Page 67 of Death on a Scottish Train

“Abigail is always thorough, if she found something suspicious, she would have told us.”

“True, but we were moving quickly that night. It’s possible she didn’t think it was that important.”

Henry was the first one through the door. “Evening, Doc. Sorry about this.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He carried a large kit that they used for evidence gathering. More of Ewan’s officers followed not long after.

“I need you to make me a copy of the security tape, and we’ll go over it again. Oh, and let’s check the autopsy door cam.”

I clicked on the separate file. The light was a bit better back there because I’d left the kitchen lamp on. The person was smart enough to keep their head down, though. And they wore gloves. If we could see the hands, it would have helped. It seemed like the hands were larger and perhaps male. But it was impossible to tell.

There was a moment when the burglar turned their head and a short bit of black hair shone under their cap.

“Who have we been talking to that has dark hair?” I paused the video to show Ewan.

His eyebrows rose. “The partner,” he said.

I nodded. “But why? He isn’t even a suspect, right? He had an alibi.”

“True. The killer could have hired someone, though. If it is him, he could be trying to clean up a mess left by someone else. It is within the realm of possibility.”

“True.”

“But it is also a reach. There are many people with dark hair in Sea Isle. Let us get on with things,” he said. “Why don’t you go up to your room and get some rest.”

“Ewan, someone just broke into my home and business. I will not be able to go to sleep.”

He crossed his arms and stared down at me. He had that please-do-what-I-ask-just-this-once look on his face.

“But I will stay out of your team’s way while you do your job.”

“Thank you.”

I picked up my purse off the desk and went into my living room where I dumped it on the side table.

More than anything, I wanted to make my way into the autopsy room to go through the evidence bags, but with the security panel broken and part of the crime scene, it would have to wait.

I flipped on the television and put on an episode ofAgatha RaisinI’d seen many times. I loved the M.C. Beaton books, and the television show they had adapted from them. It was what Mara called murder-lite and comfort television. Quaint English village with a great group of friends, who solved crimes together.

Yes, it was familiar.

At some point, I must have dozed off. Funny, since my home was full of officers, but it had been a long day.

When I woke, the room was dark, and the television was off. Someone had covered me in a blanket, but I’d fallen asleep in a weird position and my shoulder was killing me.

I sat up to find Ewan asleep on the other end of the couch. He hadn’t wanted to leave me alone. Even though we often disagreed, he was very protective of me. I appreciated that he cared enough to know that I was unsettled by the break-in.

I checked my watch to see that it was six, which was about an hour earlier than I usually woke up.

After a quick shower, and a change of clothes, I headed back downstairs. The sofa Ewan had been on was empty, but the scent of coffee wafted in from the kitchen.

I found him at the coffee maker waiting patiently for it to brew.

“Mornin’,” he said.

“Thank you for staying over. You didn’t have to do that.”