Be Still My Bleating Heart (A Scottish Highland Mystery Book 4)

by Hannah Reed

  It was too early to seek out club members and Glenkillen businesses weren’t open yet, so I drove to the police station and found Jamieson at his desk reviewing files.

  “I heard about Leith Cameron,” he said, his sharp eyes studying my face.

  “I just came from the harbor. A search is underway. He’s the only one who hasn’t radioed in.”

  “Do ye want tae take some time off?” he asked, his Scottish accent soft and understanding.

  “I’m worried, I admit it. But sitting around doing nothing would be intolerable. I’d like to speak with the doctor. And since I’m here, I want a word with Andy.”

  “Ye want me tae sit in? Although I haven’t accomplished much with either o’ them.”

  I spotted Sean entering the building. “No, I can handle this and definitely don’t suggest that Sean go in with me.”

  The inspector raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought ye were the lad’s biggest supporter.”

  “Have ye charged the doctor?” Sean asked, ambling into the room. “And how about our car robber?”

  “Andy Morris has been charged,” the inspector said. “And as tae the doctor, we’ll finish out the day with more investigating before we take that action.”

  Sean wore a slightly disappointed expression. “There’s nothin’ more tae do. He’s the one.”

  “Constable Elliott has a few ideas,” Jamieson said.

  I did? That was news to me.

  “I’ll help her then,” Sean said. The inspector and I exchanged glances. I hope I conveyed the plea I couldn’t voice.

  Jamieson came through. “I need ye down at the harbor. Leith Cameron is still unaccounted for and ye are tae keep us informed as tae progress. If I need ye fer the murder case, I’ll pull ye from the dock.”

  Sean’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Ye want me at the harbor?”

  “Aye, and make it quick.”

  “Wear sunscreen,” I advised Sean, glad that someone would be on hand at that scene. The Scottish fair skin couldn’t handle the sun’s harsh rays and I didn’t want Sean abandoning his post because of a bad burn.

  Sean left, grumbling under his breath.

  I smiled. “You had breakfast this morning, didn’t you?”

  “Ye want a growl, I can give ye one.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re a changed man when your blood sugar is in check.”

  “I’ll get our jailbird.” Jamieson rose.

  Several minutes later, he brought the doctor into the interrogation room where I waited, handcuffed him to a chair, and departed. I presumed that he would be watching and listening to our conversation from the other side of the mirror.

  Dr. Teague’s shoulders slumped and his demeanor implied that he had given up, accepting whatever fate awaited him. His face was haggard, and his eyes didn’t meet mine.

  “Doctor,” I began, “we don’t have much time, so I will get right to the point. We are aware of the circumstances surrounding your resignation in Glasgow. I would like to know how Stuart McKay learned of it.”

  The doctor stared at his feet. “It isn’t a hard thing tae learn if ye search a wee bit. Ye found out yerself in no time at all. It’s that most people, patients I’m referring tae, don’t bother with searching a person’s past unless they want tae use it fer no good. That was a hobby tae McKay, especially if he wanted tae cause pain.”

  “That’s why he came to the surgery and called you names?”

  “Quack? Aye. He was holding it over my head, threatening tae tell my patients.”

  “So that begs the question. Did you murder Stuart to silence him?”

  The doctor looked up at the mirror behind which Jamieson was sure to be standing. “No! I did not kill Stuart McKay.”

  “Your neighbor, Poppy, related an incident that occurred last week. Someone dressed in a hoodie was peering in the window at the surgery. It was at dusk so Poppy didn’t get a good look, but she thought the individual was acting suspicious.”

  Teague shrugged indifferently and studied his feet again. “It might have been anyone. A patient hoping to catch me in, perhaps fer a consultation.”

  I went on, “Doctor, if you are as innocent as you claim, then someone planted the murder weapon on your property hoping we would find it. A suspicious character was seen in the vicinity before the murder, possibly surveying the surgery and garden. That would suggest premeditation. Not only was Stuart McKay a victim, but if what you say is true, you yourself are about to become the next victim as well. You might not be losing your life but you will lose your freedom. Don’t you care enough to fight?”

