Kilt in Scotland

by Patience Griffin

  Rory gave Diana a reassuring look, then addressed Declan’s concern. “Returning every two hours isn’t the most efficient way to go about this, but it’s the safest.” Rory didn’t like it one bit that there was the possibility he was putting all the quilters in harm’s way. “The mobile reception here isn’t great. Also, it doesn’t hurt to see each and every one of them every two hours…just to be sure.”

  Diana gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s a good idea.” Rory knew she felt responsible for the quilters as well.

  Declan walked them to a Range Rover. “I usually walk to and from the castle, but this will give us more time to look.”

  Rory agreed. They piled into the vehicle and drove to the wool mill.

  They started in the dye shack. It was small and didn’t take long to search. Next they tackled the office building, finishing just in time to rush back to the castle for the first check-in.

  No one had anything to report—good or bad.

  As the day wore on, Rory became concerned. And Diana became frantic. After four hours,

  Rory called Sergeant Grear, but the bodies hadn’t been identified yet. When he requested photos, Grear told him it would do no good: dental records would be needed.

  At lunchtime, they broke to have sandwiches and hot tattie soup.

  “The quilters didn’t sign up for this,” Diana said. “They came to see Marta. I’m going to get her.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Diana appeared with her face set, towing Marta into the room by one arm.

  Marta shook Diana off before plastering a smile on her face. She strolled forward as if she owned the joint instead of the Laird. “Afternoon, everyone.”

  The quilters remained impassive. They weren’t going to let Marta off the hook so easily. Rory understood why the Scots were pissed. They couldn’t comprehend why Marta hadn’t gone out to help search. A part of him felt like he should come to her rescue and explain it was safer for her here. But he was curious to see how she would weasel her way out of this one and bring them back to her side. If she could…

  “Hello, my darlings. I have a surprise for you.” Marta dramatically flung her arms wide, as if a flock of turtle doves would spring from her embrace. “I know you have had a hard time on this multi-city retreat.”

  Multi-village is more like it, Rory corrected in his mind.

  “I spoke with my publisher.”

  Rory could tell Marta was lying by the widening of Diana’s eyes. He was certain Diana was the one who had talked with the publisher.

  Marta continued on, unaware of how she was ticking off her publicist. “I am pleased to announce that we’re about to have a very exciting prize drawing! There will be three lucky winners—one of the retreat goers, one of the Gandiegow ladies, and one of the Whussendale quilters, too.”

  The women looked at each other, their dismay changing into cautious excitement.

  “What’s the prize?” Deydie asked, pragmatically.

  “A trip to the States for two. To the International Quilt Festival in Houston next fall.”

  Excited chatter broke out. Rory knew most of these women considered themselves lucky to take a trip into Edinburgh, let alone to another country.

  “Diana, can you have everyone put their name on a piece of paper?”

  Diana produced a small notepad and handed it to Deydie along with a pen. “Can you get this started while I find three bowls?” Mrs. McNabb passed her the bowls, one for each group of women, obviously. “You’re included in the drawing, too,” Diana said.

  Mrs. McNabb beamed. “Thank ye.”

  Diana squeezed the old woman’s hand. “We appreciate how well you’ve been taking care of us.”

  The women finished writing their names and dropped their slips of paper into the appropriate bowl. Marta held her arms out to Rory. “DCI Crannach, will you do us the honor of drawing one name from each bowl?”

  Of course. It was like the doctor having the nurse give the shot instead of doing it himself. This way no one would blame Marta when they didn’t win.

  After an awkward embrace by Marta, he pulled out the three winning names: Lorna, Tally, Bethia.

  The women smiled and looked delighted, but didn’t squeal like contestants on the telly. He understood. They wouldn’t want to rub their good fortune in everyone’s face.

  Finally, Deydie clapped her hands and stepped up beside Marta. “We’ve all had food and fun. Now, let’s get back to the search.”

