Kilt at the Highland Games (17 page)

“Stop beating yourself up. You can't know that things would have turned out any differently. No one can.”

Sherri said nothing. Despite Gordon's words, guilt weighed heavily on her.

“Snap out of it, Chief Campbell.” The command was issued in such a sharp and authoritarian voice that she came to attention. “You've got a job to do, and so do I. I don't have time to pamper you.”

As he no doubt intended, Sherri felt a bracing flash of anger at his words.

“I want you to go stay with the girl. Make sure she doesn't take it into her head to go off on her own, especially if she hears that the boyfriend is in the hospital.”

“How much do you want me to tell her and her parents?”

“Whatever it takes to keep her safe.”

Sherri sent him a curt nod and headed for the parking lot where she'd left her cruiser. The girl's father was going to react badly to the news that his daughter had been sneaking out to meet a boy he didn't approve of, but that secret wasn't worth keeping if it meant an innocent sixteen-year-old girl might become the killer's next target.

She left the wooded area and had gone barely a dozen yards beyond the athletic field when she ran into Liss MacCrimmon and Jake Murch.

“This isn't just an accident, is it?” Liss asked. “Not with Gordon Tandy here.”

Sherri shook her head. Belatedly, it occurred to her that Liss had caught a glimpse of Graye's murderer, too. Amie wasn't the only one who needed to be warned of potential danger.

“Someone stabbed Kent Humphrey, the boy on the swings. It looks like whoever killed Jason Graye is trying to cover his tracks.”

Liss's eyes widened as she absorbed the implications of Sherri's words. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “What about the girl who was with him?”

“Amie Fitzwarren. So far, she's okay. But you saw him, too.”

“I don't think he saw me. He, or she, was heading away from me.”

“If there's the slightest chance you were recognized, you need to be on your guard.”

Sherri was already moving again, but Liss trotted along beside her with Murch lagging a little behind. “Sherri, wait. There's something peculiar about a couple of the guests at The Spruces. I don't know if it connects to the murder, but it may to Angie.”

That stopped her in her tracks. “Which guests?”

“Underhill and Eldridge, only Eldridge isn't his real name. Jake overheard some things they said to each other, and we think they may have been talking about Angie and her kids.”

Sherri gave the private investigator a sharp look. “Let me know what you find out.”

“What?” Outrage underscored Liss's words. “Sherri, you need to follow up on this.”

“Much as I like Angie and Beth and Bradley, finding three people who appear to have disappeared of their own volition is not at the top of my current to-do list, nor is figuring out why a guest at the hotel is registered under a pseudonym. Right now, priority number one is to make sure a teenaged girl stays safe.”

Certain she had made the right decision, Sherri hurried on her way without so much as a backward glance.

* * *

Liss returned to the Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium booth in an unsettled state of mind. Although it was already close to the six o'clock closing time for the Highland Games, the grounds were still crowded with people, both festival-goers and vendors. No one who had been in the area when Kent was discovered could leave without first speaking to an officer. Liss didn't envy the state troopers that job. They'd have to take hundreds of statements. Worse, chances were good that no one had seen anything useful. From what she could gather, Kent Humphrey had been found in a wooded area that was not being used for any part of the Highland Games.

Boxer had loyally remained on the job, but he was bursting with curiosity. “What's going on, Liss? Why are the cops swarming all over the place?”

“You haven't heard anything?”

He shrugged. “I know better than to listen to wild speculation. Is there really a body?”

“No, thank goodness. At this point it's a case of attempted murder. A young man who may have seen the person who killed Jason Graye was just taken to the hospital in the Fallstown ambulance.”

Boxer's frown deepened. “Who?”

Liss caught herself before she could blurt out the name. She didn't know Kent Humphrey, but it seemed likely Boxer did. The two boys were about the same age. “You'd better sit down.”

“Hey, I—”

“Sit down, Boxer.” She waited until he'd grudgingly settled himself in one of the folding chairs behind the display tables. She took the other. “The boy who was attacked is Kent Humphrey, Boxer. Do you know him?”

