Page 57 of Death on a Scottish Train

“In what way?”

“When we were going over my taxes last year, I made a joke. I said, well, that leaves me just enough to buy my nephew a new train set for his birthday.”

“For the next hour he went off about trains, and what I should buy him. It was the longest conversation, though one-sided, that we’d ever had. He wasn’t what you would call a conversationalist, until we started talking about trains.”

That didn’t surprise me since trains had been his passion.

“Did he ever try to get you involved in one of his financial schemes?”

Again, he shook his head. “I barely keep my head above water with my jewelry business. By the time I pay travel expenses to various fetes, I break even but that works for me. I dinnae need much, and I get to do what I love. So, he probably wouldn’t have asked. I never have much extra, and what I do have I put into a very safe retirement account.”

His face seemed familiar to me. “Were you at the opening of the Storyteller’s train?”

“Aye, I was. That’s where I met Jasper. I was gobbling up his macarons. They were heavenly.”

I glanced at my friend, who blushed.

“Right? I’ve gained a good five pounds since I met him.” That wasn’t a joke, but we laughed.

“Do you remember seeing Mr. Jacks that night? Maybe, before we boarded?”

His face scrunched up as if he were thinking. “Was he dressed in an old-timey detective outfit in a trench and fedora?”

I nodded.

“Then yes, I saw him across the room. I think he was talking to one of the waitstaff handing out champagne. I can’t recall the other person’s face, though.”

That was the second time someone had mentioned someone in the servers’ uniforms.

“Did you notice anything else?”

“When he turned, his face was very red. I remember that. I couldn’t imagine what had made him so angry. He always seemed a bit drab and unemotional when we spoke. He dinnae get excited about anything besides trains.”

So, he had been arguing with whoever had been in that uniform.

There had been a photographer there that night. I wondered if he had perhaps taken pictures that might help us identify who had been wearing that outfit.

It seemed unlikely the normally even-tempered accountant would get angry at a waiter over a glass of champagne.

I made my purchases and thanked Malcolm.

“Thank you so much.” He handed me a card and then smiled as he gave one to Jasper. “Feel free to call if you need anything.”

I grinned at Jasper, who had turned red again. It was sweet that he had a new crush.

Like me, he’d had his heart broken. He had come to Sea Isle to heal and open his pâtisserie. I didn’t know the guy who broke his heart, but I was grateful that Jasper had chosen to come back to the town where he grew up. He’d become one of my dearest friends.

As we walked away, he had a silly grin on his face.

“Are you going to call him?”

His eyes went wide. He waved a hand. “No. I’m not ready for anything like that.”

I didn’t push. I couldn’t blame him. I was still nursing a broken heart myself. My husband had been living a double life, which was something I only discovered the day he died.

Trusting again had been difficult. Though, my friends here had helped. As had Ewan. But I would never tell him that. He was a good man and looked out for his town.

We’d been spending more time together. Well, as a group. When he came over to watch our shows with us, though, I’d never been the one to invite him. Mara had. She also always included him if we went out together.