1 Off Kilter

by Hannah Reed

  “Things will work out,” I reassured her. “You have a sound plan in place.” Then I turned the conversation to the conflicted family of MacBrides, hoping for some additional insight into the family. “You know the MacBrides well, then?”

  “James and his son-in-law, John, mostly, since Gavin and me, we worked with the sheep, and those two liked tae stay involved, especially John.”

  “John does much better with animals than with people,” I couldn’t help pointing out.

  “Some people are like that,” Charlotte said. “You should meet some o’ the more rural farmers. No social skills tae speak of at all.”

  “How about Kirstine?”

  “I don’t know her well. She’s most interested in the shop—buying clothing and yarns and overseeing the wool products as well as keeping a presence on the shop’s floor. So our paths don’t usually cross.”

  I could have shared my own impressions of Kirstine Derry nee MacBride, but I restrained myself.

  “What about Alec MacBride?” I asked next. “You said you ran into him in Inverness?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “I only know him by sight. His mum lives in Inverness, and he was visiting her.”

  His mum? Oh right, that would be James MacBride’s second wife. I hadn’t given her a passing thought before now. She and James MacBride had divorced long ago. So, she was living close by in Inverness.

  “I’m so sorry about Gavin,” I told her. “I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him, but everyone says he was well loved throughout the countryside.” Never mind that I had found the poor man dead in his cottage. I just wasn’t up to telling that whole story. Let Charlotte find out from the locals.

  “Gavin didn’t have an enemy in the world that I knew o’,” she said. “The night that James MacBride passed on, I went off looking for Gavin. I wasn’t surprised tae find him at the pub, even as late as it was, drowning his sorrows. I tried tae convince him tae go home, but he hardly heard me. He was downing shots o’ whisky, getting mighty drunk, and beside himself with grief over his good friend’s death.”

  I almost said, “So you saw him right before he was killed,” but caught myself in time. The pain in her eyes was intense enough as it was.

  “Then I learned that Gavin was murdered sometime right after he left the pub. I should have stayed with him, but it was after midnight and I was exhausted.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. You did everything you could.”

  “I remember thinking, ‘Well, at least he isn’t driving.’ I made sure. All he had tae do was walk home. He couldn’t get intae any trouble on that count. I remember thinking just that. And all along, someone must have been lying in wait.

  “Three days it took tae finally find him!”

  This was where I should probably have admitted that I had been there when he was found, but I just couldn’t. Instead, I said, “I’m surprised no one missed him before then.”

  “His job took him out of Glenkillen fer days on end, and he dinnae bother tae tell a soul, always sayin’ it was his business and nobody else’s.”

  I couldn’t think of a thing more to say to comfort her, so we sat a few minutes in awkward silence before she rose, and said, “Thank ye for the tea. I’ll come by again once Vicki MacBride is out o’ hospital. I’m working close to Glenkillen fer a few weeks, and I’ll hear when it happens from the town folks, along with every detail I missed till now, ye can count on that.”

  I walked outside with her, watching her drive off in her Jeep, thinking about our conversation.

  Gavin had been in the pub the same night he’d met with Vicki. After they’d compared notes under a surveillance camera.

  And sometime in the early hours of Tuesday morning, Gavin had been stabbed to death.

  CHAPTER 38

  The MacBride farm was a popular destination Thursday morning in more ways than one.

  Aside from the normal activity of tour buses and shoppers arriving at Sheepish Expressions, the kettle on the stove hadn’t even completely cooled from Charlotte Penn’s visit before Inspector Jamieson presented himself at the door.

  At my invitation, he sat down at the table while I prepared more tea, something I was becoming quite accomplished at. Practice, it turns out, really does make perfect.

  He watched me fuss over the tea, placing the settings on the table, pouring, and finally sitting down across from him. “We Scots take our tea making extremely seriously,” the inspector said when I’d placed it before him. “Best served in a small cup with a saucer, as ye’ve done.”

  “Forgetting the saucer is considered a serious breach of etiquette,” I recited as I presented him with an assortment of extras. “Milk, never cream. White sugar. And here are a few more of Vicki’s almond biscuits.”

  The inspector rewarded me with a smile. “Well done,” he said.

  He took a sip of tea from his cup and replaced it on the saucer with proper precision. “I’ve been banned from our patient’s hospital room,” he said. “Not that it came as much o’ a surprise. And Sean was asked tae depart the premises as well. I’m not sure which is worse—being unable tae question the patient or having that bungler on the loose.”

  I smiled inwardly. The inspector would have to find other wild-goose chases for his volunteer assistant. “Why were you banished?” I asked.

  “In the best interest o’ the patient. Apparently, I make her nervous.”

  “She’s more alert, then?”

  “Alert enough for a wee bit o’ questioning, I’m convinced.”

  I gave him a hard look, and said, “I tend to agree with the hospital’s stance. You’ll have plenty of time to interrogate her once she’s released.”

  “Ye sound just like that snotty nurse. Yer tea, by the way, is getting better.”

  Implying it hadn’t started out that way? “Thank you,” I said, graciously. “To what do I owe this particular visit? Not that I’m complaining. I enjoy your company, but I’m also aware that you are in the middle of a murder investigation and this could hardly be a social visit.”