  Rory couldn’t agree more. He caught up with Diana as she headed out the door. “Are ye all right?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “It was weird having Marta do another giveaway while Parker is missing.”

  He leaned toward her. “Was it the only way you could get Marta to come downstairs?”

  Diana nodded. “She wanted to play the hero. I had to call in all kinds of favors and…” she broke off.

  “And what?”

  “The PR department wanted to exploit Parker’s disappearance, but. . .”

  “But ye held yere ground,” he finished for her.

  “Yes. I guess you haven’t heard anything about the victims at the airport?”

  “No news.” No news he would share with her.

  Declan drove them back to the wool mill and they continued with the search.

  For the remainder of daylight, they all did this dance, returning to the kitchen every two hours. When it got too dark to see, Rory called it for the night. The quilters drifted off to their rooms to rest before dinner. After Rory had a meeting with his expanded team and gave everyone their assignments, he headed to Diana’s room and knocked.

  When she opened the door, he saw she was more worried than she’d been before. He knew what she was feeling, because he was feeling it, too. The longer the disappearance, the less likely it would end well.

  Rory pulled Diana into his arms and shut the door with his foot in one smooth motion. “Don’t give up hope, lass.”

  “Where’s Leo?” she asked, to his surprise. “Tell me he’s still in jail.”

  Rory looked at her bed, scattered with papers. “Did ye turn yere bed into a murder board?”

  “Answer the question, Inspector,” she said.

  He pulled her close again. “Leo was let go on a technicality.”

  “When?” she asked. “Before Parker and Ewan went missing?”

  He nodded. “But I don’t want ye to jump to any conclusions.”

  “I’m not jumping to conclusions. He seems the logical suspect.”

  “What would be his motive?”

  “Hurt as many Three Seals employees as possible, I guess.” She paused. “I don’t know.”

  She looked so forlorn that he didn’t know what to do. So he kissed her.

  In response, she dragged him across the room to her bed and pulled him down as she swept the papers to the floor.

  This wasn’t the reason he’d come to her, but he wasn’t going to put up a fight. Mrs. McNabb said dinner would be in thirty-five minutes, so he had time to help make his American lass forget her worries.

  In half an hour, he reluctantly pulled away, giving Diana one last kiss before he got out of bed. “I’ll go downstairs first,” he said as he dressed. “Give me about five minutes’ head start.”

  In the hallway he pulled out his phone to check for messages. None.

  He decided in this case no news was good news.

  Rory wanted to linger on how Diana had lightened the pressure, the weight that had been pressing on his chest since Parker and Ewan had gone missing. Rory’s step felt lighter, too, as he made his way down the stairs and walked into the kitchen.

  His good feelings evaporated when he saw Leo standing by the large stone hearth, holding a mug of something hot, and having the brass to grin like the effing cat who’d eaten the canary.

  “Hello, Detective Chief Inspector. I bet you didn’t expect to see me here.”

  * * *

  Diana felt like she’d rather not get up at all, but after a few mi
nutes, she dragged herself from bed and dressed.

  She trotted downstairs and saw…Leo?

  Before Diana could do or say anything, the phone in her pocket buzzed. She didn’t take her eyes off Leo as she answered.

  “This is Diana McKellen.”

  “Diana!” a voice squealed. “You’ll never guess where I am!”

  Diana’s brain was trying to catch up to her shocked ears. “Parker?”

  “Yes, it’s me. You’re not going to believe it--I just got married!”

  17

  “Hold on a second,” Diana said. As confused as she was, she wanted to let everyone know Parker was safe.

  But Hugh burst into the kitchen and beat her to it. “Ewan and Parker are fine!” He held up his phone. “Ewan is on the line with me right now. They’re in Las Vegas and they just got married!”

  The whole room whooped and hollered, and then they all started talking at once. Rory turned to Diana, questioning her with his eyes. She couldn’t answer him yet, as she already had the phone back to her ear. But she did reach out and grab his arm to let him know she’d speak to him in a minute…and to steady herself.

