‘The village is just opening to tourists and there are still concerns about that. Might be better to have a party here instead,’ he suggested.

It was the opening Stratton had been looking for.

‘If you were to agree to come to such a party, then I’m sure the ladies would be content with that. Maybe bring young Colin along too. Kilts compulsory, of course.’

Greg was having none of it. ‘As part of the hall committee,’ he lied, ‘I’m duty bound to help at the ceilidh.’

Stratton gave one of the smiles that didn’t reach his eyes and nodded, as though that was the end of the matter.

‘Now, about tomorrow. We’d like an earlier start and the ladies are coming along too. We want a kill this time.’

Greg made the arrangements, his mind racing. Had Stratton just been playing with him again? Or did he actually plan to come down to the village? If so, it was a truly bad idea in the present circumstances, but he had no way to stop them.

He reminded himself that the police were staying at the hotel if trouble broke out, and he could give fair warning to Malcolm on the possibility that the Party House visit might happen, despite his attempts to prevent it.

Arriving at Beanach, he found himself looking forward to seeing Joanne and was surprised and disappointed to discover the house empty. Spotting her laptop open on the kitchen table, he considered taking a look to see what she’d been working on.

It would be an invasion of privacy, he told himself, and she would most likely have it password protected anyway.

Nevertheless . . .

As expected, his movement of the mouse brought up the screensaver, together with a request for a password. It was at that moment he recognized that the screensaver image was of the ancient pine tree where they’d made love when she first arrived.

She must have taken the picture the day he’d found her in the woods near the Party House. And I was angry with her when I thought she’d been spying on us.

The fact that she’d chosen this image as a reminder of what had happened stirred him and he wanted her here with him again.

She can’t be that far away, he thought. If I can spot her, I could go and meet her and hopefully make it up to her. The thought drove him back outside to scan the road from Blackrig and check out the woods.

When he saw no sign of her, he decided to climb the hill behind the house, where the all-round view provided a wider perspective, including the area of the Party House.

Despite trying not to focus on his current bête noire, he nevertheless found his eye drawn to the brightly coloured female figures by the lochside. Still no doubt enjoying the early evening sun.