The Corpse Wore Tartan Read Free

Gifts.”
    â€œYeah. Russ Tandy’s place.”
    â€œIf you want to buy a bagpipe, go there. He even gives lessons. As for you”—she gave Erskine a firm poke in his wool-clad chest—“if you have any conscience at all, you’ll offer to chip in on the cost.”
    Shifting his weight from foot to foot like a bully caught acting up in the schoolyard, Erskine had the grace to look ashamed of himself. After a moment, he nodded. “I guess I could do that.”
    â€œExcellent.” Carrying the bagpipe under her arm, Liss left them to work out the details. She returned to the check-in desk and gave Mary another reassuring smile.
    The other woman sagged in relief. “I can’t believe you did that, Liss. I froze. Absolutely froze. I didn’t even have the presence of mind to pick up the phone and holler for help.”
    â€œJust as well you didn’t. Those two are here with the Scottish Heritage Appreciation Society. As a group, they’re annoying, but mostly harmless. Besides, they’re my responsibility.”
    â€œThat doesn’t mean you have to risk your neck breaking up a fight.” Mary’s molasses-brown eyes still had a slightly glassy look.
    â€œSit down before you fall down,” Liss ordered. “Are you okay?”
    Mary was pregnant again, though she hardly showed. Like everyone else in the Ruskin family, Mary Ruskin Winchester worked long hours.
    Joe Ruskin, Mary’s father, had bought The Spruces after it had been closed for most of a decade. He’d poured money and time into restoring it to its former glory with the hope that reopening the hotel would bring prosperity to everyone in Moosetookalook. Six months in, he was struggling to make ends meet. Mary and her brothers, Sam and Dan, temporarily held positions everyone devoutly hoped would soon be filled by experienced—and well-paid—professionals.
    Running one hand through her short, sandy-brown hair, Mary took a few deep breaths and forced herself to smile. “I’m fine. It was just a little disconcerting.” She cast a wary look at the bagpipe Liss still held cradled against her chest. “What are you going to do with that thing?”
    Liss passed it over. It was awkward to handle—a leather bag covered with tartan cloth with three wooden drones and a chanter hanging off it at odd angles—but it wasn’t heavy. It would have taken a lucky blow from Grant—or one aimed with savage viciousness—to have done any real damage to Erskine. “You’re going to toss it,” she told Mary. “It’s trash.”
    Gingerly, Mary set the instrument down behind the check-in desk. “I’ll put it in the Dumpster in the basement on my way off duty.”
    The ding of the arriving elevator drew Liss’s attention. Belatedly, she realized that Phil and Eunice were only now entering the cage to return to their third-floor suite. She knew the elevators weren’t that slow. They must have chosen to remain in the lobby until the show was over.
    Grant and Erskine, Liss was glad to see, seemed to have resolved their differences. Arm in arm, they were just leaving the lobby, heading in the direction of the hotel lounge.
    Mary sent Liss a worried look. “I should probably tell Dad what happened. Or Dan.”
    â€œThere’s no need to bother them. I’ve handled it. The crisis is over. We’re good.”
    â€œWell, if you’re sure.”
    â€œI’m sure. When do you get to go home?”
    â€œAt five, and it’s almost that now. Thank goodness! I can’t wait to put my feet up.”
    The two women chatted for a few minutes. Or rather Mary chattered about her husband and her son Jason, a toddler. Then Liss, definitely hungry now, resumed her trek to the kitchen.
    She could well understand Mary’s inclination to turn her troubles over to one of the Ruskin men. Liss smiled to herself as she walked