Page 58 of A Scottish Island Summer

‘It’s too much of a coincidence,’ Logan replied, still looking pensive. He fiddled with the long, black leather strap of his binoculars. ‘Robbie, do you have a note of the names of your passengers?’

Robbie looked affronted. ‘Of course I do, Burns! What sort of Mickey Mouse outfit do you think I’m running here?’

Logan flexed one brow at me as Robbie pointed him in the direction of a big, leather-bound book behind him on a Formica table in the cabin. ‘Details are in there. It was my two o’clock sailing on Tuesday afternoon he was on.’

Logan negotiated his way on his sea legs and entered the cabin. From where I was, I could make out him reaching for the book and flipping it open.

Moments later, he came striding back out, a bemused angle to his mouth with Robbie’s passenger book tucked under his arm. ‘Mr Howard Carter.’

‘What?’

Logan flicked open the book and pointed a finger. I could see what I presumed to be Robbie’s dark, scrawly handwriting. ‘That’s the name this guy told Robbie. He said his name was Mr Howard Carter.’

Logan cocked his head at me. ‘Yeah, right. And I’m Ryan Gosling.’

I turned over the name Howard Carter in my head. He’d been the famous archaeologist who discovered Tutankhamun’s tomb. ‘But couldn’t this have an innocent explanation? Maybe he does share the same name?’

Logan didn’t look convinced. ‘Hanging around Rock God early in the morning, running off when we saw him yesterday, digging about at the Coral Beach, asking Robbie twenty questions about the Skye Lovers’ Cross… I’d bet just about anything that his real name isn’t Howard Carter.’ Logan shook his head. ‘Nah. Something’s going on.’

I waggled my phone at him. ‘Well, I’m glad something is. Look, we’re supposed to be capturing the essence of Skye’s wildlife for this travel guide of mine, not taking part in an episode of CSI.’ Frustration jabbed at me. ‘If we’re not careful, time will fly by and then I’ll be heading back to London without getting all the content I need.’

There was an odd silence between the two of us.

‘Aye, you’re right.’ Logan kept a tight grip on Robbie’s passenger logbook and moved to return it to him. He threw me a faulty smile over his shoulder. ‘Try not to look too happy about leaving here and heading home to the big smoke.’

My eyes followed his retreating back as the sun danced on the swirling water around us.

‘Logan, your gorgeous sister still single?’ asked Robbie, oblivious to the swirling tension.