John is hunting for clues. Will he find one at last?

Thank you guys so much for the lovely reviews :)

Chapter 34

A part of him had been excited to have Clara stay in his guest bedroom and John had lain awake last night, thinking about her sleeping next door, thinking about what he should offer her for breakfast, thinking about the short kiss she had given him. It had been an unexpected gesture, but certainly not an unwelcome one because John still felt his skin tingle whenever he revisited the brief moment their lips had touched. However, he knew better than to expect too much because it probably meant nothing at all. Clara was still grieving for her boyfriend and John knew exactly what that was like, so the short kiss couldn't have been more than a gesture of gratitude. Nevertheless, he vowed to make an effort.

Needless to say, John was a little disappointed when the morning came and he left his bedroom to find that Clara was already awake and looked ready to leave. He asked if she would like some breakfast, but she seemed more evasive than ever and declined his offer. In fact, it seemed almost like she was a different person than the one he had talked to last night and he had no idea why that was, but it caused his heart sink into his boots to see her like that. John knew that Clara had a lot to worry about, a lot to deal with, but he still wished that she would let him in because he wanted nothing more than to help her. But after he had driven her home, Clara merely thanked him for his help and John could do nothing but watch as she vanished inside her house, not even taking him up on his offer to have a look at the signs of the most recent break-in.

With a heavy heart, John started the engine of his car and turned around, Clara and the previous night still on his mind. When he had begun the investigation into Bonnie's death, he had assumed it would be an ordinary case, a case like any other which he had solved back in London, but John had soon realised that it was anything but. He never grew emotionally attached to the victims, but Clara was different somehow, just as the case was different, and he knew that there were connections he wasn't seeing yet. How else would this all make sense?

He didn't drive straight to the station that morning, because he had other plans. He needed to figure out how and when Bonnie had arrived on the island because he hoped it would give him more insight as to what she had wanted here. His first stop was the airport and after introducing himself, John was led into a neat looking office where a woman told him that no passenger by the name of Bonnie Moore had arrived on this island in recent months. A little disappointed, he thanked her for her time and moved on.

The harbour was colder than the rest of the island and an icy wind ruffled his hair the moment John left the shelter of his car. Pulling up the collar of his coat to at least keep his neck warm, he crossed the car park as the sea air filled his nose and John remembered his own arrival on this island all too vividly. A stormy evening, a rough crossing, the thoughts about his dead father weighing him down every step of the way until Kate had greeted him at the harbour with the house keys and a wet dog. What had he expected upon returning to Scotland? Right now, John couldn't even say, but it certainly hadn't been a dead woman and his growing feelings for a local school teacher. He was relieved when he finally reached the door to the ferry terminal and stepped inside the building.

An old man looked up from his newspaper and John assumed that he should have retired years ago, but when he smiled, John recognised him.

"Wilf," he said, smiling back at him. "Still here, I see."

Wilfred Mott threw the papers aside and rose from his seat behind the counter. "Damn right, I'm still here," he replied in a pretend hurt tone. "I was here when you and that Saxon brat stole the Sea Whore and I will be here until they carry me out on a stretcher."

John grinned at the old man. He had been a young worker on shift that night when he and his childhood friend Missy had stolen a dinghy and Wilfred had brought them back, but he hadn't snitched on them, not once – even though he had Missy had caused a lot of mischief around the harbour.

"I heard you'd come back," the man went on. "I was waiting for you to come and say hello to an old friend."

"Hello, old friend," John said sincerely, still beaming at Wilf. Now that he came to think about it, not everything about this island was bad or gloomy. Wilfred Mott was one of the people he had actually missed.

All of a sudden, Wilf raised his eyebrows and looked at John with suspicion. "You didn't actually come here to say hello, did you?"

John opened his mouth, but he was cut off before he could even start talking.

"No, of course, you didn't."

"In my defence, I didn't know you still worked here," he argued. "But it's certainly a nice surprise."

Wilfred huffed. "Where else am I supposed to work, lad?! Retirement is for other people, you know that."

As much as John would love to catch up with the old man, he knew that he had come here for a reason and he shouldn't forget about that. Kate would expect a report once he got back to the station, so John took a deep breath and decided to stop beating around the bush.

"I've actually come here to ask you a couple of questions," he explained. "Well, one in particular. Concerning the body of the young woman we found."

Wilfred's face took on a serious expression from one moment to the next and John knew that his old friend had heard about it. By now, he doubted that there was anyone on this island who hadn't.

"I need to know when she arrived, how long she was on this island before she died," John told him in a serious manner. "We have a few theories, but there's still so much we don't know. If I could pinpoint the day she arrived on this island, we'll know more. We'll know whether she died right after her arrival, but if she didn't, if she spent a couple of days here, some people might have seen her or talked to her."

Wilfred Mott nodded. "Give me her name," he told John. "I'll check if she's in the system."

As he moved towards the front desk, John followed him. "She has to be. She didn't take a plane," he said. "Or else… well, she must have swum here. Her name is Bonnie Moore, that's Bonnie with an ie."

John waited impatiently while Wilfred operated the enormous computer and he tapped his foot on the floor until the old man told him to stop. Then, he decided to search Wilf's face for a clue, but there wasn't one.

"She didn't take a ferry," Wilfred said eventually when he looked back up at John. "Her name is not in the system."

"Did you spell it correctly?"

His old friend frowned at him. "I've been spelling things before you were even born," he retorted angrily. "She must have taken a private boat, not the public ferry."

John sighed when he realised that Wilfred was probably right. But how were they going to find out when and how she had arrived when there were no records of it? Then again, it occurred to John that she could have boarded the ferry under a false name. Not knowing what else to do, John reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo they had taken of Bonnie after Osgood had cleaned her up. He handed it to Wilfred.

"That's her," he explained. "That's Bonnie Moore. Have you seen her around here?"

Wilfred frowned in response and John could tell that he recognised her. It was obvious from the look of confusion on his face. "But that's the teacher," he said. "What was her name? Os-something."

"Clara Oswald," John finished his sentence for him. "She's Bonnie Moore's sister."

Despite the explanation, Wilfred didn't stop frowning. Instead, he turned to face his computer screen once again and typed something into the keyboard. John had no idea what he was up to until the printer sprang to life and ejected a couple of pages. Now, it was John's turned to frown as he looked at the information. Clara Oswald had taken a ferry from Aberdeen to Kirkwall a week before Bonnie's death, but that wasn't what surprised him.

"This is a one-way ticket," John said after a while. "When did she leave here?"

Wilfred shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe she took the plane off the island," he replied matter-of-factly. Then, his face took on an almost smug expression and John knew exactly what he was going to say.

"Maybe Bonnie pretended to be Clara when she arrived," John concluded as he folded up the printed documents and slipped them and the photo back into his pocket. "Thank you, Wilf. You've been a great help."