John MacQuarrie had been the scribe. Then Uilleam was no longer manager, and John had been elevated to administer the estates. She let out her breath. She had to tell Grant that she’d found proof for Archibald’s allegations.

She imagined that when Robert and then Grant himself took over the estates, they would have been more concerned with the current and future state of affairs, not something that had occurred much earlier.

The more recent discrepancies had to do with the misappropriation of money for food and had steadily increased for four months until they abruptly stopped. So it wasn’t a case of a major feast the pack had, which she hadn’t any problem with. She pulled out her phone and called Grant, who said he was overseeing the patching up of the old chapel to use for the wedding.

“Aye, lass? Up to my armpits in mud, so anything you want to do about the wedding is fine with me.”

“We wish to have you serve as our male stripper for the hen night, or as we Americans would call it, the bachelorette party,” she teased.

Silence.

She smiled. Not often did she render him speechless. She sighed. “I was going over the accounts and found a couple of discrepancies.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“No rush,” she said, meaning it. She hadn’t realized he was quite so busy, and she certainly didn’t want to pull him away from the job. Unless he just wanted a break from working on the chapel.

“Nay, I’ll be there. Just let me wash up a bit.”

She sighed as he hung up on her. She hadn’t wanted him to think it was anything that was current and had to be taken care of right this minute. But she wondered if Uilleam had doctored the accounts, Neda had caught him at it, and he was fired. What if John MacQuarrie had been the one to let the cat out of the bag? Then he got Uilleam’s job and Uilleam sought revenge. Not just because he wanted to be manager, but because he had been the manager. And John had discovered the theft and told on him. And then he became the manager.

Not long after she and Grant ended the call, he arrived, no shirt, clean trousers, his skin freshly washed, his face a little flushed from rushing to get there.

She rose from the desk chair and gave him a hug. “Hmm, you smell like spices and the sea, and wolf, of course. You didn’t have to hurry. I just found something I thought you might want to know if you didn’t already.”

“The discrepancies in the foodstuffs. Aye. I took care of it. The man who had been working the books had been in league with the head cook. Maynard now holds the head cook’s position.”

She chewed on her bottom lip and considered Grant, not saying a word. Was this what Archibald meant when he said discrepancies existed in the accounts? Why hadn’t Grant told her?

“This is what you’ve been worried about? Maynard was concerned. Everyone has known about this but me?” she asked, annoyed.

Grant frowned. “The man was made to pay for the theft. The accounts were set right. As you can see, we had more money in the accounts for several months as the man paid the clan—well, you—back.”

“Yes, but why didn’t you tell me?”

“I took care of it.”

“Yes, but…I understand that part, Grant. But you should have told me.” She let out her breath. “Is there anything else?”

“Nay, I went through the accounts for a couple of years back, but saw nothing else that would indicate he or anyone else had been pilfering money.”

“Did you ever look at the historical figures?”

Grant considered her as if he wasn’t sure what was going on in her head.

“Okay, no, then. Did you know that Uilleam was Farraige’s first administrator?”

Grant’s jaw hardened. “Aye, Calla said she had heard it was so. She told me when she was getting the wedding books from her car. But we didn’t know if it was all a lie. You found evidence to corroborate the story?”

His voice was dark and growly, and Colleen realized the notion that his grandfather was the very first administrator had been an honor for his clan and his pack. She felt bad that anyone had to spoil that for him. But maybe it explained why Uilleam had killed Grant’s grandfather.

She showed Grant the documents, explained what she thought had happened, then said, “Did Neda keep journals?”

“Aye,” he said slowly. “They were stored when she died. We didn’t think anything of it, but we didn’t want your father to destroy them if he had a mind to.”

“Understandable and good thinking. Can I see them?”

“Aye.” Grant started to leave the study, and she followed him. “I can have them brought here to the study,” he said.

“How about having them delivered to Neda’s chamber? I want to spread them out there, organize them, see what I can see. I don’t want to make a mess of the study, and no one is using her chamber right now.”

“I’ll help you.” He called someone on his cell and said, “Get a couple of men to grab Neda’s boxes of journals and bring them to her chamber. Thanks.”

Colleen looked up at him as they strode toward the women’s corridor. “You were building a wall, nice manly work.” She reached over and ran her hand over his muscled chest.

He gave her a wicked smile. “You’re sure you still want to read Neda’s journals?”

She laughed. “Yes. I have a one-track mind myself. I want to learn what Neda had to say about this.”

“Calla said Archibald told Baird that Uilleam was courting Neda.”

Colleen’s jaw dropped. “No. Really?”

“Aye, that’s what she said.” Grant put his arm around Colleen’s shoulders and continued down the hallway to Neda’s chambers while Colleen considered that news.

“So he wasn’t just the first manager of the estates. He was trying to woo Neda into mating him, and he would have been the owner, too.”

“Sounds like that from what you’ve discovered and from what Calla learned.”

“Which would be all the more reason for Uilleam to be so angered and kill John. Hopefully, she mentioned it in her journal,” Colleen said.

“You really aren’t angry about me not mentioning the discrepancies, are you?”

“Yes, I am. You should have told me when I first arrived. I should make you do a striptease for us at my bachelorette party.”