Kilt at the Highland Games

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  Sherri waited a beat, her tension already beginning to ease. Talking to Liss was always good therapy. “Has Jake Murch found anything I should know about?”

  “He’ll tell you if he does. That was the deal.”

  “Okay. Good.” She drew in a breath. “I’m glad you hired him. I can use all the help I can get.”

  “Some help! So far he hasn’t had any better luck than you have, unless you count the fact that he’s made Dolores very happy by agreeing to help her with her recall petition. She recruited him when he tried to question her.”

  The mental image of Dolores Mayfield and Jake Murch working together brought a smile to Sherri’s face. It faded at Liss’s next words.

  “I understand she’s also organizing a demonstration. A picket line and everything. Murch persuaded her to hold off until after this weekend, but he says she’s determined to bring down Jason Graye.”

  “Oh, goodie. Something to look forward to.” Sherri didn’t hold back on the sarcasm.

  It had been a mistake to relax, even for a couple of minutes. She shifted in the chair, placing both feet firmly on the floor. Her headache had returned with a vengeance.

  “I need to get back to packing the car with the stuff I’m taking to the Highland Games tomorrow,” Liss said. “Was there something else you wanted?”

  Sherri hesitated, then figured she might as well ask. “Does the name Eliot Underhill mean anything to you?”

  “Nope. Who is he?”

  “Well, that’s the question.” She told Liss what she’d discovered—or, rather, what she hadn’t found.

  “He must have used a credit card if he’s registered at The Spruces.”

  “Liss, you’re a genius!”

  But a short time later, after Sherri had talked to Joe Ruskin at the hotel, she was no further ahead. The man calling himself Eliot Underhill had paid cash for his room—in advance. The only bright spot was that she now knew that he was booked through the weekend. Just as soon as she could shake her headache, she’d go out there and have a word with him.

  * * *

  Friday arrived without further incident. No fires. No broken windows. Liss spent most of the day setting up display tables and racks in the Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium booth on the grounds of the hotel. It was actually an awning with sides that could be rolled down for protection against the elements. By early evening, everything was in place and ready to go.

  The opening ceremonies were scheduled to start in an hour, after which, as soon as it was dark enough, there would be a spectacular fireworks display. Liss had already decided to take a pass on the first event. As much as Dan loved her, he would never learn to enjoy the skirling of the pipes. He’d have endured the bagpipe bands and the pipers playing for the country dancing for her sake, but there was no need. Since he’d end up listening to more than enough piping on Saturday and Sunday, she had decided to spare him this evening’s offerings.

  Skipping out would also give her a chance to go home, change her clothes, and enjoy a quiet supper with her husband and cats. Afterward, she and Dan would return to the grounds of The Spruces, the best spot from which to watch the display of pyrotechnics.

  The first stage of Liss’s plan worked beautifully. She and Dan were just about to leave the house for the hotel when the phone rang.

  “I hate to bother you, Liss,” her aunt said, “but I need a favor.”

  “No problem.” A glance at her watch told her there was still plenty of time to get back to The Spruces before the fireworks started. It took less than ten minutes to drive there from the town square. “What is it you want me to do?”

  “After the way they reacted to the fire alarm, I’m worried that Dandy and Dondi may be frightened by the noise of the fireworks. I know they’re inside the apartment, but if they panic, there’s no telling what they might do. I don’t mean to be a nervous Nellie, but someone was just telling me a truly terrifying story about a dog who got into such a state when fireworks went off that he jumped right through a second-floor window and was horribly injured.”

  Liss didn’t hesitate. She knew how she’d feel if they were talking about Lumpkin and Glenora rather than Dandy and Dondi. Margaret adored her two Scottish terriers, and she hadn’t owned them long enough to know for sure that they would take a barrage of loud explosions in stride.

  “Don’t worry,” she assured her aunt. “I’ll head over to your place right now. If the fireworks upset them, I’ll stay with them until the end of the show.”

  “I feel terrible asking you to do this. I know you and Dan were planning to come back here to watch the display.”

  “Think positive. Maybe the noise won’t bother the Scotties in the least. If that’s the case, we’ll only miss the very beginning.”

  “My fingers are crossed.” Margaret sounded much more upbeat.

  “Margaret needs us to check on the pups,” Liss told Dan when she got off the phone. “We may not make it to The Spruces for the fireworks after all.”

  “If you want to get back there, I can stay here and look after Dandy and Dondi.”

  Liss shook her head. “I’d rather spend the evening together, wherever we end up. If worse comes to worst, we should be able to see the fireworks pretty well from the windows in Margaret’s bedroom.” She took another peek at her watch, calculating. The fireworks were scheduled to start in a half hour. The show would last about that long, too. “If I go over to her place now, I can take the dogs for walkies beforehand. That might be a wise precaution in case they do get upset.”

  Dan answered her wry smile with one of his own. “Why don’t I bring the car over? Once the fireworks start, if it looks like Dandy and Dondi are going to be okay on their own, you can come down and we’ll head over there. If you don’t show, I’ll come up and help you keep them calm.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Liss delayed long enough to claim a kiss and then took herself off to Margaret’s apartment above Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium.

