Page 40 of Death on a Scottish Train

“Hi,” I whispered. “Did I miss anything?”

He shook his head. “We’re just getting started.”

Sarah Billingsley, who was also head of the train committee, called the meeting to order. She had her fingers in everything and could be a bit heavy-handed with opinions, but she was one of those people who made sure things were done. The world needed women like her to keep us all going.

Part of that was her forceful nature. The other part was her type-A personality. In her mind, there was no room for failure, which was why her blood pressure sometimes ran a bit high.

“Thank you for giving up your Saturday evening to help us,” she said. “I called this meeting to make certain we have everything set for our week of fun.”

She handed out small, collated binders. “Thanks to Mara, we have a comprehensive list of each event, with the volunteers and times of everything.”

With the exception of Abigail, I’d never met anyone more organized than Mara.

They went through the larger scheduled events. Everyone agreed to take on their part of the bigger plan. This was a team of efficient organizers. I was just along to help out however I could.

“First night, we have our fairy boat rides starting at four and going until nine,” Sarah said. “The volunteer boats have been decorated, and we have designees to be the lore tellers. Everyone will be following thesame script, so visitors do not feel they are missing out if they are on a different boat from their friends.”

When I’d done my research, I discovered Scotland has as much fairy lore as Ireland. Though, I noticed many of the tales I’d read that were set in Scotland happened to be much darker in nature.

Sarah went on for several minutes about the various days of the festival. “Does anyone have any questions?”

I did, but I was too embarrassed to ask. I would wait until they were all gone and ask Mara.

“While I have you here, I have a few questions about the night Mr. Jacks died,” Ewan said.

Most of the people around the table grimaced, and a few of them shivered.

“ACC, this isn’t the place. Besides, we’ve spoken to your men,” Sarah said.

“Aye, you have,” Ewan said. “I was wondering if perhaps something had jogged your memory. Maybe you saw Mr. Jacks going into the office at the train station. We are still trying to find witnesses who may have seen if someone entered the room with him.”

“Are the rumors true?” Sarah asked.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Ewan said.

“That he was possibly murdered,” she said. “There wouldn’t be such an intense inquiry if he had died of natural causes. And Anne Marie’s husband, Jed, says he saw Mr. Jacks’s face, which looked like someone had beat him up. I hate to think of that sort of crime happening in our town.”

“Tis best if we do not listen to rumor, as it can distort the actual facts,” Ewan said. He was much better than I was at keeping things close to the vest.

“Did any of you see him go into the office the night of the event?” I asked, trying help Ewan bring the inquiry back to his original question.

Everyone shook their heads.

Mara pursed her lips. “I’ve already told you that I remember checking him off the list. At the time, he seemed fine. But I do remember hislips appearing plumper than usual. Almost in a way that I thought he’d gotten lip filler or something. I remember now, because I thought it was strange for him to do that. I mean, plenty of women do it, but maybe I’m being sexist.”

“So, when he checked in, you noticed swelling?”

She nodded.

I glanced at Ewan. We both understood what that meant. The reaction had already begun before he’d even arrived.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier, but did he have a plus one?” I asked.

“He didn’t arrive with anyone else,” Mara said. “I can go check the paperwork to see if someone else was his plus one, though. It’s possible they arrived later since the storytellers had to be there early.”

“I can’t imagine he would have had a date,” Sarah said.

All heads swung her way.