Kilt Dead (2 page)

For the next month, Liss continued to exercise religiously
to strengthen her knee. She alternated between feeling
sorry for herself and making plans. Most of them were impractical, but she told herself she might as well dream big.
It wasn’t impossible that she’d win at Megabucks. Then,
founding an institute to promote folk dancing would make
perfect sense.

She was almost through all the standard stages of grief
before she realized she’d been in mourning. By then, she
had acquired two things that promised to make her adjustment to life without performing a little easier. The first
was a car, a quirky, three-year-old P.T. Cruiser. Liss had
never owned a car before. She hadn’t needed one. She’d
lived in cities or been on tour since she was seventeen.

The second was the offer of a job-temporary, it was
true-but in a place Liss had once loved almost as much
as she’d loved being part of Strathspey.

On a sunny Friday in July, Liss MacCrimmon returned
to Moosetookalook, Maine.

Her first impression was that her old hometown looked
smaller and more dismal than she remembered it. She
supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. It had been over ten
years since she’d been back. She’d left shortly after high
school graduation. A few months later, her parents had
moved to Arizona. She’d had no reason to spend time in
Moosetookalook after that … until now.

The low-fuel alarm dinged, startling her. Since she had
just come abreast of Willett’s Store, she turned in to gas
up, noting as she did so that at least this one place seemed
exactly the same. Two gas pumps stood in solitary splendor out front, both designated as “full service.” Inside the
small, square clapboard building painted bright yellow
she had no doubt the Willetts still stocked everything from
milk to mousetraps.

Ernie Willett shuffled out to fill the tank and wash her
windows. He looked, as always, as if his teeth hurt.

“Know you, don’t I, missy?” His dark, beady eyes narrowed as he inspected her.

Liss gave him a friendly smile and told him her name.
Within the hour, she thought, the whole town would have
heard she was back in Moosetookalook. If they didn’t already know she was coming.

“You Donald and Vi’s daughter?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s right. I’m here to give my Aunt Margaret a
hand in the shop”

Small towns in Maine being what they were, Liss was
certain he already knew about her aunt’s stroke of good
fortune. Margaret MacCrimmon Boyd had been offered a
free trip to Scotland if she’d fill in at the last moment for a tour guide who’d fallen ill. A frugal New Englander,
Aunt Margaret had seized the chance. Then she’d paid her
luck forward and asked Liss to manage her business for
her while she was gone.

“Margaret Boyd” Willett’s craggy, grizzled face hardened as he said her name.

The animosity Liss saw in his expression sent a chill
along her spine. She didn’t understand his reaction at all.
Most people liked Aunt Margaret.

Willett leaned closer, his cold stare inspecting both Liss
and the interior of her car. “Heard you had some la-dedah job in the theater.” His thin lips flattened with what
Liss assumed was disapproval.

“I was with a dance company.” The ache was still there.
Every time she thought of all she’d lost, it hurt. “Could
you fill it up for me, please, Mr. Willett?”

He slouched off to activate the gas pump, muttering
under his breath. Liss caught the words “damn fool woman”
and wondered if he was referring to her or to her aunt.

She dug her wallet out of her purse, then glanced into
her side mirror. Willett was just dunking a squeegee into
a bucket. He washed her back window, then rapped on the
glass sunroof as he sidled past the passenger side on his
way to the windshield. “Want me to do this peephole thing
too?”

“No need” But his words made her look up. At one
side of the opening she caught a glimpse of the highest
rooftop of The Spruces.

Liss smiled as her memory filled in details. In her
mind’s eye she saw it as a postcard-perfect grand hotel.
Against a darker backdrop of mountains and trees, white
walls stood out in sharp relief. Four-story octagonal towers rose from each end of the building, flanking a central
tower of five floors surmounted by a cupola. Built on the
crest of a hill, The Spruces had dominated Moosetookalook from the moment it opened in 1910. It loomed over houses
and stores, forcing its identity on the town below. Local
folks called it “the castle.”

In its heyday, the first half of the twentieth century,
The Spruces had attracted the rich and famous, from
divas to heads of state. The lure of fresh mountain air and
pure spring water, combined with rail service, privacy,
and luxurious accommodations, had once been enough to
keep over two hundred rooms filled.