He started to laugh, then stared at her in disbelief. “You're kidding me, right?”

“I'm sorry. I'm not. He and his girlfriend were in the town square last night.”

“Amie—is she okay?”

“Yes. Sherri's taking care of her.” She put a hand on Boxer's shoulder and was not surprised to discover that it was shaking.

“I don't fu—I don't bleeping believe this!”

“You know, if there were ever an occasion when bad language was acceptable, I think this is it.”

He almost cracked a smile. “My grandmother would wash my mouth out with soap. But damn, Liss, if Kent really saw something, he'd already have told the cops, so what was the point of trying to kill him?”

“Maybe he didn't realize what he saw.” She wished she had more to offer, but anything she could think of to say seemed inadequate.

Whether Kent had seen anything or not, if the killer had run into him, he might have recognized Kent and decided to take no chances. And if Kent had seemed to recognize
him
?

“We double-date,” Liss's cousin said, interrupting her thoughts. “Me and Beth and Kent and Amie. Movies. A concert once. He's a good guy.”

A soft voice called Liss's name. She looked up to find Margaret Boyd standing on the other side of the display table. By the stricken expression on her face, she'd already heard the bad news.

“I could use your help,” Margaret said.

“Boxer—”

He waved her away. “I'm okay. Just give me a minute.”

Margaret sent her grandson a sympathetic look, but she had too much on her plate to do more than that. “We have to cancel the rest of the Highland Games.”

With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Liss realized she should have seen that decision coming. The police would need time to process the crime scene, which included the area surrounding the scene of the crime.

“I'll start packing up.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Margaret said. “I've been asked to gather all the vendors together inside the hotel. We can cover the merchandise and remove the cash and receipts, but everything else needs to be left as is. It will all have to be searched. I need a hand to spread the word.”

“Can you take care of the money and receipts for me?” Liss asked Boxer.

“Yeah. Sure.” But he didn't move.

“I know it's crass to fuss over the day's profits when you're worried about a friend. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. “Go. Tell the rest of the vendors.”

Margaret sent Liss off in one direction while she went in the other, taking the majority of the booths. She'd barely gotten started when the PA system, installed to announce the start of various events and reunite lost children with their parents, blared out a request for everyone to proceed to the ballroom of the hotel. She heard grumbling as well as excited chatter from those who had no idea what was going on. Piercing through those sounds were the wails of overtired children.

“Vendors, too?” Janice Eccles asked as Liss reached the scone-maker's booth.

“I'm afraid so, and the police want us to leave everything and head inside. I suppose they're searching for a weapon.”

Janice reached over and turned off her portable oven, then scooped up her cash box and tucked it under one arm. Then she paused.

Although they rarely saw each other outside of this annual gathering of the clans, Liss had known Janice Eccles for years. She could see at once that something was bothering the other woman, and that she was hesitant to speak. More than that, she was avoiding Liss's eyes.

“Is there a problem?” Liss hoped the answer would be no.

Janice looked up, but only to turn slightly, so that she was staring at the section of woods where Kent Humphrey had been attacked. “Someone said it was a teenaged boy who was killed.”

Liss didn't correct her assumption that Kent was dead. “Go on.”

“Earlier, I saw a man stroll up to a teenaged boy and talk to him. After a couple of minutes, they walked away together.”

“That's a pretty common sight. It might have nothing to do with what happened later.”

“Even if they were headed that way?” She gestured toward the trees.

“You need to tell the state police. They're in charge of catching the guy who stabbed Kent Humphrey.”

But Janice was shaking her head. “I'm probably making a mountain out of a molehill. Like you said, two people talking together at a Scottish festival is hardly unusual.”

“Can you describe them? The teenager? The man?”

“Not really. They weren't all that close.” She was getting antsy just talking to Liss. In another minute, she'd convince herself to keep mum about what she'd seen.

Liss caught her forearm. “Was the man talking to the boy young or old?”

