Page 88 of A Scottish Island Summer

Darcie x

Almost immediately, there was a reply from her pinging its way back.

Stop stressing, darling! This isn’t like you!

All good.

J x

I peered down at her message. OK. Right. I’d put the matter to bed.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and returned to the sitting room.

‘So, I’d suggest you speak to Gabriel Jamieson’s ex-wife,’ said Ava, dragging me out of my cloud of worry. ‘Her name’s Chrissie Aitken.’

Campbell’s eyes registered with something. ‘Chrissie Aitken? Are you sure? She was in my year at school. Very pretty and into her sports.’

Logan shuffled forward beside me to look over at Campbell. ‘Do you think she’ll talk to us?’

‘It’s worth a try,’ replied Campbell.

‘I think so too,’ piped in Ava. ‘From what I heard; it was an acrimonious split. It’s not surprising really; Gabriel was always an unpleasant piece of work. She might be more than happy to have a chat with you.’

Logan looked at me and then at Campbell, a light growing in his eyes. ‘Gabriel Jamieson checking out the Skye Lovers’ Cross and then you receiving that letter. It’s a bit too much of a coincidence if you ask me. Maybe it was his ex-wife who wrote it?’

‘Could be. This is why we need to tread carefully,’ mused Campbell. ‘We can’t let the whole of Skye know what we’re doing.’

Burrowing guilt threatened to take hold of me again and I laced my fingers together tighter in my lap. No, stop it. Stop stressing. I’d texted Justine and she said it was all good.

Ava rose from her armchair and fetched her phone from her bag, which she’d deposited on the hall table when we came in. ‘I’ve got Chrissie’s new address. After she and Gabriel split up, she bought one of those little cottages on the other side of the main street.’

Campbell’s face was carrying an odd expression. ‘When did they get divorced?’

‘Och, a good couple of years ago now. Think she was relieved to get away from the crabbit bugger. She was always the complete opposite to him.’

Ava tapped at her contacts and reeled off Chrissie’s address. ‘It’s number 12, Meadow Hill.’

Campbell jotted it down on his phone.

‘Gabriel’s been even more full of himself lately,’ mentioned Ava, as we started to make our way out of her sitting room and into the hall. ‘Ever since he started knocking around with that man. Rumours are that he’s supposed to be some sort of treasure hunter, but I think the locals are making him sound more exciting than he probably is.”

Campbell’s head snapped up. ‘What man?’

‘Och, Gabriel and him seem to have become the best of buddies in no time. He’s not a local.’

Campbell mulled over this latest piece of information from Ava. ‘This man, do you happen to know his name, Ava?’

Logan and I swapped intrigued expressions.

Ava bunched her brows together. ‘Oh, bugger! What did Irene at the Post Office say his name was again? Crichton? No, not Crichton. Dickson, I think. No, that’s not right.’

Campbell’s attention was fixed on Ava, his expression becoming animated. ‘His name wouldn’t be Leyton by any chance? Leyton McPhail?’

Ava’s face lit up with a mixture of delight and relief. ‘That’s it! That’s his name. Leyton McPhail. Tall, wiry chap.’

Campbell’s expression tightened and Logan’s face darkened.

‘Are you sure this guy’s name is Leyton McPhail?’ Logan asked.