I spun the corkboard around and recreated what was destroyed. It took me awhile. When it was done, I wrote out the latest threat.

Then drew a big fat circle around Sarah McCulloch’s name.

No more putting it off. It was time I had a little chat with the shy housekeeper.

19

Lachlan

The sun glinted off the sea, somewhat lightening Lachlan’s strange mood. The spectacular view across Ardnoch Estate toward Ardnoch Firth, the inlet that drained into the North Sea, was the reason he’d chosen the smaller apartments for his personal use.

Hands in his pockets, he contemplated his family’s estate, and wondered (not for the first time) if creating the club had been the right route to preserve it. There was no question something had to be done. Estates of this size were a fortune to run, and he’d known if he didn’t transform it into some kind of business, he’d end up having to sell it bit by bit. He’d already sold off Adair land to provide his siblings with some form of inheritance.

That land hadn’t been their home, though. The thought of being the Adair who lost Ardnoch was unbearable.

Yet, even with its success, Lachlan admitted to a feeling of discontent. He’d put it down to the strange and dangerous stalker situation that had grown ominously quiet since the security system was no longer a liability. However, he’d been feeling this way before the stalker started messing with the lives of the people he cared about.

His phone abruptly rang, vibrating on the desk beside the window. Lachlan reached for it, relieved to see Brodan’s name flashing across the screen. He answered, “It’s about time.”

His brother chuckled. “I thought I better call you before you drive my agent mad with your constant harassment.”

“If you’d answer your bloody phone now and then, I wouldn’t have to harass your agent.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s been a busy time.”

“Yes, brawling with club bouncers will certainly keep you busy.”

Brodan huffed. “Lachlan—”

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” Brodan answered tightly. “And don’t speak to me like I’m a child. I got into a fight when I was drunk. Big deal.”

“It is a big deal. One, you’re thirty-five years old. Maybe, I don’t know … grow the hell up?”

“I don’t need this—”

“Two, you wanted to act, and you said you could handle the fame. It comes with the responsibility of maintaining this family’s reputation when you’re out there. That means not giving those tabloid vultures fodder.”

His brother was deadly silent.

Lachlan sighed. “Brodan, you promised me when I got you into that life, it wouldn’t change you.”

“How has it changed me?” he snapped.

“You’re never home. You don’t call your family. You have no idea what is going on with them most of the time, and you’re out there living it up as this drunken, wild party boy that wasn’t you even when you were a boy.”

“I’m not the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on with his family half the time.”

Lachlan tensed. “And what does that mean?”

Brodan hesitated. Then, “Arran. At least I know where our brother is.”

Wincing at the reminder that he’d failed his youngest brother, Lachlan leaned against the desk and bowed his head. “Is he okay?”

His middle brother’s tone softened. “He’s fine. He’s in Thailand, working at a bar on the beach and having the time of his life.”

Not sure Brodan was telling the truth, Lachlan didn’t respond.

Brodan exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping in touch. I’ll do better. As for the brawl, it was just me letting off steam. That role in Dick’s movie was brutal, Lachlan. I had to go to some dark places.”

While Lachlan had been typecast in action thrillers and romantic comedy action movies, Brodan was a far better actor than his big brother. He’d started out in those kinds of roles, too, but had broken out into dark, psychological work. The movie he referred to was one in which he played a serial killer. Although proud of Brodan, Lachlan wasn’t sure he could watch a movie in which his wee brother played a psychopath. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, honest. It was just hard going. Partied a little too much after to let it go. This next movie is a rom-com. Script is a bit ridiculous, but it’s fun. A nice change of pace.”

Deciding his brother did sound better than the last time he’d spoken to him, Lachlan let it go. “Okay. As long as you’re all right. Your family misses you, though. Take a break after this movie, eh? Come home for a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely. I have to go. Director wants us back on set.”

“Where are you, by the way—”

The line went dead.

Sighing, Lachlan tucked his phone into his pocket.

For a long time, he’d felt more of a parent than a brother, but his dad had convinced him to take the break that was offered to him in Hollywood. So Lachlan had gone, and a part of him was ashamed to admit that he’d enjoyed no longer bearing the responsibility of raising his siblings alongside a perpetually distracted father.