  “I know better than tae try tae fool ye, since yer always ontae me. So then I’d best not pretend it’s strictly fer yer tea.” He paused. “I’m fully aware that Vicki MacBride has been through a traumatic experience. But I need tae get tae the bottom o’ this as quickly as possible. She hasnae even been allowed tae talk tae me about the accident. How it happened, why it happened, where she was going—not a single word.”

  The inspector was agitated. He was certainly not used to being told what he could and could not do.

  “She wasn’t lucid until now, anyway,” I said, then remembered I shouldn’t know anything about her current medical condition, so I quickly went on. “I don’t see how I can be of any help.”

  “Ah, but you can,” he answered. Was that smugness? As though I’d walked right into the lion’s den? “Sean says yer a pro at slipping intae places where ye don’t belong.”

  Wait just one minute. Sean! The snitch must have been more alert than I’d realized when I’d gone up to Vicki’s room. “I can’t imagine what he meant by that,” I stammered.

  The inspector went on as though I hadn’t just denied it. “I was thinkin’ we should put that talent tae good use,” he suggested. “Ye could slip right up tae her room and give her some friendly comfort.”

  Oh, sure, like he cared about that. “You expect me to be the one to grill her?” Did he actually want me to spy on my own friend? What kind of person did he think I was?

  “No need tae go off yer head,” he said quickly, sensing that I wasn’t happy with him. Or maybe it was the dagger eyes I threw at him. “I don’t mean tae make ye angry.”

  “What makes you think I’m angry?”

  “’Cuz yer head is steaming more than the kettle on the stovetop.”

  “I don’t spy on my friends,�
� I told him, making myself clear.

  “And I’m not asking ye tae.”

  “Then what are you asking of me?”

  “Simply that ye offer her yer support and counseling. Ask how the accident happened. That’s harmless enough, isn’t it? Besides, I’m guessing ye want tae find that out as much as I do.”

  “That’s all you want from her? An accounting of the accident?” I regarded him through suspicious eyes. Was it possible that he was considering options other than just assuming she’d been running away? Could I even hope?

  “I’m willing tae keep an open mind. Do ye still think Vicki MacBride was forced over the edge o’ the road?”

  I did an internal hop and skip, but on the exterior I stayed cool. “Is that what you think happened, too? You found evidence?”

  He sighed. “Have ye noticed that ye answer every single one o’ my questions with a question o’ your own? We’re never going tae get a thing accomplished at this rate.”

  I pressed my lips together and waited for him to reply to my question, ignoring the fact that he was absolutely right about my question-for-a-question responses. Although I hadn’t realized it until he’d pointed it out.

  “We don’t have any proof that our patient was helped over the edge with a nudge or two,” he admitted. “Her car was crumpled like an accordion, with enough dents tae qualify it fer the top o’ the scrap heap and not a speck o’ other colored paint tae prove anything. Nor any sign of tampering with the brakes. But, in spite o’ all that, I have doubts.”

  “What made you change your mind?” I wanted to know.

  “I haven’t done anything o’ the sort. But I have my concerns.”

  “And they are?”

  “It wasn’t dark, she hadn’t been drinking, she knew these roads from her days in the Highlands, and I agree with ye that she wouldn’t have left her dogs at the farm unless she intended tae return. Finally, all the tires on the vehicle were operational. We can’t look tae a blowout fer the answer.”

  The inspector was a unique blend of keen external observation and quiet introspection. And many of us trust our instincts. I know I do.

  “Intuition has saved me plenty,” he replied to my questioning look, “and at the moment, I’d like tae hear what Vicki MacBride has tae say.”

  So did I. More than anything. And a good part of me was really thrilled that the police inspector was asking for my assistance in his investigation, even if he was only using me to get in through a back door to which he had been denied the access code. Jamieson wasn’t all-powerful at the moment, now, was he? Rather helpless, I’d have even ventured to say.

  “The only way I’ll cooperate,” I told him, feeling the power, “is if Vicki knows up front that any information she offers will go directly to you. I won’t play double spy.”

  “Aye,” the inspector said.

  I didn’t mention that he also wouldn’t hear any part of her story that I felt would incriminate her more than she already was.

  “And there’s one more line of questioning I’d like you tae—” the inspector started to say, but I cut him off.

  “The accident is all for now. Her health is my main concern, and I’m not risking a setback by upsetting her. If I see that happening, I’m backing off.”

  “How did ye know what I was aboot to ask o’ ye?”

  “I have your number, Inspector.”

  And I did.

  He also wanted me to find out about Vicki’s clandestine meeting with Gavin. Why she’d lied. What they had discussed. He wanted it all.

  So did I.

  CHAPTER 39

  My attempt to circumvent the hospital floor guards didn’t go as well as the first time. I stepped off the elevator hiding behind a basket of lavender Peruvian lilies and pink mini carnations I’d purchased in the hospital’s gift shop.

  I heard a deep questioning male voice and was pretty sure it was addressing me, since I’d been alone on the ride up in the elevator. I peeked over the top of the basket.

