Chapter 2
Chapter Two
While we waited for Ewan, who was just down the street at the station, Abigail headed out to my car for my medical and field kits. I’d informed Mara why we were held up. She came upstairs because she thought we were pulling some sort of prank.
I wish it was.
We had brought the med cases up as a precaution for any emergencies.
I didn’t think we’d need it for a murder.
When Abigail came back up, we put on our protective suits, and I attempted to find any vitals while she made notes for me. This was something we’d done many times before, and we worked well as a team.
“He was nice,” she said.
The group of artists had sat at our table while we ate. It had been obvious they’d all known each other well. And they had lovely stories about their art. Like Abigail, I’d found them fun and interesting.
“He was.”
“Do you see what I do?” she stared at his chest where the butcher knife stuck out. It was buried to the hilt and would have taken an enormous amount of pressure and strength to penetrate the chest cavity at that angle.
I swallowed hard. “I do. That is—”
“How did someone get our knife without us seeing it?” she asked.
“I wondered about that, myself. Did you notice it in the fake body when we came back from putting on our makeup?”
“I don’t remember. We were a bit rushed finishing our scary look. We took our places and then the doors opened. It was so busy that I didn’t really notice anything missing. The people going through the house were never close enough to take it, though.”
“You know what that tells us?”
“That it was someone working here and premeditated,” Ewan said as he walked into the room.
“Watch where you step,” I said. I would have known it was him, even if he hadn’t spoken. He smelled like the forest, and it was one of my favorite scents.
“I’ve booted up. What do you have so far?” Tonight, he was dressed in a cable knit sweater and dark jeans. He looked much more the Laird of the Manor, which he was, than a police officer.
He pulled out his notebook and proceeded to ask us several questions. We did our best to answer him.
“One thing you need to know,” I said. “Um. So, the knife in his chest belongs to us. I took it out of my kitchen. It’s going to have my fingerprints on it because I stuck it in the fake body in our room before we went downstairs.”
“Do you have any idea who may have stolen it?”
I shook my head. “We were so busy tonight, we didn’t notice it was missing when we came back from eating dinner downstairs.”
“So, the room was empty for how long?”
“Maybe a half hour,” Abigail said. “After we ate, we were in the ladies putting on more makeup. Then we rushed up here.”
“What she said,” I agreed. “We did have a chance to talk with Duncan, his sister, and their friend. They seemed to be lovely people. They were close and very passionate about their art.”
“Their art?”
I explained.
“Right. I forgot about that.”
“Do you know them?” I asked.
“I’ve run into Duncan and his friend Baird a few times at the pub. They are, I mean were, fair musicians as well. Sometimes played there on Friday nights if they were home from the rigs. I’d forgotten he was a carver, and I think Baird still sculpts and is a potter.”
“Right,” I said. “They’ve been gone for several months, Duncan told us. They were staying here for all our events, and they had booths for the fête over the weekend.”
“And there weren’t any arguments between them?”
“No. I can’t imagine the sister or friend hurting him. They all seemed to be having a great time.”
“Time of death?”
“It hasn’t been long,” I said. “The body was still warm. Core temperature was near normal, and the blood pool wasn’t that large.”
“Did you notice anything strange? Maybe someone who was in here past closing time?”
“No,” I said. “Well, we can’t be certain that there wasn’t anyone in here.
We were moving a few things to make them more visible to the crowd as they walked through.
We’d been working for about a half hour when Mara called up and asked to make certain everyone had cleared out. That’s when we found him.
“I’m curious if his sister or Baird saw something. I mean, why was he up here by himself?”
“They talked about going to the pub after,” Abigail said. “They asked if I wanted to go, but I told them I couldn’t. They asked the doc, too.”
“I’d forgotten about that. I bet that’s where they are. Though why did they leave him behind?”
“I’d like to know that as well.” He pulled his cell from his pocket. “I’d send a team, but I’d like to deliver the news myself. I want to gauge their responses. I suppose you’d like to go with me.”
Abigail hid her smile quickly with her clipboard.
“You suppose correctly. Any chance your team wants to help us gather evidence?”
“Yes.”
We set about doing exactly that. While I continued to examine the body and get him ready for transport, they gathered items from the scene. While it was upsetting, the cause of death was easily identified, though I’d do thorough testing during the autopsy.