“An older gentleman.” Janice frowned. “I'm not sure why, but at first glance I thought he must be the young man's grandfather.”

Liss's heart began to race. Was it possible? “Was the older gentleman carrying a cane?”

Janice's face lit up. “Did you see him, too?”

“No, but I may know who he is. Janice, you have to talk to the state police right away and tell them what you saw.”

When she'd seen her on her way into the hotel, Liss hurried through the task Margaret had set for her and then rushed back to the Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium booth. Seeing Martin Eldridge, if it was him, with Kent, didn't prove anything, and it certainly didn't explain why Eldridge would have killed Jason Graye, but it was all connected somehow. It had to be.

Chapter Fourteen

“W
e've got to go.” Liss collected her iPad, cash box, and calculator, slipping all three into the tote bag she'd used to transport them to the grounds that morning.

Boxer was still sitting behind the display, looking lost and miserable. “Who would
do
something like this, Liss?”

“The police will find out,” she said with more assurance than she felt.

“He rubbed his forehead, as if he was trying to force his thoughts to come together in a coherent fashion. “Was it the same person who torched the bookstore?”

She stopped in her tracks. “Why would you think that?”

“If they'd been there, they might not have made it out. What if that was an attempt to kill Beth and her mother and brother?”

Although the very thought made her ill, Liss had to admit that this was a possibility that had occurred to her, too—that one person was behind all of Moosetookalook's troubles. Martin Eldridge? He'd seemed like such a nice gentleman at first, until she had begun to suspect what he and that other man had been talking about in the town square.

She blinked rapidly as a piece that had been missing from the puzzle suddenly fell into place. That other man—he'd been in Patsy's the day she'd gotten all teary-eyed over the fact that Angie always sent her an anniversary card. He'd been in the booth behind her, perfectly able to overhear every word she said.

A crazy idea began to form as she and Boxer walked toward the hotel, part of a crowd of others obeying the command to go and be questioned. The post office had been vandalized right after that conversation. What if the arsonist
had
tried to kill Angie and her children? What if he'd still been looking for them? If he'd suspected that Angie would write to someone in Moosetookalook, would he have searched the mail in the hope of finding a return address or a postmark?

Liss felt a chill go through her. The more she thought about the stranger in the café, the more certain she became that he was the man she'd twice seen with Martin Eldridge. Eliot Underhill. Were they working together? And if Eldridge was the man Janice had seen talking to Kent, had Eldridge lured Kent into a remote area so Underhill could kill him?

“Crazy,” she muttered to herself. “Far-fetched.”

Maybe there was a link between the fire and the vandalism, but what possible connection could those two events have to Jason Graye's murder?

Silent, his expression grim, Boxer accompanied her across the lawn, around the hotel to the front entrance, and into the lobby. A uniformed state trooper had been stationed just inside the door to direct everyone up to the mezzanine level. Liss heard him assure each new arrival that they wouldn't be kept long. He was less charming to Liss when she tried to slip away from the herd.

“Hold it right there, miss.”

“I just want a quick word with my father-in-law.” Liss flashed her most ingratiating smile at him as she indicated Joe Ruskin, who had been watching the proceedings from behind the reception desk. He lifted one hand to acknowledge that he knew her.

“Make it quick,” the trooper said, and turned to give his prepared spiel to the tartan-clad members of one of the clan societies.

Despite orders to the contrary, Liss deliberately moved at a snail's pace, pretending to admire her surroundings. In keeping with the hotel's origins, the entire lobby was done up in Victorian splendor. The floors were highly polished wood, uncarpeted except for a spattering of plush area rugs to delineate cozy seating areas. A huge fireplace with an ornate marble mantel dominated one wall. At this time of year, the tile-lined hearth was filled with fragrant herbs.

“You're getting dirty looks from the cop,” Joe said when she finally reached him.

She could almost feel the heat of the officer's glare burning a hole in her back, but she kept her eyes on Dan's father. “I need a favor, Joe. You remember two of those guests I asked you about? Underhill and Eldridge? When Gordon Tandy shows up, will you tell him that I found out something important about them?”

