“Well?” Lachy shook his head. “Not at all. This is past petty rustling or whatever. Finn could have been killed and it’s not on.” Coll could agree with that. “We’ll ring the police again when we get back.” “Aye,” Lachy sighed. “I ken we were gan gae Donny rope tae hang himsel’ but enough. I’m off to see the shyster and drag him to the castle if I have to.” He spoke in his normal non-slangy voice as he climbed onto his quad bike. “Do you think I should stop here so no one tampers with it until the police come?” Coll thought quickly. He was well out of his comfort zone. Woodcarvers didn’t turn investigators except in books. “Might be an idea.” He ran his hands through his hair and realized it needed cutting badly. Once it got longer than an inch it went into a mass of tight dark curls and he’d look like the savage woodcarver of the wild woods if he didn’t chop it soon. “Hell, Lachy, I’ve no idea and I can’t even get a mobile signal here.”