  “You’re in Las Vegas? How?”

  “Ewan chartered a flight,” Parker said.

  “You just disappeared. Without a word.” Diana couldn’t help sounding accusatory, when she should just be happy her friend was alive.

  “A shuttle picked us up at the wool mill.” There were some muffled words and then Parker said, “I have to run. We’ll talk when I get home to Scotland.” There was no goodbye, only dial tone.

  Diana frowned at her phone, then looked up at Rory. “Well, she’s okay. Alive. But I swear, I’m going to kill her for what she’s put us through.”

  “It’s okay now.” Rory pulled Diana into his arms and hugged her. Immediately, he let go and looked around, as if the two of them had been caught in the act. But everyone was busy hugging everyone else.

  Deydie clapped her hands, getting their attention. “Settle down, people. I know we’ve worked ourselves up worrying about them, but they’re fine. And now, we have a lot of work to do.”

  Diana and Rory looked at each other and she knew he was having the same thought she was: What kind of ‘work’?

  Deydie answered their unspoken question. “If we all join together, we’ll be able to get a wedding quilt done by the time the happy couple gets home. I have the perfect design. Everyone can help.”

  “How much time do we have?” asked Bethia.

  Hugh laughed. “Twenty-four hours. They’ll be here tomorrow evening around six. And,” he added, “Sophie and I have decided to throw them a wedding reception when they arrive.”

  The room buzzed with chatter and excitement at the announcement.

  “Laird,” Lorna called out, “are ye going to bus in any men for us to dance with at this céilidh?”

  Hugh laughed. “We have several bachelors on the estate and on Ewan’s estate as well. Plenty of men to go around.”

  “I’ll make sure a van full of men comes from Gandiegow as well!” Deydie hollered cheerfully.

  “Now there’s some good news!” Lorna plopped down and everyone laughed.

  “What’s going on here?” Marta had just walked into the room with McCartney and MacTaggart.

  Multiple voices responded about the elopement, the wedding quilt and the party, but Marta wasn’t listening. She’d spotted Leo and looked dismayed, as if a lion had been let loose in the room.

  A cowardly lion, Diana thought.

  “Are you going to question him?” She whispered to Rory.

  “Aye. In a minute. But first, I want to observe the happy reunion.”

  If by happy he meant awkward and unpleasant—then he’d nailed it.

  “Come on, baby. I’m here to keep you safe,” Leo said, pawing Marta. “My poor darling. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from the fire. If I had known…”

  Marta looked conflicted, as if she wanted to believe him, but didn’t.

  “Let’s go up to your room to talk,” Leo coaxed.

  Rory stepped in then. “If Marta is willing, you can speak with her in the parlor. McCartney, you go with them.”

  “But—”

  Rory cut Leo off. “Those are the conditions”

  Leo put his hand on Marta’s arm, but she pulled away and walked from the room under McCartney’s watchful eyes.

  “Those two are getting back together?” Diana asked.

  “I don’t see how, but maybe.” Rory grimaced at the doorway, where they’d just left. “I’m going to have to check this out, too.”

  Sophie and several of the other quilters picked up trays loaded with food. “Everyone, come to the ballroom. We have a party to plan and a wedding quilt to piece.”

  Deydie hailed Diane as she entered the ballroom. “Lass, it’s agreed. We’re going to make a Gandiegow Rosette quilt for Parker and Ewan.”

  “This is so nice of all of you.” Diana beamed at the happy bedlam. What a grand gesture—a wedding quilt! Even Marta was at the cutting mat with a rotary cutter and a stack of white fabric. Diana was still trying to wrap her head around the fact Parker had gotten married.

  “I expect ye to participate, too.” Deydie gave one of her Jedi stares designed to make her sit behind a machine. “’Tis yere friend, after all.” She clamped a hand on Diana’s arm. “Ye’ll not argue. You can start by learning how to make a rosette, then ye can either hand-stitch it in place on the quilt or tack it down with the machine. I’ll help ye.” She guided Diana over to a sewing machine and sat right beside her, giving her instructions.