  When Liss’s aunt had acquired her two Scottish terriers a few months earlier, she’d installed a fenced-in dog run in the building’s small backyard. Liss had taken on the responsibility of letting them out several times a day. It was no bother. She was right there in the building and, in the normal way of things, not exactly overwhelmed with walk-in customers in her shop.

  Naturally, since the fireworks display was about to begin, Dandy and Dondi, five-year-old, jet-black Scotties who weighed about twenty pounds apiece, took their time doing their business. Liss waited impatiently until her watch told her they had only five minutes left before the first bang. The last of the twilight was already gone.

  After a fast game of catch-me-if-you can, Liss attached their leads and headed for the door to the stockroom. She kept the leashes on to take the dogs from the stockroom into the shop. She didn’t bother turning on a light. She could find her way through the shelves and racks even in the dark, but as it happened, there was light shining into the shop from the street lamps around the town square.

  She glanced out through the plate-glass front window as she crossed the sales floor. There were still a few people out and about on this mild July evening. They were only dark shapes, but she could tell that a couple sat on the adult-size swings in the playground. Their heads were close together, as if they were exchanging secrets. She’d bet money they were teenagers. Anyone older than that had better options for privacy when they were courting. A solitary figure—she couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman—passed them on one of the paths that crossed the square.

  Farther away, Liss saw Patsy stick her head out of the door to her place and look all around before ducking back inside. Liss supposed she was getting ready to close up for the night. Patsy owned a lakeside camp not too far out of town and spent some of her time there in the summer months. Liss wondered if she’d choose peace and quiet tonight. It was a toss-up, she decided. Patsy had to be up at three to start baking. It would probably make more sense for her to spend the night in he
r apartment above the café, her year-round home.

  Reminded of the imminent fireworks display—the reason she was in the darkened Emporium at this odd hour in the first place—Liss hurried to the stairwell door behind the sales counter and hauled the dogs after her up the steep flight of steps. She had just unhooked their leashes and handed over the promised treats when the first explosion filled the night sky with pinwheels of color.

  Dandy cocked her head, but didn’t seem at all disturbed by the sudden loud noise. Dondi never even looked up from his dog yummies. After checking to be sure the Scotties had kibble and fresh water, Liss left the apartment and scurried back downstairs. Dan was just pulling in at the curb in front of the Emporium as she stepped off the porch.

  “Need a lift, lady?”

  “I don’t know, mister. My mother always told me never to get into a car with a strange man.”

  “Strange, am I?”

  “Delightfully so.” She settled herself in the passenger seat, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek before she buckled up.

  With the windows open wide to the soft night air, Dan drove west along Pine Street. The hotel was situated on a height of land off to their right. It was just a couple of miles distant, but the only way to get there was via a twisting roller coaster of a road.

  They had barely passed the post office when the next round of fireworks went off. Liss stuck her head out of her window in time to catch a breathtaking glimpse of the five white-walled towers at The Spruces, bathed in red and blue and green light.

  She felt a little thrill of excitement course through her. She’d always liked fireworks, and this particular display kicked off this year’s Western Maine Highland Games, an annual event that had always been important to her and her family. Every year, the occasion marked a celebration of their Scottish American heritage.

  Italians from Cremona indeed!

  As a girl, she’d attended the games as a competitor. Now she went as a vendor. And, of course, six years ago tomorrow, she had been married in the midst of the festivities. Liss was already smiling when another boom and another burst of color turned her expression into a grin.

  Dan drove slowly, so they could see the fireworks display through the windshield. He applied the brakes as they approached the four-way stop at the corner of Pine and Lowe, even though there was no sign of any other traffic on either street. He was about to hang a right when Liss heard another bang, followed seconds later by more fireworks.

  She frowned. There had been something off about that first sound. She twisted around in her seat so she could look behind them.

  “Dan?”

  “I know. That wasn’t all pyrotechnics.” He had already turned the corner onto Lowe, but instead of continuing on, he pulled up to the right-hand curb.

  “Car backfiring?” She didn’t hold out much hope for such a mundane explanation.

  The idling engine sounded loud in the silence. Dan turned it off just as the next set of fireworks went off. “You know what it sounded like.”

  As one, they turned to stare at the darkened house on the corner of Pine and Lowe.

  It belonged to Jason Graye.

  The front porch faced Lowe Street, but there was another entrance on Pine. Out of the corner of her eye, Liss caught a flicker of movement in that direction. She squinted to see better, but all she could make out was a dark shape crossing the open space between Graye’s house and that of one of his neighbors. A moment later, the shadowy form had vanished into the neighbor’s backyard.

  “Did you see—?”

  But Dan was already out of the car and heading for Graye’s front porch. Liss fumbled with her seat belt, which at first refused to cooperate. She was several yards behind her husband by the time he reached the house.

  “Stay back,” he cautioned, his voice grim.

  “In your dreams.”

  “The door is open.”

  That announcement only spurred Liss on. It was barely ajar. That inch or two somehow seemed even more ominous.

