Chapter Ten Digging For Trouble
Finlay
Hello?” Finlay said in the phone as he unlocked the front door of his cottage. He glanced down the sideway leading to the backyard where he found Angus, and a shudder ran down his spine.
“Hello, Mrs. Keith?” he repeated. He locked his front door and headed to the sidewalk where the taxi was waiting. It took everything he had to continue staying at his cottage. He still avoided the backyard.
“The Binding Room,” he told the taxi driver. “Mrs. Keith?”
“Aye, aye. I’m sorry, Finlay, I dropped my knitting pin, and I was trying to find it,” she said, laughing in between.
Finlay chuckled. “I hope you’re fine?”
“Oh, I’m okay. I hae been through worse, but it’s a good thing I hae Joan with me.”
“Yes, friends are good.”
She laughed again, “But ye hae Isla.”
Isla? He straightened up, switching the phone from one ear to another. “I don’t know, Mrs. Keith, but we are just research partners.”
She gasped. “Dinnae tell me ye can’t see it. Everyone can see the way ye look at each other.”
“Ahem,” Finlay cleared his throat. It was time to change the subject. “Now, that you have told me, I’ll look out for it.”
“Good, dinnae lose such a bonnie lass, Mr. Fraser.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “So, what about the documents for the house? Have the police returned it?”
Mrs. Keith was silent for a few seconds. “Mr. Fraser—"
“Mrs. Keith?”
Finlay had a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right about her call. “You first,” he urged.
“I really wanted to do this in person, but Mr. Fraser, I think I’m going to hae to pull back on our arrangement.”
What?!
“It doesn’t seem like a good idea with everything going on. I don’t think I thought it through. I think I got carried away.” She spoke in a voice tinged with poignancy.
Finlay blinked. He pinched himself on the thigh, making sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Mrs. Keith, we already took down your house. Doesn’t it seem a little too late?”
“I know. I know, but my mind is made up. I will refund everything I hae received.”
He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Why don’t you think about it. Let’s not make any hasty decisions. If you still want to in… let’s say a week, then I will do whatever you say. I will also compensate you.”
“I have made up my mind, but I’d give you your one week.”
“Why the sudden—"
“I changed my mind, Mr. Fraser. I’m sorry,” she said, cutting him off.
The call ended with a beep.
As the taxi hurtled through the streets, Finlay sat frozen, phone still pressed to his ear, his mind reeling from the sudden, inexplicable reversal. Mrs Keith’s words echoed in his head like a cruel mantra. I changed my mind.
A numbness spread through his chest, as if a cold hand had reached in and squeezed his heart.
His eyes gazed blankly out the window, watching as the streets blurred by in a kaleidoscope of colours and lights.
But he saw none of it. His thoughts were consumed by the crushing disappointment, the sense of loss and betrayal.
Why would she do this?
Finlay walked into the bookshop. Eryn was behind the counter, and she looked up from the computer. “Hey, Finlay.” She pointed towards the tall shelves.
“Hello, Eryn.” He followed her direction. Shakespeare ran out, and the two stared at each other. Finlay expected the dog to bark at him, but instead, he ran past him, heading in Eryn’s direction.
Phew. He sighed in relief. Even Shakes knew he wasn’t in the best mood. He spotted Isla in front of the bookshelves, arranging some books on the shelf. He stared at her. Her hair was down, and her eyeglasses acted like a hairband, keeping her curls in place.
She was wearing a fitted, cropped cardigan in a soft, pastel blue hue paired with a flowy, high-waisted skirt in a bold, red-and-white polka dot print. Her outfit was completed with a pair of black Mary Jane shoes.
As if his eyes had a voice, she turned to him. “Hi.” She grinned at him. “Guess what?”
Without thinking, he strode toward Isla and pulled her into a hug.
“Fin-Finlay?” She stiffened, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that her body didn’t relax on his. He just wanted to be comforted, to feel her warmth around him.
“Finlay?”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled away.
But then she did something that took him by surprise. She held his arms, keeping them around her frame. And she relaxed into his embrace. They stay like that for a few seconds in silence before Isla asked, “Finlay?” Her voice was as soft as silk.
“Mrs. Keith called. She wants out.”
Isla pulled away from his embrace, her eyes wide with shock. “What? How is that possible… oh my… like seriously?” She shook her head. “Hold on now, don’t you think she is being pressured?”
“Wait a minute. That didn’t occur to me.”
Woof!
Woof!
