Epilogue
Isla smiled as she watched Callum hobble around on his crutches, his broken leg a reminder of the terrifying attack they had survived.
Callum became suspicious of Dugan when he heard of Finlay’s arrest and went into hiding for fear of being a suspect.
He had secretly followed Isla to Joan’s house and watched her get pulled into the manhole.
Finlay didn’t press charges against Callum; instead, he offered him a position at Blackwood & Fraser Estates.
The past few months had been a whirlwind of revelations and justice.
Beatrice had confessed to lying about the donation, revealing that her father, Dugan, had orchestrated the deceit to embezzle funds when she would be elected to the Scottish parliament.
She was suspended, and Mr. Hamish was voted by the townspeople to act as a temporary leader.
Regardless, the townspeople forgave Beatrice. She has a lot of work to do to win their trust again. Isla doubted she could hold any political seat.
None of Buchan’s properties was taken away from her. She was his daughter, and the council agreed it was her right. But she chose to donate the St. Albert church to the town.
Dugan had also confessed to never telling her the truth about James Buchan.
Finlay, still reeling from his father’s involvement in the Buchan cover-up, had initially wanted to distance himself from the church.
But the townspeople had voted for the resort to be constructed.
Now, the new building stood as a symbol of their resilience.
It was named LochBuchan after James Buchan.
Dugan was behind bars, his recorded confession having sealed his fate.
He confessed to killing Angus because he figured out that Buchan had signed over St. Albert to the town and not Beatrice.
Angus had also found out that the dates in Mrs. Keith’s house documents didn’t match the time of James Buchan’s disappearance.
“He was going to retrieve the deed from Fairgrieve’s son to expose me,” Dugan had said. “He was going to tell Beatrice the truth if I dinnae tell him how all of Buchan’s properties were in Stewart’s name.”
So, he killed Angus to keep his sins a secret.
He then admitted to coercing Mrs. Keith to pull out of her deal with Finlay.
And then killed her to set Finlay up to stop his project.
He also vindicated Callum, saying he had only paid him to get the watch because it was vintage and didn’t tell Callum what he intended to do with it.
“I would hae killed him after or threatened him to leave town like I did, Fairgrieve.”
Dugan’s confession had left the town frozen in horror.
The man who had presented himself as a peaceful, harmless pillar of the community had been revealed as a mastermind of deceit and corruption, a ruthless killer driven by greed that had destroyed four lives.
His admission of orchestrating brutal murders, manipulating others to cover his tracks, and hiding behind a mask of respectability had sent shockwaves through Lochraven, leaving residents stunned and sickened by the evil that had lurked among them.
As Isla looked around at the crowd gathered for the grand opening of the Haven Raven resort, she felt a sense of pride and belonging. Finlay and Benjamin had worked tirelessly to bring it to life.
Mr. Hamish and Benjamin stood at the gate, holding a pair of scissors against a ribbon traveling from one end to another. They cut the ribbon, and the townspeople clapped and cheered. Multiple camera lights flashed, taking photos.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Moira said, leaning her shoulder on Isla.
“It is,” Isla agreed, giggling as Shakespeare galloped around them.
“There comes your braw, lad,” Alisa chipped in.
Eryn chuckled. “Girl, it’s so obvious, get together already.”
Moira pulled away from Isla, nodding at her. Telling her silently that she approved. Isla smiled in understanding. She left their midst, heading toward Finlay, who was standing beside Benjamin, as they talked into the camera. Shakespeare darted between the guests, barking joyfully.
“Hey, Isla,” someone said behind her.
It was Joan.
“Hi,” Isla responded.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation the other day,” Joan said, her eyes sparkling with newfound understanding.
“You were right about change being necessary for growth.” A small smile played on Joan’s lips, and then she continued, “Sometimes, we have to let go of what’s familiar to make way for what’s meant to be. ”
Isla nodded in agreement. “I’m glad you see that. Change is not an end, but a bend in the road of life.”
I’m ready to welcome it with open arms.
She spread out her arms, and the two women hugged in a warm and comforting embrace.
Woof!
Isla turned to see Shakespeare in Finlay’s arms. “Come, let’s leave.”
As the sun began to set, Finlay and Isla slipped away to Thistle and Thyme café, where they settled into a cozy corner table. Over steaming cups of coffee, they chatted and laughed, their banter easy and affectionate.
As they lingered over their drinks, Finlay turned to Isla with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, I’ve been thinking… Birmingham’s not so bad. Would you ever visit me there?”
Isla’s heart skipped a beat as she met Finlay’s gaze. “Yes,” she said softly.
Finlay’s face broke into a radiant smile, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against Isla’s in a gentle, sweet kiss.
Isla’s lips were warm from Finlay’s as they broke apart to catch their breaths. Their eyes locked, the tension between them electrifying. Their foreheads were pressed against the other.
“Again?” she murmured.
“Ye dinnae hae to say that twice,” Finlay said with a Scottish accent that caused her to giggle.
Isla’s phone chirped, vibrating on the table. Finlay’s eyes dropped, his face inches from hers, as Isla hesitated, reluctant to break the moment.
“One minute.” She held a finger up. “Hello?”
“Isla, please—” Flora’s trembling voice cut through the haze, and Isla’s expression turned grave as she listened. Her head whipped toward the counter where Flora worked jauntily, but she was met with Flora’s assistant.
Meanwhile, Finlay’s eyes snapped back to hers, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Abby never came home last night,” Flora continued, her voice cracking. “Her twins are frantic. You have to help find her. Her neighbour said she got into a taxi and never returned.”
“A vintage sedan,” Flora added.
“A vintage sedan?” Isla repeated, her eyes darting to Finlay’s
As she ended the call, Finlay’s eyes never left hers. “Vintage Sedan?” he asked. “I know someone with a vintage sedan.”
“Who? Flora said Abby got in it, and now she is missing.”
“He is in jail,” he answered, his voice low and resolute.
“Dugan Stewart,” murmured Isla. “Then we must pay him a visit.”