Page 8 of Death at a Scottish Halloween

“What?”

“The music was still playing. It was spooky with the occasional wailing or scream. If we had heard something, we might have thought it was the soundtrack. It wasn’t turned off until right before Mara called me. But how could it be someone who came through the haunted house? They would have had to wait until they thought everyone was gone.”

“There are all kinds of storage rooms and closets,” he said. “My team says there are no fewer than ten spaces someone could have hidden. And you don’t remember what happened to the knife? That fake body was close to the front of your display. It could have been the perpetrator saw the knife and decided to take advantage of an opportunity. You may have been busy scaring the patrons and didn’t notice someone take it.”

“At first, I thought it might be someone working there, but you’re right. We could have been busy entertaining the crowds. There were times when we had people stuffed into the space. I should have paid more attention.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

I sighed. “I know that in theory. I like to think, since knowing, and learning from you, that I’m a bit more observant than I was when I arrived in Sea Isle. That, and I’ve been studying investigative procedures for more than a year now.”

Even though I had no idea when I arrived that I’d be the ME, and sometimes detective solving crimes, I’d learned to enjoy this side of my life. Though solving real-life puzzles often had dire consequences. That is something I’d learned while being head of the ER and making life and death decisions many times a day.

It was different investigating crimes and deaths, but no less stressful.

The lights were on at home, which meant Abigail was most likely still there.

“Will you do the autopsy tonight? It’s late,” Ewan asked, as I used the keypad to open the front door.

“I’m going to check on Abigail’s progress. But I’ll probably wait until morning. The adrenaline of the past few hours is fading fast, and I want to be clear-headed.”

“That’s sensible.” The way he said it seemed like he was surprised by my logic. I’d had bodies and evidence go missing before I could start autopsies, and I used to do them right away no matter the hour. But since then, we’d added many security protocols to the house and the autopsy room. I felt safe leaving things until the morning.

He followed me inside.

Abigail was at her desk in reception, typing something into the computer.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m logging all the evidence that we have so far. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to proceed tonight. I’ve taken samples off the clothing, nails, and body. And I went ahead and started running toxicology tests.”

“Thank you for being you,” I said.

She grinned.

“Did you want to do the autopsy tonight?”

“I was just telling Ewan, I’m tired. I’ll do it in the morning. You don’t have to be here, either of you. I can handle it on my own.”

Abigail shrugged. “Of course, I’ll help. I promised Tommy he could finish winterizing the garden this weekend. So I’ll be here anyway.”

“OK. But get some rest. Between working here, your education courses, and the haunted house, I don’t want you getting rundown.”

She smirked.

I waved a hand. “Right. I forget. You are superwoman.”

We all laughed.

“I’ll run Abigail up to hers on my way to the station. I want to see what the team has so far.”

I nodded.

A few minutes later, they left.

I went to the autopsy lab to double-check the body was there. Everything was ready for tomorrow morning. I never doubted Abigail, I just had to see things for myself.

I turned out the lights and double-checked the locks on the back and front doors. Then I went upstairs to my bedroom. When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I jumped. I still had blood on my face and the white makeup we’d used.

Great. I’d gone to the pub like this. Why didn’t Ewan say something?