Page 40 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

“Must be something in the water around these parts,” Zach went on. “Adam and I did think it odd that Heather Moore cropped up again, but there’s been a few instances recently, of celebrities buying boltholes in more remote parts of the country.” He gave an easy shrug. “But hey … as long as there’s a good story, I’m not going to quibble.”

My stomach clenched. How the hell had Declan found out about me being here? Who’d told him?

I bit back a ball of bile in my throat. Morbid fascination was tightening its grip on me and I couldn’t shake it off. More than one life looked like it was verging on implosion. Who would be first? Ezra or me?

“Do you have a name for this drunken character?” My office walls were suffocating me, crushing my chest and pressing down. The Christmas fairy lights and tinsel I’d strung up on the walls were burning my eyes.

Oblivious to the panic ripping through me, Zach pushed his hands into his coat pockets. “The guy was about to give Adam more details, but a couple of cops moved him on. He thinks the man might’ve said his name was Sean but like I said, he was very pissed, in a state and not all that coherent.”

My mouth dried up. It must be Declan. Sean was his middle name. It was all about the money. It always was with him. He was obsessed by it. He must be desperate when he was crawling out from wherever he’d been hiding. Obviously, he was prepared to take a risk to get his hands on more cash. That was his aim in life.

Zach gave a sarcastic smile. “It happens more than you think, this sort of thing; desperate folks approaching us, trying to cash in on non-existent stories for their fifteen minutes of fame.”

Zach’s hypnotic, dark brown eyes shone with determination. “But Adam said the guy insisted his ex was that Bollinger Babe party girl who the tabloids nicknamed a few years back.”

My mouth opened and closed. I gripped the edge of my desk. My knuckles morphed into blobs of anxious white.

I was fighting to speak. Thoughts were tumbling through my mind. The first being what the hell was Declan’s game here?

This was quickly followed by messy, painful memories of our relationship and how it ended.

Though my brain was working overtime, nothing was coming out of my mouth, except for random bursts of panicked air.

Zach began to fiddle with his phone while he was talking to me from the other side of my desk.

Oh God, please don’t let him find a picture of me!

My cheeks were flaming. Any minute now he was going to notice.

Right. Take a breath. Try to stay calm.

I let out a strangled cough. All my fears were coming true. Would I never escape the past?

My fingers knotted and tumbled over each other as I sat there. “So, you don’t have a lead on her then?”

Zach jabbed at his phone screen and flashed me a glance as he scrolled up and down the screen. “Our Lady Anastasia seems to have vanished into thin air. Talk about lying low. We’ve run some checks and investigated social media but she doesn’t use that any more. She hasn’t posted on any of them for a good couple of years.” Zach sat up straighter. “She might think she’s able to hide, but not for much longer. I’m asking around.”

Zach eyed me. “I’m telling you all this, in the hope you might know someone who can help us locate her or who might have some information. It would be worth their while.” My spine stiffened. My office walls were squeezing the breath from my chest harder and faster, like that famous scene in Indiana Jones. To my own burning ears, my voice was a hoarse, harried mess. Hearing Zach say my real name, was like hearing a ringing in my ears. “About her being here in Heather Moore?”

Zach pushed his phone back into his coat pocket. “Yes. Gotta start somewhere and Adam said that guy was insistent she might be basing herself around here now.”

“He was hammered,” I insisted, trying not to sound panicked. “Not sure he’d know what day of the week it was, let alone be a reliable source of information. And anyway, I’m sure someone like her would stick out a mile in a town this size.”

Zach frowned across at me. “You sound very sure about all this, Bailey.”

I flapped my hands. “Well… You know, knowing Heather Moore like I do.”

Zach glanced around at my flower photographs on the office walls and my newly erected Christmas decorations.

My heart iced in my chest. It had been coming, I suppose. It was inevitable. I’d been deluding myself if I thought I could carve out a fresh life for myself here. I’d been lucky to have six months hassle-free.

Zach’s voice dragged me back. “Well, people slip up at some point. They make a silly mistake and leave a trail. It’s human nature.”

My whirring thoughts were freewheeling around my head and refusing to stop. Declan Rooney’s evil shadow was still following me around. What was he trying to do? What did he hope to achieve? Duh! Silly question. Money.

It sounded like his music “career” was a no-go, if he was stumbling around the city streets, drunk. Not content with what he stole from me for the imaginary music foundation, now he was back for more.

And how the hell had someone found out about me being here? I’d tried to be as careful as I could, but that couldn’t have been enough. I’d been a tabloid it-girl; the partying aristo. I’d been in so many newspapers and magazines. Had someone local recognised me and blabbed? I’d been deluding myself, if I thought I could start again.