  As soon as Liss came up beside Dan on the porch, he gave the heavy wooden door a push. Slowly, the gap widened until there was room for him to step inside. Liss was right on his heels. When he stopped, she clutched his upper arm and peered around it.

  The only illumination in the foyer came from a night-light plugged into the baseboard. It was more than sufficient to confirm what Liss had dreaded to find.

  That lone explosion had not been part of the fireworks display.

  It had been a gunshot.

  Chapter Nine

  Outside, more fireworks lit the night sky, adding eerie flashes of color to the scene. The erratic lighting gave Liss the sense that she was looking at a series of freeze-frame images. The body. The blood. The startled expression on Jason Graye’s face, as if he couldn’t believe someone had just killed him.

  Swallowing convulsively to keep nausea at bay, she watched Dan kneel beside the still form on the carpet and touch his fingers to Graye’s neck in search of a pulse. After a moment, he looked up, met Liss’s eyes, and shook his head. There was nothing he or anyone else could do to bring the realtor back to life.

  Silence descended following the latest series of fireworks. It was suddenly so quiet that Liss could hear the brush of Dan’s hand against the inside of his pocket as he pulled out his cell phone.

  She wanted more than anything to retreat onto the porch and escape the sight of their horrific discovery. Her feet refused to cooperate. She stood there, paralyzed, as incapable of closing her eyes or looking away as she was of moving. Only with a tremendous effort did she finally force her body into motion. She staggered a little as she backed up, inching out of the house with excruciating slowness. She supposed only a few seconds had passed, but that little bit of time had seemed like an eternity.

  Dan followed her onto the porch, leaving the door open behind him. He looked as rattled as she felt, but he still had sense enough to phone Sherri Campbell directly instead of going through the dispatch center that took over emergency calls to the Moosetookalook Police Department at night. This was not the first time that his ability to remember phone numbers had come in handy. If he hadn’t reached Sherri on her cell, he’d have been able to try Pete’s or their landline in less time than it would have taken the 9-1-1 dispatcher to notify the proper authorities.

  “Sherri, it’s Dan,” he said when she answered. “We’ve got a situation here.”

  As he described what they’d found, he slung an arm around Liss’s shoulders and tugged her close against his side. He gave her a reassuring squeeze when he ended the call.

  “Sherri’s on her way. We lucked out. She was still in her office. Shouldn’t take her more than a few minutes to get here.”

  Feeling too numb to do anything else, Liss nodded to show she understood. Slowly, his words sank in. Her mind began to function again.

  This wouldn’t be Sherri’s case. The state police took over when the crime was murder.

  The fireworks continued, filling the night with sound and color, but Liss barely noticed. She fished in a pocket for her own cell phone and speed-dialed her aunt.

  Margaret answered on the first ring. “Are the dogs okay?”

  For a moment, Liss went blank. Dogs? It seemed eons ago that soothing scared Scotties had been her most pressing concern. She had to swallow convulsively before she could answer.

  “Dandy and Dondi are fine, but Dan and I won’t be coming back to the hotel after all.”

  “Liss? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just didn’t want you to be looking for us.”

  “There’s something the matter. I can hear it in your voice.”

  Margaret fell silent as the next salvo exploded. It was the beginning of the finale, to judge by the number and size of the pinwheels. By the time the noise quieted enough to hear someone speak, Liss had spotted Sherri coming toward them at a dead run. It would have taken longer to get the police cruiser out of the parking lot behind the municipal buildi
ng and drive over.

  “Margaret, I have to go now. I’ll talk to you later.” She disconnected abruptly.

  “Stay outside,” Sherri ordered as soon as she arrived on the scene.

  She entered the house to confirm what Dan had told her on the phone. She was back outside in time to see the very last of the fireworks fade way. She ignored the display, using her portable radio to call for reinforcements. That done, she looked first at Liss and then at Dan.

  “Why are you two here?”

  Dan gave her a terse account of the reason they’d stopped to investigate and what they’d found.

  “Liss? Anything to add?”

  “I thought I saw someone on the Pine Street side of the house. A person running away.”

  “Don’t move.”

  Although it was clearly too late to catch anyone, Sherri circled the building to check on the other entrance. Moments later, she returned. “The kitchen door is standing wide open. It looks like Graye’s killer left that way just as you were pulling up to the curb. You’re lucky you didn’t walk in on him.”

  Liss knew she ought to be horrified by the very idea. Instead she had to fight an insane urge to giggle as the images from a movie chase scene, with comic characters dashing in one door and out another, popped into her head.

  “Liss?” Sherri asked. “You okay?”

  She didn’t dare answer until she had herself under control. Then she said, in a dry voice, “I think I finally get the concept of cop humor.”

  When things were truly awful, making bad, often tasteless jokes, allowed emergency workers to keep doing their jobs. They knew, as Liss did, that death wasn’t anything to laugh about, but there was still something to be said for comic relief. It was a lot healthier to crack wise than to dissolve into tears or have hysterics.

  “This person you saw,” Sherri said. “Was it a man or a woman?”

  “I couldn’t tell.”

  “Headed which direction?”

  “Through the backyards toward the town square.” The corner of Pine and Lowe was only one block away.