Really? What investigation? The weirdness of her superiors’ line of questioning had struck Grace sharply at the time, and been on her mind ever since. After the things Ben Hope had told her last night, she’d been thinking about it even more. It was as though Macleod and Coull were playing a double game, hiding something while fishing for information and secretly anxious to find out who else might know. Now the Watkins thing had entered the equation, it just didn’t fit right and felt a little too convenient for Grace’s liking. If Ewan was beaten up because of his involvement in the Highland Manor development, where did that leave Ross’s stash of valuable gold coins that Macleod and Coull had been so keen to know more about?

She was at a loss to piece the facts together, but she sensed that something odd was going on. Even if Macleod and Coull succeeded in extracting a confession out of Watkins, she knew she’d never feel comfortable with that outcome. Because this was about Ewan. Though their relationship was far in the past, she still cared about him deeply as a dear friend. Thanks to all this, he was lingering in a coma from which he might never awaken.

She couldn’t bear that thought.

She needed to know the truth.

The only problem was how to set about finding out. Even under normal circumstances a lowly PC couldn’t go poking her nose into her superior officers’ investigation without getting stonewalled, at best, and more likely treated to a severe bollocking. In any case if her hunch was right and Macleod and Coull had some kind of hidden agenda, the last thing she needed was to draw their suspicion on herself.

But then Grace had an idea, and thought that maybe there was something else she could do.

Chapter 26

Three days earlier

Following his encounter with Jamie McGlashan, Boonzie had worked his way back through the woods to where he’d hidden the camper van. He had stripped off the ghillie suit and warmed his chilled body by the flame of his gas stove.

He’d already known then what he had to do next. Nothing else mattered. His mission commitment was unwavering and his plan was sharp and focused in his mind. Yet the white-hot rage he’d felt on hearing the poacher’s testimony had not left him. A terrible burning pain had spread through his chest and down his left side, and racked him until he had eventually given up trying to fight it through willpower alone, and swallowed down two of the pills from his bottle. He hated himself for his weakness. When at last the agony had diminished, he had been able to curl up under his blanket and snatch a few hours’ sleep.