Chapter 6 - 4
Once the large party arrived at the Highland Games, everyone went off to do what each needed to do. The girls all had to sign in for the dance competitions and get their numbers. Becky helped them with that. Frohike went off to track down the rest of the Gunmen. The other adults and Ian made final preparations in the booth for the day's sales.
Emma saw very little of her father, Byers, Jimmy and Langly but she knew that they were scattered around the grounds, trying to blend in and watching for their suspect. She never saw Yves or if she did, Emma did not recognize her in disguise. There were so many people and so much activity that it would have taken a great deal of concentration and close observation to recognize the mysterious woman in the crowd. Emma had too much to see and do to bother with something she had been forbidden to attempt anyway.
Between dances and costume changes, Megan, Rachel, and Emma would run back to the Scottish Sword and Shield booth to see how things were going or just to sit down out of the bustle for a while. Sales were respectable but not spectacular. There was a lot of interest in the antique swords and dirks but no one had bought any of them yet.
At lunchtime there was a break in the competition schedule. The three 'dancing princesses' as Bruce called them, went off to find a spot to eat their lunches of scotch pies and lemonade and to watch the mass bands. To Emma this was one of the high points of the weekend. Several bagpipe bands came to the Games every year to compete against each other.
During the Opening Ceremonies all the bands would march into the grandstand area playing in unison. The effect was nearly overwhelming. The sound of so many bagpipes playing the same song, the sharp sound of the snare drums, and the deep booming of the bass drums that you could feel in your chest. It was exhilarating and mournful at the same time. It made Emma think of her mother. This was something they had always shared.
A lone piper played 'Amazing Grace' in memory of those who died on 9/11. When the rest joined in, she barely managed to win the battle with her emotions. She wasn't supposed to suppress her feelings but there was a time and a place for that and this was neither.
During the boring speeches the folks that ran the Games insisted on doing in the middle of the massed bands performance, Emma looked around at the audience. She noticed a familiar face.
Surprised, she leaned out behind Rachel to get a better look. It had to be him. Emma poked Rachel in the ribs, "Don't look yet, but the man on the other side of you, two rows up, in the blue shirt…Okay, look now."
Rachel turned to see the man Emma was talking about. Megan had overheard the comment and looked at him also. "Yeah, what about him?" Rachel wondered.
"I know him. He's a friend of my dad's. I wonder what he's doing here?"
Megan gestured to all the people in the grandstands. "He's probably doing what everyone else is doing."
Emma shook her head. "I don't know. I told him about it and he didn't say anything about coming."
Rachel took another peek. "But he's wearing a kilt. He probably just didn't tell you he was going to be here."
"My dad and all the guys are wearing kilts. That doesn't mean anything."
All three girls turned and looked at the man again. This time he decided to smile and wave at them. His cover was blown anyway. He shouldn't have chosen a seat so close to them. He figured they would be too engrossed in the goings on down on the field to notice him. The only way to salvage the situation was to recognize the acquaintance. He got up and climbed down the bleachers to sit by them.
Emma made introductions. "Agent Doggett, these are my friends Megan and Rachel."
Doggett smiled and said, "Hello, girls, are you having a good time?"
Megan spoke for herself and her sister. "Yes, thank you."
Emma's curiosity bordered on rudeness, "You didn't say you were coming here."
"You spoke so highly of it, I thought I'd better check it out," Doggett lied but he did it well enough that Emma bought it.
Looking around the bleachers, she asked, "Did you come by yourself?"
He watched her searching and answered the question she didn't ask, "No, Monica is not here."
"That's too bad. She would have liked it, too."
"She wanted to come but she had something she needed to do."
"Maybe next time." Emma's matchmaking tendencies had the two of them paired off. Her first goal was to get Jimmy and Yves together but Monica and Agent Doggett where next on her list.
The dignitaries at the microphone continued to drone on and on. Rachel was getting bored and made a suggestion. "Why don't we go see the painting now while most of the people are here? We can hear the bands again tomorrow."
This sounded like a good idea. Emma asked Agent Doggett, "Do you want to come with us?"
"All right," he agreed, "Let's go." Doggett figured since he was busted he might as well go with them instead of trying to follow them when he would be too obvious. They climbed down off the bleachers excusing themselves to the many people who were trying to listen to the speeches. Once clear of the crowd, they headed to the building where the painting was housed.
