Page 73 of Death at a Scottish Halloween

Jasper and I headed out.

Henry had his knee on the back of the guy with the mask.

“You broke me arm,” the voice was familiar and British. But it sounded like the man who had come after me in the maze. Though it wasn’t as menacing or growling like it had been in the dark.

“You should have stopped when I called out,” Ewan said.

Henry started reading the man his rights, as Ewan reached down and pulled off the Dracula mask.

I may have gasped—I just know they all looked at me.

“He’s a teen,” I said surprised. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, though he was tall. How had I not picked up on that earlier?

“My arm,” he groaned.

“Henry, I think you should forget the cuffs. We need to bring him down to my office.”

Ewan held out the mask. “Are you sure?”

“I am. He needs to be treated.”

“What’s your name?” Ewan asked.

“No comment,” the kid said hatefully. It appeared he’d been in this sort of predicament before or had learned it off television or gaming.

“Right. Henry?” Ewan asked.

Henry patted the kid down and pulled out his wallet.

“Asher Henderson,” Henry said. He helped the kid up. “Come on,” he said. “While the doc looks at your arm, I’ll call your parents.”

The kid’s eyes went big. He shook his head vehemently. “My dad will have me ar—” he glanced at me. “He’ll be mad.”

“As he should be,” Ewan said.

“OK, we can handle all that after I treat his arm. I need to see if it’s really broken or out of joint.”

Even in the dark, the kid’s pallor was noticeable.

“Put him in my car, I’ll take him down. You make sure the families get home safely.”

“On it, Constable.”

Now to find out why this kid had tried to scare the pants off me.

Chapter Nineteen

Jasper and I rode with Ewan down to my office. I texted Abigail and told her I could use her help. She and Tommy had most likely snuck out before the rest of the crowds. I hated to bother her, but she would be upset if I didn’t, and I needed scans of the kid’s arm.

She texted that she was already there. Tommy had forgotten his handheld game in my kitchen. She would have everything ready when we arrived.

The kid sat sullenly in the back with Jasper, holding his arm. It was most likely broken from the position of the ulna, but I wouldn’t know for certain until he took off his shirt.

By the time we made it down the mountain, he was several shades whiter. There were a man and a woman waiting for us outside my office.

The woman wagged a finger at him. “What did you do this time?” She too was British, and very angry. “I can’t believe the police are calling us again.”

The man next to her, patted her shoulder. “Give him a chance, luv.” He was Scottish and had a heavy brogue.