Murder in a Scottish Shire

by Traci Hall

  “I feel like it’s my birthday.” Which was actually in November instead of March.

  “We’re just so glad yer all right, love.” Mary Beth squeezed her gently in a hug.

  Lydia cleared one of the high-top tables for food and drinks while the other women found seats and brought out their projects.

  Mary Beth lifted the gorgeous pink christening blanket from her bag and Paislee admired the uniform bubbles she’d managed to make. “This is lovely,” she said.

  Mary Beth blushed.

  Elspeth worked on a soft blue cardigan sweater for her sister. “Although we had the worst fight earlier today. I’m sorely tempted to unravel the thing and make dishrags.”

  “What did ye fight about?” Amelia asked, lifting a black knit cap from her backpack.

  “Susan says I baby h-h-her.” Elspeth’s voice wavered. “She wasnae blind growing up, so living with her now because she cannae see is hard on both of us.”

  “I understand,” Flora said. “My Donnan used tae be able tae do things for himself that he can’t after his stroke. Don’t be too hard on yourself as ye find yer way.”

  Paislee wondered how often Flora had to give herself that same talk.

  “What caused her blindness?” Mary Beth asked Elspeth.

  “Macular degeneration, which can happen as you age. She was diagnosed at fifty, which is early, I s’pose. She’s sixty now and so angry about it. I try tae make it so that she can be independent, but she complains that I smother her with good intentions. How is that even possible?” Elspeth looked down at the light blue yarn rather than at them.

  The ladies swarmed around Elspeth in hugs and solace, assuring her that she could manage what she had to do.

  Flora handed Elspeth a tissue from her purse. “Don’t we all find the strength somewhere?”

  “I do, and this, here, helps me.” Mary Beth gestured to their lopsided circle. “Arran’s not been well this week and it makes him a bear. I banished him tae his office before I left tonight, and told him that if he so much as raised his voice tae our girls while I was gone, then he’d be eating burned soup over the next week.”

  Paislee, Flora, and Lydia laughed, as did Elspeth. Amelia wore a questioning expression.

  “Arran cannae cook for himself,” Mary Beth explained. “I cook verra well, and he loves his meals as much as I do.”

  “You could have stayed home,” Paislee said, smiling still at Mary Beth taking a stand. From what she’d gathered over the years, Arran could be domineering.

  “Don’t I deserve me own time, too?”

  They all agreed she did.

  Flora brought out the yellow yarn she’d delivered to Paislee, then put it aside for a cherry red she told them she got from the red geranium. “I’m making Donnan a new cap—he’s so cold all the time now.”

  Paislee smacked her palm to her forehead. “Your check for the yarn you dropped off—let me get it.” She got up and quickly filled it out.

  Flora didn’t hide her relief when she accepted it. “Thanks, love.”

  Paislee saw green and yellow dye under Flora’s nails. “Flora, are you not wearing gloves when you mix your dyes? How are your allergies?”

  The woman sniffed to prove her sinuses were clear. “Bless Dr. Whyte and his antihistamines. Staying away from nature is impossible, given me line of work. Online yarn sales are booming, and since I’m the only one workin’ I have no time tae be sick.”

  “I wanted tae ask you about that,” Paislee said. “In case . . . I have tae move, or cannae find a new shop as big as this.”

  Lydia stood behind the counter, a black frilled apron over a silky blouse and jeans. “Never worry about that, Paislee, love; we will find something. All right—who wants what tae drink?” She loved to act as bartender, since she didn’t knit.

  “Whisky on the rocks for me,” Amelia said, putting her black yarn aside to collect her beverage.

  “I brought me own tea,” Flora said. “Do you have lemon?”

  “Sliced and ready,” Lydia promised.

  Elspeth sniffed one last time, then stood. “I’ll have a glass of whatever wine you brought, Lydia. You have a guid taste for pairings. I was Father Dixon’s right hand when finding quality wine on a budget. Not just for the church, but for entertaining.”

  Paislee realized that Elspeth had been needed and appreciated at her job, while her sister needed her, too, but resented her help. That would be a difficult adjustment.