"Is the kilt yours or did you borrow it?" Emma asked, trying to make conversation.
"It's mine."
"Seriously?" Emma was again surprised but then it did look like it was made for him and he seemed very comfortable in it.
"Yup. Clan Campbell, on my mother's side." He told the truth that time. The kilt was his and he occasionally wore it at formal family events such as weddings.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It never came up."
"But I talked about the Highland Games the last couple of times you came by the warehouse."
"I know but you never asked me if I was Scottish."
They arrived at the spot where they could view the painting. There was no line outside and only a very short one inside. Most of the Games participants were still awaiting the second half of the massed bands performance.
While waiting in line, Emma explained to her two young friends that Agent Doggett worked for the FBI. He was nice enough to show them his official FBI identification card, the one with his picture on it. Both girls were impressed.
They finally got close enough to see the painting. Doggett spotted an old friend across the hall. He excused himself to do a little catching up but still be close by. No one had gotten in line behind the girls so they were able to examine the painting undisturbed.
It was a lot bigger than they had imagined. Pat had been selling prints of it for years, so they were quite familiar with the picture but were not prepared for the fact that it was at least four feet tall and nearly eight feet wide.
"Wow, it's huge!" Rachel stepped back to get a better view.
"Yeah, the pictures Grandpa sells are a lot smaller." Megan noted. The prints of 'The Thin Red Line' had always been her favorites because of the story that went with them.
The painting showed the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders standing two deep, dressed in their red coats and dark green kilts. On their heads they wore tall, black bear hats each with a small, white feather decoration near the top. Their sporrans were made of long, dark horse hair and each pouch had six white tassels to decorate it. This was not the uniform of soldiers going into battle but of a platoon on parade.
The men stood bravely, facing certain death. Their bayoneted rifles aimed at the oncoming cavalry. In the misty distance, the commanding officers sat on horseback watching over their depleted army, undoubtedly proud of their men's unwillingness to give up when surrender should seem to be the only viable option.
The Russian army was represented by a single horseman, his sword arm raised defiantly but his head bowed in defeat, his horse collapsing under him. Next to him another horse struggled vainly to rise.
Emma carefully studied the painting. She knew the story and had always admired the bravery of the Highlanders it depicted. But standing there so close to it she felt a connection to these men who had lived so long ago. It was almost as if she was sharing the experience with them: the smoke in the air, the smell of the gun powder, the shouting of the men, the loud report of their guns and the screaming of the injured and dying horses.
First she felt the Highlanders' fear, then their grim determination but eventually their hope. It came with the realization that against all odds they were winning and, in the end, the day would be theirs.
Now she knew. Finally she could understand why someone would want to have this painting for his own. Yet, it also made her angry that anyone could be so selfish as to deny others the right to see it and to experience what she had when she stood in front it for the first time.
Momentarily distracted by her anger, Emma noticed something about the painting that she had previously missed. There were lights around the edge of the frame. They were soft, dim lights and they wavered a little in the air currents of the large room. At least that's what she thought at first. Emma turned to Megan, "I wonder why they decorated it with those lights."
"What lights?"
"The ones around the frame. They're so small. Then must be fiber optics or something." Emma leaned a little over the velvet rope to try to see them better. A security guard who was standing nearby cleared his throat. Emma stepped back giving him an apologetic smile.
Megan still couldn't figure out what Emma was talking about. "I don't see any lights."
Emma pointed to them. "Up at the top there's a bunch of them. See they're kind of swaying in the breeze. There are more down the side."
Rachel studied the frame closely but agreed with her sister. "I don't see them either and besides, there's no breeze in here."
Emma was about to accuse them of lying just to bug her when some of the lights slid down the side of the frame and hung unsupported in the air. She watched them in silence. They couldn't be fiber optics after all. What she was seeing was physically impossible but she didn't think she was imagining it.
What was going on? Two of the tiny points of light moved toward her stopping in front of her about a foot away. She held out a hand, palm up to see what would happen. One of the lights moved closer. It touched the tip of her index finger, pausing there for a moment. Then it followed the line of her hand and settled in her palm. It made her skin tingle slightly but not unpleasantly.
Turning towards the two other girls, Emma showed them what she held. "There. Can you see it now?" She raised her hand up to the level of their noses.