They heard Shakespeare barking continuously. Finlay and Isla hurried toward the scene. Callum was standing by the door with Shakespeare barking at him. Eryn was behind Shakespeare, trying to calm him. She sighed in relief when she saw Finlay and Isla rushing out.
“Mr. Fraser, I just…” He trailed off when Shakespeare barked again.
“Shakes,” Isla called in a warning tone. He whined, flashing his tongue over the side of his mouth before trotting into the bindery.
Isla turned to Callum. “I’m sorry about that.” And then she shot Finlay a knowing look.
“I called, but you weren’t answering your phone,” Callum said, setting his bag on the table. “I have some good news,” He announced with a smile.
Finlay stared at him. Callum was beginning to feel like a bone in his throat. He couldn’t cough it out, and neither could he swallow it.
“Three people from the retirement home agreed to sell their properties, and guess what? One has a mansion,” Callum said, eyes wide with excitement.
He unzipped his bag, pulling out the forms. “Mr. Wallace said his children never come home, and he’d rather have his mansion sold than deteriorate. ” He handed the forms to Finlay.
“These are the deeds to their houses too.” He paused. “What is it?” he asked, noticing Finlay was quiet. His eyes darted to Isla and the back to Finlay.
Finlay pulled out a chair from the table. “Please sit, Callum.” He gestured to the chair in front of him.
“Have a look.” Callum waved the forms at Finlay. As Finlay reached for them, the forms cascaded down.
“Och, I’m sorry.” Callum bent down, picking up the forms. He gathered them together and placed them on the table. Then he sat opposite Finlay, with a puzzled look. “Guys, what is going on?”
“I appreciate all you have done, but um, I’d like to hold off for a while. Mrs. Keith said that she is pulling out.”
“What?! But her house is gone. What happened?”
Finlay shook his head. “I don’t know. Let’s just hold off for a bit.”
“Do you need me to talk to her?” Callum asked.
And what would happen when you do? “No, don’t worry about it,” Finlay declined, rising to his feet. He wanted Callum to leave. He just wanted to spend his day with Isla. Alone and free from all the shenanigans.
“I’ll call when I go through these, but until next week, let’s just take a break,” Finlay said. “And, um, I will have something for you by the end of today.”
Callum sighed, his lips pressed into a tight line. He packed his bags and departed the bookshop.
“Why didn’t you ask him about Angus?” Isla asked in a low voice. Finlay’s eyes darted to Eryn. She was holding up a novel and not paying any attention to them.
He shrugged, plopping down on the chair. “Because Isla, I feel drained. I need to call Benjamin.”
“I don’t think you can leave town,” she murmured, reaching for his hand on top of the table. She held it, squeezing gently, a reassuring gesture.
I can’t leave town, Isla. Not without you. He flipped his hand so it enclosed hers. And he caressed the soft inside of her palm.
Isla allowed him to touch her. An innocent little gesture that sent a jolt of warmth through his chest, like a spark igniting a slow-burning fire.
His gut tightened, but it wasn’t anxiety this time—it was a thrill of anticipation, a sense of connection that left him breathless.
The gentle pressure of her touch sent a shiver down his spine, and for a moment, the world around him melted away, leaving only the two of them suspended in a sea of possibility.
“I didn’t ask him because I don’t want him to know we are onto him. Bonnie promised to tell the police, so he is probably under their radar,” he said without letting go of her hand.
“That’s good. Then if the police start investigating him, maybe we can continue our investigation on Beatrice,” Isla suggested. “Just to make sure.”
Finlay looked up at her, their eyes connecting. “What do you have in mind?”
“Let’s go to St. Albert Church.”
Finlay walked alongside Isla, Shakespeare trotting faithfully by her side as they approached St. Albert Church.
The once-majestic structure now stood as a testament to neglect and abandonment, its stone facade weathered and worn.
The windows, once stained-glass masterpieces, were now boarded up, and the heavy wooden doors hung crookedly on their hinges.
As they drew closer, Finlay noticed the poor attempt to convert the church into a school, with bright blue paint and cheerful murals attempting to mask the underlying decay.
However, the renovation seemed to have stalled midway, with exposed wiring and half-finished classrooms. The lack of funds had brought the project to a grinding halt.
Their true destination lay behind the church: James Buchan’s old house. Finlay’s eyes locked onto the dilapidated structure, its windows like empty eyes staring back at them. The once-manicured lawn had given way to weeds and wildflowers, and the rusty gate hung limply from its hinges.