  Elspeth turned to Paislee. “I havenae forgotten tae reach out tae the historical society aboot this building. I left a message, but the woman I need tae speak tae is on holiday.”

  “Thanks. We’re meeting on Sunday, me and the other businesses, tae discuss what we might do.”

  “It will be next week at least. Sairy,” Elspeth said. She shook her head and her iron-gray hair, straight and thick, fell perfectly into place.

  “Don’t be.” Paislee touched the soft brace at her neck. “Us being forced tae move certainly isnae your fault.”

  Lydia tossed a cherry stem at Paislee. “Pinot grigio, my injured bird?”

  Paislee laughed when it landed beside her. “Aye, I also trust your taste in wine. In buildings not so much.” She told the ladies about the new and very white office space.

  Lydia actually seemed embarrassed. “I realized my mistake. It will be amended. Though no matter what, you will have more than thirty days tae vacate. I havenae seen a sale posted yet and I’ve been looking constantly.”

  “I appreciate that, Lydia. I’ll be sure tae let the others know.”

  Elspeth passed Paislee a glass of white wine, then poured one for herself. The older woman sipped and nodded. “Brilliant flavors.”

  Amelia perched on the edge of her seat with her tumbler between her hands. “So, Paislee, what do ye think of our new detective?”

  Paislee knotted off another crocheted flower. “You don’t want tae know.”

  “I do. I saw sparks.”

  “Sparks of anger.” She glared at her friend. “The man thought I was a suspect in Isla’s death. I suppose I ran myself off the road, too?”

  Flora and Mary Beth gasped.

  “He didnae!” Mary Beth said.

  “Not really,” Paislee amended at the righteous anger on the faces of her friends. “But he did question me about my whereabouts Monday morning. I told him I was in the kitchen, thank ye verra much.”

  They all laughed, but she was still a little hot under the collar—her neck brace itched a bit. Dr. Raj had been right to insist she wear it for two days; otherwise she would have done too much.

  “He was muttering under his breath after he’d been tae see you and didnae leave his office for an hour.” Amelia snickered. “He’s from Glasgow, ye know, and thought Nairn would be a boring job, beneath his skills. And he’s handed a hard tae figure case right out of the gate. I’m torn between feeling sairy for him and rooting for him. Norma thinks he’s cute.”

  “Norma is twenty years older than him.” Paislee knotted the center of another flower.

  “Isla was really murdered?” Mary Beth asked. She sipped from a bottle of fizzy water.

  “Aye,” Paislee said. The detective had confirmed he was searching for Isla’s killer, perhaps inadvertently, but she’d heard him.

  “Nothing tae drink, Mary Beth?” Lydia spread her hands over the array of adult beverages on the high top.

  “I feel like water tonight. Do you realize that drinking and driving is up ten percent in Nairn?”

  “That sounds like a solicitor’s statistic. Does your husband have a new high-profile case?” Elspeth asked.

  Arran’s success allowed Mary Beth to have the latest fashions, jewelry, a nice home, and a new van—but Paislee suspected that Mary Beth earned her luxuries.

  “I cannae say,” Mary Beth deflected.

  “It’s all the new people that have moved here the last few years, I bet.” Lydia offered Flora a plate with melted Gruyère and crackers.

  F
lora sniffed the appetizer to detect ingredients. “Green apples?”

  “Aye.”

  Flora piled a bit on a cracker and tasted, her eyes closing in delight. “You are a marvel.”

  Amelia took a drink of her whisky. “The DI doesnae have a single real suspect. I read in a police procedural that the more time that passes the harder it is tae catch a killer.”

  “A police procedural?” Paislee asked with a grin.

  She blushed to the roots of her short hair. “Inspector Shinner left behind some books that I’ve been readin’ through. You know, just tae see.”

  “See what?” Flora asked, feeling the marigold positioned beside her ear.

  Amelia’s bright blue eyes twinkled as she informed them, “If I might like being a constable.”

  Lydia clapped her hands. “Brilliant. And why not?”

  Amelia searched her glass as she admitted, “I never went tae college. I’m a gamer at heart, and a receptionist for pay.”

  “She’s worried she isnae good enough, and I highly disagree,” Paislee announced.