"See what? What are you talking about?" Megan looked at her friend like she was losing her mind.
Rachel thought she had an explanation. "She's teasing us, Megan. There's nothing there and she knows it."
They couldn't see it. They really couldn't see it. Emma dropped her hand and watched as the single point of brightness rejoined the others surrounding the painting. Needing an out, she chose to let Rachel's statement be her excuse. She liked these two girls and didn't want anything to damage their friendship. "Yeah, I was just kidding. I had you going there for a second though."
"No, you didn't," Rachel insisted, "I knew you were faking it from the beginning." The three dancers moved away from the painting, leaving space for the growing crowd of people to get a better view. Emma paused in the doorway to take one more look. Yes, the lights were still there. She hadn't imagined it. But why was she the only one who seemed to be able to see them?
Doggett hadn't seen the girls leave and took off looking for them. Maybe he was losing his touch. They shouldn't be that hard to shadow. He just wasn't paying close enough attention. "Agent Doggett," Emma said as he caught up to them, "I thought you were talking to your friend."
"Why? Are you trying to ditch me?" He asked in mock concern. Emma gave him a puzzled look. Oops, she was getting suspicious. "Actually, I was about to leave when I met up with you. This just isn't as interesting as you made it sound." That should do it.
"Well, have you checked out the sheep dog trials or better yet, we've got an hour until we need to go back to compete, let's go see if Jimmy really is trying the athletic events."
"You actually talked him into giving it a shot?" Doggett feigned surprise. In truth, he was fully aware of all that was going on.
"He said it sounded like fun. Look, they're over there." She pointed to the field in which the athletic events were being held. They all headed in that direction.
The girls, especially Emma, were a bit bewildered that Agent Doggett hung out in their general vicinity for most of the afternoon. They saw Jimmy near the athletic field but didn't approach him. He was talking to the other participants and Emma knew better than to get in the way. She suggested that they go back to the booth to see how things were going there.
Megan introduced Agent Doggett to her parents and grandparents leaving it to Emma to explain how she knew him.
The girls were asked to go stand in line to buy food for the hungry merchants stuck in the booth. Doggett watched them go, and then quickly informed the curious adults that he had been pressed into service to insure the safety of the kids. He left to find the girls.
Since he was getting hungry himself, he simply picked a food vendor near them and bought himself some lunch bringing it back into the vendor's hall to eat. He sat behind the cash register and watched Pat and Bruce work the sword counter. Pat was a natural salesman. He had an easy rapport with the customers although it seemed to Doggett that he allowed some of them to monopolize his time.
Bruce was more matter of fact and seemed to sell more. Pat's knowledge of swords was nearly encyclopedic but Bruce had the facts down and could answer almost any question. He very seldom had to defer to his father in order to assist the eager buyers.
Doggett found a sgian dhub he liked. The small knife fit perfectly in the top of his sock. He could barely feel it against his leg. It was a little more than he should spend on an item he would use maybe once a year, if that, but he decided to splurge. He took a credit card out of his sporran and tried to hand it to Pat.
Pat refused to take the card from him. "Your money is no good here." Doggett insisted but Pat went on, "Let's just call it a fair trade for services rendered." Pat glanced back at the girls who were laughing together over something Becky had said.
Doggett shook his head and held out the card again. "I'm doing it as a favor to Frohike."
"No matter, the results are the same. Keep your money. The knife is yours." It was obviously pointless to argue with the Scotsman so Doggett accepted the gift.
"Well, thank you then." He got no answer because at that point Pat turned to admonish a careless customer who had brought a sword up over his head, paying no attention to the people standing behind him.
"Leave the swords over the table." He growled.
Sheepishly, the miscreant set the sword back down and wandered farther down the tables to look at battle-axes. Doggett put the knife in his sock and turned to see that the girls were leaving. As he had hoped, Emma stopped to invite him to come watch them dance. He pretended to think about it for a second then accepted the invitation.
Sitting in the bleachers watching the proceedings, Doggett wished that all stakeouts were this easy. He could just sit back, relax and enjoy a gorgeous day. There was one drawback though. He was tired of hearing the same song over and over as each group of kids came up to perform one particular dance. He imagined it must be much worse for the bagpiper, playing it again and again.
Frohike found him mid-afternoon. "How's it going? Are they running you ragged?"
