Page 16 of Death at a Scottish Halloween

The man?

“I feel so bad for upsetting them, but he isn’t my Duncan. Thank the heavens.”

What? I did not see that coming.

“You’re saying the gentleman in room four isn’t your husband.” Ewan tried to clarify.

“Right. I didn’t even think there might be someone with the same name. I mean, it must have been a coincidence that this was the last place his phone was turned on. I’m talking about my Duncan. He’s always misplacing the thing. I’m so sorry. I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” I said. “You had every right to be upset given the circumstances.”

“I should go,” she said. “Though, Constable, I wonder if maybe you could help me. I asked the police at home, but they said he had to be gone for more than forty-eight hours. They wouldn’t take me seriously. But it really isn’t like him to go for this long. At the very least, he likes to talk to Elsie before bed.” She took her cell from the pocket of her cardigan. “This is my Duncan.”

The picture was of the three of them. This Duncan was bald and several inches shorter than the man in my exam room.

“Why don’t I take you and Elsie down to the pub, and we’ll discuss it,” Ewan said.

She sighed. “Thank you, for your kindness.” She patted my hand. “I can’t believe I might be pregnant again. I didn’t even—it’s been a very strange day. I need to find my husband, though.”

I gave Ewan the eye. “I’m going to check on Abigail and your daughter.” He shut the door behind him.

“Before you go, I’d like to check out your levels, and we can run a test. If you are pregnant, we can get you started on some prenatal vitamins.”

“I have a doctor,” she said.

I held up my hands. “I understand. But I’d feel better if we make sure it was just the shock and not something else going on. Like your blood sugar. It’s some simple blood tests, and you can be on your way. We will mostly likely have answers for you by the time you finish your meal at the pub. Besides, don’t you want to know?’

She smiled. “I do. Thank you. I’m so sorry for the way I acted before. Truly.”

“Don’t worry about it. Really. You stay there. I’ll be right back.”

By the time we’d drawn blood, the others had left. Ewan had explained the mix-up to them. I couldn’t imagine what they might be thinking. That episode had to be so upsetting.

While we ran the labs, Ewan took Flora and Elsie down to the pub.

“That was strange,” Abigail said. “Two men with the same name in the same town. I mean, we aren’t like Edinburgh or Glasgow.”

“It’s weird—and that she would show up today. But it makes me wonder about something.”

“What do you mean?”

“What if our Duncan was killed mistakenly? I mean he had full on makeup. What if whoever killed him was after Flora’s husband?”

“But why? He’s an antiques dealer.”

“Right, but we don’t really know anything about him. The fact that he fell off the map makes me wonder if maybe he had some sort of side gig. Maybe he’s on the run? I mean, why else would he ignore his wife and child?”

“You really should write books. You’re great at coming up with scenarios.”

I laughed. “Or it could be as simple as he fell off the wagon. I hope he’s just lost his phone.”

“Me too. The tests are positive. She’s going to need support.”

“Yes, she is.”

Still, I couldn’t get it out of my head. The what ifs were driving me crazy.

Had someone killed the wrong Duncan Craig?