Page 19 of Chasing a Highland Dream

Relief flooded Bella when she saw her. ‘Granny! Oh, thank goodness you’re okay!’ She grappled Isla into a hug. ‘What on earth is going on?’

Isla patted Bella’s back reassuringly. ‘Stop your fretting, hen, I’m fine.’ She held her at arm’s length. ‘I just stopped a criminal in the act, that’s all.’ Beau gave a single bark as if agreeing with her.

‘I’ve told you I’m not a criminal!’ the man in black insisted from his prone position.

‘Aye, well, why are ye skulking around at night outside the abode of two vulnerable women? I saw you through the peephole, young man,’ Isla replied. Bella stared at her granny, as a small but significant dose of reality hit; vulnerable wasn’t a word she had ever associated with the woman but maybe that was a mistake on her part. The fact she was feisty didn’t mean she could protect herself. ‘You look like a criminal all dressed in black,’ Isla continued. ‘The only other person who dresses like that and hangs about near women’s houses usually brings chocolates, but I don’t see any on you.’ A rumbled snigger travelled through the small gathered group and Beau barked again in support of Isla.

Bella wasn’t sure what to say. The man was a stranger, and he was, indeed, all dressed in black, which gave him a kind of cat burglar slash Milk Tray Man appearance. She turned to one of the police in attendance. ‘Can you shed any light on things?’

The male officer with short dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard, who Bella recognised as Maeve’s son, Harris, and the lead member of Coppercaillie, cleared his throat and straightened his face, clearly amused by Isla’s reference to the 1980s chocolate advert. ‘Certainly.’ He nodded, his face now a stoic mask of professionalism. ‘Mrs Douglas alerted us to an intruder and, of course, we take these things very seriously. We attended the scene right away and, sure enough, this man was outside the apartments, loitering suspiciously.’

Isla tugged at Bella’s sleeve. ‘Arabella hen, you remember Sergeant Donaldson, don’t you? He’s single like you, I know him from the day centre, he’s a musician, remember? He’s Maeve’s boy, aren’t you, Harris?’ Isla said as if they were in a coffee shop rather than the midst of a potential crime scene. Bella wanted the stone slabs on the ground to open up and swallow her.

Of course Bella recognised him. His performance at Olivia’s birthday party had been brilliant and she wondered if he was as embarrassed as she was. The poor man must have been in his mid-thirties so definitely not a boy, but he smiled regardless, in spite of his evident feelings manifesting in his red face.

He nodded. ‘Aye, that’s right. You style my mum’s hair, don’t you?’

Isla smiled with pride again and patted her own purple braided hair-do. ‘I do. I like to do my bit.’ Please don’t say for the old folks, Granny. Please— Bella screamed in her head. ‘For the elderly, you know,’ Isla finished, much to Bella’s further embarrassment. Sergeant Donaldson gave a knowing smile but Isla didn’t let up. She nudged Bella. ‘Doesn’t he look handsome in his uniform?’

Thankfully, before Bella could respond, the man in black interjected. ‘Excuse me! I feel like I’m on some bizarre episode of Blind Date here. Can you please uncuff me?’ he pleaded his case again, only louder this time.

‘Not until we ascertain your reason for sneaking around here uninvited,’ Sergeant Donaldson told him.

‘I’m not uninvited. I’m just a bit early, that’s all. I’m booked to stay here!’ the man in black snapped.

Bella’s eyes widened as she heard Olivia gasp and watched as she pushed forward. ‘Aiden O’Dowd?’

‘Yes!’ the man replied in a strained voice. ‘I have said so about half a dozen times now to this purple-haired woman and to the officers, but no one seems to be listening!’

‘Oh, my goodness! But you’re not due for weeks yet! Sergeant Donaldson, please uncuff him, he’s my first paying guest and this isn’t the welcome he was supposed to have.’

‘But if he’s a guest, why is he dressed all in black and acting suspiciously?’ Officer Mel asked in her broad Yorkshire accent, a raised eyebrow told of her distrust. ‘Mrs Douglas says he was talking on his mobile about trying to get into the place.’

Again, the detained man interjected, ‘I was trying to contact Lady MacBain to explain I had arrived early due to unforeseen circumstances but there was no answer. I left messages. I didn’t think it would be a problem as she did say I was going to be her first guest.’

Olivia patted her dress pockets. ‘I’m sorry, Mr O’Dowd, I seem to have misplaced my phone.’ She turned the pockets inside out to prove her point. ‘But perhaps you should have waited until you actually spoke to me before turning up out of the blue. Then perhaps this situation could’ve been avoided.’ Bella watched as Olivia cringed, probably realising she wasn’t helping. She continued, ‘We were only in the gift shop trying out the new products; you should’ve just popped around there.’

‘I have no clue where that even is,’ the man replied in a curt tone.

‘Perhaps you can uncuff him, Sergeant Donaldson?’ Bella asked, guilt niggling at her for her granny causing them a wasted journey. She turned to Isla and whispered, ‘Granny, you could have just called me instead of bothering the police. I’d only been gone half an hour.’

Isla gasped and placed her hand over her heart. ‘Och, not a chance. I wasnae about to put you in the clutches of a burglar, he could have been a sex-crazed lunatic for all I knew! And I’m in my nightie!’ She didn’t bother lowering her voice.

The man in black was pale faced, probably due to his ordeal, and looked exhausted. He gave a heavy sigh. ‘I can assure you I’m not. I write about crime, I don’t partake of it.’

Isla’s face lit up. ‘Oh, so you are that writer chappy.’ She stepped forward and held out her hand as Sergeant Donaldson uncuffed the man and helped him to stand. ‘I’m Isla Douglas and this here is Bella, my beautiful granddaughter. We’ll be neighbours,’ she said as if she hadn’t just had the man accosted.

He glared at her. ‘Great. I’ll be sure to keep out of your way.’

Mr O’Dowd in no way resembled the old man Bella had anticipated the crime author guest to be. Instead of a balding head was a thick mop of dark blond hair, instead of a rotund stomach was a rather flat one and instead of an elderly face full of wrinkles was a handsome, smooth exterior aged at around thirty to thirty-five, with piercing blue eyes glaring angrily from it. He was tall and had broad shoulders, the absolute antithesis of what Bella had imagined him to be.

She really would have to stop stereotyping people.

Olivia fumbled in her other pocket, pulled out a bunch of keys and deftly removed one from it. ‘Mr O’Dowd, I apologise for missing your calls but you simply weren’t expected. Now that you’re here, though, you’re welcome to stay, of course.’ She handed him the key as he rubbed his wrists.

‘Thank you,’ he replied sharply. ‘I’ll unpack my car and then, if I’m free to go, I think I’d like to go inside and collapse in a heap, if I may.’ His accent was quite soft and Scottish in spite of his Irish-sounding name.

Olivia nodded. ‘Of course. Absolutely. I’ll have some food and drink brought down for you. Can we help you get your things from the car? Where have you parked?’