Sadly, The Spruces had been dying by the time Liss
knew it. It had still hosted proms and weddings, and
taken in long-term lodgers, but after years of barely making ends meet, the owners had finally shut its doors for
good five years ago. The railroads had been long gone by
then. Only one puny Amtrak line even reached Maine
anymore. Air travel had made more luxurious vacation
spots accessible, and at lower prices. Even the fresh
mountain air had become suspect, thanks to acid rain
from factories to the south and west.

Liss had paid scant attention to news of the hotel’s
closing at the time. She’d been busy with her career as a
dancer. Her parents had already moved away. She’d honestly never expected to return to the small rural community where she was born. Then again, she’d never expected
to blow out her knee and lose her livelihood, either.

Ernie Willett’s quilted, blaze-orange vest hovered into
view at the driver’s-side window, jerking Liss out of her
reverie. He wore that getup year round, she recalled, not
just during hunting season.

The cost of the gas was even more startling. Owning
her own car was proving much more expensive than she’d
anticipated.

Liss handed over a sheaf of small bills.

Folding them with gnarled fingers, Willett gave her a
positively malevolent look before he stalked back inside
the store.

Liss stared after him for a moment, shaking her head.
What an odd man. Obviously no one had ever told him that
being courteous to customers was the best way to keep
them coming back. Then again, if this was still the only gas
station in Moosetookalook, he probably wasn’t too worried about the locals going to the competition.

As Liss drove away, following the curve of the road toward the center of town, she shrugged off Ernie Willett’s
bad attitude. Now that she was really here, all the frustrations and disappointments of the last three months seemed
a little less devastating. A sense of anticipation lightened
her heart. She’d always been fond of Aunt Margaret. Although she hadn’t visited her here, they had kept in touch
by letter and email and seen each other at Liss’s folks’
house in Arizona. Liss looked forward to spending a little
time with her aunt before Margaret left for Scotland.

And with more eagerness than she’d felt about anything
in ages, she relished the prospect of immersing herself in the
day-to-day operation of Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium.

The hum of a small engine from the quiet street below
caught Dan Ruskin’s attention. He’d been listening for it,
he supposed, ever since Margaret Boyd told him Liss was
coming home.

She drove a P.T. Cruiser. The choice surprised him. It
was practical, but almost stodgy in appearance. He knew
she wasn’t a big-time movie actress or anything, but somehow he’d expected she’d pick a sportier ride. She’d had
her own style, even as a kid, favoring colorful, flamboyant clothing and paying no attention at all to current fads
and fashions.

“What do you suppose they call that color?” Dan’s
brother Sam asked, gesturing at Liss’s car with the Ruskin
Construction ball-cap he’d taken off to use as a fan. The roof of a three-story Victorian was a hot place to be on a
steamy afternoon in late July.

“Tan?” Dan suggested.

“I was thinking … putty.”

Dan chuckled. “Probably some fancy name for it.
Champagne, maybe? I’ll have to remember to ask”

“Yeah, right. Talk about cars. That’ll go over big. Might
as well discuss the weather.”

“I could invite her up here to look at the scenery.” Dan
was only half joking.

From this vantage point, he had a spectacular view not
only of the town square below, but also of the countryside
around Moosetookalook. In the distance he could see a
good chunk of the hilly terrain of western Maine. Every
shade of green was represented in the abundant vegetation.

Some folks thought the fall was prettier, when sugar
maples sported crimson cloaks and elms adorned in gold
vied for attention with the variously hued mantles of
birches, ashes, and alders, but Dan would take the vivid
greens over reds and yellows and burnt-umbers any day.
Every one was distinctive. Varieties of evergreen from
balsam, to pine, to the spruces for which the hotel overlooking Moosetookalook had been named, contrasted prettily with deciduous trees in all their summer finery.

Of course the hardwoods were better for furnituremaking.

“Does she know you bought her old house?” Sam asked.

