• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Who?” I asked thinking she meant Douglas.

Immediately I realized that was ridiculous. Douglas was a pub owner—he spoke to everyone. Another thought hit me and I reeled beneath it. Could she be referring to Casper? But what would he be doing messing around the cairn? Exasperated I asked, “Who on earth are you talking about?”

“That bloody man up there.” She pointed to the sky. She was talking about Casper. How could he be involved in this?

But Jenny’s next words made me realize she wasn’t talking about Casper at all.

“I’m talking about him,” she said, pointing again. This time I realized she wasn’t pointing at the sky but up the road to Maitland House. “I’m talking about Sir Alastair.”

I stared at her in disbelief. Much as I disliked Sir Alastair, I didn’t believe he’d have any business with an unquiet shade like Leith.

“You must be mistaken,” I said. “Why would Sir Alastair—?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “But tell him to keep away. Leith is angry. He doesn’t like the land near his cairn being dug up.”

I grabbed her shoulders. “What did you say?”

“Sir Alastair has been digging in the land near the cairn. Not close enough to allow Leith to take his heart, more’s the pity, but close enough to be a nuisance. If Sir Alastair is looking for buried treasure you can tell him there isn’t any. That myth was debunked years ago.”

But I knew Sir Alastair wasn’t looking for buried treasure. Unable to keep my joy to myself, I hugged Jenny and danced her around on the spot.

“What’re you doing?” she gasped.

“Thanking you,” I said. “I know exactly what Sir Alastair was doing at Leith’s Cairn. He wasn’t digging anything up. He was burying something. I promise I’ll remove it. By tomorrow morning it’ll be gone.”

“Well, thank you.” Clearly she was taken aback by my response, but slowly her voice grew in confidence. “Thanks for your help. Drop by next time you’re in Beag Glen.” She got into her car and drove away.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I punched the air like Rocky on speed. It must’ve looked really lame. But it’s hard not to celebrate when you’ve solved a case. Okay, this time I solved it through a bit of luck—well, maybe a lot of luck—but it was solved and that’s all that mattered.

From now on it would be smooth sailing. I just had one last decision to make. Should I dig up Justina’s skin and take it to Maitland house? Or should I go immediately to Maitland House, collect Justina and take her with me to dig up the skin?

It would be quicker to get the skin by myself, but I couldn’t risk Justina committing suicide before I got back. I decided to go to Maitland House first. That way nothing could go wrong.

* * *

I went to the clearing. I didn’t really expect Justina to be there but I hadn’t expected Jenny Clark to lead me to the skin, either, so it was worth a try.

The clearing was deserted so I hurried through the wood until I approached Maitland House from the back. There were lights on in the first floor windows but I couldn’t see a silhouette that might have belonged to Justina. That ruled out throwing pebbles at her window. I’d have to take a more conventional approach and knock on the front door.

Sir Alastair wouldn’t be happy to see me, but when had I ever cared what he thought? I jogged around to the front of Maitland House and took the steps two at a time. Stopping outside the massive front door, I rang the bell.

Chimes sounded inside. I waited for the door to open but it remained firmly closed. Maybe it was Phillips’s night off. I pressed again. At exactly the same moment, the door swung open.

Phillips gave me a look that said, You Americans are so impatient. But he maintained enough courtesy to wish me a good evening.

I didn’t bother to reciprocate. I cut right to the chase.

“I want to speak with Justina. Now.”

“She’s not available, madam.” Once again he made “madam” sound like an insult. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow.” He began to shut the door.

I was tempted to insert my foot between the door and jamb but something about Phillips’s