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“Who found him?”

“Hamish.”

“We have to get a photo of the body,” I said, jumping out of bed. I saw Douglas staring at my granny-nightie. I stared back. “What?”

“Nothing.” A smile curled around his lips. I guess he had imagined my night attire differently.

“Give me a minute to get dressed,” I said.

“I’ll see you downstairs.”

When Douglas had gone, I whispered, “Casper.” No answer. I swept my eyes around the empty room. “Are you there?” Still no answer. Apparently the news of Malcolm’s death hadn’t reached Cloud 9 yet.

Quickly I pulled on jeans and a sweater. After tying my bootlaces, I grabbed my jacket and went downstairs. Hamish was sitting in the kitchen, a cup cradled between his hands. He looked much the same as he had after discovering McEwen’s body.

“What time did you find Malcolm’s body?” I asked him.

“About an hour ago, I think.”

“And what—?”

“Allegra, we don’t have time for questions.” Douglas hovered near the door, camera in hand. He grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the kitchen. I could easily have twisted my arm out of his grasp but I allowed myself to be ushered outside to my car. He was right about time being short.

On the way to the rose, I said, “It’s a bit of a coincidence, Hamish finding both bodies.”

“Not really,” said Douglas. “He goes for a walk along the loch every morning. Has done for years.”

So much for my theory that Hamish might know more than he was telling. I took out my frustration on the accelerator and we reached the track in double quick time.

As we hurried toward the loch, I smelled the damp, muddy scent of the shore. There was another smell too, strong and unmistakable. Fish.

With a sinking heart I continued down the track until I had a clear view of the rose. Just as I had expected, Malcolm’s body was no longer there.

Squelching closer, I toed the pile of fish out of the way and examined the ground where Malcolm had apparently lain. There was no evidence of a body. Nothing to tie this place to Malcolm at all.

I swore and stared at the dead fish. They had obviously come from the loch, but what did they mean? That a fisherman had killed Malcolm? That McEwen and Malcolm had violated someone’s fishing rights? But how did that tie in with the Dedfield Rose?

I turned to Douglas. He was staring intently at the fish as though willpower might be enough to bring back Malcolm’s body.

I said, “It’s okay. I can solve this case without a body.”

Hoping I wouldn’t live to regret those words, I headed back to the car. Douglas got in beside me.

We had almost reached the village when I said, more to myself than Douglas, “It’s time I took a closer look at the loch.”

Douglas was eager to help. “One of the fishing boats could take you out.”

“In a rowboat I’d be closer to the surface,” I said. “I think I’ll hire one from Jason.”

“Right now?” asked Douglas.

“Tonight would be better.”

Immediately he looked worried. “It’s dangerous at night. Especially if you’re unfamiliar with the currents.”

I didn’t argue with him. He was right about it being dangerous, although I didn’t think the currents would be my main problem. But I had no choice. I had to investigate anything that might be paranormal activity, and if that activity was happening at night and on the loch, so be it.

“I won’t take unnecessary chances,” I promised as I parked outside Mac’s.

He started to tell me I shouldn’t go out on the loch at all, but I wasn’t listening. There would be time to debate the pros and cons later. Right now my stomach was rumbling.

It was way past time for breakfast. I can always eat, even after viewing the scene of a probable murder. As we made our way to the kitchen, I hoped Bess would prepare one of her hearty meals for us.

My hopes were dashed when I saw Anne MacDuff sitting at the table beside Hamish. She was as pale as he was.

Bess said, “Anne wants to talk to you.”

I took Anne onto the terrace. I barely had time to sit down before she grabbed my hands.

“You have to save Stuart,” she said. “I cannae live without him.”

She couldn’t live without a man she had described as