Page 87 of Death at a Scottish Halloween

“OK, what kind of snooping are we doing?” she asked as soon as he left.

“I need to question a certain witch, without her knowing what I’m doing.”

“Which one? There are so many here tonight. I’d say it’s the most popular costume.”

“I agree,” I said. “But I want to talk to the real one. The head of the local coven.”

Her eyes went big. “I’d be careful with that one. Marigold can …”

“Throw a hex on me?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t had her as a patient. If those are her coven members at the table, they’ve all been in my office at one time or another.”

“Yeah, maybe don’t mention that. She’s into natural healing and herbs and all that.”

“Sometimes those remedies can work,” I said.

“Right, but she thinks she’s some kind of doctor trying to cure the ills of really sick people. I don’t think you’d approve of that.”

“You’re right. Ewan mentioned she can be—difficult.”

She snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. I thought more than once in all the committee meetings about our festivals that he might murder her. She doesn’t like to ever take the easy road. Why is she a suspect?”

“Something in my gut says she dated our first victim.”

Mara snapped her fingers. “I have seen them in the pub together. Usually when we have a band in. You might be onto something.”

“So, you’ll help me?”

“Sure. We might end up as toads by the end of the night but let’s live dangerously.”

We headed to the table. We were lucky that two seats on each side of Marigold had opened up.

When we sat down beside her, she seemed surprised.

“Hi Mari,” Mara said.

“You know I prefer Marigold,” the woman grumbled.

“Uh huh. The good doc was curious about the history of witches in Scotland. I told her no one knows more than you. She had some questions.”

Thank goodness I’d read a bit about the history of witches.

“You do?” She seemed surprised.

“Yes. I couldn’t believe the witch trials they held between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries. I’m surprised there were any women left in Scotland.”

“Persecuted they were, as well as non-witches. It was a horrible time.” And she was off. Recounting pretty much everything I’d read, and a few things I hadn’t. She spoke for ten minutes straight.

When she paused, I saw my chance. “Thank you. That is fascinating. I hate to keep you from your date tonight, though.”

She laughed and patted my hand. “Oh, I’m as single as they come these days.” Again, it was how she said, these days. “I hear you and the Constable are canoodling.”

“I—uh.” I coughed.

“Don’t be so uptight, I’m only giving you a hard time. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. Watches you like a hawk.”