Chapter Two

As if I were an old pro at examining dead bodies, I set about recording as much as I could of the body, with only a flashlight and my phone to help me see. I had Ewan hold the torch, as he called it, while I took pictures. Strange thing was, there was no sign of trauma on the body. But it was possible the bruising hadn’t formed yet.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“Nothing.” I lifted the head to feel for knots or a head injury. Then I checked his eyes. They were extremely red, as well as the lids. Perhaps he had allergies of some sort and had been rubbing them. There was a slight tinge to the eyes, but it could have been the way the light shone down on them.

I examined his hands. His skin was dry, which wasn’t unusual here in Scotland, with the cold and wind.

“I swear it’s getting darker in here. Is your flashlight going out?”

“Nay,” Ewan said. “Storm is blocking the outdoor lights.”

I sighed. “I need to get him back to my lab to do a full workup. Do you have any idea who he is?”

He sighed. “If I’ve met him, I can’t place him.”

“Isn’t he one of the valets? I ran into him in the hall when I left the hen party. At least, I think it was him. He wore a hoodie. We need to call your men and get him to my place.”

“Cannae do that I’m afraid. Storm’s already blocked the passage. The only way in or out is on a snowmobile, and even that’s dangerous right now with the wind. We’ll have to make do.

“A few of my men are here for security purposes. Angie’s father-in-law insisted on it. I’ll get them to help.”

I’d been on my knees, and he reached down to help me stand.

“At the very least, I’ll need somewhere with more light, and we’ll need to keep the body as cold as possible. Do you have a walk-in freezer?”

“Aye, but it’s full of provisions that we’ll need to feed everyone.” He snapped his finger. “I have an idea. Give me a few minutes.”

“First, help me move the body closer to the stairs. If he didn’t just drop dead of natural causes—and he’s quite young for that—I don’t want your men trampling on a possible crime scene. The closer the victim is to the stairs, the less DNA your men will leave all over the crime scene.”

I took the feet, and Ewan lifted the man’s shoulders. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet, so he hadn’t been there for long. I’d guessed his age to be early thirties, and he was dressed in dark slacks and white shirt. The hoodie was gone. The tread of his boots showed snow, but he didn’t wear a coat.

These facts bothered me. If it was the same man, why wouldn’t he have at least worn the hoodie I’d seen him in earlier?

The constable never forgot a name or face. And no one would have been let near the castle without being thoroughly vetted through security. So it was odd he didn’t know the man.

“Does he maybe work for you?”

“Nay. I know my staff.”

“I don’t remember seeing him at the cocktail hour or the dinner. Do you?”

He shook his head.

“Then he probably isn’t a guest. Did he help us with the luggage earlier?”

“Nay. That was Angus and Mark. They are my housekeeper Elizabeth’s boys. Though, this guy and Mark have the same kind of hair.”

“Oh.” So, it hadn’t been the same person. There was no way I could be sure if the man I saw in the hallway had been the victim or Mark.

Without my equipment at home, I had no idea how to do an autopsy. But I’d figure it out.

“Tell me exactly what you saw tonight.” We’d left the man there, and Ewan led me down the stairs.

“Through the heavy snow there was a light in the window. For a split second, I saw the silhouette of someone against the window, with another person behind them. At least, I think that’s what I saw. Everything happened quickly, and the snow didn’t help.”

“I’m assuming you want to do the autopsy tonight?”

I nodded. “Yes. I won’t be able to do a full run of tests, but hopefully I can get an initial idea of the cause of death. I didn’t see much outward evidence of a struggle, but the smell of sick was everywhere.

“I have my medical bag and the travel kit, but I may have to trouble you for other tools. I’ll need help sterilizing and such. I don’t want to bother her, but I’ll need Abigail’s help.”

“I’ll send someone to get her and to watch Tommy.”

“Thank you, Ewan, for looking out for them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that you—I mean, with Tommy’s needs—just thanks.”

“No need to thank me. Tommy is like a little brother to me, and Abigail, a sister. I’ll always be looking out after them.”

Ewan the enigma. He was fiercely loyal to those he cared about, which was the entire town of Sea Isle. Although he had incredible wealth, he worked as hard as any day laborer when it came to helping his fellow townspeople.

He was a good man. I had no idea why we had so much trouble getting along.

“I’ll take your bag, and you grab the away kit. Give me half an hour to get things sorted. I’ll send someone to your room when we’re ready.”

“Please tell them to wear gloves when they carry him down. I have a box in my kit if you need them. I wish we had our suits.”

“I have suits in the back of my Rover,” he said. “I keep a kit ready in there as well.”

“Good. We won’t be able to test DNA here, but at least we can collect it.”

