Page 34 of Death on a Scottish Train

“Oh,” she said.

“Would you like a moment alone with him?”

She shook her head. “No. I just needed to see for myself that it was actually him.”

I pulled the sheet back over his face. Then I followed her out the door and shut it.

“When was the last time you saw your brother before today?”

She stood in my kitchen looking anxious to leave. “I don’t understand why that would matter.”

“We are trying to find out if anyone might have heard or seen something before he died.” I prayed Ewan wouldn’t kill me for spilling the tea as Mara liked to say.

Her shoulders stiffened. “Are you saying he was murdered?”

Yes. But I wouldn’t admit it out loud. “I can only say we found something that looks suspicious. When was the last time you spoke to him, and are you aware of his daily life?”

She sighed, and then twisted her hands together. It was the first bit of emotion she’d shown.

“I wasn’t in touch with him. We hadn’t spoken in nearly a year.”

“Why was that?”

She bristled. “I do not see how it is any of your business.”

I ignored her tone. “Did you have a falling out?”

“You could say that,” she said. Then she headed for the front door. “Whatever happened between me and Donald has nothing to do with your investigation.”

From her tone and anger, I wasn’t so sure about that.

Chapter Nine

“Wait,” I called out to Kaitlyn Jacks as she opened the front door of my practice. “I have a few more questions about your brother, Donald.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “I have no answers,” she said. “I need to sort my brother’s affairs.”

“I understand that, but his home is considered a crime scene at the moment. You most likely won’t be able to go through his things for a couple of days.”

She shut the door. “I do not have time for that,” she said. “Why would it be a crime scene?”

Well, you stepped in that one, Em.

“Your brother’s death was suspicious. Even if you weren’t in contact, you might be able to help us with the investigation. Please, sit down. I promise it will only take a few minutes. Then we can find you a place to stay until your brother’s death is sorted.”

She sighed and shut the door. Then she took a seat in the waiting room. I grabbed my notebook out of my purse and a pen. Then I sat across from her.

“Is it normal for a doctor to be doing these interviews?”

“We do things differently here in Sea Isle, and I help the police directly with investigations into deaths.”

“OK. What is it you want to know?” she asked.

“Has your brother always had an interest in trains?” I thought starting out with something a bit more mundane might help.

“That’s an odd question.”

“Well, he was part of our new Storyteller’s Train, and I noticed he had an elaborate set up in his home.”