Scots on the Rocks

though the police had made it their own with computers, phones, and file folders. A map of the vicinity hung above the fireplace. Judging from the pushpins and red X’s on the beach and at Grimloch Castle, it wasn’t there for the convenience of visitors, but to show the crime scenes and other pertinent locations.

“Ogilvie’s searching with the constables,” MacRae said, sitting at the desk. “What is it you have to tell me?”

Judith and Renie had also sat down. “It’s about some emails we found in the jewel case.” Briefly, Judith summed up the contents, forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand, rather than fretting about Joe and Bill. “At first I thought the exchanges were between Moira and Patrick. But it occurred to me just now when we came in that those emails aren’t as recent as I’d assumed.”

Renie stared at Judith. “It did? Why didn’t you say so?”

Judith looked faintly sheepish. “It was the dried heather by the desk.” She turned back to MacRae. “One of the messages mentioned the last heather of the season. I grow the plant in my garden at home, and heather doesn’t bloom past September. There was also something about going to bed early and the sun setting. That sounds more like late summer or early fall than this time of year.”

MacRae looked impressed; Renie seemed annoyed. “Do go on,” the detective urged.

“That means,” Judith explained, “they were written months ago, probably in September, before David Piazza died. Those emails were intended to sound as if Davey and Moira were the ones having the affair and possibly plotting to get rid of Harry. Whoever wrote them probably showed the emails to Harry in order to incite him to violence.”

“Fascinating.” MacRae smiled in approval, cleared his throat, and folded his hands on the desk. “Please don’t take this as criticism. I realize you have your own methods when you’re on the job.”

“I…” Judith started to ask if there might be confusion about what the “job” really was, but thought better of it. This wasn’t the time to get sidetracked. “The emails were mistakenly put into my purse by Moira’s maid, Elise. They were meant for Beth Fordyce, not me. I think Moira wanted Beth to see them and perhaps get rid of them for her. If you ask Will Fleming, I think you’ll learn that he found them and brought them to Grimloch. The case they were in ended up at Hollywood House in my purse. I have no idea who later took it out of my room.” She paused and put Davey’s jacket on the desk. “There’s one more important thing,” Judith said, and offered her theory about the pub receipt.

“My word!” MacRae exclaimed softly. “You are the goods, Mrs. Flynn! I’ll review MacGowan’s notes on the accident. Are you returning to Grimloch?”

“Yes,” Judith said, getting up. “Gibbs is waiting for us. Unless we can help find Joe and Bill. Doing nothing will drive us crazy.”

MacRae thought for a moment. “Really, I don’t see how you can help. I’ve requested extra personnel to expand the search. I’ll keep in close touch, of course.”

“I understand,” Judith said as she and Renie were escorted from the study by MacRae. “I can’t believe all three were abducted.”

“Very puzzling,” MacRae admitted.

MacRae escorted the cousins outside. The Morris saloon was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Gibbs?” Renie asked, looking in every direction.

“Perhaps,” MacRae suggested, “he was called away.”

“I don’t think he has a cell phone,” Judith said.

A horn honk caught their attention. “Need a lift?” Barry shouted.

“We do,” Renie said. “We’ve been stranded by Gibbs.”

“Come on,” Barry said from where he’d stopped in the middle of the road. “Where to?”

“Grimloch,” Judith replied, “but if Gibbs went there without us, the skiff’s on the other side. We’ll be stuck on the beach.”

“Let’s look,” Barry said, making a wide U-turn in the middle of the road and almost running down MacRae, who was still standing in front of the inn. “Whew! Good thing I missed him.”

Judith braced herself on the dashboard. “You might be a little more careful,” she advised. “The rain is coming down harder and the roads are slick.”

“Aye,” Barry said blithely. “Sorry I couldn’t fetch you earlier. Mrs. Gunn ordered four pizzas, and it takes a bit to go to her place and back. Family doings, maybe,” Barry said.

“It’s early for dinner,” Judith pointed out.

“Mrs. Gunn’s different from other folk,” Barry said.

“Yes.” Judith made no further comment, but she wondered if Kate had called some kind of emergency meeting. Maybe, she thought, the reason was related to Kate’s abrupt departure from the Rood & Mitre.

The High Street was almost deserted on this stormy late afternoon. Barry shot through the coast road intersection; the car rumbled down to the beach where the skiff was tied up at the edge of the paved area.

“Guess Gibbs went on a lark,” Barry said. “Want me to row?”

“Well…you’ll have to,” Judith said. “We owe you two jackets.”

Barry helped the cousins get into the skiff. “What about The Bruce?” Renie asked. “Doesn’t he like boats?”

“He gets seasick,” Barry said as he plied the oars.

Five minutes later, the cousins were inside the castle. “I wonder where Gibbs went,” Judith said as they trudged up the stone stairs to their rooms. “I hope nothing’s happened to him.”

“Why should he be spared?” Renie snapped. “A lot of us are in danger.” She stopped at the top of the stairs.