“Aye. The trick will be finding men sober enough to help. I’ve given everyone but Henry the night off.”

I chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

He took off, and I entered the room just in time to hear Mara moan.

“I’m never drinking again.”

There was a small laugh coming from the bathroom. The door was open, so I walked in.

Mara sat in an empty tub, fully clothed, holding a bucket. The housekeeper sat on the side of the tub with a washcloth she placed on Mara’s head. “You must be freezing,” the woman said. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

“I’m an idjit, as grandad likes to say.”

She was so pale she matched the porcelain of the large tub.

“You’re many things my friend, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

Mara scrunched her face. “What was in those drinks? I had maybe three.”

“I felt the effects after one,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it was spiked big-time.”

“I work in a pub. You’d think I could handle my liquor. I’m so embarrassed.”

I shrugged. “Don’t be. I can give you something for the nausea, but it’s probably best to let things happen naturally.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left,” she said. “I’m sobering up though, and it sucks.”

I smiled. “I have an idea.”

I took one of the bottles of water the housekeeper had brought in, and then went to open my medical bag. I kept several packets of hydration mix in it for hikers and others who sometimes were lost in the Highlands. Dehydration was one of the main things they faced—that and hyperthermia. Even in the fall, the Highlands was a frigid place.

After putting the packet in, I handed Mara the bottle.

“Drink this. I can’t promise you won’t have a hangover, but it will help put necessary electrolytes back in your body.”

She took a sip. “This is good.”

The housekeeper came back in with a fluffy blanket. “Miss, are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in bed?”

“I’m not risking messing up Ewan’s fancy bedsheets. I’m happy here, thanks.”

I grinned. “Look after her, please. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”

“Where are you going?” Mara asked.

I glanced from her to the housekeeper. “I—uh …” My brain froze.

“Oh no. I know that look. Someone died. Who is it?”

The housekeeper gasped.

Crud. Mara knew me a little too well.

“There was an incident that needs further investigation.”

Mara waved a hand. “Don’t give me all that. Who is it?”

I sighed. “I honestly don’t know. I promise to tell you what I can after the autopsy.”

“Autopsy?” Mara and the housekeeper said at the same time.

There was a knock at the door.

“That will be Ewan or one of his men. I’ve got to go.”

“But …” Mara’s voice trailed off as I hurried out of the bathroom.

Trusting Mara not to say anything to anyone was easy, but the housekeeper—that I wasn’t so certain about.

“Hi, Doc,” Henry, one of the officers who worked with Ewan, said. “Boss told me to come get you. They’ve got just about everything set up. Abigail’s there telling everybody what to do.”

I grinned. The shy mouse of a girl I’d first met had turned into a force of nature, with a bit of encouragement. Well, when it came to medical emergencies. Socially, not so much.

At the practice, she was game for anything. She soaked up knowledge like a sponge. I’d never met anyone like her, so eager to learn.

We were about to test ourselves by going old school with this autopsy.

I followed Henry to an iron door, much like the one leading up to the tower where we’d found the body. This one opened easily, but the stairs went down rather than up, and they weren’t quite as steep.

“Where are we going?”

“Dungeon,” he said.

I shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. I’d half expected torches on the walls, but the stairwell was well lit. Like the ones in the turret, the stairs curved in a spiral, and I found myself trailing my fingers along the wall to steady myself.

Henry carried the heavy travel kit easily. He wasn’t quite as tall as Ewan, but he was close—and just as muscular.

When we finally reached the end, we stepped into a room filled with wine—rows of bottles as far as the eye could see.

“You could have said ‘wine cellar.’”

“Aye, but more fun to say ‘dungeon,’” Henry joked. He was in his twenties and one of my favorite people Ewan worked with, so I let it go.

As we rounded a corner, there were glass fridges with what I assumed were bottles of champagne behind their doors. This place had to have cost millions, even before the wine was added, and it went on and on.

Finally, there were some bright lights at the end of one of the rows.

“Here we are,” Henry said.

“Hey, Doc,” Abigail said. She was covered from head to toe in a hazmat suit, and she pointed to another one hanging near a sheet.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “I’m sorry if they woke you up.”

She gave me a sweet smile. “I’d been studying.”

That didn’t surprise me. Any moment when she sat still, she’d been doing exactly that.

I took in the area. In typical Abigail fashion, she’d created an autopsy room out of nothing.

They’d wrapped a small area with sheets and what looked like shower curtains. A steel table, covered in plastic, held the body. Outdoor spotlights had been positioned around the room, providing plenty of light to see what we were doing.

Abigail held up a pair of tweezers. “I’ve been gathering evidence off his clothing,” she said. “Ewan will be back in a minute with evidence bags one of his guys had in their truck.”