  Diana had seen several women sporting a rosette on their sash and thought it would be complicated to make. Surprisingly, though, the rosette came together quickly, and Diana was proud of what she’d done. She hated to admit it; Deydie was a good teacher and only barked at her a couple of times.

  Deydie dug in her bag and pulled out a quilt top. “It must’ve been fate that I put this in my bag before we left for Whussendale nearly-finished.” She spread out the top made of stars around the edges and a panel of sheep in the center. She smoothed down the creases with her gnarled hands. “My new ewes inspired me. I looked through my stash and found this sheep fabric. I had just enough to make a small lap quilt. But I’ve decided to give it to yere friend and Laird Ewan. By the way those two look at each other, I’m sure Parker will be in the family way before the honeymoon is over.” Deydie cackled then. “I’m going to call this quilt Feeling Sheepy. What do ye think?”

  “I think it’s wonderful!” Diana was so overcome by love for this old woman that she couldn’t help but hug her. “And I know the truth about you. You’re an ol’ softy.” When Deydie tried to pull away, Diana whispered the rest. “I promise not to tell anyone.”

  Deydie hugged her back then. “Ye’re not so bad for a Yank.”

  Sophie rushed over with a panicked look on her face. Not a someone-died look but a help-me look. “Deydie, Lorna wants to change up the Gandiegow Rosette quilt and add little rosettes for where your quilt calls for pinwheels.”

  Deydie forcefully scooted back her chair and stood. “Over my dead body, she will!” She hustled off with Sophie to fix the problem.

  As Deydie left, Tilly grabbed her bag and headed in Diana’s direction looking guiltily this way and that. What is she up to?

  She sat beside Diana and set her bag at her feet.

  “What’s up?” Diana said.

  “I have something for you.” Tilly reached in, pulled out a drawstring bag, and held it out to Diana. “The first three chapters of the new Quilt to Death novel. I thought you might like to read it.” She dropped her head and spoke to the parquet floor. “Since you’re trying to save the Buttermilk Guild.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Tilly. I feel honored.” Diana took the bundle and pulled at the drawstring, but Tilly stopped her by clutching her hand.

  “No. Not here. Don’t let Marta see.”

  “I won’
t,” Diana said. “I’m still waiting on your answer about doing promotional appearances.”

  Tilly glanced over at Marta and then back at Diana. It looked as if she might cry. “I’ll do it. But just don’t expect me to be Marta.”

  Diana grasped her hand and gave her a fortifying smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Tilly got up and returned to her place at Marta’s side, handing her pieces of fabric to cut.

  Diana pulled up the promo document on her phone, reduced the number of appearances Tilly would be scheduled to make, and then emailed it to Nicola at Three Seals. When she was done, she was about to slip upstairs to read Tilly’s pages when Deydie came roaring back.

  “Have ye finished that second rosette yet?” the old woman hollered.

  “Yes.” Diana held it up for her to admire.

  Deydie cocked her head to the side. “I guess that would do--if seen from a galloping horse. Keep at it, lass.”

  Diana spent the rest of the evening with the relieved and happy quilters and didn’t see Rory at all. Which was good, right? She needed distance. Perspective. Actually, she needed to get a grip. But she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if he would sneak into her room again tonight.

  When she opened her bedroom door, there he was, lying on her bed with his hands stacked behind his head.

  She didn’t hesitate but closed the door behind her and hurried into his arms. I deserve this, she thought. The past day and a half had been terrifying, and the Detective Chief Inspector had a way of making her forget her fears.

  Diana just had to make sure she kept it light. There was no future for them. But they did have tonight.

  * * *

  Last night, Rory had been studying the ceiling and asking himself why he’d come to Diana’s room…and made himself at home in her bed. He just hadn’t been able to stop his feet from bringing him there. It’d been wonderful having her in his arms again and holding her all night. But now that it was morning, he had work to do.