“I'll give him the message,” Joe promised, “but whatever you think he needs to know, he's not going to be able to talk to either one. They've both checked out.”

“What? When?” Before he could answer, she added another question. “Together?”

“Maybe a half hour apart. It was after I talked to you earlier but before all hell broke loose. Sometime in midafternoon.”

Feeling shaky, Liss gripped the desk with both hands. The sudden departure of the two men struck her as extremely suspicious and seemed to lend credence to her theory. She felt sure now that one of them was guilty of both arson and murder. The other was likely his accomplice.

Had they been quarreling when she saw them? Or plotting? And—worse thought yet!—had they left the hotel after attempting to kill Kent Humphrey because they'd finally figured out where Angie was?

Liss shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was stringing suppositions together without any beading wire. Was it any wonder they kept falling to the floor and scattering?
Focus,
she ordered herself.

After taking several deep breaths, she lobbed another question at Joe. “Was either of them
planning
to leave today?”

He shook his head. “Both were booked through Monday. Eldridge said he'd had a change of plans. Underhill didn't offer any reason for taking off early. Didn't gripe about not getting a refund for tonight, either.”

“That's right. He paid cash in advance.”

Joe nodded. “He's lucky I had enough money on hand to reimburse him for Sunday night's stay. There's not much call to keep the jingly around when anybody with any sense pays with a credit or debit card.” He sent a morose look toward the stairs that led to the mezzanine. The last of the potential witnesses was just disappearing in the direction of the ballroom. “Once the police get done with their questioning, I've got a feeling there will be a lot more folks wanting to check out early.”

Liss shared his pain. The whole weekend was turning into a disaster for Moosetookalook businesses. That serious crimes like arson and murder had been committed was terrible enough, but now repercussions had begun to ripple out in an ever-widening circle. Lost revenue couldn't compare to loss of life, but that didn't make the hit any easier to take. The shops around the square, the vendors at the Highland Games, and The Spruces would all suffer. For some, barely making ends meet as it was, this might well be the straw that broke the camel's back.

The phone behind the reception desk rang, making Liss jump. She started to turn away, only to be pulled back by Joe's response when he answered.

“She's fine,” he said. “She's right here.” He offered Liss the receiver.

She was not surprised to find her husband on the other end of the line.

“What the hell is going on up there?” Dan demanded. “There's a state police cruiser blocking the entrance to the hotel. He won't let me onto the grounds.”

“I love you, Dan.”

He swore. “Now you're really scaring me.”

She clutched the phone tighter. “There's so much I want to tell you and so little time. Any minute now, another trooper is going to insist that I join everyone else in the ballroom. Someone stabbed that poor boy who was on the swings, and now everyone has to be questioned before anyone can leave. I'll be home as soon as I can. I promise.”

“I'll wait for you by the entrance.”

Hearing the stubbornness in his voice, Liss didn't argue. “Then I'll look for you there.” She handed the phone back to Joe. “He worries.”

“Sounds to me like he has cause. You're sticking your nose in, Liss. You know that's dangerous.”

“I'm not meddling. Well, only a little. And as soon as I talk to Gordon and tell him everything I suspect, then I'm out of it. The last thing I want is to come face to face with a murderer.”

“Tell
him,
” Joe suggested, indicating the state trooper heading their way.

“I need to talk to
Gordon,
” Liss insisted. No one else would take her seriously.

With a little wave for Joe, she hurried past the approaching officer and scurried up the stairs.

She spent the next two hours twiddling her thumbs in the ballroom. One person after another was called out, questioned, and sent home. Janice. Murch. Boxer. And still she waited.

Frustrating as the delay was, it did give her plenty of time to think. About a half hour in, another idea occurred to her. She turned it over in her mind, weighing the logic. Preposterous as the scenario seemed at first glance, it was possible.