“Do they have any idea who he is?” I asked. I pulled my hair into a short ponytail to keep it out of my face, and covered up with the suit.

“Not yet,” Henry said. “I’m about to head upstairs with a photo Abigail took to see if we can identify him. We didn’t find any ID, but we’re certain he’s not one of the guests or an employee.”

“That’s odd. Is there a guest list? Maybe someone should double-check.”

“Aye, with photos,” Henry said. “He’s not a matchup for any of them, or their plus ones. The old crank insisted on DEFCON twenty-five for this wedding.”

“Dunnae exaggerate, Henry,” Abigail chastised. “By ‘old crank,’ he means Mr. Carthage, Damien’s father.”

“Okay, so we have a mystery man. Henry, can you make sure the tower is cordoned off? I don’t want anyone disturbing the scene until we can get up there in daylight.”

“Yes, mum.” He took off, but not before smiling at Abigail. I don’t think she noticed.

Ever since the fall festival in Sea Isle, which was an all-weekend affair with food, dancing, and Scottish games, Henry had been showing up at my office with treats. He was teaching himself to bake, and said the cakes and cookies were for all of us.

He always made a point of saying hello to Abigail and Tommy. Like Ewan, he seemed genuinely fond of Tommy, and they could talk about gaming for far longer than I had patience to listen.

“Rigor mortis has just started to set in, so maybe two hours from time of death.” Abigail lifted his hand and used a pair of clippers to cut the tips of his nails into a plastic bag. She zipped it closed and used a black marker to label it, designating which hand and digit as well as the date.

“He was still warm when we found him,” I said. “I think I saw him fall.” I checked my watch. I didn’t realize how long we’d been up in the tower. About two hours had passed.

“I took preliminary photos with my phone,” she said. “Looks like a bruise forming on his cheek, but so far I haven’t found any other signs of violence. But there was something around his mouth. Maybe he’d vomited?”

“Yes, I didn’t see it, but the smell was there.” Thank goodness I hadn’t fallen in it. I’d only brought two pairs of jeans.

“I found the larger bags,” Ewan said as he made his way through the plastic sheeting. “Half the party has buggered off to bed, but Henry is circulating the photo among the last stragglers. I’m sure we’ll have more luck in the morning once everyone sobers up.”

“You know everyone here. Do the lights help?” I asked.

Ewan suited up. After placing the bags on the table with my medical bag, he put a plastic shield over his face, like the ones Abigail and I wore.

“Nay.”

“His hair is dyed blond,” Abigail said. “I’d say his natural color is closer to light brown.”

“Ewan, you don’t have to stay,” I said.

“As constable, I need to be here while you do the autopsy. We’re still in my jurisdiction. Do you think someone hurt him?”

“Abigail noticed some bruising on his cheek.” I pointed to his face. “It could have happened when he fell, but the outline of the contusion is oddly shaped. But it couldn’t have been easy getting him down that tight stairwell. Perhaps your men did it by accident.”

He opened his mouth but then shut it. “Aye, no easy way to get him down here. We had to hand him off.”

“You did your best,” I said. “You always do.”

His eyebrows went up.

“What?” I asked.

“You paid me a compliment.”

I snorted and then rolled my eyes. “Abigail, get some good photos of that.” I pointed to the bruise on his cheek.

The camera phone flashed brightly as I pushed open the dead man’s mouth. A sickly smell permeated my mask.

“What is that?” She turned her head away. I didn’t blame her. I’d worked in the ER for so long that nothing much bothered me, but the combination of vomit and the sickly sweet scent was a bit much even for me.

“He was quite ill leading up to his death. The pale skin and blue tinge of his mouth and tongue remind me of a case I had years ago, but for the life of me, I can’t remember.”

Abigail gasped.

“What is it?” Ewan asked.

“She never forgets anything,” Abigail said. “Are you okay?” She stared at me warily.

“I’ve been up for nearly twenty-four hours, and I’m doing an autopsy in a dungeon. I’m fine.”

“Wine cellar,” Ewan said.

I might have rolled my eyes at that point.

“Help me get his clothes off.”

The words came out harsher than I meant. “Sorry.”

She pulled down her mask. “I’m used to the cranky.” Then she smiled.

“Me too,” Ewan said.

We laughed.

“Okay. You two. This isn’t pick-on-Emilia day. Let’s get this done so we can all get to bed. This day has already been much too long.”

Ewan bagged the clothing and logged each piece of evidence on the sheet Abigail had created. The pair of them impressed me with their professionalism and how efficiently they worked.

“He can’t be more than thirty-one to thirty-five,” I said. “Though I’d say there’s a history of drug use.” I pointed to scars on his inner arm, where there were needle tracks.

“Maybe he overdosed,” Ewan said.