  This time the doctor glanced at me. “I was beside myself with grief when I learned what I had done tae my patient. And what I’d done tae his family. It was inexcusable. I resigned from the hospital and seriously considered never practicing medical again. But all I know is how to help people, so I quietly moved tae Glenkillen when I learned of the surgery being available and bought it. Here, I administer at a much lower level where I can’t hurt anybody like I did before.

  “My days of operating are at an end. I try tae make amends in small ways, stitching up minor cuts and setting broken bones. But in the end, maybe I deserve what’s happening tae me fer being so arrogant as tae think I could continue treating patients in any manner.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The doctor was in such pain. He was responsible for at least one death, and he was suffering terribly. His speech to me was heartfelt, and I wanted to believe him, but still the evidence against him was powerfully strong.

  More and more I was convinced that the doctor was being framed. But another, more sinister idea came into focus.

  It was possible that Stuart McKay’s murder was a means to a different end. Maybe he wasn’t really the intended target. Stuart was an unlikeable character, so we’d assumed someone he’d provoked had killed him. But maybe the doctor wasn’t just a convenient way to shift blame from the real killer. Could this have been carefully planned out from the very beginning to bring down the doctor?

  “Give me something to go on,” I said, quietly. “Who would do this to you?”

  Dr. Teague stared at me. “I have no idea. Are ye really saying ye believe that I’m innocent?”

  “I think that’s a reasonable possibility. And the killer could very well be someone from your own past.”

  Chapter 17

  I was in such a hurry to further investigate the doctor’s history that I raced out of the building, disregarding the inspector and forgetting about my earlier request to speak with Andy Morris. At the Kilt & Thistle, I set up my laptop behind a thick stone column in a back warren where no one would look for me. Then I began another online search.

  I went back and reread news reports of the death of Callum Woodward, Teague’s patient who had died from sepsis. Both of the deceased man’s parents, Lorna and Ivar Woodward, had been interviewed after the pursuit of charges against the doctor had been dropped.

  “Callum would have agreed with the final outcome,” Ivar stated. “We wish the doctor no ill will.”

  Lorna concurred. “It was a tragic accident, one we must all learn to live with.”

  I searched specifically for images, hoping to find photographs of them, and was rewarded with several. Neither would have stood out in a crowd. But I was certain I’d never seen either of them in Glenkillen.

  I called the inspector.

  “Well if it isn’t the sprinter who blew out o’ the station earlier.”

  “I had something to do. Can we look into the family of Dr. Teague’s patient, the one who died after surgery? Parents’ names are Ivar and Lorna Woodward. Patient was Callum Woodward. I might be grasping at straws, but I’d like to know where they were when Stuart McKay was killed.”

  The inspector sighed heavily. “Ye suspect the parents o’ the murder?”

  “You listened to my interview with Dr. Teague, right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then you understand why I’m looking
into the doctor’s past. The parents were pretty forgiving in the newspaper articles I just read. I doubt that they had anything to do with it. But what about a girlfriend? Or other family members who might have been seeking revenge? Maybe Brenda and Derrick Findlay are related to the Woodward’s somehow. We’re looking for someone who wasn’t as quick as the parents to forgive.”

  “I’ll see what I can do through law enforcement in Glasgow.”

  “Thank you, and, uh, any word down at the dock?”

  “Ye’ll be the first tae know.”

  I phoned Vicki shortly after to update her on Leith’s situation and to let her know that Sean was at the harbor.

  “I’ll take Sean some lunch,” she said. “A nice warm smoked haddock bake will do him good. There’s more here if you want to stop home and eat.”

  “No thanks. I’m on a roll and don’t want to waste a minute.”

  I gathered up my personal belongings and headed for the front of the pub, where Bill sat at his usual table. The two of us have been civil with each other up to this point, but today Bill shot me the evil eye.

