The classic stance of annoyance.

"Okay, I'm gone but don't be too long. I got dirty out there too you know."

"You're dirty anyway," She rebuked him, as he left the room.

Walter came into the bedroom from the shower drying himself just as Marcee hung up the phone and she gave him a world weary look. "A little overdressed aren't we?" She said sarcastically.

"Who was on the phone?" He wrapped the towel about his waist and gave a slight bow.

"The lawyer. I have to file more papers with the Chancery Court confirming the recovery of the family property on the family property."

"Huh?"

"The cameo. He says if we document that find then it will go a long way to accrediting the signed papers from the book; more ammunition as proof, he says."

"So do we have to hang around here then?"

"Just for another day. Andrew can have the stuff here this morning before lunch and then he has to formally file it and get some kind of legal receipt which we will need when we go to court back home. He said he would mail it to us."

"Why are we going to court back home?" Walter suddenly worried.

"To establish legal, sole ownership from other family members, namely the Reeces."

"Won't the police be after him over there?"

"Maybe. Depends whether or not the Scots want to have him charged along with our assailant."

Walter sat on the bed and fell back, arms stretched over his head. "So what then, we wait for the lawyer and then grab some lunch?"

"Do I want to be seen with someone that looks like that?" She pointed at the ugly track of stitches down his cheek.

"I have a dress bandage I can wear. It has a little bow tie and boutonnière."

"Cute, Walter." She stood and went to the dresser, searching a drawer for her stockings. "I'm going to change so do you mind uh..." She flicked her hand toward the bathroom.

"I have to leave?"

"Unless you want a matching dress bandage for the other cheek."

"Wow, some pal," he complained, hauling himself up and clomping across to the bathroom. "A guy risks his life for a person and he can't even watch her get dressed."

The yank on his towel sent him scampering into the bathroom and slamming the door.