  “I think you can do anything ye set your mind tae,” Flora declared, her eyes filling with tears. “Tae be sure. I have a college degree in literature, but I dinnae use it.”

  “I didn’t go tae college, either,” Paislee said. “I had Brody, and had tae earn money right away.”

  “College is not a sign of intelligence.” Lydia brought the wine around to top off her and Elspeth’s glasses. “Following your passion to make a living matters—like Paislee and Flora both do. Me too, actually. I enjoy matching people with their hooses.”

  “It’s not a bad paycheck,” teased Paislee.

  Amelia blinked at Lydia with stars in her eyes. “You think I can do it?”

  “I have no doubt.”

  Amelia finished her whisky, a quiet satisfaction about her.

  “What’s the latest on Widower Mann?” Mary Beth asked Elspeth. The widower was notorious for the stream of elderly ladies he had visit in the nursing home across from Elspeth’s house.

  “The Lawson sisters went in tae see him last night—both at the same time!” Elspeth brought her fingers to her mouth. “I’m tempted tae make my own visit just tae see what the fuss is about.”

  “You were married, right?” Paislee asked.

  “Ach. Thirty years—I know what the fuss is supposed tae be about, but we never got on in that way. He was my best friend and I did my duty, but there wasnae passion. Not once did I have cause tae smile like some of the women leaving Widower Mann’s room.”

  They all laughed at that.

  Paislee tried hard to banish Roderick’s comment on Isla being full of passion, but it was difficult.

  Flora sipped her tea and Paislee saw flowers as well as lemon floating atop the mug. “I dinnae miss me nights with Donnan,” she shared. “What I miss most since his stroke is being held.” A tear slid down her cheek. “But I will do what I must for him tae get better.”

  It was no secret that Donnan used to get drunk and violent, though none of the ladies ever talked about it. This was her safe place, just as it was for all of them. Paislee didn’t blame her for not missing that.

  “I’m tempted tae visit Widower Mann myself!” Lydia offered crackers and cheese around. “I havenae had a date in months.”

  Amelia’s shoulders slumped.

  Guess they were all having a dry spell—not that Paislee wanted to change her situation. There would be no dating for her until Brody was out of school. She had one job in this world and raising Brody was it.

  “Well, be sure tae report the findings. Although you’re so pretty ye might be too much for him!” Mary Beth laughed as she knit another row of bubbled yarn.

  “What a way for him tae go.” Paislee giggled.

  “I would never have sex again if I killed someone while doing it,” Lydia declared. “Never mind. I will have tae keep up with my dating sites.”

  “You should have men lined up at yer door,” Flora said. “What is the matter with them all?”

  “Paislee says I scare them off.”

  The ladies all turned to her. “What? She’s beautiful, smart, wicked funny, and doesnae put up with idiots. If I was a man I’d be terrified, too.”

  “How many of those do you have tae finish by morning?” Amelia asked.

  Paislee looked at the box filling up with flowers by her side. “Until this is full or I dinnae feel like doing them anymore.”

  “How do you feel, lass?” Flora asked. “Make sure tae have the comfrey when ye get home.”

  “I’m awright. Just mad. I wish that the detective would hurry up and arrest Gerald, and then I wouldnae be looking over my shoulder anymore.”

  “Gerald Sanford?” Amelia asked.

  “Oh, Paislee,” Lydia said. “I dinnae think it’s him. I was so angry when you thought he might have run ye off the road that I called his boss. Gerald was at a sleepover, if ye know what I mean, and didnae leave till noon Monday. Ye said Isla died in the morning?”

  Disappointment crushed her and she jabbed her finger with the crochet hook. She took a pound note from her pocket and placed it on the table to let the cursing fly.

  Chapter 25

  Paislee woke up early Saturday for a hot, muscle-loosening shower. Last night before bed she’d soaked in the dried comfrey leaves from Flora and had a cup of comfrey tea. It had taken a lot of honey to make that palatable, but she’d drunk it down.

  She had just enough of the dried herbs left for a mug this morning. Paislee went downstairs to start breakfast, mindful of being at the shop by eight, but Grandpa had beaten her to it.