  “And good day to you, too,” I said, when he continued to glare.

  Bill shook his head as though finding something hard to believe. “I thought ye were the good one,” he said. “But yer just as bad as him.”

  As bad as the inspector, I assumed. “We didn’t have a choice in arresting your nephew. Andy robbed those women. He’s confessed. I thought that’s what you yourself advocated.”

  “Aye, but ye are trying tae make him admit tae things he didn’t do.”

  “He isn’t accused of murdering Stuart McKay.”

  “It’s been brought up by that wee copper with the big boasts.”

  “Officer Stevens has reversed his position.” Which wasn’t true. Sean believed in the doctor’s guilt wholeheartedly.

  “But murder isn’t all I’m referring tae, not that I’m talking tae you at all. Trumping up, ye are. Yer just as bad.”

  For some reason that stung. I’d gone out of my way to befriend all the locals. And I’d never bullied anyone to get them to confess to anything. I tried to be the epitome of decorum when working as a special constable and always deferred to the inspector when the situation called for a bad guy. A role he didn’t seem to mind.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, coaxing.

  But Bill was done. His lips were set in a hard line.

  As I left the pub, I almost ran into Rhona.

  “The hobby bobby,” she exclaimed. “Just the person I’m looking for.”

  “Now what?” was on the tip of my tongue as I was feeling tense and rushed and disliked. Time was running out. Leith was missing. And whatever small amount of cordiality that had existed between Bill and myself had evaporated.

  Wait. What had she just called me?

  “Hobby bobby?” I said coldly, as she turned and followed me.

  “I meant it in an affectionate way,” Rhona explained. “In fact, I want tae apply for a position. I figure if ye can do it, so can I. Catching that robber opened my eyes to my true calling.”

  “You’re retired. You don’t need a calling.” I stopped and shifted the tote containing my laptop to the other shoulder. “I’m really in a hurry. Can we talk about this another time?” Like never.

  But the pensioner wouldn’t give up, a personality trait that had gotten her locked in the trunk of her own car. “I have information about that murder that you could use.”

  A new voice piped up, rather loudly. “Information about the murder?”

  Morag Lisle appeared on the street and had overheard us.

  “Shhh.” Rhona frowned. “Not so loud. And yer late.”

  “I couldn’t find my car keys. Searched all over before they showed up.”

  Rhona addressed me, “It’s nothing at all that I know. Forget I said anything.”

  I hurried past the amateur sleuth team. Apparently, warning them away from the murder investigation was futile. Besides, if those two actually discovered something worthwhile to contribute, how could that hurt?

  “What information?” I heard Morag asked. The answer blew away with the closing of the door. I seriously doubted that Rhona would tell Morag about her request to become a special constable. She would worry about the potential for competition for the non-existent position.

  I imagined Rhona on the force. The inspector would go stark raving mad.

  Chapter 18

  The inspector was in his office, long legs on top of his desk, ankles crossed, talking on the phone. I sidled in without an invitation and sat down across from him.

  The conversation was one-sided, Jamieson listening. Or perhaps he’d been put on hold. There was nothing for me to do but wait.

  “Thank ye fer yer assistance,” he said, finally hanging up. He removed his feet from the desk, glanced at a clock on the wall, and addressed me, “Didn’t I chust speak tae ye moments ago?”

  “I was at the pub. It’s a hop and a skip away. What have you got?”

  “Since I spoke tae ye? Nothing o’ significance yet. Glasgow is willing tae gather the requested information regarding the Woodard family, but it’ll take time.”

  “We don’t have time!”

  Jamieson held up his hands. “Slow down. Yer working yerself into a snit. We have this day and many days after this one tae make or break a case.”

  “You are rushing an arrest! I understand the pressure you must be under to solve this but…”

  An eyebrow shot up. “We have damning evidence. The bloody smoking gun. Ye’d let him loose, would ye?”

  “This will ruin his career.”

  “He did that tae himself.”

