Page 103 of A Scottish Country Escape

‘That was the official line.’ He explained to our shocked and bewildered faces, that Cameron Lomax was the son of Don Lomax.

Angus’s expression grew grim. ‘Don was the local police sergeant at the same time.’

I could see Gran considering what Angus was telling us. ‘But wasn’t the story round here that Cameron Lomax experienced some sort of breakdown after a family event and left here to recover elsewhere?’

Angus eyed her from under his silvery brows. ‘That was the story that was put out at the time and I suppose it was partly true.’ Recalling what had happened to his younger brother triggered a cloud to pass over his distinguished features. His voice faltered. ‘I was told he hit the accelerator at that sharp bend near the reserve. He lost control.’

‘And this Cameron Lomax blamed himself?’ chipped in Elsa, sitting in the chair beside me. ‘Is that why he left Fir Haven?’

Grandma placed one hand on Angus’s arm. ‘It must have been guilt, I suppose,’ he said.

Thoughts fizzed in my mind. ‘Angus, may I see your photo of Ross again please?’

He tugged his wallet back out of his trouser pocket and handed it over to me. I stared down again at the black and white photo. It could have been Dexter standing there, with his challenging gaze. My head began to whirl with assumptions.

I recalled Linda Carlucci’s initial reaction to seeing Dexter that first time, when he had screeched into the main street in his growling sports car; the way she had stared at him as though he were some sort of apparition. Was that why she had been like that with him? Why she had been behaving the way she had? The way her woodland-green eyes had grown in her face when she saw him standing there; the sudden paleness of her olive skin. Then there had been her various comments about knowing ‘men like him’.

Not only did he bear a close resemblance to Ross Ronald her late fiancé, but he’d been behind the wheel of a fast car too. It had brought all those terrible, painful memories screeching back.

I whirled round, an excited timbre in my voice. I pinned Elsa to her seat with my wild-eyed stare. ‘I think that might be why Linda Carlucci did what she did to Dexter.’

Angus swivelled his sweep of white hair between me and Elsa. ‘What is it? What has Linda Carlucci done?’

Grandma pulled an apologetic face. ‘I know this is going to sound rather silly, Angus, but Dexter Grayling – the crime writer who moved here recently – well, it appears that Linda has put some sort of curse on him. Or so he believes.’

A pensive Angus flexed and unflexed his fingers. ‘It doesn’t sound silly at all. Goodness me. I always thought the stories about the Carlucci family were just gossip or spiteful locals making up lurid tales.’

There was a considered silence between the four of us. Inky darkness was descending, so I rose and clicked on the sitting room lamps, which bathed us all in lemon-hued light.

‘So, what now?’ asked Elsa. ‘Elle, you said you’ve already tried to appeal to Linda Carlucci’s good nature and it didn’t work.’

I sat down again, rubbing my knees in contemplation. ‘But that was before we knew about her relationship with Ross.’

I turned back to Angus. There had to be another way. I hoped I wouldn’t offend him by asking such a delicate question connected to the death of his brother. I leant forward.

‘Angus, I hope this doesn’t upset you, but you don’t happen to know where Cameron Lomax is now, do you?’

Chapter Sixty-Three

‘I know Cameron Lomax lives somewhere in Glasgow now, but I don’t know his precise address,’ explained Angus.

I could feel my optimism deflating, until he added that one of his gardening club friends still kept in touch with him – at least he had up until a couple of years ago. ‘I wasn’t pleased about it, but you can’t dictate to people who they socialise with.’

Noting the urgency in my eyes, Angus gave his friend a call on his mobile and after a few moments of exchanging pleasantries, asked him for the address of Cameron Lomax.

Angus ended the call. ‘Charlie’s off home now and is going to text it to me as soon as he can. He’s at his allotment at the moment.’

Angus broke the expectant hush that had fallen. ‘I never wanted to come across Lomax again. I knew Charlie was aware of his whereabouts, but I couldn’t face the prospect of setting eyes on him after what happened to Ross.’

The four of us sat hunched together, making a concerted effort not to stare at Angus’s silver mobile perched beside him. Angus described his brother, saying how sensitive and creative he had been and that he’d had ambitions to study at Edinburgh Royal College of Art, when there was a ping from his phone. ‘We were very close,’ he added wistfully. ‘But very different too. I think I was always perceived as the sensible, boring one.’

Angus peered down at the screen and nodded with quiet satisfaction. ‘Charlie has sent his address.’ Then he asked for my number and forwarded Cameron Lomax’s address to me.

‘Thank you, Angus. I’m sorry to have asked.’ I showed it to Elsa beside me. She read the screen and nodded. If Elsa was in agreement, we could go tomorrow and pay Cameron Lomax a visit. There was no time to waste.

Dexter’s writing career hinged on this.

If I was right and Linda Carlucci was festering, hanging on to painful memories, then as long as she did so, Dexter’s career was over.