"They spotted me about noon, so I don't have to try to keep out of sight anymore."
"You're not very good at this are you? How do you manage to keep your job if you can't tail three little girls without getting caught?" Frohike didn't often get a chance to torment Doggett so he didn't hesitate to go for it when he saw an opening.
"It's your daughter. She doesn't miss much. How's your case going?"
"Nothing yet. But I'm sure this guy is going to wait until after hours. I wish Yves knew more about his MO. It would've made this easier."
"I checked the files at the FBI. We've got nothing on him. Interpol had some information but it was pretty sketchy."
Frohike nodded, "Yves said he was the best. Hopefully, we can stop him this time."
A young voice called up to them where they sat deep in conversation. "Dad, Agent Doggett!" Emma waved vigorously. She quickly climbed up the bleachers on their right side using the seats as stairs.
"Slow down before you break your neck," Frohike warned her.
"Oh, Dad, I'm always careful," she insisted with the certainty of the very young who have never seen people seriously hurt themselves doing everyday things. She dropped down next to him on the seat.
"How's the dancing going?" Frohike asked his daughter.
"Pretty good. There's a lot of girls competing though so I don't know how I did. They're having the awards ceremony after this next dance. Can you stay for it?"
"Sorry, honey, but I just came over to check up on you then I need to leave."
"That's okay." She heard the announcer call her age group to come and be ready to go on stage. She kissed Frohike quickly on the cheek, "See you later. Bye, Agent Doggett." She then climbed back down the bleachers even faster than she had come up them. When she reached the bottom without any broken bones and ran off to rejoin the waiting children, Frohike released his held breath.
Doggett thought about his own son, Luke, who would have been about Emma's age now. For a moment he was jealous of Frohike, then he turned to him and asked, "Do you realize just how lucky you are?"
Frohike had a fairly good idea where this comment was coming from and admitted, "Yes, I think I do. My only regret is that I wasn't there when she was small. At least you had that." He put his hand on Doggett's shoulder. "And anytime you feel the need to experience preteen emotional outbursts, just let me know. I'm sure we can arrange something."
Doggett held up his hands. "I'm sorry but that 'pleasure' is all yours. I wouldn't want to deprive you of all the joy that must bring."
Frohike smiled. "Let me tell you, there's seldom a dull moment."
The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Rachel and Emma only got one metal each for their performances but Megan did very well. She got first place in two dances and a third in another. She just missed getting the aggregate trophy but all three were pleased with how they had performed. That was it for the dance competition, which meant they had all of Sunday to help with sales, wander around the grounds, or just generally try to stay out of trouble.
After closing up shop, which required covering everything and taking some stuff down, the Tougher family and Emma were ready to go out to dinner. Doggett had stayed to help until it was time to go but declined the invitation for a free meal. Emma ran after him as he left. "Agent Doggett!"
He stopped and turned to see what she wanted, "Yes?"
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, I guess, but what for?"
"I know my dad made you come out here today even though he's too sneaky to tell me."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because why else would you spend your day off following me and my friends around?"
"Maybe I was just having a good time."
"Did you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."
"Good, I knew you would. Are you coming back tomorrow or has he suckered someone else into 'babysitting'?"
Doggett laughed at her choice of words and dropped his arm around her shoulders. He looked around the nearly empty hall as if searching for anyone who might be watching. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. "I'm not sure what he has planned for tomorrow but keep your eyes open. I'm hoping no one can beat the fact that I went unspotted until past noon, even in my kilt."
It was Emma's turn to laugh. "I'll do that."
Late that night, Emma swam up out of REM sleep wondering what had awakened her. She lay with her eyes closed listening to the sounds of the other two girls sleeping on each side of her. Through her closed lids she saw a moving light. She thought nothing of it at first figuring that one of the adults was checking that they were all asleep.
But then she began to wonder where anyone had found a flashlight. She opened her eyes and could no longer see the light. She sat up and scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing, she fluffed up her pillow and tried to drop off again.
Before that could happen, the light was back. This time she sat up quickly trying to catch whoever it was who was messing around in her room in the middle of the night. She was betting it was Ian. As with most little brothers, he enjoyed tormenting his sisters but there was no one there and once again the light was gone. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. It was 3:33 AM.
Shaking her head in frustration, she lay down and finally went back to sleep.