The large knife had hit dead center on the heart. He most likely died immediately.
But why would someone chance killing him here? There were always people around.
“You two go on,” Abigail said. “I can handle transport and make sure we’re set for the autopsy. You know this town, his sister might hear about if you don’t hurry.”
She made a good point. In Sea Isle, gossip was a commodity. Nothing stayed a secret for long.
“I know you probably need to pick up Tommy, but can you stay with the body until I can get home?”
“No worries,” she said. “Henry has things covered. That is unless Ewan needs him.”
The constable shook his head. “He can help with the follow-ups tomorrow.”
Tommy was Abigail’s younger brother. He was on the spectrum and absolutely brilliant. But he wasn’t a fan of noise or people. He preferred the quiet of working in my gardens.
When we walked into the pub, there was a hush, as everyone turned around to watch us come in.
“Leave ’em alone,” Mr. Wilson said from behind the bar. “Bunch of nosey buggers.”
There were a few laughs, but people did turn back to their conversations.
The town was rife with rumors about Ewan and me, but I don’t think even we understood what was going on between us.
We’d been out together a few times, and we had fun.
Then there were times, usually when we were working, that we butted heads like two territorial rams.
Ewan went to the bar and motioned to Mr. Wilson who stepped out from behind it. Ewan said something and Mara’s grandfather nodded. Then they headed toward the back patio.
I followed.
When we stepped out on the back patio, it was a bit cooler than inside the pub. But there were large space heaters that kept it from becoming too frigid.
Isobel smiled when she saw me and waved me over, but then she noticed Ewan heading their way.
“Ewan?” Baird seemed surprised to see the Constable.
“Baird, Isobel, I need to speak with you.”
She glanced at him and then me. “Did something happen to my brother? He was supposed to meet us here. Is he hurt?”
I swallowed hard. This was never an easy part of the job.
Isobel had tears in her eyes. Ewan sat down and shook his head. I stood behind him.
“There was an incident at the haunted house. I’m sorry to say, Duncan is dead.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No,” she gasped. “This is some kind of terrible joke. He’s put you up to it, and it’s not funny, Ewan.”
“Did he put you up to this?” Baird asked. “It seems like something he would do.”
“I assure you he’s quite serious,” I said. “Abigail and I found him at the haunted house.”
She sobbed. “We just saw him forty minutes ago. He was fine. Said he wanted to change and take off his prothesis before coming down to the pub. He complained the nose he wore was itchy. And he wanted to add a bit more blood to his frame. I don’t understand.
What happened?” She turned to Baird and sobbed into his shoulder.
He hugged her, but there were tears in his eyes, as well.
“We’re investigating,” Ewan said. “I need to know your movements once the haunted house closed.”
“You can’t think we had anything to do with this,” Duncan said. “Was it his heart? He’d complained of chest pains the last few days, but I thought it was his digestion.”
In a matter of speaking, it was his heart. But I kept that bit to myself.
“As I said, we’re investigating. The doc will know more after she runs some tests.” That was Ewan keeping things close to the vest. “So, you two left at the same time?”
“Yes. We changed at the haunted house. Our outfits and makeup weren’t as involved as his,” Baird said. “Also, he wanted to move one of the frames that kept twisting up. We asked if he needed help, but he told us to go on.”
“Right. Is there anyone you know of who might want to hurt him?” Ewan asked.
Isobel turned away from Baird. “What? He was murdered? No. That isn’t possible.”
“I’m following up on all angles,” Ewan said. “Whenever someone dies suddenly, and suspiciously, it’s procedure.” Even though it was more than obvious the man was murdered, Ewan had to be careful.
Most people wouldn’t stab themselves in the heart. But the less others knew about our investigation, the better.
“I can’t think of anyone,” Baird said. “You knew him. He was pretty easy going. He’s only been back for a few weeks. He’d been doing a long run on the rig because we’re short-handed. He’d been busy getting ready to show his work at the fête. I just don’t understand any of this.”
Isobel sobbed for a few minutes.
Ewan and I waited patiently.
When she stopped, she hiccupped a bit. “I’m sorry. It so … It’s a bad dream. Right? A really bad dream.”
“I’m sorry, Isobel,” Ewan said gently. “Is there anything you can share? Anyone who might have wanted to cause your brother harm?”