I shrugged. “I’m not seeing any new punctures, but I haven’t checked him completely. Abigail, get as much blood as possible. We’ll need to run tox screens when we get a chance.”

“Even with the big kit, I won’t be able to run everything you’ll need.”

“Understandable—just get me what you can.”

“Yes, Doc.”

There were faint bruises on his abdomen and his middle back, some of which were postmortem, most likely from Ewan’s men carrying the body down the stairs.

Without an X-ray machine, it was impossible to check for broken bones. But I moved my hands down his ribs and extremities carefully to feel for anything out of place.

“What is she doing?” Ewan whispered.

“Feeling for broken bones.” Abigail swabbed the mouth.

“The abdomen is distended,” I said. “I don’t think it’s the normal bloating we’d expect. Too soon for that.”

“I’ll take samples,” she said. Then she drew out our largest syringe and a long needle.

We worked for a few hours, and Ewan helped as if he’d been doing so for years.

While I couldn’t do a full autopsy, I opened his chest to take a look.

“Hmm.”

“What is it?” Abigail had been marking the many vials we collected and putting them in a cooler.

“Is it supposed to be like that?” Ewan asked. He’d leaned over to look at the heart.

“No. Pulmonary edema. He had a heart condition, or perhaps pneumonia. I won’t know until we can run some tests. His lungs are damaged as well.”

“Can the rest wait until tomorrow?” Ewan asked.

I bit my lip. While I’d never admit it to him, the first time I’d dealt with a body like this, it had been stolen from my office. By the time the body found its way back to me, most of the evidence had washed away.

In that case, Ewan wouldn’t believe the victim had been murdered.

I’d proved him wrong.

Since then, I made a point of doing autopsies as quickly as possible.

I glanced at my watch. It was nearing four in the morning. None of us was at our best when we were this tired, even though I’d trained my body for years to be on, all the time in the ER. But one of the reasons I’d moved to Scotland was to stop killing myself.

After making sure everything was bagged, tagged, and stored in one of the wine fridges, I covered the corpse with a body bag.

I pulled off my gloves and threw them in the trash, along with my suit.

“What do you think, Doc?” Ewan asked.

I glanced at him and then Abigail.

“From the look of those kidneys, I don’t know,” I said. “When will we be able to get out of here?” I waved toward the fridge. “I’ve got to get back to my lab and test all of this.”

“We’re in for it. The blizzard won’t stop for three days, they are saying.”

“Three days? You mean none of us can leave for three days?”

“Aye.”

“He’s right,” Abigail said.

“Can you at least tell me if he died of natural causes?” Ewan asked. “Maybe an overdose?”

I shook my head. “The needle scars are old, and I didn’t see any punctures anywhere else on the body—not even between the toes, which is a favorite of drug users when they’ve blown all their veins.”

Abigail shook her head and frowned. “I think he ingested something that killed him. Food poisoning?”

“Then why isn’t everyone else sick?” Ewan asked.

“What makes you think that?” I asked Abigail.

“The blue around his mouth and eyes—the bloating. Some sort of toxin maybe?”

“None of us recognize him from the dinner, so maybe he ate somewhere else,” I said.

I thought about Mara. “I know it’s late, but can you check with the others and let me know if anyone else was sick. There was a lot of food last night at the dinner, and we’re all fine. But Mara didn’t drink wine at dinner and exhibited drunkenness after only a few drinks at the hen party. Usually she can drink us all under the table.”

Ewan’s eyebrow went up.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” I said.

“I’m not upset about the drinking comment,” he said. “I’m worried the food is tainted.”

“It didn’t come from the meal last night, or we’d all be sick. And yet … Mara’s sudden drunkenness is worrisome.”

“I’m not insulted, and there were leftovers. I’ll have one of my men bag samples from everything.”

“I don’t think it was the food, or we’d be hearing about more people being sick. But that’s a good idea.” Something niggled at the back of my brain.

I pulled off my mask. “Let’s get some sleep.”

One of my best traits was my brain’s ability to remember and categorize almost everything I saw.

But I’d only had four hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours. Even I had to give myself some grace.

I shivered.

“Right, let’s get you upstairs.” Ewan ushered us out.

“I should check on Tommy,” Abigail said. At the top of the stairs, she went to the left, and Ewan followed me down the hallway.

“Something is bothering you. Tell me. Do you expect foul play?”

I shrugged.

“Come on, Em. I need to know. What does your gut say?”

Funny, how he’d grown to trust me, and he hardly ever—almost never—used my name.

I chewed on my lip. “I need to run some tests before I can be sure.”

“It’s foul play, isn’t it?” He stopped and then crossed his arms.

“Yes. If it turns out to be poison—and I believe it is—then we have a killer in the castle.”