  “Scrambled eggs,” he said, lifting the spatula. “Lorne sausage frying in the pan. Toast, with orange marmalade. Brody picked that out at the grocery store the other night.”

  “It’s his favorite.”

  He peered closely at her face. “Yer cheek looks better,” he said. “How’s your neck?”

  “It’s all right.” She touched the sore muscles where the seat belt had wrenched. “I willnae need the brace today.”

  “Mibbe take it with you? Just in case. Ye can keep it in the shop.”

  “That’s a good idea.” She patted his shoulder and told him about Gerald having an alibi—he’d gone to bed as soon as she’d come home last night, so this was her first chance to share the news. “I was wrong.”

  “It happens.” Grandpa’s brown eyes flashed with humor. “Even tae the best of us.”

  She smiled. “Let me go wake Brody and Wallace.”

  But dog and boy were already descending the stairs, lured by the scent of cooking sausage.

  She let Wallace out to the back garden to do his business. “It’s gorgeous today!”

  Blue sky, a slight chill, but a sweater should suffice.

  She turned to Grandpa Angus, who was stirring eggs in a pan. “One year it rained so hard that we moved everything into the shop and watched the parade from under the awning. You used tae live around here?”

  “I used tae live in this house,” he said.

  “Oh!”

  They each backed away from the subject like it was a sore tooth not to be prodded.

  She’d forgotten that.

  Luckily, Brody hadn’t heard the conversation, as he’d run out back after Wallace. He returned to the kitchen, his cheeks flushed, the smell of spring on his heels. Wallace’s nearly black eyes shone brightly as he lapped up some fresh water from his bowl.

  Brody sat at the table. “Yum! Grandpa let me get orange marmalade; did ye see that, Mum?”

  “I did. It’s your lucky day. That and sausage.”

  He licked his lips and rubbed his tummy, his auburn hair up like feathers in a tuft. “Dinnae forget we’re going tae the comic booth, right, Grandpa?”

  “Right.” He brought the pan of eggs and sausage to the table and dished out food. “Sit, Paislee, and eat. We’ll be there in plenty of time.”

  “We just need tae assemble the canopy. They have workers who
set up the tables and each business is assigned a number. The paperwork’s at Cashmere Crush.”

  “Can we bring Wallace, Mum?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but then she shrugged. “So long as you agree tae walk him and take care of him, then, aye.”

  “Yes!” He pumped his fist into the air.

  Brody managed eggs, sausage, and three pieces of toast before Paislee shooed him from the table. “I can make you more, but why don’t ye get cleaned up so we can go.”

  “I’m full.” He licked his lips. “It just tastes so good.”

  “That’s like me and Theadora’s raspberry scones.” She gathered his plate as Wallace watched her with interest from his spot on the floor. Brody ran up the stairs.

  “Nothing for you, pup,” she said.

  She caught Grandpa slipping a bit of sausage to the dog but bit her tongue to keep the peace. He never fed the dog from the table, her eye. Plugging her nose, she drained the comfrey tea and hoped it worked its magic.

  Traffic was heavier than usual on this Saturday morning as people headed out to the Spring Festival. All the businesses on the parade route had numbers, booths, canopies, and free gifts to entice customers to buy.

  Grandpa parked the white Sentra behind the shop. They were there by half past eight and said hello to James, who was just arriving as well.

  Brody gave the wizened old man a high five, chatting about the comic book booth he couldn’t wait to see.

  “I remember when I liked comics,” James said, exchanging a glance with her grandfather. “And then I discovered the ladies.”

  The two men chuckled. Paislee ushered Brody into Cashmere Crush with a roll of her eyes. It would be some time before she had to worry about that, praise heaven.

  Right?

  Wallace, on a red plaid leash, stayed at Brody’s heels. They’d brought his gray flannel bed to tuck beneath the register and out of the way. She bumped the box of silver charms she’d ordered and groaned. They were so adorable, how could she have forgotten them?

  “Can you help me affix the charms with the Cashmere Crush logo?” she asked Brody, who had dropped Wallace’s leash to let it drag on the ground. “I only ordered a hundred, so just give those out tae your favorite people.”