Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
I returned to Ava’s sitting room, my mind churning with a combination of guilt and worry. Justine had promised me that she wouldn’t say anything, so why did I feel like I’d stuck my head inside the lion’s mouth?
Dread gripped me. Why did I have to say anything in the first place?
It was a stupid, rhetorical question. I knew why.
Envy.
How petty was that? I’d reacted without taking a breath or thinking about my stupid, selfish actions.
‘Everything OK, Darcie?’
Logan’s deep voice made me flinch. I forced a smile but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him or Campbell. ‘Er. What? Oh. Yes. Fine, thanks. Just a quick catch-up with my agent. She wanted to find out how the book research was going.’
Ava’s face lit up with interest. ‘Book?’
I sunk back down in the middle between Logan and Campbell, feeling like a thorn between two roses. ‘I’m writing a travel guide to Skye.’
‘Och, that sounds great! Well, I wish you every success with it.’
‘Thank you.’
Another wave of wretchedness peppered my chest like a volley of bullets.
I wished everyone would stop being so nice to me. I didn’t deserve it. Why did I ever think mentioning the Skye Lovers’ Cross to Justine was a good idea?
Because you’re an immature, jealous cretin, mocked my inner voice. Pure and simple.
‘We’re just keeping all this between us for the time being,’ continued Campbell to Ava. ‘About the cross, I mean. Like Logan just said, we don’t want to get everybody’s hopes up and have amateur treasure hunters ripping up Skye.’
I clamped my eyelids shut for a few seconds. I felt sick. I hoped neither Campbell nor Logan could see me cringing into my boots.
‘Of course,’ agreed Ava, oblivious to my raging discomfort. ‘That makes sense. Don’t you worry. I’ll keep my counsel to myself. You can trust me.’
I wanted to shrivel up.
My panicked thoughts tried to cling to any shards of hope. Maybe I was overreacting. I hadn’t given Justine any concrete details. In fact, I’d been scant with the facts. When I’d realised what I’d blurted out in a fit of pique, I’d backtracked straight away.
And once I’d realised what a stupid thing I’d done, I’d ordered Justine to forget about what I’d said and she’d agreed. Well, she’d made an odd grunting noise, but that was her way of agreeing with me. Wasn’t it?
I tried to look animated as the conversation ebbed and flowed about the cross and further debate took place about what Gabriel Jamieson might know about it.
Campbell, Logan and Ava’s voices swirled around me like the ghostly mist that wrapped itself around the Cuillins, while tidal waves of worry washed over my head again and again.
I had to hope and pray that Justine would be sidetracked by something more important like making another appointment for her next teeth whitening treatment.
Worry about Justine blabbing to the press made me jump to my feet again, eliciting an odd look from Logan.
‘Just got to dash off a quick text,’ I blabbed, slipping out into Ava’s hallway again.
I took a deep breath, fished out my phone from my back pocket and rattled off a text to Justine.
Hi Justine,
Just to confirm – forget what I said about the search for some Skye treasure, OK?
Thanks,
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.
Ava nodded so much she looked like she was in danger of cricking her neck. ‘Oh, I’m sure alright.’
She reached for her front door handle. ‘This Leyton McPhail chappie’s hung around the library a couple of times this week, whilst I was there.’
Campbell looked like he was about to explode. ‘He’s got thinning blonde hair, tall, gaunt…?’
‘Peery blue eyes,’ jumped in Ava. ‘Aye.’
I snapped my head this way and that, feeling like I was late to some sort of party. ‘Excuse me for interrupting, but who’s Leyton McPhail?’
‘A so-called eminent archaeologist,’ replied Logan with disdain. ‘But he’s more like a glorified trophy hunter. He’s been linked to so many dodgy treasure hunt successes over the years, you wouldn’t believe it.’
‘The man’s a snake,’ added Campbell, his mouth drawn back with disapproval. ‘He has a knack of locating lost treasures by underhanded means and then slithering away before he can be implicated with anything.’
‘Like what?’ I asked.
‘He claims to have found Roman artefacts in the Scottish Borders, Knights Templar rings in Edinburgh, caveman inscriptions in Inverness; you name it, Leyton McPhail has reportedly found it.’
‘And they aren’t genuine?’ I asked, curious.
‘He claims they are, but eminent archaeologists are yet to be convinced by a lot of his so-called discoveries because he has a tendency to spirit away the objects before any of his professional contemporaries can get a chance to look at them.’
Campbell’s dismissive expression grew tighter and he rubbed at the clean planes of his face, the afternoon light shimmering through the glass of Ava’s front door highlighting his pensive features. ‘He treats archaeology and what he claims he finds like some sort of bloody funfair, rather than priceless links back to our history.’
I considered what I’d just heard. ‘Do you think Gabriel Jamieson and this Leyton McPhail are trying to track down the Skye Lovers’ Cross? Is there a chance that if it is real, they might’ve found it already?’
Campbell patted the anonymous letter, secreted in his coat pocket. ‘I’m certain that they won’t have found it yet. If they had, McPhail would be crowing about it from here to Scandinavia. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.’
Logan agreed. ‘I don’t think Jamieson or McPhail have it either. At least not yet.’
‘It sounds like you might just be starting to believe that the Skye Lovers’ Cross exists, Logan,’ I remarked.
‘I’m trying to keep an open mind.’
Campbell tried to smooth his shaggy hair. ‘I think we need to go and speak to Chrissie, Gabriel’s ex-wife.’ His melted chocolate eyes were determined. ‘She might be able to fill in a bit more of this puzzle for us.’ He offered Ava a warm smile. ‘You’ve been very helpful. We very much appreciate it.’
She blushed baby pink at Campbell. ‘You’re welcome.’