  “Are ye lost?” a sturdy, no-nonsense man asked again from his position at the desk. He had muscles the size of watermelons and a serious expression on his face, like a guard dog’s: alert and ready.

  Did I look lost?

  This is exactly what happens when I fail to appear confident and directed while infiltrating a closed hospital ward. Confusion and nervousness had snuck in and sunk me. Or maybe it was the basket of flowers that had sent up red flags. It had been the very last one in the gift shop. Unfortunately, it contained an It’s a Girl! balloon, which I hadn’t been able to remove without ruining the entire bouquet. “Is this maternity?” I squeaked.

  “One floor down,” he said.

  I whipped around to the elevator and punched the down button, glancing back at him from the corner of my eye. He stayed where he was at the front desk, guarding the hall passage, watching me to make sure I followed through.

  Now what?

  The truth and nothing but the truth was all I had left to try, so I spun back around and marched over to the desk. “Actually, I’m here to visit with Vicki MacBride.”

  “I thought as much. Ye were trying to sneak in. Ye had that air about ye. Did that inspector bloke send ye? Or that volunteer cop? He’s been a real nuisance.”

  Astute on his part, but I wasn’t admitting to anything. “Vicki doesn’t have any family,” I said instead, “and I’m her best friend—her only friend—in Glenkillen.” There, that had the ring of truth to it, because it was true.

  “Vicki MacBride has plenty o’ family hereaboot.” Now he had his bulgy arms crossed.

  “I meant, any family that would visit. No one from the family has been up, have they?”

  Mr. Nurse Ratched consulted a file, keeping one shrewd eye on me. “Not yet,” he admitted. “Just that pesky cop and his superior, hovering like vultures.”

  I wasn’t about to give up easily. Not for Inspector Jamieson’s sake but for Vicki’s. She really did need me. “You sent the police away, which was a wise decision,” I said, surprised by the amount of passion in my voice. “But none of the other MacBrides have visited, nor will they. If you’re from this village, then you’ve heard the gossip about the family feud. Right now, I’m all she has.”

  Had a flash of compassion flickered in his eyes?

  I wrapped it up with: “You seem like a kind and caring man, someone concerned about your patient’s best interest, someone who isn’t hung up on visitation rules without taking circumstances into account.”

  I met his gaze and held it. “I only want to look in on her, cheer her up a bit. What harm would that do?”

  He looked away first, glanced at the flowers, then back at me. I made a sad, pleading face.

  “Five minutes,” he warned. “And they begin right now.”

  I was already heading down the hallway.

  “She’s heavily medicated, so don’t be surprised if she’s a bit loopy.” Then: “Don’t ye need her room number?”

  I waved my free hand before turning into Vicki’s room.

  Vicki was alert and looked slightly better than she had the last time I’d visited, though she was still connected to a tangle of wires and monitors that beeped and whose displays waved along.

  I placed the flower basket on her nightstand where she could see them and bent down to give her cheek a kiss, hunting for a spot that wasn’t banged up and bruised, and found a tiny one. Then I rose and said, “You look much better.”

  “Liar!” Vicki retorted, but she smiled with glazed eyes.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Great, now that you’re here. How are my babies?”

  “Spoiled.”

  “And Jasper?”

  “Still ruling the roost.”

  “I’m moving to a regular room later today.”

  “That’s great news!
” And it was. Though the eternally optimistic side of me had wanted to hear that she was going home today. Tomorrow was the court hearing. In spite of my promise to Paul Turner to relate details of the hearing to Vicki, telling her right now would only upset her, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. Besides, she wasn’t in a position to do anything about it.

  “I wish you’d’ve brought Pepper and Coco for a visit.”

  “I had enough trouble getting in myself.”

  “Sit,” Vicki said, patting a spot next to her on the bed.

  I sat, and after relating a few Westie stories and assuring her that they were being well looked after, I ventured into the recent past. But first I told her outright, “Inspector Jamieson is anxious to question you, but he’s been ordered to stay away from you for the time being.”

  Vicki smiled. “Then I’ll stay here in this ward indefinitely.”

  I was having a hard time getting to the part where I admitted to her that the inspector had asked me to gather information. I just couldn’t. Vicki would think I was visiting for that sole reason, and might feel I was misusing our friendship. So I decided I’d ask questions, get answers, and then suggest passing that information on to the proper authorities.

  “Do you remember anything about the accident?” I asked.

  Vicki dashed my hopes and dreams of a magical answer to all her problems by shaking her head. “Not a thing. It’s like the slate has been wiped clean. I keep trying, but the doc says the moments leading up to the accident may never come back to me.”

  What a disappointment. But had I really expected it to be that easy? That Vicki would say that not only had she been forced off the road but she was also able to identify her attacker?

  “Do you remember where you were going?” I tried next.

  Vicki frowned in concentration. “I’ve been dreaming a lot since I’ve been here. So I’m having some trouble keeping everything straight. Let’s see . . . I might have been on the way to Paul Turner’s office,” she said slowly, concentrating. “Yes, that’s it. His secretary called to remind me of an appointment I was supposed to be at right then. I hadn’t remembered making one, but she said he still had time if I hurried and that it was important.”