The Torchbearer ✓

Chapter 11

The Torchbearers operate a 24/7 open door policy at all of their facilities, from homeless shelters to the head office, and everything in-between. Jackson now stepped into the foyer of the office building he had visited earlier that day.

Since dropping off his new friend, Kurt, he had been consumed with guilt regarding Sabrina. His heart has suffered, as hers had no doubt. He felt deeply ashamed and had almost succumbed to the urge to go to her and give her comfort a number of times.

That's what I should do, but I can't. Not now. I'm in too deep.

Jackson had to block her out for the time being, just to concentrate on the matter at hand. He had sent a silent message to her through the night as he drove, knowing she wouldn't hear him, I love you.

But he had to deal with the matter at hand, which was to confront the prime suspect of an abhorrent mass murder (in Jackson's eyes) who had lied to his face so nonchalantly.

The receptionist was the only person he could see in the foyer. Not surprising, it was now close to 8 o'clock, but he had heard that the Dhan could spend up to 18 hours in the office working so diligently for the greater good of society. Or so the public was led to believe. Jackson had grown sceptical of this recently.

The receptionist didn't notice him at first, so Jackson cleared his throat once he was stood at the desk.

She looked up, startled, and hid her mobile phone somewhere under the desk.

"Oh, you again." She said, not unkindly. The unorthodox greeting coming alongside the minor fright Jackson had just given her.

Jackson smiled warmly, sparing her blushes. "Yes, me again. I need another chat with the boss, is she in?" He asked.

"No, she left just after your meeting earlier, I thought she would be back after 10 minutes or so but..." She gestured, palms upward, to demonstrate her cluelessness before she continued, "She still isn't back."

Something about her wording stood out to Jackson, causing him to give a slight raise of his eyebrows. "What makes you say 'still isn't back', surely she's just gone home for the night."

"Priya always works late and she left her umbrella." She pointed to a huge-looking umbrella with an ivory handle that was the only resident of an ornate umbrella holder.

"She always leaves with her umbrella when she goes home, come rain or shine. Just another one of her quirks."

Jackson's heart had started racing at the mention of the Dhan leaving her office just after he made his own exit. But now, he felt a bolt of panic flash across his mind.

Something about how earnest this receptionist was eliminated the possibility of her lying to him, so the Dhan had made a speedy exit for some reason. But why? Jackson had a sinking feeling that another murder could be on the cards.

"OK, thanks."

She thanked him in return and went back to killing time. Jackson left the building and headed for Kurt's Mercedes.

His perplexing conversation with the Dhan earlier flashed back across his mind. He suddenly knew where she had gone. He intended to follow. Someone else might have called him crazy.

Jackson knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she had fled. He also knew where she had gone. Somewhere she would feel safe. While she may have lied to him about other things in that meeting, Jackson knew she had told him the truth about her Scottish retreat. He had seen it in her eyes.

***

The Dhan had arrived at her family's farm an hour ago, once darkness had set in for the night. The wind skirled around the Trossach hills, and caused the house to creak ominously. Never mind the wooden outbuilding.