  We glared at each other. Then his appearance softened. “I know yer feeling let down. Disappointed in the human race, refusing tae believe the doctor is capable o’ murder. But facts are facts, and ye can’t stuff them in a box when it suits ye.”

  “You don’t believe he’s innocent.” The expression on his face told me I’d guessed correctly. “You’ve been humoring me? Giving me the day to run around trying to prove he’s innocent when all along you plan to charge him?”

  “Ye need more time tae accept it and I’m giving ye what I can. Glasgow will get back tae us on the whereabouts o’ the patient’s parents and a rundown on friends and family. Ye’ll see that they weren’t in Glenkillen, killing Stuart McKay. And ye’ll be left with Teague.”

  “Unbelievable!”

  I rose and stomped out, jumped in the Peugeot, and wiped away a tear. The inspector and I had never argued before. In the past, our views had usually coincided not collided. We’d been able to read each other’s thoughts and intentions. Not this time. I was a rookie and he’d let me run out to the end of my rope. I’d been tethered all along and hadn’t been aware of it. I was angry and felt betrayed.

  I drove to the harbor where many of the fishing and sailing boats had left the dock for the day, leaving most of the slips empty. Vicki and Sean greeted me from the end of the dock where the two sailors I’d met earlier were still watching the sea for news.

  “Any word?” I asked, addressing anyone who might want to respond.

  “Nothing,” Sean said. “This would be my most boring assignment tae date, if Vicki hadn’t appeared tae keep me company.”

  Vicki rummaged in a basket at her feet and brought out a covered dish. “I brought an extra plate of smoked haddock bake and it’s still warm. Sit.”

  I plopped on a bench and accepted the meal, took a bite, and told her it was good, which was the best I could offer considering my emotional state and my inability to taste anything.

  “Haddock,” Sean said. “Potatoes, spring onions, broad beans, a few secret spices known only tae Vicki, and a cheesy crust on top. Eat it up and it’ll change yer mood from sour tae sweet. Ye must be keen on a good meal.”

  “You need to stay optimistic,” Vicki said a minute or two later.

  I swallowed and composed myself. “Everything is going wrong
. Dr. Teague will be charged with murder and I’d hoped he was innocent, Andy is a criminal and Bill has decided I’m some kind of crooked cop, Leith and Kelly are missing along with the fishermen he took out, and I fear the outcome…”

  “Now, now,” Sean interrupted. “Yer letting yer mind take over and think the worst. Here’s the truth. The doctor deserves tae be charged, we’re glad tae have the robber behind bars, and Cameron will make it in.”

  I continued to sulk while they walked down the pier, hand-in-hand, heads together in hushed conversation. I stood, placed the empty plate in the basket, and gazed out toward the lighthouse where several boats, motorized and sailboat alike, were vying for space to go out and come into the inlet.

  “Me eyes are playing tricks,” one of the men down the pier shouted. “I do believe that’s Cameron’s fishing boat coming this way.”

  The other used binoculars to scan the water. I ran over.

  “Aye, that’s his.”

  I interrupted, “Can you see him? And the fishermen? And Kelly?”

  After another moment, he said, “All accounted fer. And that’s the search boat trailing behind them.”

  I actually jumped for joy. Then ran over to Leith’s slip and waited impatiently for the boat to arrive. Vicki and Sean stood beside me as Leith pulled in and threw a line to Sean, who cleated it securely. The search boat went on further down the pier and tucked into another slip.

  Leith grinned up at me, and I would have thrown smoked haddock bake at him if I hadn’t eaten it all. Or been so happy. How dare he grin when we’ve been worried sick!

  Kelly leapt from the boat. After helping his clients onto the dock and sending them away, Leith turned to us. The grin dropped.

  “Those blokes almost got us killed out there,” he said. “One o’ them dropped the radio overboard in the worst moments o’ the storm. The other smashed the GPS unit, don’t ask me how. And I practically had to strap them down on opposite sides of the boat to keep us from capsizing, both o’ them running tae the same side at once.”