“I’ve got no idea.” Her parents had sold it to a college
professor who’d taught at the Fallstown branch of the
University of Maine. He’d since moved on. For the last
year, Dan had owned the place. Eventually, he meant to
turn the downstairs into a furniture showroom where he
could sell the hand-crafted pieces he made in his spare
time.

“You surprised she came back?” Sam snugged the
ball-cap back into place.

Dan shrugged, still watching the car. “Ten years ago
I’d have bet money she wouldn’t. `Never coming back,’
she said when she left. Sure sounded like she meant it.”

“Teenagers say a lot of things they later regret” Sam’s
eyes narrowed. “Do ‘em, too. The way I remember it, you
once had a wicked crush on Liss MacCrimmon.”

“Yeah. In third grade. Showed my affection by putting
a snake in her desk. She paid me back by stuffing it down
the front of my shirt.”

He’d still been attracted to her when they were fifteen
or so, but Liss hadn’t seemed to return his interest. He’d
ended up going steady with Karen Cloutier instead. Karen
had been cheerleader to his basketball player the last two
years of high school. Perfect match, everyone had said.
Too bad she turned so crazy jealous every time he even
spoke to another girl. He wondered what had happened to
Karen. They’d gone off to different colleges after graduation and lost touch. He hadn’t thought about her in years.

He had thought about Liss MacCrimmon. Thanks to
Margaret Boyd, he’d gotten periodic updates. The latest
news was that Liss had taken a fall and banged up her knee
pretty bad and that Margaret had invited her to Moosetookalook to finish recuperating.

“Why don’t you go on down and join the welcoming
committee?” Sam suggested with a knowing grin. “I can
finish repointing the chimney.”

Dan shook his head. “I don’t like crowds”

As soon as Liss parked her car, her aunt came bustling
out of Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium. A plump
woman in her late fifties, she wore one of her trademark
Scottish outfits, a white dress with a tartan sash. Her son
Ned was right behind her. He was not one of Dan’s favorite people. And Amanda Norris had popped out onto the porch of the house next door, one of the few in the
area that did not have a retail business, or plans for one,
on its ground floor.

Good old Mrs. Norris. She never missed a trick. And
no one could miss her. Her pear-shaped body was encased in bright-pink sweat pants and an orange t-shirt
decorated with a picture of a cartoon cat. Dan couldn’t
say for certain at this distance, but she was probably
wearing her favorite blue and white jogging shoes, the
ones with the fluorescent chartreuse shoelaces.

He wondered if she’d known in advance when Liss
was due to arrive, or if she’d spotted the car from her
watching post in the bay window. Perched on a strategically placed chair, Mrs. Norris kept an eye on the entire
neighborhood. Dan knew that if he went down now, she’d
be after him for news of his sister’s pregnancy, his uncle’s
gallbladder operation, and the latest on the carpenter his
father had fired for petty theft. Dan wasn’t about to let
himself be buttonholed by a nosy old lady.

He moved a little closer to the edge of the roof to
watch Liss get out of her car. The last time he’d seen her
had been high school graduation. He remembered her as
a tall, slim seventeen-year-old with sparkling eyes that
changed from blue to green, depending upon what she
wore, and dark brown hair cut straight and shoulderlength. At first glance she didn’t seem to have changed
much. She was still willowy as ever. Dan had been one of
the few boys in school who’d been taller than she was.
Thinner, too, but he’d filled out since then.

Liss used one hand to brace herself against the roof of
her car while she pointed her left toe and flexed that foot,
apparently working the kinks out before she tried to walk.
Dan was surprised to see that the few steps she took before she was enveloped in Margaret Boyd’s welcoming
hug were unsteady. Liss had always moved with remarkable grace. She’d never clumped when she walked, the way most people did. Just how badly, he wondered, had
she been hurt?

Liss returned her aunt’s embrace with equal enthusiasm. “You look great, Aunt Margaret. I like the new color.”
Her aunt’s hair was an even more brilliant red than it had
been when Liss had last seen her. “And Ned” She hugged
him too.

Ned was only four years her senior, but that had been
enough of a gap to create some distance between them.
Her cousin had always regarded her as a pest, and he
hadn’t hesitated to tell her so.