Jason Graye had been a real estate agent. That meant he had lists of all the empty houses in the area—places where someone could hide out. What if the arsonist, having failed to find an address for Angie when he vandalized the post office, decided to break into Graye's house to take a look at the listings. He went during the fireworks, on the assumption that Graye would attend. Instead, he'd heard the man open his door, taken the gun from wherever it was he kept it, and fired at the intruder when he came at him with a knife.

Liss shuddered. Martin Eldridge? Or the other man, Eliot Underhill? Whichever one it had been, he'd seen Kent and Amie on the swings and been afraid Kent would be able to identify him. Was that what Eldridge and Underhill had been arguing about earlier in the day? How to deal with the threat?

Shaking her head, Liss tried to envision what had happened next. Eldridge had met with Kent. The man with the cane
had
to have been Eldridge. But from what Janice had said, it didn't sound as if Kent recognized him. Maybe he wouldn't have. It had been dark in the town square. Kent had been distracted by Amie and by the fireworks. Still, someone afraid of being arrested for murder might kill again, just to make sure there was no witness.

On the other hand, if Underhill was the killer, Eldridge could have been sent to lure Kent into the woods so Underhill could kill him.

She was beginning to get a headache. She had no proof of anything, just speculation. But what if she was right? If she was, and if Angie was the killer's original target, then a murderer was still looking for her and her children.

Angie Hogencamp wasn't her real name. Sherri thought she'd changed it when she came to Moosetookalook. That had to be the key—someone from her past was after her, and he didn't care who got hurt so long as he found her.

She looked up to discover that she was the last “witness” left. One by one, everyone else had been called into one of the smaller rooms for questioning. Another five minutes passed. Then Gordon opened the door to the ballroom. For a long moment, he just looked in at her, an enigmatic expression on his face. Then he stepped inside. “You can go now, Liss.”

“Just like that? No questions?” The long wait had frayed both her nerves and her temper. She propelled herself out of the chair. Grabbing her tote, she stalked toward him.

“I've already verified that you were nowhere near the scene of the crime.”

“That doesn't mean I didn't see anything. If you talked to Jake Murch—he would be my alibi, I presume—then you know that we are suspicious of two guests at the hotel. And then Janice Eccles—”

“Yes, I talked to her, too.”

“So you know that Martin Eldridge fits the description of the man she saw with Kent.”

He nodded. “We're checking into it.”

“I'm sure you are, but you'd better make it a priority.” By now they were nose to nose, so close that Liss could pick out the golden flecks in Gordon's dark brown eyes. “There's more you don't know.”

“Of course there is.”

With an effort, she managed not to yell at him. She kept her voice level and not too much louder than usual. “Take out that notebook of yours, Gordon. Like it or not, you're going to listen while I tell you everything I've deduced.”

He might have smiled—just a tiny twitch of the lips that caused her to narrow her eyes—but he complied. Gesturing for her to sit down again, he took the chair next to her and held his pencil poised. “Go ahead.”

Her theories burst out of her, the words tumbling together until she was breathless. Gordon dutifully wrote everything down, but she could tell he was not convinced.

“You do have a talent for coming up with far-fetched explanations,” he said when she finally wound down.

“Some of them have turned out to be right.”

“Yes, they have. Which is why we'll check into all these possibilities and talk to Eldridge and Underhill, even though apparently they both left the grounds well before Kent Humphrey was stabbed.”

“There are ways to get back onto the property and away again without using the main entrance. You know that, Gordon.”

There was a path from the road through the woods—town property—that adjoined the hotel grounds on the east. There were probably other ways in as well. It wasn't as if The Spruces was trying to keep people out. Now that she thought about it, Liss was surprised Dan hadn't taken an alternate route, rushing in to reassure himself that she was okay.

“Think what you're saying, Liss. How would a stranger to the area know—?”

“Those two strangers have been here for over a week. They've had plenty of time to explore.”

“From what I understand, Eldridge is a senior citizen who uses a cane. He hardly seems the type to go traipsing along rough woodland paths.”

“He's spry for his age. I noticed the first time I met him that he didn't really need the cane. It seemed to be an affectation, not a necessity.”