Page 45 of Death on a Scottish Train

As soon as the boat moved forward, Tommy cupped his hand over his eyes as he peered out to sea. I had a feeling he was already looking for the mysterious creatures.

While I wasn’t the type to believe in fairies, it was fun to watch Tommy and the others as they pointed out various sea life.

“Seals,” he whispered to his sister as he pointed toward the bow of the boat.

“It tis.” She grinned at him.

The creatures swam along with the boat as if guiding us along the way.

“Some of our fair isles are the home of witches as well,” Isobel said. “Kind-hearted souls, who would only wish you the best life has to offer—unless you try to double-cross them. The last person you want to anger is a Scottish witch. They are powerful and always get their way.” Her charming brogue made her stories come alive.

She went on to tell the tale of “The Witch of Fife,” about a man with a witch for a wife. He wanted to find out what she did when she was away for many days. He followed her one night and discovered that perhaps he didn’t want to know the truth when he was nearly burned by magic. After that, he left his wife to her own devices.

The stories continued as we neared an island, the overcast skies made it seem much darker than usual. On the island, there were flicks of light, like fireflies dancing through the trees.

“Speak softly, lest we scare the wee folk away as they work to bring fruits and berries home to their kin,” Isobel whispered.

Tommy leaned over the boat trying his best to see the lights on the island. Abigail put a hand on his belt to keep him from tumbling over.

The lights flickered and seemed to move quickly. It was a trick of the eyes, but it was easy to imagine they might be fairies flitting in and out of the forests on the islands. I had some research to do when I arrived home, as I was curious if they were really fireflies. I didn’t know if Scotland even had them. But there were definitely lights zooming in and out of the trees.

I didn’t want to break the spell everyone seemed to be under by asking such a rudimentary question. A few minutes later we circled another island, where seals had settled in for the evening on the beach.

“It takes a trained eye to see fairy folk in their true forms,” Isobel said. “If you squint just right, you might be treated to a glimpse, though they are smart and know we are looking. So dinnae feel bad if you only see the seals.”

Isobel’s stories were wonderful and fun, she had a couple for each island we circled in the boat. On the way back she offered us warm cups of apple cider. While I considered it a drink for fall, I didn’t complain. Out on the water it was colder than it had been on shore.

“Made by mum for these chilly nights,” she said. “It will warm you from the inside out. It’s said the apples will bring the people you need into your life.”

She wasn’t wrong about it warming me from the inside out, and the beverage was just the right amount of tart and sweet. I could have had a gallon of it without blinking an eye.

While we traveled back, Isobel continued to share folk tales about the islands we passed. She was a gifted storyteller. Then something that had been niggling at my brain came to the forefront. The name, Gillispie. I’d seen it on one of the files when we’d been in Donald Jacks’s home.

I climbed the steps up to where the captain stood at the helm.

“This has been a wonderful experience,” I said.

He smiled and nodded. “My Isobel is talented with the stories. I think she should be an actress, but she loves the sea like her Da.”

I grinned. “Well, your passion for it shows. You two have made this really fun.”

“Glad you are enjoying it.”

“I have a strange question for you, and I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward.”

“I’m happily married, Doc. You’ve met my wife, Cecile.”

We laughed.

“I have. She’s lovely. This has more to do with my job of investigating deaths.”

He frowned. “That sounds serious. Tell me how I can help?”

There was a noise, and I glanced back to see Ewan on the steps leading up to where we stood. I was certain he stopped to listen.

“Right. When we were searching Donald Jacks’s home, I remember seeing your name on one of the files.”

He frowned and shook his head. “Aye, he was our accountant. Emphasis on was.”