Page 92 of Death on a Scottish Train

“Did something happen?” I asked. “And have you heard about Mrs. Burns? Is she OK?”

“Aye, she was released from the hospital this morning. She’s doing well,” his mother said. “I had my assistant contact the husband. Thank you again for looking after her. We are lucky you were here.”

“It was no problem,” I said. “I was curious how you knew them.”

I glanced at Ewan, and his eyebrows went up.

“Oh, she’s lovely and sits on several of my committees. She’s a hard worker. I dinnae know much about the husband. I think that may have been the first time I’d met him. I’m so glad she’s doing much better.”

“That’s good news,” I said. She had most likely been dehydrated. After some fluids, she and the baby should be fine.

“That was quick work, Doctor. You’re lucky to have her in Sea Isle, son.”

“Aye. We are,” he said. His cheeks were pink again. His mother had a way of embarrassing him that was nothing short of delightful.

Ewan’s phone buzzed and he glanced it.

“Ewan, really.”

“Sorry, mum. I need to get back to town. Doc, can you be ready to go in fifteen?”

“So soon? I thought I’d get the day with you and the good doctor.”

“I explained about the Highland Games. The crowds are much bigger than we expected. My team is already stretched thin. We need everyone there.”

Once we were in the car, I turned to him.

“What is really happening?”

“There’s been an incident at the fairgrounds.”

“Oh?”

“Several of the stalls were burgled overnight.”

“Why not just tell your mother that?”

He sighed. “She looks for any excuse for me to move back to Edinburgh or even Glasgow. She thinks I’m wasting my time with Sea Isle. We’ve had a murder, and now this. She’ll think I’m not very good at my job.”

I shook my head. What was it about men and their mothers? “I don’t think you could be more wrong. She thinks you hung the moon and is quite proud of you.”

His phone rang, interrupting the conversation. He pushed the button on the dash to answer.

“Sir,” Henry’s voice came over the speaker. “We’ve caught one of them. It’s John Hamburg. We’re thinking he and his friends were having a bit of a contest last night.”

“How did you know it was him?”

“Caught him trying to return the goods, as that was a part of the contest.”

Ewan shook his head. “I’m on my way back. Put him in a cell and round up the rest of them.”

“Aye, sir.”

He hung up.

“I know John. He seemed like such a nice young man,” I said. He’d sprained his wrist during a rugby game, and I taped him up.

“He is a good lad. His dad took off a few months ago and hasn’t come back, leaving his mum and him to run the farm and store.”