Page 63 of Death at a Highland Wedding

“No, I just came to see the kittens. How’s our little patient doing?”

She lowers herself to the floor again. “She is not eating, and Miss McCreadie said I could help with the feeding.”

“Her leg is probably hurting, and she’s likely confused by that.”

“That is what Miss McCreadie said.”

“Dr. Gray has pain medication. A wee bit could help her find her appetite.” I stroke the kitten’s back and she manages a purr. “Would you like me to ask him?”

“Yes, please. Also…” She lowers her gaze as she holds the mash to the kitten’s mouth. “It would be easier to care for her in the house.”

“Ah.”

“I know wildcats are not pets, but she is a patient, and Miss McCreadie says she will likely never be able to be released anyway.”

“There are three-legged cats in the wild, but usually they are grown cats who lost a leg to injury and adjusted, having already learned to hunt.”

“We could keep her in our room. Then I could nurse her properly and be there during the night. I cannot come out here after dark.”

“I will speak to…” I trail off, not sure who I’d speak to. The owner ofthe house in police custody? Fiona, the not yet lady of the house? I could also ask Violet, as the owner’s sister, but that might put her in a bad spot between her brother and his fiancée.

“I will speak to Fiona,” I say. “She might, however, need to check with Mrs. Hall.”

Alice’s face fell. “Mrs. Hall will not allow it.”

I smile. “I get the sense Mrs. Hall likes Fiona, and that it will be like Isla asking Mrs. Wallace.”

A faint smile touches Alice’s face. “Mrs. Wallace would say yes, even if she grumbled about it.”

I promise to speak to Fiona. Then I take a few moments to linger and play with the two males. Alice is too intent on feeding their injured sister to pay me any mind, which allows me to fall into my thoughts.

Those thoughts turn to the kittens. Who murdered their mother? Müller. I’m reasonably sure of that, but it also makes me wonder whether there could be any connections between that murder and Sinclair’s.

It feels as if these two deaths shouldbelinked. One morning, we find a dead wildcat placed in a trap after being poisoned. The next morning, we find a dead man murdered, likely after being mistaken for the estate owner.

There’s no obvious connection. It’s not as if the wildcat was a trial run. Sinclair certainly didn’t die because he realized the cat had been poisoned—no one’s committing homicide to cover up felicide.

Maybe a connection isn’t so ridiculous, though. Perhaps the wildcat’s death led to a cascade of events that ended in Sinclair’s murder.

Cranston realizes Müller poisoned the cat, and he’s livid… especially knowing how Fiona would react if she found out. Cranston confronts Müller. Tells him he’s sacked. Müller sees what he thinks is Cranston walking around that night and takes matters into his own hands. If Cranston is dead, no one will know he fired Müller.

Or Sinclair figures out that Müller killed the cat, and he’s equally livid, since Sinclair recommended Müller for the job. He goes out at night and confronts Müller. Sinclair threatens to tell Cranston, and when he turns around, Müller clocks him.

Yep, I have a lot of theories, but I feel as if I’ve jumped ahead to take the midterm after only attending half the lectures. I need to slow down and accumulate more data, starting with talking to my partners in crime-solving.

TWENTY-ONE

I’m nearly at the house when I hear Gray’s low voice. Now, some people tease that I am particularly attuned to the sound of his voice. Maybe. Probably.

I follow that voice into the garden, where I find McCreadie and Gray in quiet conversation.

“A post-interview analysis, and you didn’t invite me?” I say.

Gray fixes me with a mock glare. “Perhaps because you abandoned us and went haring off in search of more interesting leads.”

“Mmm. Guilty. So did you find anything?”

McCreadie shakes his head. “We are taking a break from the tedium. The stories are all the same. They were in their beds last night from dusk until dawn. They did not hear Ezra or anyone else leave. They saw nothing. They know nothing. They certainly do not know why anyone would want Ezra Sinclair dead. Now Archie on the other hand…” He sighs. “I am glad Archie is not around to overhear his friends and family list all the people who might wish him harm.”